He was leaning on her more by the time they reached the infirmary, and dropped heavily to the bed, dislodging a couple of books. Kendall picked up the nearest. It was written, not printed, and even when she made the effort to decipher the scratchings, it made little sense. Something about the way the Eferum was a globe around the world, but inside and through and behind or similar nonsense.
"Control’s the thing you need to work for now," Sebastian said, kicking off his shoes. "You work on control your entire life, but the least you should aim for is to be able to move an object with the same exactitude as you would with your hands. It’s amazingly hard to manage, so start with just lifting and holding the pebble in place. Hold it unmoving as long as you can. Hugely dull, of course, but it will make a change from your Sigillic dictionary."
"What do I need to be able to do to be a Circle-Turner?"
"The basic ones about villages, you mean? Not much. Get a proper understanding of the sigils involved – there’s about thirty in those don’t cross circles. Beyond that, just have enough control to maintain a flow of power to activate sigils. Most of those Circle-casters are as much mages as a boy with a broom is a knight."
"Speaking of Surclere arrogance." Kendall shook her head when he grinned. "But how strong do you have to be? Nothing like your sister, I guess, but – are mages ever not powerful enough to turn circles?"
"I don’t suppose most travelling Turners have even summoned a focus, which is a good deal harder. The virtue of those circles is built up with constant reinforcement, not a single big casting. There’s no huge power requirement." He gave her a swift glance. "The pebble felt like a mountain, right? That’s not a gauge of your strength – you’re using a limb you’ve never even felt before. It’s like comparing a baby’s strength to an adult’s."
"Then how can I tell how strong I’ll be when I’ve practiced more? It matters, doesn’t it?"
"To a degree. The better mages have more strength in their focuses than intrinsically. The Force magic exercises will allow you to develop some of your natural potential. That will take quite a long time, and should also give you some idea of how much fine control you’re able to achieve. Strength, control and sense are the three basics. Willpower is their foundation. And by then you’ll probably know enough about magic to know if you’re really a mage or not. Presuming they ever give you something other than a dictionary to read."
"Whether I’m a mage or not? Is this more Surclere snootiness?"
"Perhaps. Are you really a mage if you just follow the patterns set out by other people? The difference between a painter and someone who copies other people’s paintings. Most of these people calling themselves mages, even in a place like this, just follow well-travelled paths. They’ll never cast a Sigillic someone hasn’t written for them, they don’t even bother to try Thought magic. Symbolic they run scared from. Most of the major castings will be beyond them because those castings aren’t just a matter of following a recipe, of writing a bunch of sigils and thrusting power into them. You need to be able to think, to see how it all fits together, and glimpse more."
There was an impassioned little throb in his voice. Kendall looked from him to the piles of musty books, dry and dull. "You really love this stuff, don’t you?"
"It’s what I am. I couldn’t stop if I tried. Even Ren, who swears that if she lives through this she’s never going to cast again, and will spend the rest of her life lying on a couch reading novels and eating cream cakes. She wouldn’t be able to go more than a couple of weeks before some idea occurs to her and she has to experiment with it."
"It’s what you are." Kendall considered him doubtfully, then shrugged. "Well, even those broomstick knights get paid more than enough. If you’re right about the strength, that’s a reason either way to see what kind of mage I can be."
"I’ve probably made you some enemies," he said, the thought obviously just occurring to him.
"Maybe. But it was fun to watch."
"Seriously, though. My fault for getting angry."
Kendall thought about it, then shrugged. "I know where to bite to make people let go, and they’ve rules here that make it risky for the students to hurt each other. They already ignore me, thank Fel. I guess they could try and get me kicked out."
Sebastian leaned back on his pillows looking tired and concerned. Not just making noises, but genuinely worried that he’d caused her trouble.
"There’s no cost to me, see? I didn’t particularly want to come here, and it would probably suit me better to go find someone a bit lower level who would teach me instead of giving me memory exercises. Whether I’m a real mage or not, it’s a bankable talent, and I’m smart enough to get myself 'prenticed pretty easy. And if I don’t like it – well, I can read and write and run errands."
"And you were envying Ren." He sighed, his eyelids sagging. "You’ve something neither of us have."
"What’s that?"
"The ability to walk away."
Chapter Eleven
Darasum House, the home of Earl Forinth, rested white and shimmering at the crest of a gentle hill. Before it, in what Rennyn was told was the Verisian style, was a great sweep of grassland exactly bisected by a series of terraced, stone-edged pools stretching halfway down to Carnell Lake. Spear-slim cypress in pale stone urns marched down the centre of the pool, with a rigidly kept herbal border keeping exact pace on either side. Between house and pools bloomed a rose garden of scrupulous symmetry.
The Earl had been informed well in advance that an incursion had been predicted to take place on his estate. He was a bluff, slightly pompous man in his forties, all rosy cheeks and moustaches. Rennyn had found his mixture of affront and stifled pleasure in the proceedings rather endearing. Then Solace’s focus had led them a third of the way down that magnificent, carefully-tended stretch of grass and the day had ground to a halt.
Feeling sorry for both the Earl and the two Hand mages trying to calm him, Rennyn wandered back up the lawn and explored the roses. She was joined by the Earl’s wife, Lady Risdale, a heavyset, red-faced woman who told her the names of different flowers and watched imperturbably as her husband gesticulated and shouted in the distance while the mass of Ferumguard and Sentene waited to one side.
"How very out of place they look," Lady Risdale remarked. "Like some fantastical flock brought on the wind. Shall I go calm him? You must be anxious to prepare."
"The breach isn’t due till late afternoon." Rennyn glanced up at the high sun. "This parkland is worth a few minutes' protest."
"Grass will grow back. And it will give him something to point to and boast of." Lady Risdale smiled indulgently. "He has been very excited, and will remember the alternative soon enough. He will dine out on what he sees tonight for years."
Rennyn glanced sideways at the noblewoman, at the lines of care and humour on her face. "Don’t," she said. "Watch them build it if you wish, but not the rest. Go into the village for the evening. And send your servants away."
"You think there is a risk some will escape this shield?"
"I think you would not be able to describe what happens tonight and stomach a meal."
Lady Risdale’s smile faded, and she stood motionless as her husband made a dramatic gesture and began striding toward the house. "I have already sent the children to my mother. I will – wish you luck, Lady Montjuste-Surclere."
Murmuring her thanks, Rennyn walked back down to the cluster of uniformed figures as they switched into action. By the time she reached them, Earl Forinth’s sweeping lawn had a large circle cut out of it, beetles and earthworms squirming away from their sudden exposure. A spot toward the outer edge of the expanse of scythed grass seemed near enough, and Rennyn cleared and marked a far more modest circle, then spent some time casting defensive enchantments on herself. The Sentene had been discussing ways to overcome the practical difficulties of protecting someone in the Eferum, but if that was even close to easy, summoning focuses would not be so perilous. Captain Illuma was playing bodyguard today, and all she could do while her charge was in the Eferum was wait for her return. Rennyn thought she detected faint approval for her precautions, but doubted any of the Kellian enjoyed having their hands tied.