21 Nevrine

I think I like General Tarallan. He’s not what I expected, after meeting Crossar. For one thing, he’s young to be Commander General of the entire Balaenic Army—I don’t think he’s more than forty. He’s got the fair coloring of a northwesterner, light blond hair and pale eyes that I think are gray rather than blue, and is sort of ruggedly handsome. He’s not noble, but he behaves to King and Chamber as if he’s their equal, and they treat him with respect. I can see why. He’s got the same air of competence about him Cederic has, the charisma of a born leader. I’ve heard he came up through the ranks and has earned the respect not only of King and Chamber, but of all the men under his command. And he’s kept the army strong even though Balaen is at peace, which is pretty remarkable. He’s interesting, and I think we might be able to become friends.

Though I wouldn’t have said that earlier this morning, when we first met. I was escorted back to Janeka Manor, grateful for the first time that the King had pressed these fancy clothes on me, and brought to a different meeting room than the one I’d been in before. This one had a long table, and ornately carved armchairs with heavily stuffed seat cushions, and was hung with portraits of famous Kings of Balaen, all of whom looked the same despite not being contemporaries. I wondered if they’d been painted from life, and concluded not, since they all seemed to be by the same hand. So who knows if that’s how those men actually looked?

Anyway, the room was empty when I arrived, and I wasn’t ushered to a seat, so I wandered the room and looked at the portraits, and peeked out the windows, which faced north and therefore showed nothing of interest. I waited for several minutes, trying not to become bored or angry at how my time was being wasted, until a different door opened and a black-robed servant came in, a steward I think. He stood like he had a rod shoved up his ass and announced, “His Majesty Garran Clendessar, King of Balaen. Lord Jarlak Batekessar, Lord Caelan Crossar, Lord Merdel Lenssar, Lady Debarra Jakssar.”

The King and Chamber filed in in the order they were announced and took seats around the table. I still wasn’t invited to sit, but I hadn’t expected to be, so I didn’t mind. Lenssar said, “Tarallan should be here already.”

“He has many duties,” Crossar said. “We may excuse him some tardiness, I think.”

“And who’s the woman?” Lenssar said, jabbing his thumb at me.

“Lenssar, pay attention,” Jakssar said. “We met Sesskia the other day. She entered the invading army’s camp and brought us information about their forces.”

“I knew that,” Lenssar said, flushing. “I meant, why is she here?”

“Yes,” Crossar said, “why are you here? I summoned Corrmek Norsselen. Did he think a summons from the Chamber is something lightly ignored?”

“Um, Norsselen isn’t with us anymore,” I said. Norsselen was gone this morning, as were three of his minions. I was surprised it was so few, but I didn’t have time to do more than ask Jeddan to reorganize Norsselen’s former group before I had to attend this meeting. “He became incapable of performing his duties. I’ve, um, taken his place.”

“I don’t think a woman ought to hold a military position, even one as irregular as organizing those magickers,” Batekessar said querulously.

“Why not?” Jakssar said. “I’d think it was more important that a leader of mages should have magical ability. Sesskia, I assume you’re qualified.”

“I have the most pou—magics of all the mages,” I said, “and the most experience in using them. I don’t know that I have any knowledge of military matters, but I understand we’ll be directed by someone who does.” I was relieved none of them seemed inclined to pursue the issue of why Norsselen was gone. Despite what I’d said to him, it wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with the rulers of Balaen.

The door I’d entered by opened, and a man said, “My apologies, your Majesty, lords and lady, there was an unexpected issue I had to deal with.” He sat down near me, several seats away from King and Chamber, without being invited. He didn’t even look at me, which annoyed me, but again, it didn’t really matter.

“General Tarallan, welcome back,” the King said. “Are you prepared to defend this city?”

“We will be, your Majesty,” Tarallan said. “I’ve sent scouts to investigate the enemy position and we’re evaluating a strategy now.”

“What happened at the foreign city?” Crossar said.

“You know we had to abandon the siege,” Tarallan said. He sounded angry. “I don’t think they’ll send their troops after us, but I left a couple of battalions concealed near Brekner Pass to ambush them if they do. It’s a risk, leaving an enemy force where it can come upon our flank, but more risky not to try to meet the main army on our own terms.”

“It’s far more important that you protect Venetry,” the King said, once again sounding petulant. “We can’t afford to have the capital overrun by foreign invaders.”

“I don’t think it will come to that, your Majesty,” Tarallan said, a little too smoothly, I thought, like cosseting a child. But then I’m not sure anyone who knows him respects the King, poor man. Though I don’t know why I pity him. He’s responsible for protecting every Balaenic, which is a big responsibility, and I don’t think he takes it seriously. So I guess I don’t respect him either.

“Well, you’re going to have help,” the King said. “We’re training…Sesskia, you call yourselves mages, correct? We’re training mages to counter the magics of the foreign invaders.”

