fighting with who,
and who was sleeping with who. Different names but the same old stories.
It was a relief
to know that there were some things that weren’t changing.
Chapter Ten
I watched the
log shatter into splinters, the black sphere with its jagged jolts of light
immediately fading away thereafter. A nasty spell adequately performed. Well
done.
I blew on my
hands and rubbed them. It was the middle of winter and everyone was finding it
cold, even me. My students resented my insistence on lessons continuing to be
held outside, but I thought flying shards of wood might be a bad idea indoors.
And if anyone didn’t like it, they could just not attend. No one took advantage
of that option. Which was a good thing, because I wasn’t sure I had the
authority to give it.
“Excellent work,
Tob.” He’d been having difficulty with that one.
It was a cast
I’d hated having to teach them. My first exposure to it had been witnessing it
murder people. A sphere of black air and lightning surrounded a person and
slowly killed them, leaving them writhing and screaming in pain. It was a
horrible, disgusting thing to do. Kent’s casters had devised the spell, and if
they had been able to create such a spell, it would be stupid to hope no one
else had, or would.
So Browne had
created a cast that could bring the same results – I have no idea if it was the
same as the cast Kent’s people had created – and had taught everyone in the
casting Circle how to perform it. Every single one of us had disliked learning
it. I felt filthy using it.
But I’d taught
it to the Triple S casters, using inanimate objects as targets. And inanimate
objects were all anyone would be using in my lessons. There had been many
suggestions to use animals, but I couldn’t. I knew I could be hampering – maybe
even endangering – the other casters by refusing. And maybe I was being hypocritical.
I ate meat, I knew animals died for that, so shouldn’t I be able to kill them,
too?
No, not like
that. I hoped the animals slaughtered for my supper weren’t tortured first. I
wouldn’t torture animals. I wouldn’t encourage others to torture animals. That
was it. That was one of my lines. Furniture was less delicate than flesh. If
the cast worked on wood and steel, it was logical to assume it would work on
living things.
The thing was, I
was running out of casts to teach. I’d passed on everything Browne had taught
me, everything I’d read in any book. I didn’t know what to do next.
“All right,” I
said. “We’re good for today.”
They were
surprised. “It’s early yet,” said Hep.
“It’s getting
colder.” The Shields in the group wouldn’t have begun feeling too uncomfortable
yet – Shields often failed to experience physical sensations as much as others
– but not everyone in the group was a Shield. It would be too uncomfortable
shortly.
And I was hoping
to run back to the library and dig up another spell or two.
“Murdoch, could
I talk to you for a few moments?”
Murdoch nodded
and, after everyone was out of earshot, I said, “I have no more casts to teach
them. Almost everyone is up to the same level.”
The numbers of
casters had swelled to over sixty. Every week brought in at least one new
caster, and I’d chosen to tutor them separately to avoid dragging the whole
class down to the barest, easiest casts. But they were now all as good as they
were going to get with my instruction. “Do you have any suggestions?
“We’ve exhausted
my knowledge of casts, too. Beyond that, I have no idea.”
Huh. Well, maybe
I should just admit it. If I had nothing more to teach, I shouldn’t waste
anyone’s time pretending I did.
Maybe they’d let
Taro and me go home. His students, most of them, were doing well with their own
lessons.
Except healing.
No one else seemed able to do that.
Murdoch looked
beyond me and frowned. “Now what is that about?”
I turned. A
staffer was trotting over, bearing correspondence.
and who was sleeping with who. Different names but the same old stories.
It was a relief
to know that there were some things that weren’t changing.
Chapter Ten
I watched the
log shatter into splinters, the black sphere with its jagged jolts of light
immediately fading away thereafter. A nasty spell adequately performed. Well
done.
I blew on my
hands and rubbed them. It was the middle of winter and everyone was finding it
cold, even me. My students resented my insistence on lessons continuing to be
held outside, but I thought flying shards of wood might be a bad idea indoors.
And if anyone didn’t like it, they could just not attend. No one took advantage
of that option. Which was a good thing, because I wasn’t sure I had the
authority to give it.
“Excellent work,
Tob.” He’d been having difficulty with that one.
It was a cast
I’d hated having to teach them. My first exposure to it had been witnessing it
murder people. A sphere of black air and lightning surrounded a person and
slowly killed them, leaving them writhing and screaming in pain. It was a
horrible, disgusting thing to do. Kent’s casters had devised the spell, and if
they had been able to create such a spell, it would be stupid to hope no one
else had, or would.
So Browne had
created a cast that could bring the same results – I have no idea if it was the
same as the cast Kent’s people had created – and had taught everyone in the
casting Circle how to perform it. Every single one of us had disliked learning
it. I felt filthy using it.
But I’d taught
it to the Triple S casters, using inanimate objects as targets. And inanimate
objects were all anyone would be using in my lessons. There had been many
suggestions to use animals, but I couldn’t. I knew I could be hampering – maybe
even endangering – the other casters by refusing. And maybe I was being hypocritical.
I ate meat, I knew animals died for that, so shouldn’t I be able to kill them,
too?
No, not like
that. I hoped the animals slaughtered for my supper weren’t tortured first. I
wouldn’t torture animals. I wouldn’t encourage others to torture animals. That
was it. That was one of my lines. Furniture was less delicate than flesh. If
the cast worked on wood and steel, it was logical to assume it would work on
living things.
The thing was, I
was running out of casts to teach. I’d passed on everything Browne had taught
me, everything I’d read in any book. I didn’t know what to do next.
“All right,” I
said. “We’re good for today.”
They were
surprised. “It’s early yet,” said Hep.
“It’s getting
colder.” The Shields in the group wouldn’t have begun feeling too uncomfortable
yet – Shields often failed to experience physical sensations as much as others
– but not everyone in the group was a Shield. It would be too uncomfortable
shortly.
And I was hoping
to run back to the library and dig up another spell or two.
“Murdoch, could
I talk to you for a few moments?”
Murdoch nodded
and, after everyone was out of earshot, I said, “I have no more casts to teach
them. Almost everyone is up to the same level.”
The numbers of
casters had swelled to over sixty. Every week brought in at least one new
caster, and I’d chosen to tutor them separately to avoid dragging the whole
class down to the barest, easiest casts. But they were now all as good as they
were going to get with my instruction. “Do you have any suggestions?
“We’ve exhausted
my knowledge of casts, too. Beyond that, I have no idea.”
Huh. Well, maybe
I should just admit it. If I had nothing more to teach, I shouldn’t waste
anyone’s time pretending I did.
Maybe they’d let
Taro and me go home. His students, most of them, were doing well with their own
lessons.
Except healing.
No one else seemed able to do that.
Murdoch looked
beyond me and frowned. “Now what is that about?”
I turned. A
staffer was trotting over, bearing correspondence.
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