Nature Mage (18 page)

At first nothing happened; but to Gaspi’s amazement, a hand-sized globe of red light slowly filled the gap in Lydia’s hands after a moment. His gaze flicked involuntarily to Emea’s hands, desperately hoping something would happen for her. The moments ticked by excruciatingly, but the pause was becoming too painful, and Gaspi saw Emelda shift in her chair, about to speak, when all of a sudden he caught sight of the slightest pale white glow within Emea’s hands. Emelda had seen it too, pushing herself quietly out of her chair and shuffling forward to get a better view, but the movement distracted Emea and she opened her eyes. For a fraction of a second the glow in Emea’s hands lingered, and then it winked out of existence as if it had never been there. Her hopeful gaze lingered on the spot where she thought just
maybe
she had seen something, before looking up at Healer Emelda with an uncertain expression.

Emelda smiled at her, and rested a hand on her shoulder, but said nothing, not wanting to disturb Lydia, whose hands still cupped a merrily glowing ball of red light. Emea gasped gently in surprise when she saw it, but Lydia was undisturbed.

Emelda spoke softly to her. “Lydia, when you feel ready to do so without losing your focus, open your eyes, and keep your power flowing into the ball of light.”

Lydia continued to sit as she was for a few moments, breathing steadily in and out, and then slowly opened her eyes, which widened slightly on seeing what was in her hands, but the surprise didn’t break her concentration. The red light continued glowing in her hands for several heartbeats, her face breaking into a smile, but then the light began to falter, flickering dimly, then brightly, and then disappeared in an instant.

“Bravo! Wonderful. Good job, both of you,” Emelda exclaimed enthusiastically. She must have seen Emea’s sceptical expression. “Lydia, you managed that marvellously - but that doesn’t mean you weren’t successful too, Emea. I saw light begin to form in your hands, and I think Gaspi did too?” she enquired of Gaspi.

“Absolutely. I definitely saw something,” Gaspi said, silently willing Emea to believe him.

Emea’s pretty face glowed pink. “I think I saw it too,” she said, “just for a moment after I opened my eyes.” Beneath the embarrassment and mixed with a lingering uncertainty, Gaspi thought he could detect a hint of determination in Emea, a determination born of hope, and as he breathed more easily he realised just how worried he had been about the release of Emea’s power.

Emelda set them some homework, asking them to try and achieve a meditative state on their own, once this evening and once the next morning before breakfast. They weren’t to use their powers outside of the classroom for now, until she felt they had them under control. Gaspi asked when the block would be taken away.

“We’ll wait at least a week, until you can confidently approach and let go of your power,” Emelda said. “The problem you had on your journey was due to not being able to let go, and not knowing how much you can safely draw on. For now, just work hard on familiarising yourself with the magic within you.”

Chapter 13

They talked animatedly as they gathered their bags up. “Who’d have thought it?” Lydia breathed elatedly. “That I could connect with my power so easily?”

“Or that meditating would feel so amazing?” Gaspi added, remembering the euphoria he’d experienced.

Even Emea, whose experience had been less intense, was excited. “I found it hard to relax, but whenever I did, it was like touching the edge of something beautiful. And that was just the edge.” Gaspi smiled, happy that Emea had gained a little confidence.

They emerged from the classroom door into the dusty courtyard to find an object flying towards them. Gaspi instinctively reached out, and caught what appeared to be a large bundle of leather rags bound tightly in a ball. All the boys in their class had stopped in mid-action, positioned all over the strangely marked quad.

“Throw it back, then!” one of the boys shouted, and Gaspi passed it back to him with an easy overhand lob.

Emea looked at Gaspi with a knowing smile. “Want to watch, Gasp?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said, not taking his eyes from the ball. The three friends sat down on the nearest bench to watch what was happening. In a way, it was similar to Koshta. The aim of the game seemed to be to pass the ball between two coats placed at each end of the quadrangle. The coats lay on the white lines at each end of the courtyard, marking out two goals. The difference was that the ball was much larger than a Koshta seed, and there were no sticks involved. It could only be kicked and not picked up, except by the boy guarding the goal, or when it went over the boundary of the quad.

