~ Chapter 4 ~

When Eliza woke to her second day in the Mancer Citadel Missus Ash was already in her room drawing the curtains.

“Good morning, chicken,” she chimed. “I’ve got a hot breakfast ready for you in the kitchen.”

Eliza sat up. She could feel the warm spot next to her where the cat must have been just moments before and looked around the room for it. Missus Ash chuckled.

“Looking for Smoky? He ran out just as I came in.”

“Is he your cat?”

“He is, aye,” said Missus Ash. “You dinnay mind him, do ye?”

Eliza shook her head. “I like cats.”

“Lah, that’s fine then. He took to you quick enough, to spend the night in your bed. I’ve never seen the like with that cat.”

“My father’s Sorma,” said Eliza. “Animals always like me.”

“That explains it!” said Missus Ash with a smile. “Lah, do you wear that thing to bed, too?”

Eliza remembered the heavy pendant around her neck. “They said to nary take it off,” she said.

“Very wise, no doubt,” agreed Missus Ash. “Come on. Let’s get some breakfast in ye.”

In the kitchen, Eliza devoured a hot bowl of porridge with brown sugar and golden syrup and then asked Missus Ash for the second time, “How did you end up working here?”

“That’s a story too long for this morning,” said Missus Ash with an odd smile. Eliza was disappointed but couldn’t think of any way to press her for more without being rude.

“So Charlie has been coming here during the holidays since he was a little boy?” she asked.

“Aye, that’s right, chicken.”

“Where is he now?”

“Up to no good, I spec. But you’ll nay be joining him in that this morning, Miss Eliza Tok. You are to report to the Spellmaster in the Library.”

“What for?” asked Eliza, alarmed.

Missus Ash gave her a twinkling little smile. “Your lessons, o’ course.”

~

Missus Ash took Eliza to the top floor of the north wing. They had to take a great many breaks on the way up and Missus Ash was panting for breath by the end.

“No reason they cannay install an elevator,” she muttered, walking Eliza down the length of an empty hallway. “Now, where is it, where is it?” She paused and knocked on the wall. A door appeared a bit further down and opened. A Mancer with a silvery hue to his skin stepped out and greeted them. His eyes had a softer light than the other Mancers she had met, like the sun just beginning to set, and so it was easier to look at his face. His voice, however, had the same powerful resonance as Supreme Mancer Kyreth’s.

“Welcome, Eliza Tok! I am the Spellmaster, Foss.”

He bowed respectfully to her. She had no idea how to respond, if she was supposed to bow in return, or maybe curtsy. Paralyzed by her uncertainty, she just stood and gaped at him awkwardly.

“Lah, I’ll leave ye to it,” said Missus Ash abruptly, and she turned and walked away. Eliza looked after her desperately.

“This way, Eliza Tok, this way.”

Foss gestured her through the door. Eliza stopped just inside the doorway and stared up, lips parting in amazement. The whole Citadel was on a larger-than-human scale, but the Library went beyond that. This was like entering a vast cavern, marble bookcases towering up, cliff-like, towards the ceiling. Bamboo ladders tall as trees, taller, stood against the bookcases, and woven bridges were slung between them. She tried to imagine Mancers climbing up to those dizzying heights to fetch their books. Some light filtered in through long windows far at the back of the hall, but mostly the library was lit by amber orbs hanging haphazardly from the shelves. Staring straight up, she thought she saw little dark shapes flitting about near the ceiling – bats, she guessed.

“This is the Old Library, as we call it,” Foss told her conversationally, guiding her in among the soaring bookshelves. “The New Library consists of the Commentaries and extends seven stories below us, though the rooms are rather smaller than this one of course. But these books,” he swept his hand in an arc, “are the Early Texts. Look.”

He said something that Eliza couldn’t understand, and as he spoke the light slipped out of one of the amber orbs, leaving it dull, and went twirling upwards. Foss climbed after it, up one of the ladders, and then with startling agility he stepped off the ladder onto the edge of one of the shelves, holding on to a shelf above with one hand, and edged along it as if along a rock face to where the amber light danced. He pulled a book off the shelf there, tucked it under his free arm, and made his way swiftly back to the ladder and down. The amber light hung in the air a moment then went diving back to the orb and crawled back in, illuminating it once more. Foss returned to Eliza and opened the book to show her. The paper was brown with age, and neat ink characters ran across the pages like little insects. The Language of First Days, as Charlie had called it.

