“It’ll be dangerous, for sure,” Gill said, “but nothing we can’t handle. I’ve been thinking we could recruit—”
“No, you don’t understand,” she said. “It’s not the danger of the dragons. It’s the danger I am to myself. And to others.”
Gill frowned. “What do you mean?”
“My time with the Order has made my magic stronger, but I haven’t learned to control it. That’s why I’ve been so tired. It’s magical burnout, and if I allowed it to go much farther, it would kill me. I can’t tell when I’m using too much and I can’t control how much I’m using. I have to learn, and I have to do that now. I’ve pushed my luck too far already. If I try to take on these dragons with you, I’m going to end up killing myself. If I knew more, I’d have been able to disable those people temporarily. Not…” She let out a sob.
He did his best to hide his disappointment, knowing he had to put his feelings to one side. He crossed the room and sat on the edge of her bed. After a moment’s awkward hesitation, he laid what he hoped was a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“You can’t beat yourself up about this. If you hadn’t done what you did, they’d have killed you.” He grimaced at his lack of success as she continued to sob. She stopped a moment later and took a deep breath.
“I know, but there was a better way. I don’t want that to happen again. I won’t let it. I have to learn more, and I can’t do that on my own.”
“I understand,” he said. “But where can you go?”
“Back to the Priory.”
“The Priory? Amaury will have you thrown in the dungeons the moment you set foot back in the city.”
“I don’t think he knows I was involved in any of it. Leverre said he left a note explaining what he intended to do, and putting all the blame on him. I can come up with a reason for my absence easily enough. There’s someone there I know will help me. I don’t think there’s anywhere else I can learn what I need to learn.”
“Are you sure?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” She smiled wryly. “I don’t have many options. There’s the Priory. There’s a library in the city—an old, secret one, a bit like the vault you found under your house. Even if the people at the Order can’t help me, I’m sure there’s something in there that will.
“If I try to work it out completely on my own, I’m likely to kill myself. Controlling the use of magic is the one thing the Order has a good grasp of. With their limited power, they’ve had to learn.”
“You’re right, of course,” Gill said, wondering if there was anything else in his vault he might find useful. Did he have the time to make the diversion on the chance there was? How many lives might that cost?
“You have to put your well-being first,” he said. “If you learn to control your magic, who knows the good you’ll be able to do with it.”
“I’m glad you understand,” she said. “I think there’s a way you can keep using the Cup, though.”
Gill perked up at this. He knew he had no chance of surviving three dragons, no matter how young they were, without the Cup.
“All the magic used in the ceremony comes from the Cup. You don’t need any extra power. The words spoken simply channel it. I think the reason there were mages in the old ceremony the statues showed was because they wanted to keep control of the magic. There’s no reason I can’t teach you how to carry out the ceremony on yourself, or on someone else.”
He nodded slowly. “That could work. If I can use the Cup, that should be enough to see me through. Particularly if I can recruit some help, which I’m hoping to do. There’s bound to be a few decent blades kicking around, looking for work.”
“When will you go?” she said.
He shrugged. “There’s not much time to waste. The dragons have been attacking for a week now. Coming closer to the village every time, and getting bigger. I’ll put the word out, see what comes of it, and try to set off tomorrow if I can. The day after at the latest. You?”
“The same. There’s nothing to be gained by my staying here any longer. The sooner I get going, the sooner I can take control of my life. Who knows, I might even be done in time to come and help you.”
He laughed. “If it takes that long, I suspect I’ll be beyond help.” He paused, feeling he should say something more, but couldn’t work out what. He took a deep breath and returned to practical matters. “So, about the Cup?”
“May I see it?” she said.
Guillot took the little vessel from the pouch on his belt and handed it to Solène. There was something comforting in touching its smooth steel sides, akin to the primal sense of ease that he felt sitting next to a crackling fire on a dark night.
“First things first,” Solène said. “I doubt the quality of the water used is really going to have any impact. The magic in the Cup is too strong for that to matter. As long as it’s not going to poison you, I expect it’ll be fine.” She turned the rimmed bowl over in her hands. “The amount administered might be a different matter, so I’d stick to what the carvings said—one droplet and no more. It’s all about transferring magical energy and focussing that energy to a particular end. Transferring too much could have all sorts of unintended consequences, and those aren’t things to play around with. The old mages decided one drop was enough to achieve the desired result, and we—you—should stick to that.”
Gill nodded intently. Magic terrified him, as it did most people, and being turned inside out or incinerated by magical flame—the first unintended consequences that popped into his mind—was not how he wanted to meet his end. He’d have preferred having nothing to do with magic at all, but he could speak firsthand to the Cup’s benefits, from healing to flame resistance.
“I can write the words down for you. The original is in old Imperial, but it’s not the words themselves that shape the magic. I’ll translate them as accurately as I can for you, which should work perfectly well.”
Gill forced a smile. He wasn’t sure, but she seemed confident, and she was the expert.
“It’s important to concentrate on the words and their meaning when you’re saying them. Their power is in focussing thought, and it’s the focussed thought that shapes the magical energy. It doesn’t matter if there are slight differences between the original and the translation as long as the meaning is the same. If you’re thinking about … I don’t know, a field of ponies when you’re saying the words, they won’t work. It might even turn you into a pony.”
“Definitely not what I want,” Gill said, worried now that he wouldn’t be able to think of anything but a field of ponies when he was saying whatever Solène wrote down for him. He tried to gauge if she was joking, but her face gave nothing away.
“That’s one of the hardest parts of shaping magic—holding that focus and concentrating on a single, pure thought. You won’t have to worry about any of the other stuff—the Cup will take care of the magical energy.”
“How long will the effects last?” Gill said, trying to determine if he felt any different from the way he had after Solène had first carried out the ceremony on him. He couldn’t tell and had no intention of sticking his hand into the fire in the lounge downstairs to find out.
“You’ll have to work that out for yourself. It could be hours, days, or even weeks. I really can’t tell. I’m not even sure how much magical energy is being used for the spell. The old Chevaliers seemed to go through the ceremony every time they went out to face a dragon, so I reckon it’s best to do the same.
“I wouldn’t do it any more frequently than that, though. Unintended consequences … If you figure out its duration, go with that. Otherwise, only use it when you need to.”