The Young Magician (The Legacy Trilogy) (30 page)

‘So I hear, too,’ Lomar said with laughter. ‘I’m glad we found you first.’

‘I’ve had some offers,’ Samuel admitted.

‘Balthazar?’ Lomar asked.

‘Of course,’ Samuel said with a grin. ‘He accosts me almost every time I go into the city.’

‘He has a way of being a nuisance. Still, you seem to have learned how to handle him.’

Samuel nodded. ‘He seems harmless enough.’

‘And I trust the Adept will not be bullying you any further?’

Samuel shook his head. ‘From what the Grand Master says, they nearly wet themselves.’

Lomar laughed long and loud. He was wearing a simple pair of trousers and a lace-up shirt. Both had been bleached almost grey by the sun. With his dark skin and worn clothes, he could probably pass as one of the dock workers hailing from the Spice Islands, although his blood was obviously of a different origin.

‘I think it was right of you to teach them a lesson, Samuel. They have only a short time left here in the school and, if they haven’t grown out of their bullying by now, then they will make terrible magicians. Which reminds me, the graduation is only a few weeks away. Are you ready?’

‘Hmm, not quite,’ Samuel replied. ‘I mean, I’m confident that I’ll make Adept, but I’ve been practising a few tricks that still need a little work.’

‘Well, nothing that will embarrass the teachers, I hope.’

‘Not the ones I like, anyway.’

Lomar laughed and shook his head. ‘Well, I’m sorry that I won’t be there to see it, but I have a lot of road before me.’

‘Really?’ Samuel asked. ‘Where are you going, now?’

‘I cannot tell you, Samuel. Suffice to say that it’s lucky that I can speak a little Garten.’ He winked.

‘Don’t they speak any Turian up there?’ Samuel asked.

At that, Lomar laughed. ‘No, not at all. Turian is spoken only here in the Empire. If you spoke the Emperor’s tongue there, you would certainly be beaten or have something you value chopped off. Even in some of the outlying areas of the Empire the people still resist using the common tongue.’

Samuel
hmm
’ed and nodded. ‘How many languages
do
you know then?’ Samuel asked, leaning on his rake handle.

Lomar thought a moment. ‘Oh…let me see. Turian, some Garten, Old Tongue of course, a dialect or two from the desert folk and several variants of Kabushy.’

‘Kabushy?’

‘That is correct,’ Lomar responded with a slight smile. ‘Kabushy is my mother tongue. I’m sure you realised I am no native Turian. Do you want to hear some Kabushy? Some people say it’s a rattling language, but I think it sounds rather musical.’

‘Yes, of course’ Samuel said with an enthusiastic nod.

‘Sama habala eh tettu a kunna
,’ Lomar said.

Samuel laughed so hard he dropped his rake and nearly fell over. ‘That sounds ridiculous! What does it mean?’

‘Roughly, it means, “
may the water god protect you”
.’

‘Are you trying to trick me?’

Lomar shook his head in all seriousness. ‘Life is hard in Kabush. It’s an enormous delta, filled with marshland and swamps. There is a lot of water, which can be both a blessing and a curse. There are also many gods in Kabush. They are very important in my culture.’

‘You worship gods?’ Samuel asked in disbelief.

‘I occasionally say a prayer or two, but it’s mainly from habit. My people are very religious—not like you dry-footed infidels,’ he added with a grin. ‘I don’t really follow any of my people’s religions any more, but I admit I still revert to some of my old habits from time to time. It can’t hurt, after all. You probably don’t know it, but Amandia had many popular religions until the Emperor erased most of them. The Turian church he established is little more than another outlet to spread Imperial ideals. He is quite set on the fact that everyone only worships him, so I believe.’

‘Shh!
’ Samuel urged his tall friend. ‘I’m sure talk like that is not such a good idea.’

Lomar laughed. ‘Don’t worry. I am not such a fool as to let anyone hear. So what of your studies? How are they faring?’

