fCopyright 1995, Mary Mannon Reeves.
No part can be used in any way without written permission from the author.
LESSONS IN STONE
By
Mary Mannon Reeves
Help would be coming soon. Moranx clung to his turret and Sought the road, a long, miserable strip of ankle-deep mud. He was dying in the rain by inches and that bitch of a sorceress had to know it. His day would come, though, for Moranx could feel the Power growing, like a diamond pressed slowly from the heart of a stone.
Water dripped from his long, pointed nose. Somewhere, the earth sucked hungrily at carriage wheels as they fought their way through the muck. Moranx Saw the coach long before it broke the meager cover of trees and was vaguely surprised by the range of his vision. His scope had nearly doubled since the battle.
Laniar stood on the wide porch of the manse, partially spared from the torrent by the massive reach of oaks above him.
"It's not that bad," the sorceress smiled, " especially now that I've fixed the roof."
"Hrrm. Yes. I saw your additions. Are they useful, or merely flights of truly gruesome fancy?"
"Quite useful. They act as rain spouts. I haven't had a leak in oh, five years now."
They settled before the large hearth of the great room and passed a congenial hour in greeting and gossip. Finally, the old archmage leaned forward and addressed his hostess, all good humor gone.
"Frankly, Palanya, we're a trifled worried at the Academy."
Palanya smiled over the rim of her snifter and watched the flames distort in the amber spirits. "About my journeymen, I presume?"
"Yes, dammit, about your journeymen! Or should I say, your lack of journeymen? We've sent you a candidate a year for the past five years and haven't heard from them since."
"Seclusion has always been an important part of learning the arcane arts, Laniar."
"Seclusion, yes. But imprisonment?
"Tch. I would never deliberately imprison my students. Although that first one you sent me, Moron? Manxor?"
"Moranx!"
"Ah, yes. Moranx. If any aspiring wizard ever asked to be punished, that one did!" A smile teased the sorceress's narrow face. "But I did nothing to the boy."
Nothing? Moranx's thought screamed from the roof. You call this nothing?
Again, his anger gave way to realization. His Hearing had improved as much as his Sight. The gem that was his Power throbbed in his cold chest, expanding to fill it with a warm, blue light.
"He tried to battle me, you know. Barely begun his master work -- a focus stone -- and the little snot tried to challenge me!"
Laniar chuckled. "That's the Moranx I remember. Ambitious little fellow. Homely, too."
Palanya roared with laughter.
"Of course, if you blasted him battle, that's understandable. But what of your other journeymen? Timid Flario? That sweet-tempered one, Margita? Surely not all five challenged you?"
"No, no, of course not," Palanya wiped the tears from her eyes and chuckled again. "But Laniar, my old Master, my dearest friend, we learn so much from our students. Moranx taught me something in that battle that I've found very useful. What is the single hardest thing to teach a student of the arcane?"
Laniar scowled. "Firebolts? You nearly razed the alchemist's tower if I recollect clearly..."
"No, no, no. Firebolts are easy to learn, if not easy to control. Moranx picked that up right away."
Didn't I ever? Despite the rain, now pelting heavier and gushing out of his open mouth, he glowed with the sorceress's praise. Secure in his knowledge of firebolts, he'd snuck up on the sleeping Palanya. It was common knowledge in the Apprentice Hall that you won a wizard's secrets with his or her life, and Moranx was tired of waiting. Tired of the piddling, menial tasks the sorceress had set for him.
He�d gathered the fire in his hands, living globes of red and gold, and hurled them at her sleeping form. Oh, what a sight it had been, the sparks encasing Palanya�s robes, running the length of her body like so many salamanders! Then disappearing completely.
The sorceress had slitted one eye open.
�Very nice. You can now add cooking to your chore list.