The Book of Deacon (37 page)

"Yes," Myranda said, the effort of doing so
nearly breaking the concentration.

"Feed it," his voice replied.

At first, Myranda was at a loss. Feed it
what? Fire needed wood or oil, something to burn. She had nothing.
It mystified her that this flame could even exist, floating in
mid-air. What did he mean?

"Feel the heat," the dragon instructed.

Slowly, Myranda became awake of a dull
feeling of warmth filtering into her mind from the outside.

"Now feel beyond the heat. Feel it with your
mind," he said.

Myranda probed further. After an eternity,
she finally found it. The feeling came like a torrent. It was the
energy of the fire. Not the temperature or the light, something
deeper than that. Something fundamental. The essence of the fire.
Feeling it now was like opening her eyes for the first time. It was
a new sense, one she would later find was the basis for all of the
magic she would be taught.

"Just as the fire has an energy, so does your
spirit. Look inside yourself. Feel your energy. Control it," he
said.

Myranda turned her focus inward slightly,
searching for the same sort of power that she felt in the flame.
Gradually, she became aware of an energy within. It wasn't the same
feeling as the fire, but it was similar. Controlling the strange
power was a challenge. If feeling the essence was like using a new
sense for the first time, controlling it was like using a new
limb.

Myranda did not know where to begin. Every
minor attempt she made to influence it resulted in an almost random
shifting and changing of the power. It was like trying to learn to
wiggle her ears. She knew what she wanted to do, but she simply
could not manage to do it. Repeated failed attempts were only
beginning to give her a sense of the nature of her control over
this energy when Solomon's voice broke through for a final
time.

"That will be all for today," he said.

Myranda brought herself out of the trance.
The first rays of dawn were painting the sky orange. Of the crowd
that had been watching her, only Deacon remained. He was mid-yawn,
book in hand, as always. Myn was sleeping beside her. The night of
strong thought had taken its toll. She was feeling the bizarre lack
of will that had always followed her practice sessions with
Wolloff, but to a far greater degree. Her body was affected by the
hours of sitting motionless in the cold of night as well. Both of
her legs were asleep and her back was agonizingly sore.

"We will continue tonight. I expect you to be
fully rested," Solomon said. "In the meantime, I would like to take
Myn to be fed, but she will follow more willingly if you join
her."

Myranda tried unsuccessfully to get to her
feet, discovering in the process that her left hand was extremely
tender for some reason. Deacon approached to help her, but Myn
snapped into wakefulness and kept him at bay. Myranda leaned
heavily on the dragon to stand. It soon became clear that the
dragon would not be able to keep her standing alone, and
reluctantly Deacon's aid was accepted.

"I have never been so tired," Myranda
said.

"Well, this style of magic is a bit more
taxing on the mind. Also, you were not using a crystal. Tomorrow we
will give you a training one," he said.

"Why does my hand hurt?" she asked, casting
her blurred vision to her hand. It was red and irritated.

"I had warned you about that. When Solomon
asked you to feel the fire, he placed your hand a bit closer than
he ought to have. Your trance was strong enough to overlook the
pain. That is admirable," he said.

"In the three months that I have been at
this, I have never felt so--" Myranda began, only to be cut off by
an excited Deacon.

"
Three
months!"
he interjected.

"Yes, I had told you I had only had a bit of
white magic training," she said.

"Around here 'a bit of training' is two
years, minimum. You have demonstrated a depth and quality of
concentration vastly disproportionate to your level of training,"
he said, rummaging through his bag to retrieve his book. He hastily
scribbled something down in it as he repeated his last words
incredulously.

"Have I?" Myranda said. In her current state
of mind, the act of forming a sentence was an incredible effort.
Comprehension was impossible.

"I will meet you at the arena. Just follow
Solomon," he said as he rushed off toward his hut.

With the support of Deacon's arm so suddenly
gone, Myranda nearly tumbled to the ground. Thankfully, Myn rushed
to the faltering side to shore her up.

