"So, more than just lifting things."
"How do you describe red to a blind man?" Sukata asked as she fidgeted with the hem of her smock, another sign that she was really upset. "Sound to the deaf? That is the lesson we’ve just learned: that Force – Thought magic can be used to say what words cannot. It has only been considered crude because we have not used it with any level of skill. She just told us that none of us are real mages."
"Do you think Rennyn’s cruel?" Kendall asked, after a moment. "Nasty, just for the sake of being nasty?"
Sukata stared at her blankly, then shook her head.
"If she thought it was impossible for you to learn Thought magic – properly – she wouldn’t have told you to try and pick up the bowl. Besides, it sounds to me that the thing that kills would-be Thought mages is being distractible or just not able to think in whatever way it is you’re supposed to think. You don’t exactly strike me as the scatty type."
"I have spent years developing my strength," Sukata said, her thin voice dropping so Kendall had to strain to hear it. "I would not be encouraged to take such a risk."
"Pft – far as I can tell from what was going on back there, we were allowed along because everyone else wants to listen in on these so-called lessons. If they have that much respect for her opinions on magic, are they going to argue about what she tells you to do? And there’s plenty of empty fields in Tyrland to practice in."
"I–"
"Afraid you’ll die?"
"No."
"Afraid you’ll fail, then."
Sukata curled her fingers shut. "And you?"
"Dunno. Might give it a few more days."
"You are very pragmatic."
"Even if I can only use it to move things about, it seems worth trying to me," Kendall said, shrugging. "Could earn some money rescuing kittens from trees."
"Worth trying," Sukata repeated, then looked down to the darkening water, where her mother stood directing groups of mages to stand about writing on slates. Even though Sukata wasn’t smiling, Kendall could tell that she’d made her feel better.
This needed to stop. She was letting others mind her business, and worse still she’d started minding theirs. Where would that get her?
Annoyed with herself, Kendall found a pebble and made it hop.
Chapter Eighteen
Rennyn stepped into the Eferum in a blaze of power. Until she discovered a better way to hide, her approach would be to play on her strength, and it gave her a good deal of satisfaction to send deadly bolts shooting in every direction hoping one would meet her Wicked Uncle. She kept up a steady assault on the emptiness around her, chopping and changing between a number of pre-prepared offensive spells until Solace’s focus warned her it was time to get down to business.
Relying on one last pulse of force to hold back immediate attack, Rennyn allowed her attention to be taken up by the attunement. Even as far back from the breach point as she was, the strength of the attraction between the focus and the Summoning dragged at her, but it was easier to resist when she was prepared for it. Done.
A small cluster of Eferum-get were approaching the breach, and she paused to blast them with raw power, incinerating them in a most thorough and final manner. Nothing like stopping an attack before it even started. But there was no wisdom in lingering in the Eferum congratulating herself, so Rennyn stepped back into the world.
Dawn. She’d managed to get in and out in only a few hours. The gentle hills to the east were picked out in pastel shades, with a hint of mist between clumps of sheep. Below, in the shadow of the cliff, the Sentene waited beneath their summoned lights for an incursion which would not come. A gull called, muted and distant.
"It went well?" Lieutenant Danress, standing at the very edge of Rennyn’s circle.
"Uneventful. There were a few smaller Eferum-Get heading for the breach, but I had an easy chance to kill them. Duramoi, I think. They weren’t carrying a shield-breaker this time, that I could see."
The faintest ring of metal made her turn. Captain Faille had drawn that overlong sword and was gazing out to the western horizon, his entire body taut with energy. In the delicately-tinted light he was a roseate gossamer man, and she saw in him an unexpected beauty. Dawn was the hour of the Kellian’s creation, and would be the time of their greatest strength.
"Captain?" Lieutenant Danress asked.
The grim lines on either side of his mouth deepened. "Something is coming." He turned a fraction toward Rennyn. "Bring them up from there. This is another trap."
Wryly reflecting on Lady Weston’s opinions about Kellian leaders, Rennyn obediently hoisted sixty people up a cliff. Since people and especially mages had an intrinsic resistance against Thought magic worked directly on them, this was not such an easy thing as throwing individual rocks about, and she was glad of Lieutenant Danress' steadying hand on her shoulder. She’d already used a lot of energy with her offensive spells in the Eferum, and had to take them in clumps.
"Arrowhead formation," Captain Faille ordered, underlining the command with a brief hand gesture. The Sentene rearranged themselves immediately, drawing the Hand mages with them so that only a small line remained on the cliff’s edge and the rest spread back in a triangle. "Return to the camp, my Lady," he added to Rennyn.
Rather than divide his attention, Rennyn retreated: not to the camp, but back and to the left. Faral and Meniar shifted out to flank her. And they all waited. There was no sign of whatever attack was coming. The breach had closed, and Rennyn had killed the Eferum-Get before they’d even reached it. Still, she was learning to recognise that the Sentene trusted Kellian instincts for good reason.
Her world was growing more complicated. She wanted to protect them. A sense of responsibility for the Kellian had overtaken her, along with a growing attachment. It was exactly as she had anticipated and very much not wanted. She hadn’t missed that they were all calling her "my Lady" now, and not just because it was a deal less clumsy to say than "Montjuste-Surclere". A return gesture for her grandstanding in the Hall of Question.
"There!"
Out beyond the shadow of the cliff, where the sea had lightened to stripes of oyster and pearl, a black shape had broken the shining lines. At first Rennyn thought it was a ship, but then it vanished, only to resurface a few moments later, much closer. Something very large, swimming.
It was moving at an incredible pace. If they hadn’t been all staring out to sea from a cliff-top vantage there would have been almost no warning. As it was, Captain Illuma gave several curt orders and everyone moved further away from the drop to the beach. A few of the Sentene mages began writing on slates, but most of them had already cast their offensive spells, and were simply holding them on trigger till their target came within range.
The swimmer struck the rock below, ramming it like a goat in rut. The impact was enough to shake more than a few mages from their feet, and a large section of the cliff fell away. The thing made a booming, moaning noise and then rose so they could properly appreciate what they were facing.