The Frostwoven Crown (Book 4) (27 page)

“A great wizard, yes,” Uncle Tinjin said, wincing as he flexed his reddened fingers, “but a terrible cook.”

“Why were
you
cooking breakfast anyway?” Garrett asked.

Uncle Tinjin smiled, looking a bit embarrassed. “It’s been so long since I've had to prepare my own food,” he said, “I thought I’d better get back into the practice.”

“Oh,” Garrett said.

Uncle dried his hands and looked at the kitchen zombie. “Tom, is it?” he said, using the name that Garrett had given the zombie, “Perhaps you should prepare the bacon.”

Tom the zombie moaned questioningly.

“Cook our breakfast, Tom… please,” Uncle sighed.

The zombie shambled out of his corner and began to slowly clean up the mess while Uncle Tinjin took his seat at the table.

Garrett sat down across from him. He felt a little knot in his throat to realize that this might be one of the last times he would see his Uncle. He pushed the thought out of his mind before it could take hold and make him start crying again.

“What kind of magic was that?” Garrett asked.

“Hmn?” Uncle Tinjin said, looking up from his hand, “That? That was something I learned a long time ago and far away… before I ever learned that there was more than one kind of magic. My teacher didn’t bother giving it a name to differentiate it from other schools. It was simply… magic.”

“But you didn’t use any essence,” Garrett said.

Uncle Tinjin chuckled. “Oh, it uses essence,” he said, “the caster’s.”

“Huh?”

“I used my own life force to power that spell,” Tinjin said.

“What do you mean?” Garrett asked, “You mean our blood works like the bug juice essence we use for other magic?”

“It’s not in the blood,” Tinjin said, “If it was, you might not be as safe around the vampires as you think you are now. That kind of magic is powered by our souls.”

“Souls? You mean like the ghost in us?” Garrett asked.

Uncle Tinjin shook his head. “You have an odd way of putting things, son, but, yes, like the ghost inside us.”

Garrett felt a sudden chill. “What happens if you use it all up?” he asked.

“You definitely don’t want to do that,” Tinjin said, “It isn’t a pretty sight.”

“How much do you have left?” Garrett asked, feeling suddenly afraid for his Uncle.

“I’m not in any danger of using it up, Garrett,” Tinjin laughed, “Your soul isn’t a finite resource. It grows and shrinks over time. Some people have strong, healthy souls… others… well, certain people should not dabble in soul magic, if they want to avoid a terrible fate.”

“Soul magic?”

Tinjin shrugged. “As good a name for it as any, I suppose,” he said.

“Can you teach me?” Garrett asked.

Tinjin looked at him with a sad smile then shook his head. “I’d sooner hand a cobra to a child.”

“What’s a cobra?” Garrett asked.

Uncle Tinjin stared at him, blank-faced. “It seems that I am a terrible teacher of biology as well.”

Garrett frowned. “Why won’t you teach me?” he asked, “Is it hard?”

“Well, yes,” Uncle Tinjin said, “but that’s not the reason.”

A wild thought suddenly occurred to Garrett. “If it takes time, I could go with you… I could help you, and you could teach me
soul magic!
”

Tinjin sighed and shook his head. “No, boy… I won’t teach you this magic because it is too dangerous,” he said.

“I’m not afraid!” Garrett said, “Really, I…”

“I know you’re not afraid, Garrett,” Tinjin said, “That is precisely why I won’t teach it to you… because
I
would be afraid… afraid that I might come back to find you…
used up.
It would kill me to know that I was responsible for that Garrett.”

Something in the old man’s expression warned Garrett not to pursue the matter further. He nodded and kept silent.

“Please understand,” Tinjin said, “I love you far too much to teach you certain things.”

“I understand,” Garrett said.

Tinjin looked over to where Tom was piling a fresh heap of bacon into the skillet. “Magic won’t bring you happiness Garrett,” he sighed, then added under his breath, “quite the opposite, really.”

Garrett shrugged. “It’s better than being powerless,” he said.

Uncle regarded him coldly.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Garrett said, looking across the table and regarding Tinjin for the first time, not as his uncle and master, but as a fellow sorcerer, “I mean, it’s better than not being able to do anything when bad people try to hurt you.”

Tinjin’s eyes fell. “Yes,” he said, “That is true.” He almost smiled, looking as though he would say something, but then the humor drained from his face and he simply sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Garrett asked.

Tinjin shook his head. “What do you want me to say, Garrett?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Garrett chuckled, “I figured you would tell me I was wrong or something… that it was better to be a regular person without magic… that magic was some sort of burden that we had to be careful about using so we didn’t turn into bad guys or something.”

“I’m not your teacher anymore,” Tinjin said.

The words hit Garrett like a physical blow, and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He looked across at Uncle Tinjin, feeling very small and afraid. “I’m sorry, Uncle,” he whispered.

Tinjin smiled. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Garrett,” he said, “From the sound of it, you paid enough attention to what I was saying back when I
was
your teacher. You are your own man now, and someday, you will teach others as I have taught you.”

“But I hardly know anything!” Garrett protested.

“Then you know more than any sorcerer I have ever met,” Tinjin laughed.

“What does that even mean?” Garrett demanded.

“It means that you understand how little you understand,” Tinjin said.

“That doesn’t really help,” Garrett sighed.

“It means that you have sense enough to keep your eyes open and learn from the world around you,” Tinjin said, “As long as you are willing to keep an open mind and let life teach you new things, you are in no danger of corruption… You will find that the true
bad guys
in this world are the ones who think they have it all worked out.”

The pan of bacon suddenly burst into flames once again, and Tom stepped back from the stove to pat sluggishly at the growing patch of flame on the front of his apron.