“I know that, your Majesty,” Tarallan said. “I intend to speak to Corrmek Norsselen this morning to learn how their training is proceeding.”

The King looked confused. “I thought you were in charge of the mages, Sesskia,” he said. “Isn’t that what you just said?”

Tarallan turned in his seat to look at me. “You?” he said. He sounded incredulous, as if there were something innately wrong with me that made my appointment to that position too strange to believe.

“Yes, General,” I said. I refrained from adding and yes, I’m a woman.

Tarallan looked at the King. “I’m not comfortable with this,” he said. “Norsselen and I had a good working relationship, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to change that when we are so close to conflict. I’m afraid I’ll have to insist he be reinstated.”

“Excuse me, but I don’t think you understand the situation,” I said, not caring that it might be out of line for me to address Tarallan directly without being invited. “Norsselen wasn’t removed from his position. He chose to leave. Reinstatement isn’t an option.”

“I’m the one who decides how my army runs,” Tarallan said, once again sounding angry. “You don’t get to tell me what I can’t do.”

…to be continued

20 Nevrine (continued)

Again, I didn’t even stop to think about the potential dangers. I just went insubstantial and let him run right through me, which made him stumble and go to his knees. Then I was terrified I’d killed him, and that fear turned into anger. Fury. Here was this man who had so much magic potential, had learned so much in a way I’d never thought possible, and all he could do was cling to his so-called power and bully others and tell them, essentially, that they’d never be as good as he was. And that infuriated me. It was a good feeling, a clean feeling, and I knew what to do with it.

“Jeddan, get him up,” I said. Jeddan hooked his hands under Norsselen’s arms, hauled him to his feet, and turned him to face me. Norsselen fought him, and shouted obscenities at me, until I got right up into his face and looped fire around his neck. That made him shut up fast, though he was still furious. I didn’t care anymore about what he felt.

“Listen to me, you idiot,” I said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. “I am sick of your posturing and your insistence that everyone defer to you because of some fantasy of power you dreamed up. I think you got lucky in developing several pouvrin and you don’t want anyone else to match you. How you manage to reconcile that fact with Jeddan and me working far more pouvrin than you all day long is a mystery I don’t care to unravel. But I’m not putting up with you any longer.

“If you can humble yourself, you’re welcome to learn with the rest of us. I’ll be happy to teach you. But if you persist in behaving as if the true God dropped you on the throne of Balaen to rule over the rest of us, I will turn every pouvra in my power on you until you are nothing but a puddle of weeping flesh. This is not a threat. This is a promise of the future. Drop him, Jeddan.”

Jeddan did so as I released the noose of fire. Norsselen looked up at me, and it makes me sick, now, to remember how much his expression of fear satisfied me. “If you can’t subordinate your pride to learning magic,” I continued, “get out. I’ll take responsibility for it to King and Chamber. I think they’ll understand when I tell them you were undermining our ability to defend Balaen. Now, which is it going to be?”

I thought about relenting a bit, telling him how much we needed his unique abilities, which was true as far as it went. But it didn’t go past an idle thought. I can’t believe how much pleasure I took in bullying him.

Norsselen got to his feet. He was shaking. Then he turned and left the room without saying a word. I realized I was shaking a bit myself. I said, “I think we’re done for today. I don’t know what you do for entertainment, but we all need to relax. I’ll be here in the morning, and anyone who wants to learn—” I glanced at Norsselen’s mages—“can join me and Jeddan.” Then I went to my room and sat unthinking for a while. And then, as I always do, I wrote.

Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, I can think about the consequences of what I did. I don’t know where Norsselen went. I think he’s probably gone. I guess I’ll find out come the morning. He might try to strike back at me, but right now I can’t think about that. I can’t think about anything except how afraid he looked at the end, and how much it satisfied me. It was wrong, and yet

There. I took about ten minutes to think it through, to calm myself. Because I don’t know that I was wrong in what I did. I’ve known a lot of people like Norsselen, and most of them don’t respond to anything but violence. I just never thought I’d be that person, the one facing them down. I feel like a stranger to myself today. Me, Sesskia, who’s spent a lifetime staying out of the way and not making waves, giving orders and facing down bullies and making speeches, true God help me. That’s not who I am. Except that now it is.

I never wanted to be this person. I was happy with who I was. But it seems this is what these mages need, and I don’t see how I can abandon them. I just wish I hadn’t taken such joy in tearing Norsselen down. I wish I had someone to talk to about it.