“It looks old,” said Eliza shyly. She reached to touch it but Foss cried, “Ah ah ah!” and closed the book. Back up the ladder he went to return it. There was something so odd about this tall and terrible being climbing around like a monkey that Eliza wanted to laugh and had to bite her lip.

“That was Volume Ten of the Book of the Ancients, Eliza Tok!” he said, back at her side. “Written by the Great Mancer Simathien! You have studied him, of course.”

Eliza nodded vaguely. She had no idea what he was talking about.

“You will have your lessons here, Eliza, among the oldest and finest books in the worlds. I hope the presence of these great texts will serve as an inspiration for you.”

Foss led her to a table between two precipitous bookcases, as if deep in a ravine. Eliza thought the setting was more likely to distract than inspire – she couldn’t help fearing that an avalanche of books might come pouring down upon them at any moment. Foss gestured for Eliza to sit down. Eliza noticed, now that he was facing her again, that on his robe he had the black crab identifying the manipulators of water.

“It is wonderful to have you here at last,” he enthused warmly, sitting down across from her. “We have been looking for you for quite some time! It was not easy to unravel the spell your mother cast to hide you. It was really very cleverly done, a kind of adapted complex barrier as far as we can tell. Do you know, I’ve taught eight generations of Sorceresses and never had such a quick student as your mother. She took to Magic like it was natural as breathing to her. Well, well, well. You don’t look much like her, do you?” He paused, as if waiting for her to respond in some way, but Eliza didn’t know what to say and so she said nothing. He plunged on cheerfully: “Tell me, Eliza Tok, what do you know about Magic?”

“Nothing,” replied Eliza. There was something gentle about this Mancer, and she felt her fear of him falling away. So she explained: “I’m nay a Sorceress like my ma was. I cannay do anything.”

“We shall see,” said Foss with a merry wink, as if she might be joking. “Now, I assume you have gone to school?”

“Yes,” said Eliza.

“And so you have learned about the twelve branches of Magic.”

“No!” Eliza gave a little snort of laughter that she instantly regretted, for Foss looked deeply offended. “They dinnay teach that kind of thing at school,” she explained.

“Why in the worlds not?” he demanded.

“Lah...humans cannay do Magic,” she said.

“Irrelevant!” cried Foss. “Do they neglect to teach you about the photosynthesis of plants because humans themselves cannot photosynthesize? I am shocked. I will speak to the Emissariae. This should be raised with the Ministers of Education. You do study Nature, I presume?”

“Natural Science,” said Eliza.

“Precisely! How can you come to a full understanding of Nature without also understanding Magic? Or, indeed, vice versa?”

“But they’re opposite, nay?” said Eliza.

Foss banged the table with his fist, making her jump.

“They are not opposites, Eliza Tok, they are not. Each is intrinsic to the other; each contains the other and cannot function without it! Like all dyads, they exist in balance.” He sighed heavily. “We will really have to begin from the beginning. Do not be discouraged, Eliza Tok, do not be discouraged. It is true that you are twelve years old and may be too old to learn, even if you have the innate abilities we hope. But do not be discouraged. We are beginning from the beginning.” He folded his hands and looked up. At first he spoke very slowly and patiently, but he quickly became so excited by his topic that he sped up, and then his hands unlocked involuntarily and he began to gesture wildly as he talked. His eyes grew brighter and brighter.

“Magic is a creative force, Eliza, and not well understood even by we who have studied it for millennia. One might say it is the essence of the Ancients, who Made Tian Di, the One World. The Magic of Making is in everything and different beings are connected to it in different ways. Mancers manipulate elements to extract their Magical properties. We turn nature into Magic, you might say. A Sorceress like yourself, Eliza, is deeply and directly connected to the Magic of Making and can use it to marvelous effect. Do you know the difference between Great Magic and Lesser Magic?”

“No,” said Eliza, squinting at the radiance of his eyes. He noticed this and their light suddenly softened again.

