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Rew Majora studied Rich throughout breakfast. He seemed pensive, managing an occasional smile while his friends talked and laughed. His appetite was scarcely there.
“The day ripens,” Rew said, setting down her spiced tea. “Soon, you three will depart on a noble undertaking. Druze and I have done our best to prepare you for the road ahead. Are you ready to begin?”
Her words killed the mirth that was vibrant between the girl and aian a moment ago. The three friends nodded their heads slowly.
“Excellent.” She pointed two fingers at Jason and Melvin. “Druze will outfit you two for the journey.” Then she looked at Rich.
“I need to see you in the library.”
The friends looked at each other and Rew could almost see the conversation behind their eyes.
What’d you do? Jason and Melvin’s eyes asked.
I don’t know; I’m just as dumbstruck as you are, Rich’s eyes answered.
The youthful honesty of it made her smile.
“We’re not going to go over more spells, are we?” Rich asked when they were in the library. The sunlight streaming through the open windows washed out the gray of his robes.
“Only if you feel the need to,” Rew said. “But that’s not why I asked you here.” She stepped toward him. “I want to know what’s wrong.”
Rich shrugged. “I don’t know. Nothing’s wrong.”
“You would rather keep it to yourself?” she asked. Her fingers found his chin and lifted it so his eyes met her gaze. “Do you think I would not understand?”
“I...,” he began then fell silent. “Why do you trust us with something so important?” he asked.
“You, your friends, you all have good hearts. And the power you wield...”
“That’s just it, the power!” Rich said, cutting her off. “I mean, what if I go nuts? How much worse off would your world be with a crazy gray robe running around lighting up the people you care about and burning down the places you live?”
He went over to the window, where he looked out over the Hierophane like there was an answer to his turmoil among the towers and gardens. “I don’t want to destroy a world you’re trying to get me to save.”
She came over to him. “Then don’t,” she said, grabbing his hand. “You alone have ultimate say over what you do and how you wield your magic.”
She led him over to a bookcase. Her finger ran across book spines until she found the Birleshik Arcana. She took it out and handed it to him.
“Keep this with you, in your library pocket. It is the unified theory of magic. I think it will help you understand the nature of your power and help ease your fears about the cost.”
“How did you know I was worried about the cost?” Rich asked taking the book.
“It is a burden you must endure alone, but is also one I share with you,” she said with a smile. “The first time scares us all.”
Rich nodded. Then he looked at her, confusion etched across handsome features and boyish eyes. “What’s a library pocket?”
He was so adorable it was charming. “It’s sewn into mage robes,” she said. “It helps distribute the weight of books, allowing mages to carry a handful without feeling lopsided.”
“Oh, that’s what that’s called,” he said. She watched him fumble a bit with his robes before getting the book into his library pocket. Still, he was more confident of his movements and his spells than many acolytes who had trained and studied a full year. She wished she could have met him under different circumstances; he would have made a wonderful student.
“Now, are you ready for the task ahead?” she asked.
“As ready as I can be, I think.”
“Then, Grand Razzleblad, present to me your spellbook.” She held out her hands.
He produced it after a quick rummage through his library pocket. She flipped through the thick tome until she got near the end where the pages were blank.
She spoke a creation spell, her focus locked on the empty page. Her hand glowed white as she held it over the blank space. Ancient words scrawled themselves onto the page, flowing from the bottom up.
When she was done she presented the open book to Rich. “This is a replica of Mage-Scholar Kaftar Friese’s spellbook, page one hundred seventy-three. The spell you’ll need is the third one.”
“I can read it, but I don’t know what it means,” he said, staring at the stylized calligraphy.
“The language is very ancient. Not even I know what it means. But, as far as we know, only this spell of Kaftar Friese’s design can contain the creature, as evidenced by the last mage who captured it.”
“I thought you captured it last time,” Rich said, his attention half given to reading the new page in his book.
“I’m afraid that was a bit before my time. I just kept it contained through the use of the witchlock which bears my name.”
She gently closed the book he was preoccupied with and studied him. “You can do this, Rich,” she said. “Are you ready?”
Rich nodded.
When the two of them returned to the courtyard, Melvin and Jason were watching Druze demonstrate the finer points of controlling a hava-chaise. Essentially a platform that hovered a foot above the ground, the hava-chaise moved depending on foot placement and the manipulation of two levers that extended from the platform to waist height. Druze stopped the hava-chaise and dismounted when he saw Rew and Rich.
