Priestess of War (The Bowl of Souls Book 10), page 25
Artemus managed a half smile as he addressed the skeptical look on Justan’s face. “It seems a strange concept, I know. But the strategy can work. Both of the wizards I knew who used this technique were grand champions of the game.”
“Sure!” Justan said drily. “If you only play against yourself, you’re always the grand champion,”
“And most likely crazy,” Willum added with a laugh. “Splitting your mind in two?”
Both bound spirits gave him slightly offended looks. Artemus’ eyes flashed momentarily black.
Willum shrank back from the wizard’s gaze. “Uh, I wasn’t talking about you, Master Artemus. I meant in general. You know . . . a wizard playing both sides?” He swallowed, his voice growing softer. “Because, uh . . . how would you know which one of you . . . was the real . . . loser?”
“Ho-Ho! Good job, Willy,” said Theodore with a roll of his eyes. “If you back out of the conversation slowly enough maybe no one will notice.”
“Sorry,” Willum replied sheepishly. “Still, whatever your techniques for building the game, Theodore, this night you are going to lose. I believe this will set you!”
He threw down his last card which happened to be the high universal card. This meant that Theodore and Artemus didn’t make their bid. Their points had fallen into the negative. Willum and Justan were now just one hand away from victory.
“You know what that means, imp?” Willum said. He looked to Justan. “Theodore and I have a wager going on the outcome of tonight’s game.”
“Oh?” Justan asked. Willum’s wagers with the imp often ended up in Willum having to do some ridiculous stunt for Theodore’s amusement. Last time, he had been forced to drink a whole bottle of banana wine at dinner. The poor warrior had spent the evening vomiting into the canal afterwards. “So what happens when we win?”
Willum folded his arms and leaned back into his chair with a smile. “Theodore has to change the walls of this room from smoke into bouquets of pink flowers for a week.”
“Ooh. Good one,” Justan said approvingly.
“It would actually be a nice change,” Artemus agreed. “I have been wondering, Theodore, why do you keep this place so dreary?”
“I’m bound here with air and fire,” the imp replied. “I find it comforting.”
“But certainly you could make it more cheery,” the ice wizard suggested. “Some flames. A warm breeze?”
“Ho! And the icy mazes of your world are better?” Theodore pulled in the cards with a grumble and began to shuffle the deck. His thin lips twisted in irritation, but something occurred to him and his lips slowly unfurled into a grin. “Ho! I have a question for you, Sir Edge. You and your betrothed have been together for some time. Yes?”
Justan gave him a cautious frown, not liking where this was headed. “We have been betrothed for a year. But we knew each other some time before that.”
“Good-good. Because I was wondering if you could give poor Willy some advice,” the imp replied.
“Theodore,” Willum warned.
The imp sent an amused sneer Willum’s way. “You see, Willy and Mage Vannya have been spending more and more time together lately and there is quite a bit of friction between the two of them. Sometimes when he’s helping her with her experiments, she brushes up against him and there are so many sparks, I fear a fire may start.”
“I mean it,” Willum warned.
“In Willum’s pants,” Theodore continued.
“I don’t need to hear this,” Justan said with a sigh. “And Willum I hope the best for the two of you. I think it would be great if things worked out.”
“Ho-ho! I don’t think that’s in doubt,” Theodore replied. “The truth is, I’m worried about poor Willy’s virtue.”
“Stop,” Willum said. “It’s not funny.”
“I was wondering, Sir Edge, what’s your secret? I’ve seen the way you and Jhonate bin Leeths are around each other. How have you kept your woman’s libido at bay so long? Can you give Willy some tips?”
Justan’s eyes widened.
Artemus stood. “That will be enough, imp. I believe you owe both of these young men an apology!”
“Apologize? Ho-ho! These are things Willy should know. The way that mage keeps throwing herself at him, things could happen any day now.” The imp placed both hands on his chest. “And when that happens, guess who’s going to have to be around to witness it.”