I tried telling Jeddan, but he just said, “The bastard had it coming to him, and everyone in that room knew it. The worst I can say is they probably shouldn’t have been so relieved it wasn’t them doing it, which is cowardly, but maybe none of them could. I think you’ve been their leader since we came through the door, Sesskia.” And that wasn’t helpful. I don’t want to

Oh, hell. I’ve just received a letter—it was directed to Norsselen, but nobody could find him, so they brought it to me. The army’s back. And it seems I’ve just nominated myself as the mages’ official liaison to Mattiak Tarallan, Commander General of the Balaenic Army.

20 Nevrine

I could have killed Norsselen today. That’s not metaphor. It still makes me sick when I think about it. And the thing is, I had that same feeling of rightness I did facing down those Castaviran villagers who were attacking Nanissa’s village, as if I could see the right thing and make everyone else see it too. I won’t know until tomorrow what Norsselen’s reaction will be, but what makes me ashamed is I couldn’t find a better solution than being a bigger bully than he is, just like in that village. I never thought I’d use these pouvrin to frighten people into submission. I’m afraid of who I’m becoming.

It was in all other ways a typical day. Jeddan and I decided not to start teaching the new pouvrin until we have more “students” ready to learn. That left us with a handful of people who had nothing to do, until it occurred to me to have them start helping with instructing the rest. That was only mostly a good idea, since they kept coming to me for guidance anyway, but it still mean faster progress, and I like the camaraderie it builds when they’re communicating with each other instead of just listening to me talk. But it meant I was too busy with my group to realize something was going on with Norsselen’s until one of the mages in that group stood up and said, loudly but not quite shouting, “I think you’re wasting everyone’s time, Norsselen.”

Norsselen looked up at him and said, “If you’re not capable of learning this, Kesse, I don’t think it’s my fault.”

“It is if you’re not teaching,” Fanion (that’s Kesse’s praenoma) shot back. “Telling us to embrace our inner magic is useless. I don’t think you have any idea of how magic works. I’m going to join Sesskia’s group—at least they’re making progress.”

“Sit down, Kesse, you’re just making a fool of yourself,” Norsselen said. Fanion turned on his heel and walked away. And Norsselen circled him with fire. Fanion cried out and stood motionless.

“Stop it, Norsselen,” I said, taking a few steps in his direction, and to my shock Norsselen repeated the trick on me. I was so surprised I just stood there in my ring of fire. It was tall enough that I couldn’t step over it, and I couldn’t dismiss it so long as he was controlling it, so I had no choice but to stand there and listen to him.

“I’m tired of playing this game, Thalessi,” he said. “You’ve tried to usurp my authority for long enough. I don’t care how many magics you have, I’m in charge here and I say what we do. And what we do is stop wasting our time trying to find structure in something that just arises naturally out of who we are. So why don’t you go back to playing with your magic, and let me teach these people how to fight, which is what we’re all here for.”

I couldn’t believe it. I’d had no idea he’d so insulated himself in his own group he didn’t realize the mages were actually accomplishing anything. “Norsselen,” I said, and then I couldn’t think of anything to say that would make a dent in his self-centered ignorance.

“Norsselen!” shouted a mage on the far side of the room. She was one of those who could work the see-in-dark pouvra and nothing else, a mage in Jeddan’s group. She came forward until she stood next to me, showing no fear of the fire. “You think we’re not learning anything?” she said, and pointed at the far wall. Two bricks and a handful of rubber balls came floating jerkily off their respective piles.

Norsselen and I both goggled at her. “I can do this because I understand the shape of the magic,” she said, “not because I gained some kind of…of mystical insight, or because I practiced really, really hard with my first pouvra. And I think you should shut up and start listening to Sesskia.”

Norsselen’s face went livid. He raised his hand (I don’t think I’ve said he’s taught all these people to use big gestures when they work pouvrin, the idiot) and pointed at the woman, and Jeddan started moving forward, and I shouted, “Everyone stop!” And everyone froze in place except Norsselen, who grinned evilly at me. “You have no power here,” he said, and actually set that woman on fire.

Everyone screamed. And I did something I don’t think I could repeat if it weren’t a matter of life and death—I turned my fire pouvra inside out and used it to dismiss Norsselen’s fire before it could do more than frighten the woman. Then I worked the same pouvra on myself and Fanion. And then I took several running steps and used all my weight to knock Norsselen to the floor.

Before his goons could react, I’d looked inside his neck and found a couple of key veins, held them closed just long enough to knock him unconscious, and between working those pouvrin I surrounded his followers with fire. It was exhausting, and I was breathing heavily both from exertion and from fury. I panted for a bit, hands on knees, then straightened and walked with very slow, very deliberate steps toward the corner where I’d pinned Norsselen’s men.

“I don’t want to fight you,” I said, and I put the fire out. It was harder that time. I’m going to have to figure out how I did that, but later. Much later, probably. “You’ve been listening to Norsselen because—I don’t know, I could be wrong about this, but I think he’s saying things you want to hear. Things that make you feel special. But you don’t realize that being able to work magic already makes you special. Not better than other people, of course, not more worthy of respect, but you’ve got something only a handful of people have. And you have the chance to learn more, and be more, and I don’t understand why you don’t want to take that chance. Think about it. If you don’t believe what I’ve been saying, fine. But please don’t interfere with all these other people who do.”