“Do not be discouraged! Do not be discouraged! I will tell you the difference, Eliza Tok.” Foss beamed at her. He was having a wonderful time. “For the purpose of understanding it, we have divided Magic into twelve main branches. There are some who disagree with such categorization, but it is easier for the mind to grasp when the topic is organized thus. The six branches of Great Magic are as follows: Illusion and Curses, both of which are primarily Faery Magic, Barriers, in which the Mancers are adept above all other beings, Mind-altering spells, also known as Confusions, Conjuring, and Summoning. Lesser Magic consists of Enchantment, Deep Listening, Deep Seeing, Deep Knowing, Moving Objects large and small, and Potions. Old Magic is of course excluded from these general categories, as it is no longer worked by any being alive today. By Old Magic I mean Making and the manipulation of time and space. The last being to manipulate space was Karbek, with his famed spell to separate the One World in the Middle Days, a spell so powerful that we work to complete it even today in the Citadel.” Suddenly he was muttering something so softly and rapidly she couldn’t make it out. Then he stopped and his face cracked into a great smile, his eyes beaming light at her. “What have I done?” he asked.

“What?” said Eliza rather stupidly.

“I have worked Great Magic,” he said, “albeit of a modest kind. It will disintegrate in a moment or two! Quickly! What have I done?”

“I dinnay know,” said Eliza.

“Touch the table,” suggested Foss, disappointed.

Eliza tried to touch it but found her hands stopped a few inches above the table. There was nothing solid meeting her touch, exactly, and yet her hands simply would not go beyond a certain point. It was a very strange sensation.

“A barrier?” hazarded Eliza, impressed.

“Precisely!” He was mightily cheered by her answer. “It is a simple barrier, of course. No more than a sort of invisible wall. Barriers can take many forms, including banishment, which will be your specialty, and complex barriers... Well, we’ll leave that be... It is a particular passion of mine. Let us try something else.”

He brushed his hand across the table, muttering again, and white flowers sprang up. Eliza cried out in wonder and disbelief but when she touched them they fell to nothing.

“Illusion,” she said immediately. She was beginning to enjoy this lesson.

“Quite so,” said Foss. “Simple Illusion is but a tricking of the senses. Complex Illusion masters the senses, creating another reality. But today we will focus on a more straightforward form of Lesser Magic. Pay attention, Eliza Tok.” A book floated off a nearby shelf and laid itself before Foss on the table. “What did I do?” he asked.

“Um, you made a book fly?” suggested Eliza.

“Yes! Ha ha ha! Made a book fly!” cried Foss, as if this were terribly witty. “You say you have never studied Magic before, not even in school, but presumably you have found yourself able to do certain things that surprised you, perhaps? Like making books fly?”

“No!” said Eliza. “Really, I keep telling everyone, I cannay do anything like that.”

“Ah! Perhaps you have never tried. Well, we will begin our lesson today with a few simple exercises just to see what you can do. Moving objects is a good beginning point. It entails exerting your will over something that has no will of its own. We will try something small and thus psychologically easy. A pencil!” Foss placed a pencil on the table in front of Eliza. The barrier had already dissolved. “Eliza Tok, can you make this pencil float?”

Eliza stared at him in disbelief. “No!” she said again. “Really....”

“Try,” said Foss firmly.

Eliza stared at the pencil and tried to imagine it moving. Of course, the pencil didn’t move.

“How am I supposed to move a pencil with my brain?” she asked plaintively, wishing he would go back to showing her interesting examples of Magic.

“You move your fingers with your brain,” said Foss. “Do you not?”

“That’s different!” said Eliza.

“How so?” asked Foss.

“Lah, they’re part of my body. They have muscles, aye.”

“True, true,” said Foss. “How right you are. Your fingers are a part of your body. Very good. You see, you really are quite quick, like your mother. Except that she was able to levitate very large objects in infancy. It was rather a problem, in point of fact, and one had to watch one’s head until she got a little older and more disciplined. But never mind. This is a matter of connectedness, Eliza. As a Sorceress, you are connected to all the elements around you. Your will extends beyond your body. The pencil has no will of its own and so you can extend your will to it with no difficulty at all, meeting no resistance. Do you see?”

“I spec so,” she lied.

“Move your finger.”

Eliza tapped her finger on the table.

“Good. Very good indeed. Keep doing that, and concentrate on how you are doing it. You do it without thinking but I want you to be aware of what is happening in your mind.”

Eliza concentrated. It felt rather odd when she focused on it so intently.

