I laughed . . . then quit. She was serious. Worse, she might be right as she held the open container nearer to me, her face serious, her eyes imploring. With trepidation, I concentrated on the moisture nearby, the morning dew that remained in shaded places, the dampness just under the surface of the glen, and then my mind found the obvious source, the river a few short steps away.
The river water was easy to gather and draw near me, sans the mud in it. Instead of directing how it should be done, I let my mind wander and explore. All the water concentrated in one tiny space above the jar. A trickle the size of a thread flowed and splashed into it with the watery sound of a small spring falling down a rocky hillside.
The water jug echoed the sound. The stream was tiny but would eventually fill the jar. Elated, I pushed harder, and the thread of water grew to the diameter of yarn, then larger. It flowed clean and clear, as large around as a small rope, and quickly overflowed the jar. Kendra grabbed another with a whoop of pure joy.
She was no happier than me. My magic was doing something purposeful and helpful. More than parlor tricks. To anyone looking on, they would believe they were watching a mage. I shut the water off but had accumulated into a bubble of it in front of me the size of a melon. It had nowhere to go but fall to the ground, and if it did, both of us were going to get wet.
I concentrated harder and no longer drew water to me, but kept it hovering near our faces, then with a power drawn from deep inside, I pushed. Pushing water is not easy. No easier for a mage than a normal person. Imagine pushing water in a lake with your hands. As you push, more fills in behind. It was an example I’d use a hundred times.
So, instead of pushing in the normal sense, I engulfed the entire sphere of water at once, grasping each molecule of water individually, and pushed all at once. The water shot away from us, spreading out and turning into a brief fog as if some giant had spat a mouthful of water.
We sat and looked at each other, neither of us knew the words to say. We were astounded, impressed, amazed, and fairly speechless.
Kendra recovered first, which was no surprise. She had the quicker mind. “That was fun.”
Her choice of words was not those I’d choose. I said, “I saw a flash of light this morning. Two, actually. Like a glint of the sun off metal or glass.”
“Where?”
“North, nearer the lake. We should go there and investigate.”
She nodded, without the mention of food or a complaint about a slight detour. “If there are soldiers close by, we need to know. Also, glass or metal has to be clean to reflect sunlight and things get covered with sand quickly in the desert. To me, it says there must be at least one person out there, the flash was not made by something left behind years ago.”
Her method of analyzing things fascinated me. She stripped down a problem, determined the probable outcomes of each option, and arrived at the correct solution. Me, I just plunged ahead and hoped for the best.
Anna’s thoughts came to me. *We are nearing the channel to the next lake. No soldiers in sight and no boats are chasing us. The wind has picked up, and we’re using the sail and resting those rowing. I’m going to take a nap.*
I answered, *We are just waking up after a long night. We saw a flash of light in the distance and are going to check it out.*
*Be safe.* The link to her mind blanked, and I told Kendra the little she’d shared, although I shouldn’t sound like it was not good news. Often when nothing happens, that is the good news.
We rode out, side by side for a change. I pointed the way where the two flashes of light came from, then said, “Ever since we were near that last Waystone my powers have been stronger. I don’t understand it.”
“There must be a link,” she agreed. “Maybe it opened your mind up to accept what you’re capable of doing.”
We rode on. After a while, I said, “I’d like to find another Waystone.”
“You want more power?” she asked. “Be wary of too much.”
That was a direct question my mind dodged answering. Did I want more? “A little time alone with a Waystone might provide answers for what happened to me. Why we’re here.”
“Or give you more power and you’ll be more arrogant and dangerous.”
“I didn’t say that.”
She turned to me. “Power is a funny thing. It can help with a specific situation, but when things return to normal—then what? Are you sure you want to mess with something that might turn you into the next Young Mage?”
“I’m not like him.”
She didn’t accept that. With a shrug, she said, “Not yet. Keep messing with things you don’t understand and who knows?” She touched her heels to the flanks of the horse and spurred it to move ahead of me.
I wanted to fight back. I had nothing.
I also knew she was right. We rode on, keeping a careful watch ahead. Our route changed slightly when we neared a small hill off to our right. We rode most of the way up the backside, then walked our horses until we could see over the top to the flatland beyond.
The lake was still out of sight, too far away to see. However, there was a patch of green in a small valley. Trees and tilled fields were evident. A single large structure stood in the shade, a long, low building constructed of wood and mud plaster. Others smaller buildings surrounded it. Nobody was in sight, but animals grazed in the pasture, a few sheep, goats, and two horses.
I said, “We should spend time watching and learning before revealing ourselves.”
“I’m hungry.”
Her tone was not pleasant and stealing a goat might be the easiest solution. However, as I thought about that, a pair of dogs barked crazily. Not at us, but perhaps they’d caught our scent. The door opened, and a large man strode out, followed by another, slightly smaller.
They paused, looked around, and appeared to be brothers. Their hair was black and wild, the kind that sticks out at all angles and refuses to be tamed. Their shoulders were wide. They moved with power.
Kendra said softly, “One end of the largest building is a house. The other end a barn. An interesting concept.”
“Where does the water to grow the trees and crops come from? A spring?”
“Maybe one of them is a nasty-tempered mage who refuses to feed his sister when she’s hungry.”
I barked a laugh, then stifled it, so they didn’t hear me. There seemed two ways to proceed. Try and sneak down to the cabin and steal what we could, or ride in the open and hope for the best reception. We chose the latter.
That does not mean we went without a caution. Kendra loosened her throwing knives, and I slipped my sword, but more importantly, I began using my mind to search. And my eyes.
My enhanced senses reached out. I readied myself to draw power from the ground and sky, and turn it into a bolt of lightning, thinking the flash and noise would scare an opponent. All that happened was the dogs spotted us and charged to greet us.
They were the noisy sort of watchdogs, not guard dogs that were trained to attack but to bark and warn the owners when strangers arrive. They did their job well.
The two men reappeared from inside the barn, both holding farm implements as if by accident. A shovel in the hands on the larger, and a pitchfork in the hands of the other. Weapons, if required, a silent threat in any case. They quietly waited for us to approach. Instead of brothers, it was a father and son.
I saw movement inside the cabin and knew at least one more person watched us. We slowed a fair distance from them, and the dogs barked until called off by the larger of the pair.