They were sort of huddled into their corner, just staring at me, not exactly afraid—more stunned, I think. None of them said anything. They kept casting glances at Norsselen; I realize now they thought I’d killed him, which probably worked in my favor as far as keeping them under control went. Then Norsselen groaned, and shook his head, and looked up at me as if he didn’t remember who either of us was. It took him a while to come to his senses. Then he got to his feet, shook his head again to clear it, and ran at me with his fists raised.

to be continued…

19 Nevrine

Norsselen is becoming a problem. I’ve had more and more of his mages (the ones in his group, not the ones who follow him) come to me asking me to take over their group. It’s about to come to a confrontation, and I don’t see any way around it. I wish I could use what I learned seeing Cederic keep Vorantor in check, but at least in that case they both had a common goal, even if Vorantor’s main motivation in achieving that goal was to bring himself glory. Norsselen doesn’t want the same things I do; from what I’m hearing, he doesn’t actually want these mages to learn new pouvrin because he’s maintaining his authority by virtue of having so many, and having tied gaining pouvrin to purity of character, he’s made it seem like he’s intrinsically a better person than they are.

Wonderful. Now confrontation is not only inevitable, I’m starting to think I should be the instigator. I have to make it clear that Norsselen’s approach is wrong on every level. But he’s got maybe twelve mages who look to him for guidance, and if it comes to physical conflict, that’s a lot of people to fight. And even if that fight goes my way, what am I going to do with thirteen belligerent, bitter mages who are required by royal fiat to be here? I need some way to get them on my side. Damn it. I really wish Cederic were here, because he understands these things. I can only fumble along and hope I don’t screw up too badly.

18 Nevrine

Another new mage showed up today. Jeddan and I amuse ourselves by trying to predict which faction the new people will attach themselves to. Most of the factions are just groups of like-minded people, the kind you get in any large group where you’re looking for people who share your interests so you don’t feel lost in the crowd, and therefore aren’t a problem. But there’s still Norsselen’s people, some of whom are causing trouble in Jeddan’s group (I try not to feel too grateful that none of them are in mine), and to my surprise there’s a small contingent who think we’re doing the wrong thing by turning our magic to the service of war. I’m sure if the King hadn’t made this a royal decree, backed up by threat of force, they wouldn’t be here. Relania heads this group, and while none of them resist the lessons they’re receiving, they’re all quick to point out the non-military applications of their pouvrin. (None of them have fire pouvrin. I don’t know if that’s relevant.)

We’ve got a few people in each group who are ready to move on to learning pouvrin. I feel stretched out, I have so many things to do—teach the pouvra vocabulary, teach pouvrin, wrangle Norsselen, suppress Relania’s tendency to give orders in my name, corner Jerussa (the mage who can flit from place to place) to get her to teach me her pouvra. It’s limited to range of sight, which is still impressive, but imagine a bunch of mages who can flit from Venetry to Thalessa in less time than it takes to say “Venetry to Thalessa.” That’s a three and a half week journey! I’m not giving up on that possibility, but I have to learn Jerussa’s pouvra first.

17 Nevrine

Bad news. A couple of mages from Norsselen’s group approached me to complain. He’s been “teaching” by way of spouting meaningless but inspirational-sounding platitudes that boil down to “if you practice magic hard enough, you’ll be given more of it.” Basically what he was telling them before, only now (according to the mages) he’s backing it up by explicitly referring to his greater skill with magic. And those mages have been talking to friends in other groups who really are learning to understand magic, and they realized they’re being cheated.

So we went out on the patio with our lunches, and I had them do their best to explain how they perceive magic. I didn’t understand fully, but it took a while for Jeddan and me to come up with a shared vocabulary, so I wasn’t expecting to. It seems where Jeddan and I see pouvrin as existing shapes, me observing them from the outside and Jeddan feeling as if he’s on the inside, this third group sees magic in pieces that shift until they reach the right configuration. Their explanation was more detailed than this, and “right configuration” isn’t accurate, but at least it makes a kind of sense.

I told them I would talk to Norsselen and that his approach wasn’t necessarily wrong, since it had worked for him. I felt bad about lying to them, but I’m still working out how best to handle Norsselen, and challenging his authority isn’t the way. Yet.

More progress. The new mages are surprisingly quick to learn, or maybe it’s just that Jeddan and I know which paths are dead ends and just avoid those in our teaching. Jeddan managed the mind-moving pouvra this morning and turns out to be just as weak at it as I am. Hope that’s not a result of my teaching. He doesn’t seem to mind—asked me how hard it is to learn to pick locks. I said with the see-inside pouvra it’s not even a challenge. Neither of our doors has a lock, so we’ll have to search around for one so I can show him.

