LESSONS IN STONE continued....
By Mary Mannon Reeves
Copyright
Moranx�s glow of accomplishment faded, doused by memory and the unending rain. He Sought the trickling paths of water and knew the rain was eating away at the stone fingers curled around his ankles. It was nibbling away at his pointed ears.
�Air, then. Controlling the winds,� Laniar offered.
�Hmm, harder to learn than fire, true, but it came quickly enough to our ... homely... little journeyman. I was on the roof, fixing yet another leak, when the fox snuck up on me again. He fetched up a windstorm like calling a dog and laughed like Old Harick when he�d discovered they�d canonized our Ambrosius. Was rather embarassed when the gale passed through me and didn�t even twitch the hem of my robe.
Moranx studied the eroded fingers, only half-Listening to Palanya�s history. Was there a hint of pink beneath the gray? Again, hope surged. And despair. How long had it taken the rain to eat through that layer of stone? Five years? For one finger?
He tried to flex it. Yes, ther was a little movement there, but nowhere else. Perhaps if he increased the rain...what was it in the rain that ate stone? Just friction, but if he added something else...What did the plate makers use to etch their printing blocks?
Acid.
Frantic after five years of waiting, Moranx forced his thoughts to slow. He cast through his memory for sources of acid while the oak trees thrashed above him, bearing the weight of the storm in their massive boughs.
Beneath his stone mask, Moranx smiled, and began to gather the wind.
"By the time his tempest had spent itself, Moranx realized that I'd merely moved to another Plane, leaving only my image for him to harass. Foolishly, I returned my body to the solid world, thinking the boy would have to practice another spell before attacking me again."
"Fire, air...earth," Laniar began to chuckle. "And you mirrored the spell."
"It was all I had time to do. Tell me, master, was there nothing familiar about the gargoyles upon my roof?"
This time, it was the old man who roared with laughter. Palanya waited until he subsided to mere chuckles, then leaned forward urgently.
"You haven't figured it out yet. What is the hardest thing for the mage-student to learn?"
"Not water, surely?"
"No, no... I suspect that even now my young student has accomplished that aspect of his studies. Think, man! What was the hardest thing you had to teach me?"
Once the spell was set, Moranx was content to wait. The wind had collected the oak leaves and plastered them to his form. He monitored the rain...a constant drizzle to keep them wet, but not wash them away. Against his heart, his focus stone pulsed and sent surges of blue light to his limbs, with the vaguest notion that it might accelerate the process. He wondered if it might take another five years to win a finger free, and found he didn't care. He could command Sight and Hearing, wind and rain from his stooped position. There was no telling what else he could do, but he would find out, over time.
Palanya lifted her head, as if listening to the storm subside. She smiled and waved a negligent hand.
The stone cracked.
"Patience, Laniar. The hardest lesson of all is patience."
The doors slammed open, spraying the hall with rain and shaking the manse to its foundation. Moranx stood before them, trembling and wet, gravel clinging to his hair and robes. Flames played over his clenched fists and whipped his unruly hair into a sparkling blue halo.
"Igu an ost bif er uppa?" The words tangled evilly on a tongue long unused to speaking.
Laniar lunged forward, gathering Power, but Palanya waved him back.
"Yes, Moranx?" she said calmly. "You were saying?"
The journeyman shook his head and coughed.
"Did you want roast beef for supper?" he rasped.
Laniar's jaw dropped. Palanya smiled.
"That would be nice, yes. And as soon as the dishes are done, you may start on your master's thesis. Might I suggest an Alchemy work, and the uses of the elements therein?"
"Thank you Master Palanya," Moranx limped away, trailing gravel behind him.
"Patience, Laniar. Patience."
On the roof, four gargoyles sighed as one, and began coaxing the rain in their direction.
The End