“Not if I throw you in a creek first,” Willum replied through gritted teeth.
Justan pushed up out of his chair. “Well, that will be enough for us tonight. Artemus?”
The ice wizard gestured and a frost-covered doorway rose from the smoky floor. The door opened and an icy breeze blew into the room. Beyond it a corridor of cool cloud stretched into the distance.
“Ho-ho! Must you go so soon? I was asking for Willy’s sake,” the imp claimed. “Maybe you could ask Miss Jhonate what works and let him know?
“You know why he’s doing this, don’t you?” Willum asked.
“Oh, I know exactly why,” Justan replied. “And I am sorry, Willum, but I am leaving anyway, because I refuse to put up with it.”
The imp put on a look of mock sadness and Justan shook his head.
“Think of this, Theodore. You don’t have many friends in this world. Why alienate the ones you do have? If you wish us to return, I will expect a full apology.” He paused in the doorway and looked back. “Also, to be sure that you are sincere, I’ll expect a favor or two.”
When the door had shut behind Justan, the doorway faded from existence. The imp shrugged and leaned back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head and plopping his bare feet up onto the table.
“And that is how you avoid a loss, Willy,” Theodore said cheekily.
Justan left Willum’s tent and stepped into a dark and cloud filled night. A warm wind was blowing, thick with moisture. He sighed. More time had passed than he thought. There had still been some daylight when he had entered the imp’s world with Willum.
Hello! Rain is coming, Gwyrtha said cheerfully, padding up to him and nudging him with her toothy snout.
Justan scratched behind her horse-like ears. “Yes. I can smell it.”
He glanced over at the tent that Jhonate and Vannya were sharing for the journey. It was dark inside and he did not hear voices. Justan frowned. No one was sitting at the fireside either. Evidently, the warriors had also gone to sleep already.
He walked to his own tent, but did not yet feel tired. He knew Jhonate would want to rise early so that they would reach Stolz’ home before noon the following day, but the idea of sleep did not tempt him. Besides, Fist hadn’t contacted him yet and Justan wanted to know if there had been an update as to Lyramoor’s capture.
If you are not yet ready to sleep, why did you not stay with Willum? Deathclaw asked. The Raptoid was currently on watch, perched high in a magnolia tree. Your ‘game’ with his imp did not go well?
It went about as well as I hoped, Justan replied. Actually, I would say that Theodore was a gentleman for far longer than I expected.
If that is what you expected, why go? Artemus asked with curiosity.
Justan shrugged. Everyone deserves a chance. Besides, Willum is a friend and his relationship with that imp seems to be one that will be around awhile.
If that is the case, why did you leave? Deathclaw said. Were the things the imp said to you so upsetting?
Justan smirked. So the raptoid had already known the answer to his question before he asked it. Deathclaw was always listening more closely than he let on.
I am not so thin skinned as that. Though he had to admit to himself that the imp’s unexpected personal attack had pushed his buttons a bit. The thing is, Theodore needs to learn. He and Willum do not have the advantages that we do through the bond. It’s not so easy for Willum to teach him humanity. Therefore, the imp will need to learn from trial and error. If he was to get away with all his antics he would see no need to change.
You never change, Justan. You always try to make others become more human, the raptoid observed.
I’ve never tried to make anyone human. Humanity is full of flaws. It’s about helping people become better, Justan said.
And what makes you so certain that the way you would have people do things is better? Deathclaw pressed.
Justan thought about that question for a moment. Was he being arrogant in assuming that his way of thinking was better than anyone else’s? I just go by what I feel is right. Do you think that the way I go about it is wrong?
Deathclaw was silent as he considered his response. I do not know. But I do think it is what makes you an effective pack leader.
Justan blinked. Did you just give me a compliment? Why, thank you, Deathclaw. That means a lot coming from you.