I miss the days when it was just the two of us on the road, though not the cold ground and the bad food and the small-minded, bitter, xenophobic people. Jeddan says he’s also working variations on the see-inside pouvra at night. He’s more dedicated than I am. At night I barely have enough energy to keep my record up to date before I fall into bed.

Dreamed of Cederic again last night. That was the first time in a long time. I’m embarrassed to admit that, having some privacy now, I didn’t try to wake myself up when things got really good. I miss him. I hope he’s safe and well, and that he and the mages are making progress in bringing our cultures together, because I know that’s what would matter most to him. That, and finding me.

15 Nevrine

We were a little more organized today. Had the mages practice their pouvrin as a warm-up before breaking into groups for more theory. My group is moving along quickly, though not as quickly as Jeddan’s. I think their understanding of pouvrin, that sense of being shaped by the magic, is easier to comprehend than seeing it in multidimensional shapes the way I do.

I also think it’s why Jeddan has so much trouble learning to bend his will to meet the pouvrin; he’s used to thinking of it as something that makes him change and doesn’t have experience letting himself change. So their progress will almost certainly slow down once it comes to learning an actual pouvra. Jeddan also told me he still hasn’t mastered the mind-moving pouvra and wanted to work on it privately, so we’re doing that first thing in the morning.

No idea how Norsselen’s group is faring. They sit together, and talk a lot, but there’s nothing to see at this stage. I regret putting him in charge, because I’m less certain he’s willing to accept my explanation of how magic works. And he has a point, given that he didn’t need all this talking to learn more pouvrin. What I’m hoping is that he took my demonstration of pouvrin to heart, believes that people can be taught pouvrin, and is trying to figure out how he learned them so he can teach the method to others and spit in my eye. As long as he’s successful, I don’t care what method he uses.

16 Nevrine

More progress. I hope. Three new mages arrived. Norsselen led everyone except me and Jeddan in the pouvra performance. He hasn’t invited us to learn it.

14 Nevrine (continued)

So we sat everyone down, and I talked about pouvrin, and asked people to explain what they felt when they used their magic. It’s remarkable how easy it is to see the connections when you have enough mages in one place, all talking their way through the process of manifesting pouvrin. Where Jeddan and I had been initially frustrated by our very different experiences, I was heartened to discover that in this group of forty mages, instead of forty different ways of perceiving pouvrin, there were three.

So I rearranged everyone into new groups and told Jeddan off to handle the mages who learned the way he did. Relania and I fell into the second group, and, somewhat reluctantly, I asked her to work with them. That left me talking to the third group, whose experience was completely alien to me and, naturally, included Norsselen and five of his minions.

It didn’t go well. Norsselen’s group was resistant to any suggestion I made, and my efforts to teach them the vocabulary of pouvrin were mostly met with confusion. At the end, frustrated and tired, I resorted to bald-faced flattery. I pulled Norsselen aside and said, “You see magic so differently from me that I’m not sure I can help you. But I think anyone who could learn so many pouvrin so quickly can certainly figure out how to teach them to other people. And I think Relania isn’t experienced as a teacher. So it would be best if you’d take over here so I can work with that other group.”

It worked. Good thing for me Norsselen is either not as smart as he thinks he is, or really is motivated by a lust for recognition and honor. And maybe I’m wrong, and he’ll be able to analyze his perception of magic so learning new pouvrin will come more easily to him. But the real point is that this gives him something to do when we aren’t learning battle tactics and, I hope, keeps him from causing trouble. I don’t want to write about those. I really don’t understand about military strategy, but the thing is, I don’t think Norsselen does either. He’s got us drilling in ways I think would be useless in combat, but there’s no point me saying anything, both because it’s Norsselen and because, as I said, it’s not like I really know anything about it. So I’m just going to skip that part.

It was a long, difficult day, and the only bright spot in it was that my group, and Jeddan’s, learned a little of the pouvra vocabulary, enough that they could start comparing notes with each other, and it was amazing how cheerful everyone was about it. Not that this is a morose bunch; they all seem not to have any reservations about using magic, none of the fears that we old mages lived with all the time, but I think knowing that learning new pouvrin is not a matter of luck made them all feel confident in the magic they already have.

Lunch was brought to us in the ballroom, cold meats and cheeses and hunks of bread, but dinner was an elaborate affair in the large dining room (I was wrong, the table seats fifty) and Jeddan and I chatted with some of the other mages and learned a little of how they’d come to Venetry and what things had been like in the first few days. Though no one wanted to talk about that last subject, and when bringing it up blighted the conversation for several minutes, Jeddan and I didn’t press.

