“A good morning to you, Apprentice Tessia,” she said. “My name’s Malia. I’ve been looking after your new friend down the other end of the corridor for a few years now, so I’m used to the ways and needs of young apprentices. Here’s your wash water.”
Malia had a large jug in one hand and a broad basin in the other, and bundles of cloth wedged under one arm. She set all down on the top of one of the chests.
“I’ll bring your morning meal up for you in a bit,” she continued. “Is there anything you would like?”
“What do you usually have?”
From a long list of foods, some of which she had never heard of anyone eating first thing in the morning, Tessia chose something simple and the servant left. Tessia washed and dressed, then combed and plaited her hair.
“Lord Dakon will see you in the library when you’re done,” Malia said when she returned with a tray laden with food. “No hurry. He’s always in there in the mornings, reading.”
At the thought of this impending meeting, perhaps her first lesson, Tessia’s appetite lagged, but she forced herself to eat the food the servant had brought, knowing she’d feel guilty about wasting it if she didn’t. Picking up the tray, she carried it out of the room, encountering Malia in the corridor outside.
“Oh, you should just leave that there,” the servant exclaimed.
“Bringing it down is my job.” She took the tray from Tessia.
“Where is—” Tessia began.
“Down the main stairs to the first floor, turn to your right,” Malia answered. “Can’t miss it.”
Following the servant’s instructions, Tessia found herself standing in an open doorway, gaping. Inside was a room twice the size of the Residence’s dining room – which was almost the size of her father’s entire house. This room was lined with shelving crammed with books. Lord Dakon was sitting in a large cushioned chair, his eyes scanning the pages of a large, leather-bound tome. He looked up at her and smiled.
“A good morning to you, Tessia,” he said. “Come in. This is my library.”
“I see that, Lord Dakon,” she murmured, staring around the room as she entered.
“I thought we could start your control exercises today,” he said. “The sooner you attain it the sooner we can avoid any more unintentional magical strayings – and get to more interesting lessons. We’ll work in the mornings, then I’ll give you books to read in the afternoon.”
She felt her stomach flutter. “Yes, Lord Dakon.”
He nodded to the chair next to his. “Take a seat. Learning is always easier when you’re comfortable and relaxed.” He paused. “Well, as relaxed as you can be when confronted with something new and strange.”
Moving to the chair, she sat down and took a deep, calming breath. Lord Dakon put aside his book and looked at her thoughtfully.
“I haven’t taught a natural before,” he told her. “But nothing I’ve read or been told indicates the lessons need to be done any differently, which suggests to me that if we do encounter something unusual it will be small and easily worked around. Are you ready?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know what ‘ready’ is when it comes to magic. But I don’t feel unready, I suppose.”
He chuckled. “That sounds good enough to me. Now, lean back in your chair, close your eyes and breathe slowly.”
She did as he asked. The broad back of the chair had a slight backward tilt, encouraging her to rest against it. She let her hands lie on the chair’s arms and her feet sit flat on the floor.
“Let your thoughts wander,” Dakon murmured. “Don’t be too anxious for the lesson to work. It’ll happen when it happens. One week, two, perhaps three, and you’ll be ready to learn to use magic.”
He kept talking, his voice gentle and unhurried.
“Now I’m going to put my hand over yours. This will enable my mind to communicate with yours with less effort.”
She felt fingers gently press on top of hers. They were neither hot nor cold, the touch neither too firm nor too light. It was a little odd and personal having the ley’s magician touching her hand like this. For a moment a memory of a Sachakan face leering over her flashed through her mind. She pushed it aside, annoyed. This is nothing like that. Lord Dakon is nothing like Takado.
Then she remembered her suspicion that her mother wanted her to marry Lord Dakon. She couldn’t imagine he would ever consider her as a potential wife. Surely he’d rather marry someone more important than a commoner like herself. She was nowhere near pretty enough to make up for her low status, either. No matter what her mother thought, she was not going to try to seduce the magician. For a start, she had no idea how. But more important, she didn’t even know if she—
“Think about what you can see,” Dakon instructed, his voice calm. “Nothing, am I right? Just darkness behind your eyes. Imagine you are standing in a place with no walls or floor or ceiling. It may be dark, but it is comfortable. You are standing within it.”
She felt something then. A sensation that was not physical. A feeling of personality...of Lord Dakon’s personality. It seemed to emanate reassurance and encouragement. And certainly not romantic interest. She was surprised at the relief she felt. She didn’t need such distractions when she was trying to learn something this important.
“I am standing behind you. Turn round.”
Whether she had turned round, or the dark place in her imagination had revolved, she couldn’t tell. Lord Dakon was there, a few paces away. Yet he wasn’t completely distinct. Only where she looked did he come into focus completely: his face, his feet, his hands. His smile.
– Good, Tessia.
She understood that he had spoken into her mind. Could she do the same in return?
– Lord Dakon?
– Yes. You are doing well.
– Oh. Good. What next?
– Can you see what I’m carrying? It is a box.
His arms lifted, and she saw that there was something in his hands. As he said box it immediately resolved into a small night-wood container with gold corners and latch.
– Yes.
– This contains my magic. If I want to use it, I open the box. All other times I keep it closed. You, too, have a box. Look down at your hands and let the box take shape.
Looking down, she realised she could see her hands. Holding them palm up, she thought box.
A slim, flat box appeared. It was old and plain, and a little dusty. It looked just like the one that held her mother’s necklace.
– Open it, Dakon bade her.
She undid the latch and lifted the lid. Inside was the necklace, glittering softly in the dim light. For some reason this filled her with disappointment. She looked up at him, confused.
– My mother’s necklace is my magic?
The magician frowned.
– I doubt it, he said slowly. More likely this box was recent in your thoughts. Put it behind you. Let’s try this again.
She did as he said, laying the box down on the invisible ground behind her. Straightening, she looked down at her hands again.
– Try to imagine a box worthy of magic. Your magic.
Magic was special. It was power and influence. And wealth. It was grand. A large box formed. The whole box was gold, glittering brightly. Its sides were thick and it was very heavy. She looked up at Dakon. He looked amused.
– Better. I don’t think either of us will mistake that for anything but a box of magic, he said. Now open it.
A thrill of expectation and trepidation ran through her as she unlatched the lid. What would she find inside? Power? Uncontrolled power, most likely. As the lid hinged up a dazzling white light assailed her eyes.