Read Magic Study Online

Authors: Maria V. Snyder

Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #General, #Magic, #Epic, #American Science Fiction And Fantasy, #Fantasy fiction, #Fantasy - Epic, #Fiction - Fantasy, #Romance, #Romance - Fantasy, #American Light Romantic Fiction, #Romance: Gothic, #Brothers and sisters, #Magicians

Magic Study (20 page)

  “I fear Irys will be back soon and reclaim you,” Bain said to me with a smile. “Gelsi’s focus for this semester is to learn how to communicate magically with other magicians. Irys has told me this is your strongest ability. Therefore, I would like your assistance with introducing this skill to my student.”

  Gelsi’s eyes widened. Her long thick eyelashes touched her brows.

  “I’ll do what I can,” I said.

  Bain rummaged through one of his desk’s drawers and pulled a small burlap sack from it. He set the bag on the desk and opened it, taking out two brown lumps.

  “We’ll use Theobroma for the first lesson,” he said.

  The lumps triggered memories of my time in Ixia. Theobroma was the southern name for Criollo, a delicious sweet that had the unfortunate effect of opening a person’s mind to magical influences. General Brazell had used the nutty flavored dessert to bypass the Commander’s strong will so Brazell’s magician, Mogkan could gain control of the Commander’s mind.

  Bain handed me one of the Theobroma pieces and he gave the other to Gelsi. Then he told us to sit in the two chairs that faced each other. While I would have enjoyed eating the mouth-coating sweet, I thought it unnecessary.

  “Can we try without it first?” I asked.

  Bain’s bushy gray eyebrows rose as he considered my question. “You don’t need it to make an initial connection?”

  I thought about the different people and horses I had linked with. “So far, no.”

  “All right. Yelena, I want you to try to connect with Gelsi.”

  Dredging some energy from my tired body, I pulled a thread of power and directed it to the girl, projecting my awareness to her. I sensed her apprehension about working with this strange woman from Ixia in her mind.

Hello,
I said.

  She jumped in shock.

  To help her relax I said,
I was born in the Illiais Jungle. Where did you grow up?

  Gelsi formed an image of a small village wrapped in fog in her mind.
We reside in the foothills of the Emerald Mountains. Every morning our house is enveloped in the mist from the mountains.

  I showed her my parents’ dwelling in the trees. We “talked” about siblings. A middle child, Gelsi, had two older sisters and two younger brothers, but she was the only one in her family to develop magical powers.

  Bain watched us in silence, then he interrupted, “Break the connection now.”

  Sapped of energy, I dragged my awareness back.

  “Gelsi, it is your turn to make contact with Yelena.”

  She closed her eyes, and I sensed her seeking my mind. All I would need to do was tug on her awareness.

  “Do not help her,” Bain warned me.

  Instead, I kept my mind open, but she failed to reach me.

  “Not to worry,” Bain consoled her. “The first time is the hardest. That is why we use Theobroma.”

  Bain’s gray eyes studied me with kindness. “We will try again another time. Gelsi, go unpack and get settled.”

  After she left Bain’s tower, he said, “No doubt you wore yourself out yesterday. Hayes mentioned something to me. Tell me what happened,” he instructed.

  I told him about the pain and the power. “It seems I don’t have full control yet,” I offered, waiting to see if he would chastise me. If my actions had truly been an uncontrolled burst, I knew the other Master Magicians would have felt it. And certain that Roze would have acted without hesitation on that knowledge.

  “A lesson learned,” Bain said. “Repairing injuries takes immense effort. Enough for today. I’ll see you tonight at the feast.”

  The feast! I had forgotten. Again. “What should I…” I stopped, feeling awkward and silly to be asking about clothing.

  Bain smiled in sympathy. “No expertise in that matter,” he said, seeming to read my mind. “Zitora will enjoy helping you. She’s at loose ends this year and will welcome some company.”

  “I thought she was busy with Council business.”

  “She is, but she’s transitioning from five years of being a student to being on her own. Having no time to be a mentor doesn’t mean she won’t have time to make a friend.”