I gather that here in Venetry, at least, most of the mages created by the convergence were killed, and the survivors were lucky enough to either have had hidden pouvrin or people who cared about them to keep them concealed. I’d like to ask Norsselen what happened to him, but the odds of my carrying on a civil conversation with him are fairly low. So we danced around that subject, and ate too much, and now I’m in my room, and I’m so tired I can barely think.

But I don’t need to be able to think to know I’m not leaving Venetry any time soon.

I really didn’t realize this for the longest time. Not when I was organizing mages or coddling Norsselen’s ego, not when I was deep in enthusiastic discussion with my group (after gently relieving Relania of her duties; she’s not a good or patient teacher), not even when I was consulting with Jeddan on how he thought his group was doing (very well, though his group is also smaller than the other two).

No, it wasn’t until we were at dinner, and somebody said he wanted to learn the see-in-dark pouvra, joking that he wanted to be able to sneak into the kitchen for a late night snack, and I joked back and said something like “That will take at least a week” that I realized I’d committed myself. I’d acted all day like someone who’d made a long-term plan and was going to see it through. So the first thing I did upon returning to this room, before writing anything, was fling myself on my bed and scream into my pillow and beat my fists on the mattress. Because I don’t want to do this.

I’m not a leader. I don’t know anything about what the army wants its mages to do. I was barely able to teach Jeddan anything about magic, and he’s got actual experience with learning it, something none of these people have. I shouldn’t be here. I should be with my husband, learning to blend Balaenic magic with Castaviran, surrounded by my friends and working to bring our countries together, something I’ve got no power to do here. I should pack my things and walk out of here tonight, walk through Venetry’s wall and keep walking until I find Cederic. This isn’t my problem.

Except that it is.

I keep remembering how they all looked, listening to Norsselen talk about how impossible it was to learn magic, and how they believed him because they had no reason not to. I remember becoming a mage, and how the desire to learn more filled me so completely it was like a pouvra itself, compelling me onward, and I know every one of these men and women has that same feeling. And Norsselen was telling them that feeling was wrong, that it was impossible to satisfy it. I couldn’t let them go on believing that.

And once I’d proved to them it was possible, I couldn’t walk away. I have to teach them, even if all I can teach them is how to learn for themselves. I still don’t know how those ten mages learned more pouvrin spontaneously. It could be that becoming a mage via the convergence alters how you acquire pouvrin. See? Even now, even as I’m railing against fate, I’m making plans for what I’ll do with the mages tomorrow, and the next day, and so forth, indefinitely. I’m stuck here, and I did it to myself.

I hope, in the morning, I’ll be better resigned to my fate. Right now I’m going to put this book away and indulge my petulant, spoiled self whose only desire is to find the man she loves and curl up in his arms for the rest of forever. Tomorrow, everything will look different.

14 Nevrine (continued)

So I said, “Norsselen, how long have you been a mage?”

“A magicker,” he said.

“Almost exactly a month, isn’t it?” I said, ignoring him. “And yet you are awfully quick to say what is and isn’t possible.” I took a step back and raised my voice. “I’ve been a mage—” I couldn’t help stressing the word—“for over ten years. Jeddan here has been a mage for four. I learned my first pouvra when I was sixteen, and in the years since I’ve developed eleven more.” That got a reaction. I let them murmur for a few seconds, waited until Norsselen opened his mouth to speak, and overrode him. “You’re all young by my standards,” I said, “and you all came about your magic differently than I did. But there’s no reason you can’t learn new pouvrin just the way I did. More easily, maybe. So let me show you what I can do.”

I took a few steps toward the scarred wall and summoned the long whip of fire the way I had just minutes before. Then I brought up a huge swathe of fire (I admit I was showing off there), summoned water and tossed it into the center of the blaze, raising a huge cloud of steam. I worked as many pouvrin as were easily visible, saying “I can’t show you how I can see in the dark or see inside things, but I can do those too,” and ended by working the concealment pouvra and making all of them, except Jeddan, exclaim in fear or wonder.

Norsselen looked stunned and furious. I took a few steps toward him and dismissed the pouvra, making him curse and stumble away from me. “Sorry,” I said, though I wasn’t very. “You learned three pouvrin in a month, Norsselen. That’s impressive. I mean it. You’re a remarkable mage.”

“You dare come in here,” he said in a low, vicious voice I had to step close to hear, “and try to take over, as if you had any authority?”

“I don’t want to take over, Norsselen,” I said. “You’ve got these people working together, you seem to understand what the military needs from us—they look to you for leadership. But I know more about magic than you do. I just want to help everyone learn more. I want us to work together.”