The pair made their way unsteadily to a
bizarre sight. There was an enormous circle of crystal on the
ground, perhaps one hundred paces across. At three points along the
edge, there were spires of the same crystal, each elegantly carved
from bottom to top with various runes and symbols. The crystal was
clear as water, perhaps with a tint of blue. Solomon was waiting at
the edge.

In a few inaudible words of his language, he
summoned Myn, who would only leave Myranda's side when the wavering
girl had taken a seat on the ground. Then the two dragons stepped
onto the crystal surface and swiftly vanished. Myranda struggled to
decide whether what she had seen had actually happened, or if her
ailing mind was playing tricks with her eyes. She was still working
at it when Deacon carefully sat beside her, holding a steaming cup
in his hands.

"Drink this," he said as he handed her the
cup.

Myranda took the cup and carefully put it to
her lips. The flavor was powerfully bitter, though after the long,
cool night the warmth felt good going down. Almost immediately, she
felt her mind clearing. It was as though a fog in her mind was
being lifted. A few more sips and she felt almost herself
again.

"This is incredible. What is it?" she asked
him.

"A special tea made from the leaves of a
plant that bears seed only during a full moon," he said as he
opened his book and flipped to a blank page.

"I feel as though I could endure another
night of training," she said.

"You may feel that way, but the tea only
restores your mind, not your mana. Your spirit is still spent. To
restore that, you would need the seeds of the plant, or more so its
dew," he said, carefully adding a heading to the page that
prominently bore Myranda's name.

"Will I be taking this tea after every
training session?" she asked.

"I am afraid not. As a rule, it is best to
recover naturally," he said.

"Then why have you given this to me now?" she
asked.

"Because I am a profoundly impatient man at
times," he said.

"Impatient for what?" she asked.

"Knowledge about you," he said.

"Why me?" she asked.

"Simple. Your performance today. I have seen
people who have had three years of training and were happy with
what you have managed. You have had only three months! Such a
natural predisposition toward magic is not unheard of, but it is
extremely rare. We can only attest to having three here in our
history, and only one that we witnessed. People with your
uniqueness are still an enigma to us," he said.

"My performance today was awful. I failed,"
she said.

"You failed to affect the fire, perhaps, but
you learned to sense essence and you began to manipulate your own.
Those two skills are the sole benefits of our beginner's training,
which normally takes five years! You've nearly completed them on
your first day!" he said.

"Then why would . . ." Myranda began as she
turned back to the strange sight before her. Suddenly, she
remembered what was occupying her mind before he appeared. "What is
that? And why did Myn vanish?"

"Oh. That is the crystal arena. To my
knowledge, it is absolutely unique in the world. We found the
single largest deposit of focus stone in existence when we came
here, and in the years that followed, we crafted this. Within it,
magic is effortless, concentration is unnecessary, and you will
feel no draw on your own mana. Solomon uses it as a hunting ground.
Our founder, Azriel, makes her home there. She conjures up a forest
and Solomon hunts down--well, that," he said, indicating three
large bags of fish that were being carried to the arena by people
in red tunics. Once placed within the arena, they too vanished.

"Azriel transforms the fish into whatever
prey Solomon would like and he hunts and eats his fill. I expect
now Myn will receive the same treatment," he said. "Now, if you
don't mind, Myranda. I have some questions for you."

"Ask," she said, taking another sip from her
tea.

As the sun climbed in the sky, Deacon
proceeded to ask Myranda to summarize her life, beginning with
birth. As she spoke, he faithfully recorded the details. Before
long, Myn emerged from the arena, clutching a fish in her mouth.
She dropped it to the ground and sniffed it with confusion, as it
had not been a fish when she was inside of the arena, but soon
decided one meal was as good as another and presented it to Myranda
in exchange for the usual reward. Myranda suggested that they take
a break to cook the food, lest she seem ungrateful to the dragon,
but Deacon merely snapped his fingers and the fish was instantly
cooked to a turn.