‘Not too poorly, even if I say so myself. I can use the Old Tongue quite fluently now,’ Samuel said. He took up his rake again and scraped half-heartedly at some yellowed leaves that were skittering away with the breeze. ‘I remember learning my first phrase when I was at the Burning Oak, but at the time I had no idea what it was.’

‘I have heard the story from Master Kelvin.’

‘Then you know what happened to me then? At first, I thought it was the words themselves that held the power. Then, as I learned more of the Old Tongue, I realised their true meaning. “
I am one with the universe. The universe and I are everything and nothing—everything and nothing, as one, together.”
They were just words, and it was
I
that gave them power, not the other way around, as I thought. They merely helped me to centre my thoughts.’

‘Wise words from someone so young. I hope you continue along your current path, Samuel.’

‘But do any words truly contain magic?’ Samuel asked. ‘There have been few lessons on the topic.’

‘As with all things, there is power in form. Some words have a form that is more powerful than others. They resonate with the ether to give lend to what we call
magic.
We have a fairly good ability to detect the power of words. For instance, in all the languages that I know, the words for “hate” are harsh and abrasive sounding, while those for “love” are usually gentler in tone. Apart from that, there is little more power in words than the meaning they convey.’

‘What about the Ancient Lick?’ Samuel asked.

‘You know about the Lick?’ Lomar said with surprise.

‘Only very little. I came across a few notes in the library, but there seems to be very little on the subject. It is a lost language. Every word contained immense power.’

‘The ravings of madmen,’ Lomar said dismissively. ‘The Lick was not lost; it was buried. It still exists, but only in the minds of the evil and demented. Do not search for such things, Samuel. Magicians do not speak of the Lick because it is one of the few forbidden topics of the Order. If you found some writings, destroy them and do not look for more.’

‘But—’

‘This is my advice to you, Samuel,’ Lomar said sternly and sounding quite out of character. ‘There are few things so dangerous that we cannot even look or hear or think of them, but the Lick is one.’

Samuel could not help but be disappointed. He had thought perhaps the Ancient Lick would be some new marvellous area for him to study.

‘Now, I would like to stay longer,’ Lomar continued, and his tone had reverted to its usual pleasant self, ‘but I was not even supposed to stop in Cintar. I hope it is not so long before we meet again.’

‘It’s a shame you can’t stay longer.’

‘Yes, I must go. Order business keeps me forever busy. Farewell, Samuel, and good luck with everything.’ Lomar went to move away, then something occurred to him and he stopped.

‘On a serious note, Samuel, you should be wary of some of these men who come to persuade you. Balthazar is an amusing fellow, but some of the others can be dangerous.’

‘I had assumed the same, Lomar. I try to be polite to them and they quickly get the point.’

‘What about the
Circle of Eyes
? Ah, I see you have heard of them,’ he added upon noting Samuel’s reaction. ‘They are murderers, criminals, thieves and cut-throats, Samuel. Some of them are even magicians. I have yet to see any real proof of their existence, but I do not doubt they do exist, judging from the rumours alone. If you meet them, Samuel, be careful. I hear they do not always take “no” for an answer.’

‘I understand, Lomar. I’ll be careful.’

With that, Lomar bade farewell and gave one of his most beaming smiles. He then strode away, leaving Samuel alone with his yard full of leaves. Samuel sighed and dropped his rake to the ground and he, too, strode off, leaving the task behind. He would wait for a not so windy day.

The weeks seemed to pass as quickly as a single afternoon and, before Samuel knew it, everyone was talking about graduation and readying their spells. As usual, Samuel had been buried in his studies and did not realise the time had sneaked up on him quite so quickly. The apprentices spent the late afternoon busily rehearsing their spells and then putting on their cleanest, most formal robes. They gobbled down their dinners and, as they heard calls out in the yard, they all hurried out across the grounds to gather in the Great Hall. The benches had all been adjusted so as to form concentric circles around a clear space in the middle of the great chamber.

