“The proper word for what I do is metaphysics, but most people who know about it call it The Talent.” They’d been on the path for about an hour. The hills were getting steep and uneven, and Rose’s arms were killing her. According to the captain, there was probably still a small town ten or fifteen miles up the path, so she’d decided that now was as good a time as any to come clean with the magical poof.
“I thought you made a face when I said the word the other day. I puzzled over it for hours, but I could not get to the bottom of it. I admit, despite my study, I have never heard of this talent of yours.” Emrys was speaking more easily from beside her now, though he was a little out of breath. He’s out of breath? He’s just walking! How soft was this mage?
“Yeah, it’s a rare thing and we don’t yell about it. We make folks like you nervous.”
“Why should that be? My own skills are quite different from those of a generalist mage and theirs are quite different from those of a church Censor. Why would you need to be more secret?”
Well. In for a day, in for a season. “How do you arrest a mage?”
Emrys was quiet for a few moments. “I assume you don’t just mean legally. You mean the practical concerns. It helps if you can bind their hands and mouth so that they cannot evoke the words or sigils of magic. You would also be wise to remove any objects of power or prepared items that might carry triggered theory infused within them.” He pulled a face and Rose figured he was realizing why Rose had tossed his necklace down the stairs. “Is that what you mean?”
“I think so, yeah. But none of that works on me.”
She craned her neck to look up and saw Emrys chewing on his lips in thought. “How do you mean?”
“There’s no chanting. There’s no magic words. There’s no gestures, no glowing crystals. I am the source of the power. You can bind and gag and blindfold me and it barely slows me down.” She paused to let that sink in. “That’s what makes the mages and especially the church Censors nervous. They don’t like things they can’t control.”
“But if there are no … hrm. So where does the power come from, then?” He still didn’t get it. She’d literally just said it.
“From me. I was born with it. Not that I knew that when I was young, but it came on in its time. The first time I lit my eyes up, you can bet it made an impression. My -” She paused remembering. “Anyway, it made things complicated. And as you can imagine, with there being so few of us, it’s hard to track down a teacher, but mine found me. Some of us communicate with one another. They gather sometimes and track down new Talents. Help us out. Train us.”
“Are you in contact with them?”
Rose let that hang for a while. She didn’t want to say it. But whatever. “I’m off the ring for now. I’m on my own. My teacher didn’t want me to leave.”
“He didn’t want you to save your mother? That is …” Yeah, he was getting it. Rose saw his face dim a bit. Maybe mages weren’t so different after all. “So, no family for people like you? Is that it?”
Rose shrugged. “Whatever, it’s not like a huge loss. My mom’s a garbage person.” She could hear him opening his mouth to object. “I thought you wanted to know about the stuff I could do.”
“Yes. Of course. Last night I saw your eyes make light and, of course, I am aware of the purple light thing.” He absently rubbed between his eyebrows.
“Well, yeah, there’s those. Honestly, that’s the small stuff. The most useful thing I can do is called rewriting. I think it’s the sort of thing you’d call transubstantiation. I change something into something else. Like, back at the library, I got in by turning the lock into a jewelry box for a bit. I can’t do big stuff, but small stuff can be pretty handy. And I can usually pull off minor versions of all that stuff. That’s actually more difficult, but it doesn’t strain quite so hard.”
“Strain?” Emrys had caught that fast, but magic types were good at picking out technical terms, even when they couldn’t see the capitalized letters and fancy writing. “So this thing you do is difficult?”
Rose sighed. “Yeah, sometimes. Actually, to be honest, it’s always hard. It’s like -” What the hell was it like? What was it like that she could explain to him? “Like reading a book too close to your face? Or like, trying to force your eyes to focus on two different things that aren’t the same distance away, you know? You can force it for a few seconds, but it’s draining. And the results are pretty much the same. I get headaches, dizzy spells, nose bleeds, that kind of thing.”
“Sounds like it could be dangerous.”
“Nah,” said Rose, as if it were true. “Nothing too dangerous. It’s not like it could kill me.”
Rose grunted as she heaved herself up over a small hill and Emrys made to reach for the chair. “I’ve got it!” she shouted. He moved his hands away as if he’d been slapped.
“I just thought -”
“Don’t bother thinking. I got up your stupid stairs, I can get up a stupid hill.” Why was she so mad? She wasn’t quite sure. It had been so long since she’d let anyone push her….
Emrys was sullen for a bit, but it was a moot point soon because they stopped for lunch and that gave her a chance to rest up. Lunch was an amazing spread of fresh fruit, vegetables, soft cheese, and cooked meat. The folks on the boat had insisted they take some for the road and it wouldn’t keep very long, so the best place to store it was on the inside.
An hour later and her arms were burning again, but she wasn’t about to let on. Emrys was breathing heavy once more and by the time they made a small camp that night she was not prepared to keep any sort of lookout. They were amid sparse scrub and rocky ground, so it wasn’t exactly the best place to camp anyway. She was preparing for a miserable night when Emrys knelt down and started talking to the fucking dirt. He put his forehead to the ground like a monk and whispered! Rose looked away, assuming it was some sort of religious thing that was none of her business, but then a moment later there was an honest to gods rumble in the earth. A real one, not just a sound, she felt the chair shuddering. Emrys said, “My friend can help us find a safe place to rest.”
Rose was torn. Did she want to make a joke about a rock finding them a tavern? Yes. Did she also want to make a joke about how it was sure to be a shit place? Of course. But …. to be honest, this was sort of neat.
The ground rumbled more and a little ways off the path, in the sparse light of sunset, Rose could see a hole just …. open up in the side of a hill. It was a little like it was opening its mouth. Or maybe a little like it was opening its butt, because this thing was never intended to open like this. And then Emrys was just walking towards the hole. “Wait, umm, are you sure that’s safe?” He didn’t even answer. Dick. Rose followed.
The inside was, much to Rose’s complete shock, more dirt. Dirt floor, dirt walls, dirt ceiling. There was even a little private alcove in the back with a deep dirt hole in the dirt leading to more dirt (she took longer than she wanted to admit to figure out what that one was for).
She heard more earth shifting behind her and turned to see the hole closing. “Shit!” She pushed towards the opening, but it was no good. They were trapped. Was this it? Was Stinky going to shank her now? Maybe dismember her and eat her brains? Okay, probably not, but you could never tell with people. She turned around, as if she’d be able to see him. “What the shit? I thought you said he was your friend?!”
Emrys, for his part, was back to spirit mumbling. Great. Rose wondered how long it was going to take her to blast their way out of here. Which is when the light came back. A small softly glowing fire was coming into being on one side of the small room. The elementalist was lit from below and looked a bit like a wimpy demon. “Last year I was set to transfer my studies to the library. I learned a few of these tricks before I left Penmark in case I had to camp. Turned out I didn’t need it the first time, but it’s quite useful now. The spirit from the ground made us this room, the fire spirit helps us with light and heat, and there is an air spirit to keep the room fresh and take the smoke away.” He looked very pleased with himself. Rightfully so.
Rose looked around. “What, no water spirits to wash us up?”
Emrys frowned, looking down. He murmured, “I’m still working on it.”
Grinning, Rose began the laborious process of getting herself down to bed. She didn’t even eat dinner.
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