Read Calling On Fire (Book 1) Online

Authors: Stephanie Beavers

Tags: #fantasy

Calling On Fire (Book 1) (32 page)

“Jonthn?” Toman mumbled.

“There we go, there you go,” Esset murmured. “You’re all right, you’re safe. We’re at a healer’s. How are you feeling?” Toman squeezed his eyes shut for a second and then opened them a little further than the last time.

“Not so great,” he groaned. Esset just nodded—that was to be expected.

“Do you think you can eat something? I’ll help,” the summoner asked.

“Mmm… maybe?” Toman hazarded. His voice was hoarse and raspy.

“Okay. Just wait one second, I’m going to call the maid to get you something,” Esset said. He vanished from Toman’s field of vision for a few moments before returning.

“She’ll be back soon, and we can get some food in you. Is there anything you need?” Esset asked, hovering over Toman's bed. Toman shook his head slightly, then moved his hands on the mattress. The unfamiliar sensation of not having gloves on caught his attention and he lifted one hand enough to see the bare skin. He glanced a question at his brother.

“They’re safe,” Esset assured him. Then he averted his eyes. “Although that was one promise I never wanted to make good on.”

“Sorry,” Toman managed to reply hoarsely.

“Yeah, well, those bugs are going to be very sorry,” Esset responded, his tone heated. Toman smiled slightly, then felt too exhausted with the effort to continue. Esset shot him a worried look, even though he knew that total exhaustion was probably to be expected. He was about to say something, but the maid came in with a tray just then. Within seconds of finishing his soup, Toman was back asleep.

Later that evening, Lady Ateala returned again and gave Toman another injection of the antidote. Once again, Toman seemed to get worse immediately.

“Part of the cure for the Reshkin venom forces the body to start actively fighting the venom. Otherwise, it’s like the venom circumvents the immune system completely and kills the victim without being opposed at all,” Lady Ateala explained unbidden. Perhaps she noticed Esset’s obvious concern at his best friend’s state. Esset’s brown eyes flicked up to Lady Ateala, who was watching her patient carefully and did not return his gaze. “It only looks like he’s getting worse because his body is suddenly being forced to react violently against the venom after doing nothing.”

“Ah,” Esset responded. “I was wondering.” He hadn’t been suspicious of her or anything, just very worried, but she seemed to understand his unspoken concern.

“It is only natural,” Lady Ateala replied easily. Now she glanced at him. “If you don’t mind my inquiry, how again did he come to be bitten by one of the Reshkin? They are problematic to the Nadra, I know, but last I heard, the Nadra were not overly welcoming towards humans. There have been few humans admitted to their city at the best of times.”

“The Reshkin are the reason we were there,” Esset explained. “They had become a bigger problem than the Nadra could deal with alone, so they went looking for help. Long story short, they found my brother and me, and we’ve been helping them for the past week or so.”

“If you’ll beg my pardon, you don’t look much like soldiers,” the lady put in. That got Esset’s usual laugh.

“No, we don’t,” he agreed. “Our skills lie in magical areas rather than physical.” Lady Ateala nodded.

“That would have been my guess,” she responded. “What kinds of magics then? I could see you as a mage, but he,” she gestured at Toman, “does not look like one to strive for the more scholarly magical pursuits.”

“He’s not,” Esset acknowledged. “And although I am, neither of us is a conventional mage. I’m a summoner—some of the villagers saw one of my summons when I arrived.”

“So I heard,” Lady Ateala replied. “I’ve had to reassure many of our villagers that you weren’t a demon-caller, nor the victims of one. I’m glad I was correct, and it will be good to have solid information to put their fears to rest that no demons will come calling,” Lady Ateala said with a small nod. Esset rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Yeah… a lot of people seem to make that assumption. Despite fire being symbolic for both good and evil, Brightfire and Darkfire, somehow it’s a widespread assumption that any fiery creature is from the underworld. But my summons are neither malevolent nor benevolent.”

“What of him then?” she asked next, pointing her chin at Toman. “You said you were both…unconventional.”

“Yeah, Toman’s an animator. He can make things that aren’t alive sort of come to life. It’s not true life, of course, but they can do almost anything he wants,” Esset explained with a shrug. “He can create things to animate, like a golem, or animate an existing object.” Lady Ateala’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“Fascinating,” Lady Ateala said. “I can see how you could be very helpful to the Nadra. Inborn magical abilities are always so interesting.”

“Any magical abilities are pretty fascinating,” Esset replied, really warming to the conversation as it looked like it was turning somewhat academic. “Magic itself is fascinating—everything else in this world is governed by hard and fast rules, but magic can defy pretty much any of them.”

“It does give those born with it something of an unfair advantage, however,” Lady Ateala remarked.

“Well, yes, but like anything else, it’s the luck of the draw. Someone born more intelligent or more athletic than those around him—or her—has an ‘unfair’ advantage as well,” Esset pointed out. “Luck has and always will be checked and balanced by other forces in the world.”

“Hm, yes, I suppose,” the lady conceded.

“And magic seems to have its own rules too, if we can only figure them out,” Esset mused.

“And then there’s magic that comes from sources other than inborn abilities—like artifacts,” Lady Ateala added.

“Oh yes! At the royal library back home, we have mage-lights that anyone can use. And of course there are magical weapons—staffs and swords. It fascinates me that people with absolutely no magical abilities can use them. It speaks to a pervasive force in our world—” Esset suddenly stopped himself with a sheepish expression. “Sorry, I just realized I was starting to go off on that. Toman always tells me no one’s interested in stuff like that.”