“Now extend your will to the pencil,” said Foss.

Eliza stared at the pencil. She tried to think of it as one of her fingers. For a moment she almost wondered if she could do Magic and had just never realized it, but the pencil didn’t move and she laughed weakly. It was all too ridiculous.

“I dinnay think this is going to work,” she said.

Foss sighed and looked depressed. “I shan’t give up on you so easily, Eliza Tok,” he said. “Do not be discouraged. Are you really...concentrating?”

He was so amiable, so kind, so eager to please, that Eliza felt quite at ease with him. And so she said honestly, “It’s hard to concentrate. Everything’s changed all at once, aye, and there’s a lot I dinnay understand.”

“Of course,” said Foss sympathetically. “It must be very strange to be told you are the Shang Sorceress at the age of twelve. I can only imagine.”

Emboldened by this kind reply, Eliza said, “Can I ask you a question? Something not exactly related to this...lesson?”

“Ah!” said Foss. “Please.”

“How did my mother die?”

At this Foss looked terribly sad and the light faded from his eyes for a moment.

“Has no one told you?” he asked gently.

“I thought...” Eliza’s voice trembled slightly. She stopped, cleared her throat and began again. “My da told me that she died of pneumonia.”

Foss considered this for some time. At last he said, “Because the Sorceress...the other one, I mean...had achieved immortality through devious means, we could not kill our enemy. Our only choice was to imprison her. The Mancer barriers are the strongest of any in the worlds. What we bind does not break free. But it takes time, Eliza Tok! I designed the barriers that have held her captive for ten years now, but we needed one hundred days to work the Magic and we needed her to remain in one place for those hundred days. She held the North already, at that time. Rea, your mother, lured her far out into the Arctic Islands and there she drew out the battle for one hundred days and nights. She held out long enough for us to work our Magic, but in doing so she gave her life. The cruel Sorceress defeated her and killed her, but it was too late and our enemy could not leave her prison. For that heroic act your mother will always be remembered.”

Eliza felt a muddled rush of pride and sorrow. “Is that why the Sorceress is looking for me?” she asked. “For...revenge or something?”

“Perhaps,” said Foss, frowning. “Try the pencil once more, Eliza.”

~

After lunch, Missus Ash brought Eliza again to Kyreth’s study.

“How do you know where the doors are?” asked Eliza.

“You get a sense of it somehow,” said Missus Ash. “Something powerful right there giving you an idea where to knock, aye.”

“I cannay feel it!” said Eliza, surprised. “How can you? I thought you were a regular human!”

“Regular humans can feel a thing even if they’ve nay any gift for it themselves,” said Missus Ash a bit stiffly, stopping and rapping on the wall. “Lah, enough of your questions! Non-stop, it is!”

The door emerged from the wall and Missus Ash opened it for Eliza. The Supreme Mancer was waiting inside.

“How was your lesson with the Spellmaster this morning?” asked Kyreth.

“It was okay,” said Eliza shyly, sitting down in the big chair opposite him. She knew he wanted her to say more, so she added, “He explained about Magic. The twelve branches and that. And he wanted me to make a pencil float.”

“And?”

“I couldnay do it.”

Part of her was disappointed by her failure. She had almost hoped that perhaps she would discover all kinds of marvelous powers she never knew she had. But as it was now obvious that she really couldn’t do Magic, she assumed they would realize their mistake and let her go back to Holburg. School was ending in two weeks, and there was nothing better than summer vacation in Holburg.

“Do you know what a Guide is, Eliza?” Kyreth asked.

“Someone who shows you places,” answered Eliza promptly.

Kyreth smiled. “That is not what I mean. Have you ever had a pet?”

“When we lived in the mountains we adopted a blind wolf. He lived with us until he died. I named him Hoder, aye, after a wizard in a story my da used to tell me. And I had a scorpion in a box in Quan.”

“Do you dream of a particular animal frequently?”

“No-o. I dinnay think so.”

Kyreth frowned. “There are many kinds of beings in the worlds, Eliza,” he said. “And there are many kinds of forces. And there are things, Guides and Guardians among them, that are somewhere between the state of a being and the state of a force. Much has been written on this topic and the difficulties of knowing or defining the nature of Guide or Guardian. If you find yourself approached by an animal for which you feel a kind of affinity, in reality or in your dreams, you must open yourself to whatever it may have to show you.”