It seemed strange to Gaspi at first - all that kicking, and not being able to use your hands - but soon the speed and skill needed to control the ball with just your feet had him mesmerised. He leaned and shifted in his seat as the boys played, jumping to his feet when it looked like a goal was going to be scored. Some of the boys were clearly better than others, and Gaspi grudgingly noticed that Everand was pretty skilled, scoring over half of his team’s goals. Ferast was not playing, but watched from the sidelines.

Some time into the game Everand clashed with one of the other boys, leaving him writhing on the ground, clutching his ankle. His team mates gathered round, urging him to get up. When it became clear he was not going to get up, the captain, a tall blond boy called Owein, turned to Gaspi, who was the only boy apart from Ferast who was not already playing.

“Want to take Alek’s place?” he called out. Gaspi didn’t need asking twice, but got up and walked out into the courtyard. The other boys didn’t show any outward friendliness, but neither were they hostile. It seemed as if hostilities were to be suspended while the game lasted.

“Have you ever played before?” the tall blond boy asked him.

“Nope. Doesn’t look too hard, though.”

“Well, just try and put the ball through the goal, yeah?”

Gaspi nodded.

“Want to hang back for a bit, play in defence while you get a feel for it?”

“No,” Gaspi responded. “I’ll do what Alek was doing.” Alek had been playing near the goal, picking up long balls and trying to score. This is what Gaspi had been really good at in Koshta, and he was itching to put the ball through the goal.

“Everyone alright with that?” the blond boy asked.

“Yes, Owein,” a thick-set boy with tightly curled, wiry hair answered. The others nodded.

“Fair enough,” Owein said. “You’re up the front of the pitch. Keep your eye out for the ball when we pass it to you, and if you get clear of everyone, yell for the ball.” Gaspi nodded.

“Everyone ready?” Owein asked. He placed the ball on the ground, and Gaspi sprang into motion, sprinting down the pitch past the other boys, getting into the kind of position Alek had been holding. Owein passed to the thick-set lad, who muscled through the pack by sheer force more than skill, keeping the ball close to his feet. Half way down the pitch he saw that Gaspi was in a few feet of clear space, and passed the ball forward to him. Gaspi had been running backwards, keeping his eyes on the ball, and saw it coming. It bounced high several feet in front of him and Gaspi knew what he had to do. 

He lifted his leg to trap the ball, and amazingly it worked, the ball slapping against his thigh and dropping to the floor at his feet. Turning round, he brought the ball with him, and as the defenders closed in he aimed for the narrowing gap between them, through which he could see the open goal. He thrust out his foot and struck the ball - but he only hit it with the outside of his foot, and the ball went spinning off to the right, bouncing off the pitch.

Gaspi’s face flushed red with embarrassment, and as he turned round to face the team he expected derision, but to his surprise there was no laughter, and Owein clapped him on the back as he turned to run back down the pitch. After that Gaspi grew in confidence. His speed came in handy, and his team mates soon grasped that he could get himself into open space very quickly, and out-pace anyone on the pitch if they gave him the ball. Though the ball sometimes bobbled over his feet and he occasionally lost control, his touch on the ball was becoming defter by the minute. Everand’s team scored another goal, putting them ahead by three, and it was Owein’s team’s turn to kick off from a marked spot in the centre of the courtyard. When a goal was scored, all the players had to return to their half of the pitch, and couldn’t move until the ball was struck from its spot by the team who had lost the last goal.

Owein put the ball on the spot, and murmured intently to Gaspi and the thick-set lad, “Gav, go right, Gaspi go long. I’ll act as if I’m passing to Gaspi but will put it through to you instead, Gav. Gaspi - get in the middle and make some space, and Gav will pass it across to you. Your job is to put it in the goal before the defence can block you. Got it?” Gaspi and Gav nodded.

Owein kicked off, passing the ball back to a small, dark-haired boy. The second the ball had been touched Gaspi was off, sprinting up the left hand side, trying to draw players to him to create space in the middle. The ball was passed back to Owein, who kept it under control with some clever footwork as Everand tried to take it off him. Gav was most of the way down the pitch on the right by now, and, picking his moment perfectly, Eric made a long pass. The ball curved high over everyone’s heads and came down right in Gav’s path, who brought it under control after a couple of bounces, and looked up to find Gaspi.