  I left Bain’s tower and headed toward Zitora’s in the northeast corner of the Keep. Lively groups filled the campus walkways and people hurried past me in every direction. My quiet walks through the Keep were at an end, yet I felt energized by all the activity.

  Zitora greeted me with a bright smile that only dimmed when we discussed Tula’s condition. Talk eventually turned to the upcoming festivities, and I inquired about appropriate dress.

  “The formal robes are only for the boring school functions,” Zitora said. “Do tell me you have something pretty to wear.”

  When I shook my head, she transformed into a mother hen and set about finding me some clothes.

  “Thank fate you’re my size,” Zitora said with glee.

  Despite my protests, she dragged me up two flights to her bedroom and loaded my arms with dresses, skirts and lacy blouses. Zitora propped her hands on her hips, considering my boots. “Those will not do.”

  “They’re comfortable and I can move easily in them,” I said.

  “A challenge then. Mmm. I’ll be right back.”

  She disappeared into another room, while I waited in her bedroom on the third floor of her tower. Soft pastel paintings of flowers hung on the walls. Oversize pillows graced her canopy bed. The room oozed comfort like open arms wrapping me in a hug.

  With a triumphant shout, Zitora sauntered into the room, a pair of black sandals raised high for admiration.

  “Rubber soles, soft leather and a small heel. Perfect for dancing all night long.” She laughed.

  “I don’t know how to dance,” I said.

  “Doesn’t matter. You have a natural grace. Watch the others and follow.” Zitora added the sandals to the top of my pile.

  “I really can’t take all of this.” I tried to give the clothes back. “I came for advice, not your entire wardrobe.” I planned to go to the market. With the return of the Citadel’s residents, the shops remained open every day.

  She shooed me away. “Hardly made a dent in my armoire. I’m a collector of clothes. I can’t pass a dress shop without finding something I must have.”

  “At least let me pay-”

  “Stop.” She raised her hand. “I’ll make it easier for you. Tomorrow I’m leaving on a mission for the Council, and-much to my chagrin-I will have an escort of four soldiers. Irys and Roze can gallivant all over Sitia by themselves, and they’re assigned all the fun, secret missions. But the Council worries about me. So I’m limited to escorted missions.” She huffed with frustration. “I’ve seen you practicing with your bow near the stable. How about I exchange my clothes for some lessons in self-defense?”

  “Okay. But why didn’t you learn how to defend yourself while a student here?”

  “I hated the Master of Arms,” she said with a deep frown. “A bully who turned the teaching sessions into torture sessions. He enjoyed inflicting pain. I avoided him at all costs. When the Masters realized I had strong powers, they focused more on my learning.”

  “Who’s the Arms Master?”

  “One of the northerners with Cahil. Goel’s his name.” Zitora shuddered with revulsion. “Although he wasn’t as bad as the Master test…” She paused as a cringe of horror crossed her face. Then she jerked her head as if dislodging unwanted memories.

  “Anyway, Roze offered to teach me, but I’d rather have you as my instructor.” She flashed me a conspiratorial smirk.

  Having agreed to the exchange, I maneuvered down Zitora’s tower steps with the bundle of her clothes heaped in my arms. So burdened, I headed toward my rooms. On the way, I wondered about the Master test. Fisk, the beggar boy had also mentioned it. I would have to ask Irys.

  The courtyard across from my quarters buzzed with students. A few boys tossed a ball, while others lounged on the grass or talked in groups. Hampered by Zitora’s clothes, I fumbled at my door.

  “Hey, you!” someone called.

  I looked around and spotted a group of girls gesturing at me.

  “The first year barracks are that way.” One of the girls with long blond hair pointed. “This is for apprentices only.”

  “Thanks, but this is my room,” I called, turning back.

  I managed to get the door open before I felt a prickle of power along my spine. Tossing the clothing on to the floor, I spun around. A group of students stood mere inches from me.