‘I heard the Archmage is coming,’ Eric Pot mentioned, as they squeezed sideways to their seats. The hall was full of excitement and chatter as everyone eagerly awaited the night’s events.

‘I don’t think so,’ Goodfellow corrected. ‘He never comes to things like this. He’s far too busy.’

‘Shh!’ someone urged them from behind, for Grand Master Anthem was readying to speak, and the entire congregation quickly fell silent. The old magician was adjusting his robes and talking to the other teachers seated around him. Then he turned to face the crowd of excited students and Masters alike. They were expecting some sort of long, formal speech, but the old Grand Master surprised them all by saying just a few words.

‘The graduation will now begin,’ he said with a childish grin and promptly sat back down.

Master Dividian then stood, coughed to clear his throat, and began his own address.

‘Welcome, everyone,’ he said, without any hint of amusement. His voice was dry and raspy. ‘Before we begin, I would like to say a few words. Tonight is a special night, for we choose those magicians that are ready to progress to the next stage of their education, be it from apprentice to Adept, or from Adept to Master. By the grace of His Utmost Highness the Emperor of Turia, and under the guidance of Archmage Ordi, the Order of Magicians has long produced the finest standard of magicians in the world. I trust we will continue that tradition tonight as we review some of the finest examples of budding magicians that we have to offer. For those Adept who will be leaving the school soon as Masters of the Order of Magicians, I hope you will always remember to uphold the fine reputation of our school, and remember that everything you do is for the good of the Empire and our most splendid Emperor.’

‘Hear! Hear!’ came a few calls of agreement from the crowd.

‘Damned Imperials!’ Eric whispered, leaning to Samuel’s ear.

Samuel chuckled as Master Dividian continued.

‘So without further delay, let us continue. Who is the first one?’ Dividian was passed a list. ‘Where are we now? Ah, Eric Pot.’

Eric almost leapt from his seat with surprise. He gave Samuel and Goodfellow a mischievous smile as he stood and adjusted his robes, coughing to clear his throat for good measure. He strode regally out into the centre of the Great Hall and waited patiently while Master Dividian continued his discussion with Grand Master Anthem and the other teachers. Finally, Master Dividian returned his attention to Eric, adjusting his spectacles and staring out at the patient apprentice.

‘Eric,’ Master Dividian called out quite loudly, ‘
Ebanda totum ara
.’

Eric raised an eyebrow and did as he was told, bending down and touching his toes.

‘Very good,’ Dividian continued. ‘Your knowledge of the Old Tongue seems reasonable. Now please demonstrate what you have learned in your time here. I trust you have prepared a suitable spell.’

Eric reached into a pocket and produced a small, sealed pouch. Without a pause, he loosened the drawstring and flicked the contents up into the air. A stream of glittering dust sprayed out, filling the air but, as quick as a flash, Eric had formed a power matrix with one hand and his spell was set. The glittering powder was caught in the spell and instead of spilling down onto the floor, flew up higher towards the beamed ceiling, carried by magic. Eric stood erect, with one hand resting behind his back, and the other held before him, directing his spell with slight movements of his raised finger. The glitter began to gather into long ribbons and began rippling around the ceiling, coiling and darting almost as if it were some golden serpent brought to life. The congregation applauded, clapping their hands together and nodding to each other with approval. Samuel was also greatly impressed. To direct each individual speck of glitter was, of course impossible, but Eric’s spell was ingenious and quite a masterwork of efficiency. Only the
head
of the spell need be directed and each speck of glitter followed in turn. Samuel applauded as loud as he could, for his friend’s spell was remarkable.

The golden serpent flew sinuously around the ceiling, darting from wall to wall, spinning in circular formations and streaking down around the congregation. Finally, Eric held his small sack aloft and the glittering stream snaked down towards it and darted in as quickly as lightning, disappearing right into the tiny pouch. To finish, Eric made a small bow and the crowd applauded once more. A great grin was set on his face and it was obvious that he, too, was pleased with his own display.