It was well into the morning before Deacon
was satisfied with his answers.

"Excellent, truly excellent. You should head
off to bed. I have got to go over your life story and compare it to
our notes on prodigies. Also, I will see to it that when you awaken
you will have a crystal. Would you like it in an amulet as before,
or in a staff? As a beginner, I would recommend the staff. It will
give you something to lean on," he said.

"Whatever you think is best," she said.

"Excellent," he repeated, as he walked
eagerly off to his work.

"Wait! Don't you ever sleep?" she asked.

"Not if I can avoid it. Tremendous waste of
time," he said.

Myranda trudged wearily to the hut she had
been provided with, dragon in tow. She pushed open the door and
readied herself for bed. When she had climbed in, Myn joined her as
always, but she did not go to sleep as she usually did. She had,
after all, been sleeping most of the night while Myranda was busy
with her training. For several minutes, she fidgeted and shifted
restlessly. Finally, she took a long sniff at the air and jumped
down from the bed and pushed open the window shutters.

"What is wrong, little one?" Myranda
asked.

Myn took another long smell and looked
longingly into the distance. It didn't take long for Myranda to
figure out what the creature wanted.

"You want to spend some time with
him,"
Myranda
said.

Myn seemed to give a quite spirited answer to
the affirmative. The little dragon had been quite affectionate to
Leo when they were traveling together. It was only natural she
would desire his company in this place.

"He cannot be trusted, you know. He lied to
me and did terrible things," Myranda warned.

The dragon was unswayed.

"Go," Myranda said.

She had not even finished the syllable before
Myn disappeared out the window and scampered off. Myranda pulled
herself from the bed and closed the window. When she returned to
the bed, she dropped quickly off into a dreamless sleep. Usually
she would have been disappointed to be without dreams, but judging
from the horrible nightmares she had been having, this was a
blessing.

#

Myranda's eyes opened heavily to the fading
rays of the sun as they flowed through the open window. Myn had
managed to pull the shutters open and let herself in, or she had
been helped. At any rate, she had nestled atop Myranda at some time
during the day.

The girl rose from bed and dressed. Fresh
clothes were a welcome change to the life she had been living of
late, though pulling on her worn boots was all too familiar. She
briefly considered asking for something better, but so much had
been done for her already, she decided against it.

As she stepped outside and felt the cool dusk
air, Myn jumped down and followed her. She closed the door and
decided to have some breakfast just as soon as she could remember
where the food was served. Deacon appeared and walked eagerly up to
her as she wandered in what she believed was the correct direction.
The young man's face held the telltale signs of a sleepless night,
but he seemed none the worse for wear. Indeed, he seemed to be just
as excited as he had been the night before, if not more so.

"Good evening, good evening. I trust you
slept well," he said.

"Indeed, I did. Did you sleep at all?" she
asked.

"Heavens no! Too much to do. Sleep can wait.
Come this way. I have something for you to do," he said.

"I was actually looking forward to
breakfast," she said.

"Breakfast? Oh, of course. I suppose I had
better eat as well, lest I forget again," he said.

The pair took a meal with Myn more than a
little distracted by the constant flow of words from Deacon's
mouth. He scarcely took a moment to swallow, so eager was he to
speak.

"I compared what you told me about yourself
to the records we have of the others. The prodigies. It seems clear
that there is most certainly a familial influence. Your parents
were each uncommonly intelligent. Likely, had they tried their
hands at magic, they would have excelled as well. I must say,
though, in reviewing your story, I found a few points puzzling. You
say just before you entered this place, you discovered that Leo was
not what you had thought him to be," he said, taking advantage of
her answer to slurp a few hasty spoonfuls of the stew.

"Yes. I recognized his voice as the man who
had captured me and killed those men in front of the church. A
crime that I was to be blamed for, no less," she said.