Norsselen just glared at me. He was breathing heavily, and he looked both angry and afraid, and that made me feel afraid also, because it was the sort of situation that turns on a knife edge, balanced between sanity and violence. I hoped Jeddan was nearby, because if I had to turn a pouvra on Norsselen to protect myself, the room would erupt into a full-out magical war, with who knew how many sides. I kept my eyes fixed on Norsselen’s, willing him to see sense.

Finally he said, “I don’t think any of us realized magic existed before the Event. Or that…mages…from that time might have been able to survive the prejudice and hatred that dominated society before the King proclaimed magic to be good rather than evil. I think we all have a lot to learn.”

His little speech made everyone else relax, but his gaze was still locked with mine, and there was neither humility nor friendliness in it. If Norsselen could manage it, he’d make me disappear. One more reason he reminds me of Vorantor: he’s dangerous because he hides his true nature behind a façade of cooperation and amity, and even if you know not to believe the façade, there’s still no way to tell where he’ll attack from until he’s already launched himself at your throat.

“I know Jeddan and I have much to learn about how to use magic in the service of the army,” I said, hoping Norsselen would accept the bone I was throwing him and not toss it back in my face. “Will you let us work with you in mastering more pouvrin, and you teach us your military strategies?”

Norsselen nodded once. “You’ve seen what we can do,” he said, “and we’ve seen your abilities. I think it would be best if all of us were capable of fire, or of moving things; those will be useful in attacking the foe. Which do you judge will be easier?”

Jeddan said, “I’ve almost mastered the mind-moving pouvra. I could teach that and you could teach fire, Sesskia.”

“Either way, we have to begin by teaching everyone to understand what it is they do when they work magic,” I said.

“That’s what I’ve been saying all along,” said Relania. “That it’s all about giving the magic shape. But they just can’t understand.”

“It takes time,” I said. I’d seen Norsselen bristle when Relania started talking, and I couldn’t exactly blame him. She’d just been vindicated, and from what little I knew of her I was fairly certain she’d rub Norsselen’s face in it when she could. That would destroy any hope I had of getting Norsselen to cooperate.

“Remember how hard it was to learn the second pouvra?” I said, hoping her experience matched mine. “How everything seemed counter to sense? It’s not really fair to these people to expect them to understand more quickly than we did, I think.”

Relania’s gaze flickered to Norsselen’s face, just for a second. “You’re right, Sesskia,” she said. “But then, of course you’d know best.” (Side note: Relania uses my praenoma ALL THE TIME. As in, every sentence she directs at me. I think she’s trying to show that we have a special connection due to our having read the same books and therefore share some kind of magical genealogy. And she doesn’t have much in the way of social graces, though as I write that I realize that being as isolated as both of us have been makes it logical that we’d lack social graces, which means me having them at all is really what’s unusual. I don’t have the heart to tell her to stop, but I’m worried she’ll try to boss people around on the strength of her connection to me.)

“Thanks, Relania,” I said. “Norsselen, you know everyone’s strengths. Could you direct them to gather in groups based on what pouvra they’re best at?” I hoped I didn’t sound as patronizing as I felt. Either I didn’t, or Norsselen was pretending to be cooperative, because he started directing people into their groups, and I could take a few seconds to think very rapidly back over what Jeddan and I had been doing for the last month.

As I write all of this, I realize just how quickly everything happened—too quickly for me to think beyond the moment. It’s cold comfort to realize that even if I’d had time to consider the implications of what I was doing, I still would have made the same choices. Though maybe I would have been happier, making a conscious choice rather than feeling, as I do now, as if the choice was made for me.

to be continued…

14 Nevrine (continued)

Norsselen wanted us to be impressed, so we made appropriate noises. Then he said, “You’ve seen which groups you’ll work with. They’ll explain the techniques we’re studying, though of course everyone’s equal and you’re free to make comments of your own.” The look on his face said he didn’t consider himself anyone’s equal. He was really starting to annoy me, despite my resolve not to be drawn and my constant reminders to myself I wasn’t going to be here long enough to worry about what he did. But I couldn’t help saying, “You must be very experienced, to be in charge.”

“I live in Venetry, so I was the first to respond to the King’s summons,” Norsselen said, “and I’ve gained new magics faster than anyone, so everyone agreed I was the logical choice. I like to think I’ve been able to organize us efficiently. Of course I don’t think of myself as better, and I’m certainly not the best at everything. But someone has to take charge, and I’m pleased to do so.”

“Not everyone agrees with that decision, Norsselen,” said a woman who was just then entering the room. She had black hair, and brown eyes, and was so nondescript I felt a pang of jealousy, because with her looks I could go anywhere and never be noticed. Then I remembered that Cederic thinks I’m beautiful the way I am, and the jealousy passed. (It was stupid, I know, but I still think of myself as a thief first and a mage second, no matter how many pouvrin I learn.) “And not everyone believes we are pursuing the right course.”