Gaspi waited until the moment Gav looked up, then ducked around two boys and sprinted into the middle, several yards out from goal, finding clear space just as Gav’s foot struck the ball. It was as if everything was happening slowly. The ball sailed towards Gaspi, turning in the air as it came, passing over the head of a leaping defender and curving down towards Gaspi. It was coming down at waist height, and Gaspi knew from the sounds of feet pounding the floor behind him that he didn’t have time to bring it down before aiming. Leaping into the air he swung his foot around, powering the stroke from his hip, trying to catch the ball in mid-flight. His foot struck the ball solidly, re-directing it towards the goal. The goalkeeper leaped at the ball, but Gaspi’s strike was fast and accurate - and though he leaped with outstretched arms, the boy landed with a loud “Umph!” several feet from the ball, which had sailed past him, through the goal.

There was a loud cheer from some of the boys on Gaspi’s team, who seemed to have momentarily forgotten they were meant to be ignoring him. Gaspi was elated, both by the cheering of the team and the satisfaction of scoring. This was almost as good as Koshta! Turning around, he grinned wildly at Emea and Lydia, who were also cheering. Owein looked pleased and Gav flashed him a grin, but as he surveyed the other boys’ faces he saw uncertainty, or a kind of blankness as they controlled their reactions, flicking nervous looks at Everand. Everand’s face was dark with dislike, and no-one on his team was smiling.

His excitement muted but not quenched, Gaspi jogged back down the pitch, anxious to get back into the fray. The game lasted another twenty minutes, and although Gaspi didn’t score again he came close twice and made a good pass to Gav, who put another one through the goal.

The game ended with Everand’s team winning seven to six, and the boys traipsed off the courtyard looking dusty and tired. Gaspi was under no illusions that his exclusion from the group was over, but felt that at least with Owein and Gav that the ice had thawed a little. Telling Emea he’d see her at supper, he followed the other boys into the dormitory to clean up.

That evening Taurnil came to meet them at the college, and they went out into the city to find a tavern. It turned out they didn’t need to wander far, as only two streets away there was an inviting place called the Travellers Rest. It wasn’t built in the curvaceous style or the reddish stone of the rest of the city, but was made of large blocks of squared-off, pale stone. It was a sprawling maze of a building, two stories high, made without any apparent design. Its contours didn’t show a single straight line and unexpected wings of the structure sprang out of nowhere, golden light spilling out of many windows. Gaspi led the way up to the bar and ordered in ales for him and Taurnil, and wine for the girls.

“Students, are you?” the barmaid asked, with an amused look.

Gaspi and the girls nodded. “Not me,” Taurnil said. “I’m training with the guards.”

The barmaid was pretty and young, and gave Taurnil an appraising look. “City guard, eh?” she asked, twirling a lock of blond hair around a finger. “I can’t deny a city guard his ale, but I can’t serve these three…unless you buy it for them, of course. Got to be fifteen to buy beer, you know!” Gaspi was crestfallen, but to Taurnil’s credit, he didn’t gloat as he bought the drinks, even if his chest was a little more puffed out than normal. Gaspi thought he saw his friend’s eyes flicking towards Lydia. Every last corner of the bar was filled with people, and a loud buzz of conversation filled the air, rising and falling in waves, peals of laughter regularly rising above the general thrum.

They had to search for several minutes to find seats, wondering through the unexpected twists and turns of the enormous establishment. At the front of the tavern was the main bar, large and open and decorated in old brass and dark, heavy wood. The walls were ornamented from floor to ceiling with curious items; currency from different regions, aging parchment announcing events long past, polished brass tools, and even the stuffed heads of dead animals covered every last foot. In the back was an equally large room with a raised stage in its back corner, which Gaspi assumed was for musicians to perform on, although it was empty at that moment. Round tables filled the rest of the room, and the walls in here too were festooned with musical curios. Numerous small nooks led off both rooms into cosy snugs stuffed with deeply-cushioned benches and chairs and small, round-topped tables, and it was in one of these that the four friends found somewhere to sit.