Lady Ateala smiled.

“Well, your brother would be wrong this time. I have always been interested in philosophy and the natural world, even beyond medicine.” She waved generally towards her medicine cabinets. Esset was delighted.

“I have a question for you then,” Esset said. “Since you mentioned them, are inborn abilities not fascinating too? Because it depends how you look at it—if you assume magic is the norm, then it’s remarkable that people without magic can use magical devices. But really, they’re just triggering a response in something that was created to give that response when triggered.”

Lady Ateala jumped in and completed the thought for him.

“But if you assume magic is not the norm, then inborn abilities are even more unusual, for how does anyone access this inexplicable power we call magic?” she said.

“Exactly!” Esset exclaimed. Then he cringed at how loud he’d been and peeked at Toman, but his brother didn’t stir.

“Exactly,” Esset repeated in a more reasonable tone, his cheeks slightly red.

“I’ve always thought that magic is part of life, the energy of life, so I’ve always thought it odder that some people can’t seem to access magic. And unfair. You say more intelligent people have a similar advantage, but what about those people whose magical abilities can set them up like gods? Yes, intelligence and hard work can go a long way, but can it compare to someone who could stop your heart with a thought?” Lady Ateala asked.

“You do have a point, but history shows that intelligence and hard work
can
make men—or women—that powerful. Akton the Cruel, for example. He built an empire and a religion around himself, and he was just a man. Yes, he recruited those with magic, but he didn’t have any himself. All he had to do to kill someone was snap his fingers—someone else would do it for him. How is that any less of a power than having the magic himself?” Esset asked. “He learned to manipulate people to a level that could even look like magic when it wasn’t.”

Lady Ateala didn’t look convinced.

“And remember,” Esset continued. “Hard work is always necessary, even for those with magic. Even if someone has an inborn talent, they wouldn’t be able to stop someone’s heart with their magic unless they practiced and refined their skills first. Magic, intelligence, or any other inborn advantage still need to be practiced and nurtured.”

“But…” Lady Ateala paused to gather her thoughts before launching a counter-argument. “But think of, say, healers.” She waved a hand at her medicine cabinets again. “Imagine two scenarios. In one, a skilled healer, practiced in herbalism and surgery, comes across a man in the woods with a deep wound in his belly. In the second scenario, a young healer with raw, inborn healing talent comes across the same man. The inexperienced healer with magic will be able to save the dying man, but the other healer, without her tools, will not.”

Esset shook his head.

“But with preparation and her tools, she could. It’s analogous to the difference between Toman’s abilities and mine. I can react to a threat instantly by summoning something, but there’s a limit on the scope of my abilities. I can only summon so much. Toman needs preparation to react to a threat, time to create or seek things to animate. But given the time to prepare, his abilities, his power, far outstrip mine.”

Esset didn’t get the chance to see her reaction to his argument, for the maid poked her head in the door.

“Milady? You’re needed,” the maid said politely.

“Yes, of course,” Lady Ateala replied instantly. She smiled apologetically at Esset.

“Excuse me. We’ll have to continue our engaging discussion another time.” She turned and followed the maid out the door after Esset nodded his understanding.

Esset found himself staring off the way she’d gone. He’d been surprised, but pleasantly so; he always enjoyed a good discussion with a learned person, and Lady Ateala definitely was that. Women less frequently pursued scholarly pursuits, especially women of noble birth. Esset didn’t know why that was the case, but he certainly had nothing against woman scholars—he was more than willing to engage with any sharp mind.

Thinking back, he realized that the only female scholars he’d met previously had been older, either his mother’s age or even older, with wrinkles and white hair. Esset turned pink again and found himself glad Lady Ateala wasn’t there to see it. Speaking of unfair advantages…she was smart and pretty. No, beautiful. Definitely beautiful. Esset found himself looking forward to the next time he got to see her, and not just for the conversation.

It was late, and both Toman and Esset were asleep, Toman peacefully in bed and Esset fitfully in the cot. Lady Ateala paused in the doorway and watched them for a moment, a cat-like smile on her face. Then she entered the room and her gaze turned calculating as she studied Toman up and down, briefly laying a hand on his forehead, then his wrist. Then she went to the medicine cabinet and counted the little bottles of serum left in there. All the vials were marked with her own code; someone would have to know it before risking taking any of them. Lady Ateala reached into her pocket and placed two new vials next to the serums she’d been giving Toman, then ghosted back out of the room.

 

Esset woke early the next morning, but he didn’t try going back to sleep. He’d kept checking on Toman all night, but his brother had slept more peacefully than he. With an almost jealous glance, Esset took up a chair and pulled out his summoner’s tome. He began perusing through it, going through familiar motions more than actually trying to read. His mind wandered, and soon he was staring at a page without even flipping it.

“You’ve been on that page for a while now,” remarked a quiet, hoarse voice from the bed.

“You’re awake again!” Esset exclaimed, stuffing his book aside thoughtlessly.

“Yeah. Water?” Toman requested. If the hoarse quality of his voice was anything to go by, it was no wonder he wanted a drink of water.

“Of course,” Esset said, picking up the waiting glass of clear liquid from the bedside table where it had been left for just that reason. He helped prop Toman up before passing it over for him to drink.

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