“Phellek,” Norsselen said, “it’s good to see you. You see we have new members.” He really did sound genial, not at all offended by her remarks, and when I observed him he didn’t show any signs that he was concealing a different emotion. I think this was because he doesn’t see Relania as a threat and therefore is genuinely unmoved by her disdain for him.

“Of course I see that,” she said, and extended her palm to Jeddan, who was nearest her. “Welcome,” she said. “I’m Relania Phellek.”

“I offer you my praenoma in a spirit of kinship between mages,” he said. “My name is Jeddan.”

“And mine is Sesskia,” I said, “though—”

Relania gasped, and instead of laying her palm against mine, gripped my hand so tightly it pinched the skin. “Sesskia,” she said. “I know you. I’ve been following the trail you left for two years. Did you ever learn the mind-moving pouvra?”

I was so shocked I couldn’t pull away from her. This was no new-made mage. I’d left clues, here and there, for other mages to follow, but I’d never actually believed anyone would find them, much less be able to use them. So I’d signed my praenoma to all of them, more as a gesture of defiance at an uncaring world than to brag. “How long,” I began, realized that was a pointless question, and changed it to, “You found my clues?”

“Excuse me,” Norsselen said, but Relania overrode him.

“About two years ago, I stumbled on the cache outside Durran,” she said. “The one that has the see-in-dark pouvra. And you’d left that note about some of the secondary materials in the book, pieces that were incomplete, and that you were going off to find more of it. I never was able to make sense of it, myself, but did you?”

“Phellek, I’ve told you we aren’t humoring your desire to complicate magic with foreign words,” Norsselen said, though he kept looking at me as if he wanted to ask me questions but didn’t know which ones. “Or your claims of seniority.”

“Shut up, Norsselen,” Relania said. “This woman has even greater seniority than I. You should be asking her to teach you.”

This was where I regretted more than I ever have not having enough knowledge in advance to make the right plan. Not that I blamed myself. I couldn’t have guessed that an…well, an old mage, in contrast to the new mages, even though Relania is younger than I am. Anyway, there was no way for me to know that an old mage would find her way here, and not only an old mage, but one who’d used the same resources I had.

I couldn’t have guessed she and Norsselen had been fighting for over a week over Relania’s insistence that she had more experience; in the arguing that followed, I learned Norsselen didn’t believe Relania was any different than the rest of them and was dismissive of her pouvrin, since two of them were the invisible sort (the see-in-dark and see-through pouvrin). Not only that, he thought she was delusional and interested in stealing his power.

Relania, for her part, not only persisted in her story (because it was true) but was resistant to the idea of using pouvrin in the service of war. What the rest of the mages thought…well, the gang of toughs were Norsselen’s men (all men), and about a quarter of the others were willing to let him boss them around, and a handful of the rest sympathized with Relania, but covertly, since Norsselen seemed to have all the power.

All of that came later, though. At the moment, Relania was looking at me with something akin to worship, Norsselen was looking at me with suspicion, Jeddan was expressionless, and we were gathering an audience of people who probably were used to Norsselen and Relania butting heads and considered it good entertainment. And I had no idea what to do. I mentally cursed Relania for putting me in this position, and cursed Norsselen for needing to be in charge, and then I said, “I don’t want to interfere with the system you have in place. It seems to be functioning well.”

“Do you know her, Thalessi?” Norsselen said.

“No,” I said, and Relania made a sound of outrage. “We’ve just read the same books.”

Norsselen smiled one of those smug, self-impressed smiles that made me want to slap it off his face. “Another delusional,” he said in a low voice. “I suppose you’re going to claim you learned your magic from those books?”

“I’m not sure I understand, Norsselen,” I said in my sweetest, most reasonable voice. “How do you know that’s not possible?”

“We all have magic because of the Event,” he said, and I could hear him pronounce that capital E. “None of us needed books to become magickers. And magic is something inherent to each person. No one can teach magic any more than we can show someone how to change their hair color. It’s just not possible.”

I’m a thief. I’ve survived all these years by not standing out, by not causing trouble, by not letting my emotions get the better of me. And my first reaction to Norsselen’s smugness was to do just that. It didn’t hurt me that he was ignorant and power-crazed. I was leaving in a few days and it didn’t matter what he thinks of me. So I was going to let him keep his delusions. It would crush Relania’s hopes, but I wasn’t responsible for her emotional well-being. And it would give Jeddan the opportunity to choose whether he’d align himself with Relania or continue to conceal his abilities.

Then I looked around the room at everyone, and at this point it was everyone, watching our encounter. Norsselen had spoken loudly enough that everyone had heard him. I looked at their faces, and I realized Norsselen was going to deny every one of them their magical heritage. Who knew how many of them were capable of learning more pouvrin? Who knew how many of them would discover ones I’d never heard of? I could keep quiet for my own sake. Or I could speak out for theirs.

to be continued…