Justan had just about decided it was best to go to bed anyway when the rain began to fall. He heard it before it came, a dull roar coming in from the east, but he didn’t have time to enter his tent. As seemed standard in Malaroo when the rain fell, it fell hard. He was soaked through almost instantly. Justan’s shoulders slumped.
I have an idea of something you might do, Artemus offered.
Will it somehow make me dry so I don’t soak my bedroll trying to get inside my tent? he moped.
Perhaps not, my boy, Artemus replied. But you may find it useful. I have been giving some thought to your current breakthroughs with your understanding of how your swords’ magic works.
Okay, Justan said, wondering where the wizard was going with this.
Well, as we were in the imp’s realm I was pondering the different ways in which he and I have used our abilities to affect the nature of the worlds we inhabit, Artemus said, and Justan was pleased to hear him sounding suddenly like a Mage School teacher at a lectern rather than a despondent old man. It occurred to me that as much as you have been focusing on the powers of your left sword, you have spent little time thinking on the ways you could use your right sword.
I suppose that’s because it has always seemed pretty simple. Rage stores the feelings that Peace absorbs and stores them as energy. Justan paused to wipe the water out of his eyes. The rain really was coming down hard. Is this idea of yours something I can do inside the tent?
No. Actually, I think this deluge may prove most beneficial to this experiment, the wizard said to Justan’s disappointment. You see, what Rage is doing with those emotions is converting them to pure energy much like the energy you withdraw from Gwyrtha.
Justan suddenly became excited by the concept. Do you mean to say that I could pull energy from the sword in the same way I pull it from her?
I-I did not, but . . . well, actually perhaps you could at that. I did not think of that application. Good for you, my boy, Artemus said appreciatively. No, the thing that occurred to me was that while Peace is a sword whose use involves spirit magic, Rage’s ability is elemental based. The explosion that is released when the sword expends the energy it has stored is a pure burst of air magic.
Huh, said Justan. I didn’t think about it that way.
Nor had I until earlier while in the imp’s domain. Several things pricked my mind. One of them was when I noticed that the makeup of his world was much more stable than the world I inhabit within your scar.
It is? Justan asked.
Yes. You see, it takes a constant stream of power, almost the entirety of both of our magical talents, to create the domain in which I reside as well as to keep the elemental from escaping. The magic you use for defensive purposes or to heal your bonded comes from Gwyrtha’s energy.
You’re kidding, Justan said. How have I not noticed that?
I didn’t notice, Gwyrtha offered.
Like your sword Rage, your body automatically converts her energy into elemental magic that you can use. Unfortunately when we bonded, you didn’t have Gwyrtha. So when I set up my spell, the only thing I allowed it to let through was defensive magic. If not for the interference of my rather hastily concocted spell, her energy would give you all the magic you need to use your spells offensively.
Is there a way to reverse that? Justan wondered. Redo the spell in a more efficient manner?
I’m afraid not, Artemus said with a mental wince. As far as I can tell, that is. It would require undoing the spell altogether and quite frankly since I have been removed from the place of my demise, I do not know that I would remain tethered to this world long enough to cast a more efficient version. I am still giving it some thought, though. The more time I am spending awake while the elemental slumbers, the more my faculties seem to be returning.
I see, Justan said.
However, what I have discovered may very well be the next best thing, the ice wizard said with an attempt at enthusiasm. You see, I considered the similarities between the way you convert Gwyrtha’s energies and the way Rage converts emotion and an idea occurred to me. What if you could enter your bond with Rage and change the elemental aspect of the energy it converts?
Justan squinted. You mean I could make it do something different than an explosion of air?
Exactly, my boy! The explosion of air is quite effective in most cases, but have there not been times where your intention might not be to simply cause the largest amount of damage possible? With enough practice, you could use the sword to emit a halo of frost or perhaps simply light a fire. These are things that are not currently possible to you without offensive magic.