“Get dressed, Garrett,” Uncle Tinjin sighed, “As soon as I’ve finished extinguishing the zombie, I think we’ll be going out for breakfast.”

*******

Garrett shielded his face from the heat of an explosion of rainbow colored flame that left his eyes momentarily dazzled in the gloomy interior of the old mill.

Crane whistled appreciatively, and Diggs let out a, “Whoa!”

Mujah stood there, grinning, his eyes wide as he surveyed the smoldering remains of the old apple crate that had been his target.

“Nice, job, Mujah!” Garrett said.

Scupp clapped and cheered for the Lethian boy, and even Warren and Ymowyn seemed impressed from where they sat together in the corner, having grown bored with magic practice themselves.

Mujah walked over and handed his flask to Garrett. It felt only slightly cool and still mostly full in Garrett’s hand.

“I think maybe you were born to be a mage,” Garrett chuckled.

“Really?” Mujah exclaimed.

“I guess we’ll have to get you a fancier hat now,” Crane laughed.

“I like my hat,” Mujah said, grasping the brim of his blue felt hat protectively.

Garrett shook his head. “Your hat’s fine,” he laughed, “It doesn’t make a difference what you wear.”

Mujah looked thoughtful. “But I could wear a Magi’s robes if I wanted to, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Garrett said, “I’m not sure what you have to do to be a Magi, but, if I had to guess, I’d say you’d make a pretty good one.”

Mujah beamed.

“My turn,” Crane said.

Mujah moved back, letting the older boy take the center of the floor as Garrett dragged another empty crate over to the ashy pile beside the scorched millstone.

Crane grasped his essence flask in his left hand and held it out low like a dagger as he took a fighting stance with his right hand held high behind him. He wiggled his fingers mystically and took on an expression of intense concentration.

“You don’t really have to do that with your hand,” Mujah said.

“Style is always important, Mujah,” Crane scoffed, “Never forget that.”

Garrett hid his smile behind his glove as he rubbed his chin pensively.

“
Veiarnna te Maghrendaa!
” Crane cried out in a booming voice, pointing at the crate with his open hand. A lance of rainbow flame shot from his fingertip and traced a glowing path across the side of the crate before it faded away. A yellow tongue of flame leapt up from the box as it caught fire.

“Good job,” Garrett said.

“The box is still there, Crane,” Mujah said.

Crane frowned at him and then winced in pain as he pried the empty, frost-covered steel canister from the palm of his left hand. He flexed the feeling back into his fingers as he handed the drained canister over to Garrett. “I don’t think we’ll be needing any Magi robes in my size,” he laughed.

“You’re still learning,” Garrett said, “You get better with practice.”

Crane glanced toward Mujah and chuckled. “If Mujah gets any more practice, he’s gonna knock a hole in the wall next time.”

“My turn!” Diggs said, loping toward the center of the floor. He straightened to his full height and lifted a small talisman from his chest to his lips, kissing it before unstoppering his flask.

“What’s that, Diggs?” Garrett asked.

“Oh, this?” Diggs said, lifting the leather cord of his necklace to let the crystal pendant dangle away from his furry chest, “It’s my
focus
.”

“Your what?” Garrett asked.

“My… focus,” Diggs said, a bit more quietly, his eyes shifting uncomfortably.

Scupp stifled her laughter behind her paw.

“What’s it do?” Garrett asked.

“I dunno,” Diggs said, “It’s supposed to… you know… make my magic more powerful.”

“Where did you get that?” Garrett asked.

“He traded two death masks and a signet ring to a satyr for that piece o’ junk,” Scupp laughed.

Warren growled. “Diggs! I told you to stay away from those guys!”

Diggs bared his fangs at the other ghouls. “Laugh now, fools!” he grumbled, “But you’ll be laughin’ out the other side o’ your snouts when you behold the power of
Diggs the Destroyer!
”

Scupp rolled over backwards, snorting loudly, and Warren shook his head.

Diggs pointed at each of them in turn and gave them a menacing nod before turning his attention back to the crate before him.

Diggs tossed back his essence canister, gulping down the contents as quickly as he could.

“Not the whole flask!” Garrett groaned, “Diggs!”

“Let ‘im do it,” Scupp hissed, gasping for air through her laughter, “It’s funnier that way!”

Diggs wiped a dribble of green slime from the corner of his mouth and cast the empty canister away. He grasped the crystal pendant tightly in his right paw and pointed at the burning crate with his left.

“
Veerna ta Magrunda!
” Diggs growled, glowing essence bubbling out between his teeth.

Nothing happened.

“
Veerna ta Magr
… Ow!” he shouted, suddenly releasing his grip on the crystal pendant. It fell against his chest, the previously clear crystal now glowing a vibrant green and emitting a piercing whine that grew louder by the moment, even as the green glow strengthened in intensity. His fur began to smolder where the crystal touched it.

Diggs stared down in horror, first beating at the blazing crystal with his paws then trying to tear the leather cord from his neck.

“Get it off! Get it off!” he howled.

Scupp was beside him then. She grabbed hold of the necklace cord and yanked hard. Digg’s eyes bulged as the leather cord dug into his neck without breaking. He choked out a strangled, “
Help!
”

Suddenly Crane rushed to his side, slashing the cord free with his knife, freeing the singed ghoul. The crystal necklace bounced across the floor, its radiance now so intense that it left a trail of afterglow in Garrett’s eyes as he scrambled to retrieve it. The crystal screamed with a piercing whine that caused the ghouls and Lady Ymowyn to fall to their knees with their paws clutched over their ears.

The human boys faired little better, but Garrett was able to snatch the crystal up, feeling it vibrating with such intensity that it numbed his hand through his glove. He turned and hurled it through one of the broken windows in the nearest wall.