LE Modesitt Recluce 08 The White Order (v1.5)

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

seared his throat, then eased back the straight-backed chair and stood.
I am not hiding a secret from you, Myral added. I can tell you what is,
but you have to find out how to make it work for you.
Yes, ser.
Cerryl. Myral s voice hardened. You can honestly try to understand, or
you can pretend you do and fail or die young. You choose. He nodded to the
door once more.
As Cerryl left and started down the stone steps, the sound of the white oak
door s closing still echoing in his ears, his throat still burning, he felt
like screaming. If he didn t have the ability to muster strong chaos force, he
would be at the mercy of the Kesriks of Candar. If he didn t get control of
the chaos force outside himself, he d die young. If he didn t keep some
ability to handle chaos, he d fail and die.
But& Myral was suggesting that the ways that Cerryl knew would work were
wrong, and that the ways he couldn t even see how to master were right, and
then Myral had the coldness& the something& not even to offer a single
practical piece of advice.
The young would-be mage shook his head as he walked down the steps,
thinking of another long day in the sewers, fumbling and scrambling with his
uncertain control of chaos-fire& and his all-too-uncertain life in Fairhaven.
LXX
Behind Cerryl, back up the runnel toward the steps to the street and the
bronze sewer grate, Lilian s lance tapped nervously, then stopped, as if
Dientyr had jammed an elbow-or something-into the other lancer.
Cerryl could sense that the day was getting late. He was sweating, and his
tunic probably reeked from sweat and fear and sewage, so much so that he
smelled nothing.
He had tried everything he could think of, but still the only way he could
seem to manifest a decent amount of chaos-fire was to let it flow through
him-half-instinctively. Yet Myral had been quite clear that such was far from
the best way.
Cerryl wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, looking almost blankly
into the darkness. His eyes were tired, and the darkness seemed to flash at
him in waves.
For a moment, he closed his eyes, trying to think. What was he overlooking?
He had to be missing something. Maybe there wasn t enough chaos close enough
to him to channel. Did one have to gather chaos? How?
There had to be a way. Myral s words still rang in his ears. & use chaos
without being of chaos& gathering chaos from the world around us&
What drew in chaos? Sunlight?
Cerryl nodded, imagining himself as a huge flower, drawing in chaos as a
blossom drew in sunlight, turning that sunlight into flame, and directing it
toward the slime on the bricks&
Whhhssstttt& A line of golden white flame-a line of flame flashed from the
air before Cerryl down the tunnel& not touching the green-coated bricks
until-who knew how far away?
Cerryl stood motionless, unable to believe what he had seen. Had he really
seen it?
Again, after another deep breath, he tried to replicate the sense of
gathering chaos as the flowers gathered sunlight, and to let it flow around
him-not through him-but around him and slightly down.
Whhsttt!
The golden white flame lance seared a line across the bricks.
A wide grin spread across Cerryl s face, and he felt like jumping Up and
down in joy. Instead& he tried to replicate the feeling, the actions again.
Page 150
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Whhhsstt!
For the third time, the flame lance flared down the tunnel, at a flatter
angle that seared away even more of the scum and slime.
The young mage, unable to keep the grin off his face, kept looking into the
darkness as he took another long breath. He was winded, and tired, but he had
something, something he wasn t sure he d seen elsewhere. But would Jeslek or
Sterol have showed all they had?
He shook his head.
Behind him, Ullan s lance tapped nervously, once, twice.
Not now, hissed Dientyr.
Cerryl turned, wiping the grin off his face. Ullan& I know it s
uncomfortable down here, and I know you don t like it, but when you keep
tapping that lance, it distracts me, and that means whatever I m doing will
take longer. He paused. I d appreciate it if you d make a bigger effort not
to tap it on the bricks.
Yes, ser. Ullan s voice squeaked on the ser, and the thin dark mustache
bobbed, and sweat streamed down his forehead.
Good. Cerryl turned back to the tunnel, wanting to see how much more
progress he could make while refining his new technique.
Lucky& Ullan& real lucky, whispered Dientyr.
Cerryl forced himself to concentrate, to ignore the rising sense of elation
that had begun to fill him.
LXXI
As he stepped through the squared archway into the foyer of the front Hall of
the Mages, Cerryl wiped the dampness from his forehead, part sweat from the
rapid walk down the avenue until he had parted from Jyantyl and the lancers at
the edge of the square and part dampness from the spring drizzle that cloaked
Fairhaven, so fine that his head almost didn t ache. His eyes blinked to
readjust to the dimness inside the building. After a moment, he started toward
the back of the hall and the courtyard. The evening bells had not rung, and
that meant he had time to get washed up before eating and not be one of the
late arrivals.
A motion caught Cerryl s eyes, and he stopped just inside the foyer.
Eliasar marched quickly from the tower steps through the foyer. The arms mage
wore a huge white-bronze broadsword in a shoulder harness, and a shortsword
from a belt. A lazy smile flickered across Eliasar s face as his fingers
touched the hilt of the shorter blade.
Cerryl frowned but followed Eliasar toward the courtyard. When Cerryl had
reached the fountain, though, the arms mage was out of sight. With a shrug,
Cerryl circled the fountain, avoiding the wet stones near the basin, and
entered the rear hall, then turned toward the washrooms.
For once, even after cleaning up, Cerryl got to the meal hall before most
of the other students or the handful of mages who ate there. Esaak sat alone
in one corner, perusing a book of some sort, and another apprentice-Kochar-sat
at one of the larger circular tables. Kochar s eyes went to the table s
surface as Cerryl glanced toward the younger redhead.
Young Cerryl! called Esaak.
Yes, ser. Cerryl turned and started toward the older mage.
You can eat. You young men are always starving. I was once. Remember, I
want the best you can do on those cross-section and flow problems tomorrow.
Yes, ser.
Good. Esaak waved. Go eat.
Cerryl headed back toward the serving table, getting there just as Bealtur
came through the archway. Cerryl filled his platter with lemon creamed mutton
chunks over hard bread, grabbed two pearapples to balance the heavy meat and
thick sauce, and added the mug of ale. He made his way to one of the empty
circular polished white oak tables.
Page 151
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Linki