  “You don’t belong here,” said the long-haired girl. A dangerous shine lit her violet eyes. “You’re new. I know everybody, and new students go to the first-year barracks. You have to
earn
a room here.”

  Persuasive magic emanated from her. A strong desire to pack my belongings and move to the first-year dorms coursed through my mind and pressed against my body. I deflected her magical command by strengthening my mental defenses.

  She grunted in outrage. A look passed among her companions. Power built as they readied to join in. I braced for another attack, but before they could use their combined power, another voice cut through the throng.

  “What’s going on here?”

  The power dissipated in a stiff wave as Dax Greenblade pushed his lean muscular body through the group, staring down at the others with his bottle-green eyes. In the sunlight, his honey-brown skin made his face appear older.

  “She doesn’t belong here,” the girl repeated.

  “Yelena is Fourth Magician’s student,” Dax said. “She’s been assigned to this wing.”

  “But that’s not fair,” the girl whined. “You have to
earn
the right to be here.”

  “And who’s to say she hasn’t?” Dax asked. “If you believe Fourth Magician is in error, I suggest you take it up with her.”

  An uncomfortable silence followed before the group returned to the courtyard. Dax stayed beside me.

  “Thanks,” I said. The group huddled in a tight pack, casting nasty looks my way as they talked. “Guess I haven’t made any friends.”

  “Three points against you, I’m afraid. One.” Dax held up a long slender finger. “You’re new. Two. Fourth Magician’s your mentor. Any student selected by a Master is guaranteed to be the subject of jealousy. If you’re looking for friends, I’m afraid Gelsi and I are your only choices.”

  “What’s the third point?”

  He smiled sardonically. “Rumors and speculation. The students will dig up every bit of information they can on you and why you’re here. It doesn’t matter if the information is true or not. In fact, the stranger the tidbits the better. And I have a feeling from what I already heard your tidbits are quite juicy and should inflame the gossip all the more.”

  I studied his face. Lines of concern creased his forehead, and I saw no signs of deceit. “Tidbits?”

  “You’re Leif’s lost sister, you’re older than all the students and you’re extremely powerful.”

  I looked at him in surprise. Me? Powerful?

  “I didn’t come over to help you. I came to protect them.” He inclined his head toward the group in the courtyard.

  Before I could comment, Dax pointed to a room, five doors down from mine. “Come anytime for any reason. Gelsi is in the novice barracks near the west wall.”

  Dax waved goodbye and strode toward his room. The group’s hostility transferred briefly to his back before returning to me. I closed my door.

  Great. Day one and already the outcast. But did I care? Here to learn and not to make friends, I thought it wouldn’t matter once lessons started. By then, the students would be too busy to pay any attention to me.

  I sorted through Zitora’s clothes, choosing a long black skirt and a red-and-black V-neck blouse. The shirt had two layers of material. A pattern of fine black lace over red silk.

  I tried on the outfit. Deciding to leave my bow behind during the feast, I cut a slit in one of the skirt’s pockets for quick access to my switchblade. The sandals were a little big, so I poked another hole in the strap.

  Until I looked at myself in the mirror I hadn’t realized I wore Commander Ambrose’s colors, the same combination as my northern uniform. I considered another outfit, even tried on different clothes, but felt the most comfortable in my first choice.

  Pulling my hair from its braid, I scowled at the limp mess. The year before I had cut out the snarls and tangles, and now the ends had grown in ragged. My black hair now reached past my shoulders. It would need a good trim and washing.

  I changed back into my day clothes and left my rooms to feed the promised apples to Topaz and Kiki. Conversation in the courtyard ceased as I emerged. Ignoring them, I set out for the stable. I would stop by the baths on my return.

 

  The time for the feast came quicker than I expected. Once again, I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom, assessing my clothing with a critical eye. I pushed a stray curl from my face.

  An assistant at the baths had fussed over my awkward attempts to cut my own hair. She had commandeered my scissors and proceeded to trim the ends, then had rolled my hair with hot metal tubes.

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