Eliza nodded, confused. Kyreth looked satisfied and changed the subject.

“You will continue to study the practice of Magic with the Spellmaster in the mornings. After your midday meal, we will spend some time discussing the history and philosophy behind Magic in general and your own calling in particular. Can you read the Language of First Days, Eliza?”

“No.” Eliza thought again of the writing on the portrait frames, those strange, complex characters Charlie had translated for her: Killed in battle.

“You will study it with the Spellmaster. It is essential that the Shang Sorceress not only fulfill her innate potential as regards the use of Magic, but also that she be knowledgeable and wise. Indeed, the Mancers have always held that knowledge is greater than mere power. Do you agree?”

“I dinnay know,” said Eliza, adding a little irritably, “I’m only twelve.”

“Yes,” Kyreth smiled. “But at your age, your mother’s knowledge and power had begun to astound even we her teachers. She knew by heart the Histories as written by the Mancers of each Era and she was immersed in the Deep Secrets. We spent hours in debate, and when she was not training, she was reading. Had she lived, she might have been one of the few Sorceresses to write a Commentary herself.” He looked wistful. “You look so little like her.”

“I know,” said Eliza. “I look like my da.”

“I want to tell you a story, Eliza.” Kyreth took a large book down from the shelf next to him. “This is Volume 23 of the Book of Origins. The book tells of the beginnings of things and how different beings came to be. I will read to you the Origin of the Sorceress. This is a myth and should not be taken as fact, but it is nonetheless one kind of truth. Close your eyes while I read to you, Eliza.”

Eliza closed her eyes obediently, although it felt a little strange. Kyreth began to read. It was not in any language she understood. It was a rich and dangerous language. The sound of it rolling out of him was dark and full of violence. She felt a strange floating sensation and it was as if his words were pouring into her. There was only his voice, only the strange words, and then the words and the voice became something else, a vast darkness, an airless expanse, eternity, infinite. Rivers of stars flowed through the endlessness. She saw great beings only half-formed around all-seeing eyes, and how the galaxies swirled about them in constant motion. She saw how they shaped the One World with their breath, and how they stepped away into the sky, towards the stars, leaving behind them life, seething and struggling, slaughter and dominion. Only one of these beings looked back at their creation and was moved to pity, letting fall a tear for the short-lived creatures of this tiny world. Eliza was not Eliza anymore. She was that one bright tear, which fell like an arrow shot to earth, and where it fell she split in two.

She wondered at her limbs, her agile hands. She touched her hair, her face. Something beat at her centre behind a cage of bone, keeping time, and time did not pause but roared on and on and on. She was hungry. She was lonely. She was cold. Next to her on the cold hard earth another girl stared about her. She knew that a piece of that girl’s life was inside her, gasping little knife-like breaths, and so she crawled towards her, longing, return to me. With a flash of long bright limbs the girl was gone, away from her. Lost, lost. Space and time held her fast, inescapable. In the darkness another figure came and stood over her, towering with eyes like stars and skin like dying fire, reaching out to her, his hands closing around her wrists like manacles.

It was Kyreth.

But he wasn’t holding her wrists. They were in his study. She was Eliza. She shivered and hugged herself, grateful to still be here in one piece.

He leaned towards her and she looked down at the marble desk, half-blinded by his dazzling gaze.

“What did you see?” he asked her, almost hungrily, she thought.

And she was afraid of him, so she said, “Nothing.”

~

Kyreth sat alone in his study, the book still open on the desk before him, thinking. She had seemed to go into the trance, but perhaps not. Perhaps she had seen something but not understood it. He was troubled that she was unable to perform even the most elementary spells. He had expected that her father’s blood might dilute her power, and of course she was much too old to be beginning, but he had assumed she would have some power, enough at least that the line might eventually grow strong again. He cursed Rea under his breath for her headstrong foolishness. Had it meant nothing to her to destroy the line from which she came?

He turned to the blank Scrolls on the wall behind him and said in the Language of First Days, “Was the spell worked here to rob her of her power?”

Characters wrote themselves swiftly down one of the Scrolls: All she was born with she possesses still.

“Was she born with power?” Kyreth asked dryly.

The Scroll flickered and changed. She is the Shang Sorceress, Last in the Line.