“Jason, Melvin, teach Rich,” he said.
Through excited chatter, Jason and Melvin explained how to control the hava-chaise. They talked in terms she could scarcely decipher like aviation layout, control scheme and played stations. But Rich had no trouble following along, and soon enough all three of them could control their individual hava-chaises fairly well. They laughed as they raced around the courtyard.
A thunderclap from Druze got their attention. They brought their hava-chaises to a halt in front of the mages. As they dismounted, the platforms settled gingerly down onto the ground.
Rew looked at the three of them. Jason and Melvin already wore the packs she and Druze had prepared. It was standard traveler’s gear: bedroll, jerked meat, waterskin, and other odds and ends. She held out the third pack to Rich.
Rew knew Druze had given Jason and Melvin items specifically meant for them as well. She looked at Jason, the one who seemed the most knowledgeable of the world. “Are you able to read the map we gave you?”
“Yep,” he replied, a smile creeping up the corner of his mouth. He pulled the map from his pocket with that disturbing bone hand. “I’ve spent hours staring at maps like this, pre-staging my game time. Yours isn’t the most detailed and stylized, but I can work with it.”
Meanwhile, Rich rummaged through his pack, exploring the contents. Rew turned her attention to Melvin. The girl was looking down at her boots.
“My dear, you should wear the hooded cloak Druze gave you.”
“Why? I thought that was for inclement weather.” She looked up at a clear blue sky.
“I know your attire is derived from the customs of the Khermer, but still, look at you. Your attire is barely there. The cloak protects against bad weather as well as your bad sense of decorum.”
The girl glared at Rew. Rew looked back nonplussed by whatever thoughts the girl entertained. When you’re trying to move efficiently from place to place without harassment, it just made sense to not parade around like you’re the head priestess of your own fertility cult.
Having either swallowed what she was going to say or acquiescing to sound advice, Melvin put on the blue cloak. A red-jeweled clasp at the neck held it in place, allowing the material to cover a body that only exposed itself in brief flashes of movement. Much better now.
Druze spoke before Rew could. “It’s time,” he said as he looked at Rich. “Create a water bowl so Jason can determine your direction.”
Rich took a step back as if Druze was asking the impossible of him. He stood there for a moment without reply or motion, then he took off his pack and started going through it.
“I got an idea,” Rich said, “much faster and easier than making a bowl.” He dug out the waterskin, set the pack down and then he did the most ridiculous thing imaginable. He filled his hands with the water.
He carried his cupped hands over to Jason. “Ok, drop a finger in.”
Druze smacked his cupped hands. Water sprayed into Rich’s face.
“It is just as I thought,” Druze said, his eyes full of anger. “The cost rides this boy.”
“Druze, it will be fine,” Rew said. “Rich will...”
She stopped talking as Druze’s look fell on her. She had not seen that hard glare in a century. There would be no placating or reasoning with him on this. His baleful stare went back to Rich.
“Look at you, a child scared to go out in sunlight because you’ll cast a shadow. How can you cast the containment spell when it is time to?”
Rich looked at him with defiant eyes. “I won’t fail to cast.”
“You fail to cast now!” Druze yelled. He spoke esoteric words in a heated flurry. Then he pushed out with open palms and tornado-strength winds erupted from his hands. The winds knocked Rich back and down, causing him to tumble in a roll across the courtyard.
“Your endeavor is not child’s play,” Druze said to Rich, who was on his stomach spitting out grass. “You leave here to face unknown dangers in unknown places and you hesitate to cast even basic spells.”
Rich looked at Rew.
“Don’t you dare look to her for aid!” Druze altered and bent his sleeve. The black fabric stretched the distance to where Rich lay and whacked him across the face, knocking him on his back.
“She has no say on this,” Druze said as his spells expired, causing the sleeve to shrink to its original form around his arm. “Now cast the spell or we dance.”
Rich licked his lip, tasting the blood on it. He stared at Druze. Rew could see the anger behind his eyes.
He got up on one knee and threw a handful of dirt. “Guuch kir!” he yelled and the dirt hardened and sharpened in midair.