Really? Justan said, a smile spreading on his face as he warmed up to the idea. But wouldn’t the spell that keeps you in my scar hamper that use of magic as well?
That is one beautiful thing about it! Since you are expending the sword’s charged energy instead of bringing it into your body first, it works around my spell.
“And we already know it will work because it makes explosions now!” Justan said aloud, then shut his mouth, not wanting to wake the others.
Ah, wizard, said Deathclaw to Artemus. Finally I see a sound contribution you make to the pack. I can understand why Justan does not simply wish to do away with you.
Uh, thank you, Deathclaw, Artemus said. I think.
No longer at all worried about the rain, Justan stepped a short distance away from the camp, his mind full of possible applications for this new way of using Rage’s power. He drew his swords and, though he now had the ability to halt his left sword’s magic, he let Peace drain all his emotions and discomfort away. His mind cleared, allowing him to focus on the task at hand. He held Rage out in front of him.
Alright, so how should I go about this? Justan wondered.
It should work much like the way I used to use my bond with my dagger. You just won’t be bringing your own magic through. Artemus had shown Justan many such memories while helping him manipulate his bond with Peace. Reach through your bond with the sword and focus on the magic it has stored up.
Justan did as he suggested, closing his eyes and sending a tendril of thought through the bond. Then, similarly to the way he looked into the bodies of his bonded, he looked into the makeup of the sword.
He could see it now, a swollen mass of pure energy contained within the sword as if it were a full bladder. He could feel that Rage yearned to release it. Justan followed the flow of magic through to the trigger point, to the place where Rage was able to convert that energy into an explosion of air and release it through the blade.
He focused in closer and, to his surprise, there was a sort of mechanism in place. The best way he could visualize it was like a series of four crystals whose colors represented the different elements. Right now, the air crystal was the only one in use.
He opened his eyes back up to the deluge of rain. He had a better understanding of the sword’s process now. “Okay, what should I try first?”
Because of the rain, I felt a halo of ice would be a good simple spell to use, Artemus suggested. This should give us a visual idea of how well it works.
That’s not such a simple spell, Justan replied. Using a pure mix of two complimentary elements like air and water was actually quite difficult. It also didn’t help that Justan had never been able to practice offensive spells before.
Difficult for most wizards, but not for us, Artemus assured him. Remember, you were born with this mix of power. The important thing is that it is a simple equation for the sword to implement. Equal amounts of air and water released at the same time. Try to focus the power through the tip of the blade if you can.
Justan took a deep breath and focused. As he had learned to do with Peace, he sent a mental image of what he wanted Rage to do. He would have it hold back a bit, just using a third of the power it had stored. The sword’s answer was eager acceptance.
You realize I’m not going to be able to see anything in this darkness, Justan said.
You’ll be able to see what you need to see, Artemus assured him. You’ll primarily be using your mage sight.
Justan nodded. Focusing further, he slowed the world around him until he could feel each individual raindrop hit his skin and hear each pat. To his mage sight, the world had a very slight blue tone.
“Here we go,” he said and triggered the release.
The resulting spell was larger than he expected. A wave of frost shot from the tip of the sword in a conical shape, instantly freezing every drop of ice in its wake. It continued for thirty yards in front of him before fizzling out.
For one brief moment it was as if he saw through a window into the middle of a raging blizzard. Then the moment ended and the ice fell to the ground, quickly melting in the warm falling rain.
“It worked!” Justan said aloud and would have laughed if not for Peace’s power. He shut off the emotional drain of the sword so he could enjoy his success.
Impressive, Deathclaw sent from a spot in the treetops not far from him.
It got cold real quick, Gwyrtha agreed. But now it’s not.
Wonderful, my boy! Artemus said.
What should we try next? Justan wondered.
Perhaps more of the same, the ice wizard suggested. Spells are best learned by repetition.
Justan was eager to try everything he could think of, but the wizard had a point. In many ways, working magic was like training sword forms. It was best to build upon experience.