Last. Kyreth was not frequently afraid but a cold fear now uncoiled in his chest.

“She is the last?” he repeated slowly.

Three Scrolls showed the same thing: She is the last.

What could that mean but her death too soon? But the future was yet unmade and prophecies were uncertain at best. He would accept this as a warning.

“Can she be taught?” he asked.

She can learn, was the reply.

“Is she in danger?”

Danger is her destiny, said one Scroll. She will know it as a sister, said another.

“Our enemy, the intruder, does it still walk among us?”

All the Scrolls together wrote, It walks, it talks, seen but unknown.

Kyreth sat back in his chair. As long as she wore the barrier star the girl was safe, but he was uneasy. Somehow that fiend in the Arctic had worked Magic here, in his own Citadel, and he did not know what. Even imprisoned by the powerful barriers of the Mancers she was strong and she was dangerous. He knew she would not rest until she had taken vengeance on them all.

~

As soon as Kyreth dismissed her, Eliza ran out into the grounds. She found Charlie picking pears in the orchard. Approaching him, she felt suddenly shy. What if he went back to school and complained to all his friends about how this dull girl had followed him around during the summer? But when he saw her he broke into a big grin and she relaxed, smiling back. Who else was there for him to hang around with, anyway, she thought. He tossed her a pear and she caught it and took a bite. It was perfectly ripe and sweet.

“Where’ve you been all day?” asked Charlie.

“Having lessons. Magic lessons.” She felt foolish saying it. Charlie raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Lah, what do you think all that mess we heard yesterday meant?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

“Who knows!” said Charlie, aiming carefully and then pelting the core of his pear up among the tree branches. Three large scarlet birds took off from the tree, cawing in outraged voices.

“Dinnay do that!” cried Eliza. Charlie looked at her, perplexed. “You should nay throw things at birds,” she finished feebly.

Charlie seemed to take this in. “What do you care?” he said finally, not in a nasty way, but as if he was genuinely curious.

“It just...it scares ‘em,” said Eliza.

“Oh.” Charlie frowned but didn’t argue. Then he gestured at her pendant. “Lah, you have to wear that everyplace? For protection or something?”

Eliza nodded. “Do you think...the Xia Sorceress must be after me, nay? Though they nary call her that here...I dinnay know what I’m supposed to call her.”

Charlie laughed. “It makes her sound like an equal to the Shang Sorceress, nay? They dinnay like to think there’s any connection, I spec.”

Eliza remembered the other girl she’d seen, or rather felt, when Kyreth was reading to her, that sense that a part of her was running away. “Is there a connection?” she asked.

Charlie shrugged again. “I dinnay know – there are nay any other Sorceresses, are there?”

“Are there nay? I dinnay know anything about it. I’d only ever heard of the Xia Sorceress. I’d nary heard of any Shang Sorceress before this.”

“Mancers like their secrets, my ma says,” said Charlie, a little impatiently. “I spec you and your kind are one of those secrets. Lah, d’ye want to have a contest?”

Eliza sighed and dropped the subject.

“What kind of a contest?”

“A tree-climbing contest, aye. Nay with these trees – with the big ones by the lake. See who can get to the top faster. But we have to pick trees of more or less equal difficulty.”

Eliza accepted instantly, knowing she would win. She might not be able to do Magic but if there was one thing she was really good at it was climbing trees.

~

Eliza’s lesson with Foss the following morning was farcical. She could not move objects, large or small, with Magic. She could not tell which objects were enchanted and which were not. She could not even smell the difference between powdered dragon’s blood and ground chili pepper. Though Foss begged her not to be discouraged, he was becoming increasingly and obviously so. Eliza felt quite sorry for him and tried her best to follow his instructions, but to no avail. Her mother had sat in this very chair, perhaps, floating pencils with ease, she thought to herself. Kyreth and Foss had known her better than Eliza ever would. Eliza was grateful, at least, to know the truth and to have this glimpse into her mother’s life. But the Mancers had to realize she was not a Sorceress, and she resolved to tell Kyreth again that afternoon that she wanted to go home. This time she would be firm about it.

But when Missus Ash took her to Kyreth’s study after lunch, she forgot the little speech she had prepared. She would not need it after all, it seemed. Rising from the chair by the desk and turning to face her with a wobbly smile was her father.