Druze spoke and the blackness of his robe expanded, swallowing most of the projectiles. A few errant pieces whizzed past Jason and Melvin, ricocheting off the marble columns behind them.
“Shouldn’t we stop this?” Melvin asked Rew.
“No.”
Druze advanced on Rich. “Do you think altering dirt is going to save you from marauders or walking corpses? We need a gray robe for this task, not a boy at a costume ball.”
He spoke a succession of spells so quickly he made it look easy. The sky darkened with clouds and a tornado wrapped itself around Rich, hauling him up into the sky. Druze looked up at the swirling winds, controlling them with hands that he spun around in circles.
Somewhere up there in that swirling vortex, Rich was spinning around. He may have shown a lot of promise, but the time Rew had spent with him was nowhere near enough to prepare him for a mage duel. Her eyes frantically searched the twisting winds for a hint of his robes.
Then he appeared. Not only appeared, Rich emerged from the tornado riding a giant icicle. Druze leapt out of the way as the icicle crashed into where he stood a moment ago. On top of the ice, Rich looked at the black robe with fury in his eyes.
Druze killed his wind spell. Then he bowed his head to Rich.
“Mage of gray, do you still hesitate to summon a water bowl?” Druze asked him.
Rich glared at him. He did not respond to Druze, but jumped down from his perch of ice.
“Suchanaa,” he intoned, thrusting the newly created bowl to Jason.
“Badass,” Jason said, looking at Rich as if he was a total stranger.
Rew shared that feeling. Nothing she had shown him could account for that level of spellcraft. There was more built into his gray robes than he could possibly know.
“That was truly remarkable,” she told him.
“Yeah,” he said, “well, you can thank your trigger happy bodyguard for that.”
“What ever makes you think Druze is my bodyguard?”
Confusion replaced the anger etched on Rich’s face. “Well... um...” he began, not knowing what to say to her question.
“Is it that you thought the Hierophant needs protection... or that my body should be guarded?”
Rew watched Rich’s cheeks redden as he stammered through speech. It had been such a long time since she had felt this kind of nervous energy from a man. Everyone saw her as Hierophant Majora, Voice of Seat Esotera, someone to either fear or revere. Rich saw none of that and so much more. Rew couldn’t help herself.
Jason saved Rich from further embarrassment. “Dude, it’s pointing northwest,” he announced, looking at the finger in bowl.
“Then go northwest,” Druze said. He looked at them like a father who knows his children are procrastinating.
Jason reattached his finger and tossed the bowl, which disintegrated into air. Melvin, finally decent in the cloak, threw on her pack. The three of them made their way over to their hava-chaises. Druze presented Rich with a ring.
“Wear this. It will reduce the cost somewhat.”
Rich nodded and took the ring. “Thanks.” He put it on right there.
“And thank you, Majora,” Rich said “for helping me with my casting and everything.”
The way he looked and talked to her made her smile. She approached Rich. “Call me Rew.” Then she leaned and whispered into his ear.
“You really are sweet, Rich. If you ever want to talk and you feel I’m worth the cost, remember this...” she told him, in slow, hushed whispers how to create a scry and how to attune to her. She hoped he would remember and, better yet, use it.
When she stepped back Rich’s friends were giving him eye language again.
What’s going on with you and her? Jason and Melvin’s eyes asked.
Rich’s eyes only flickered briefly to his friends. Then he cleared his throat, started his hava-chaise and turned it northwest.
Rew watched them depart into the unknown. She felt Druze come to stand beside her.
“What was that you gave him?” she asked. Nothing mitigates the cost.
“Insurance,” Druze said. “I do not like this task in their hands, Rew. Our very lives at are stake.”
“I know,” Rew replied. Druze was sounding every bit like the father he was to her. “That’s why I wanted to take care of this myself.”
“Your role is here, daughter, to guide the Hierophane. It is not to meander around the world in search of monsters. And it is not to develop crushes on children.”
Rew looked at him with steel in her eyes. “I am over three hundred and fifty years old, father. What man isn’t a child to that?”
“Do not be fooled by the length of his beard. He is baby fresh.”
“And he has risen to a challenge men twice his age would cower from.”
“Hmmph.” He walked off, his purpose and destination unknown to her. Even now, after centuries, his ways were sometimes utter mysteries.
Rew stayed in the courtyard, watching the three silhouettes grow smaller in the distance.