Hannah said, “Why not just let the teacher paint her?”
“He would not be able to put in the feelings and expression into the painting that I remember; not like me. It would just be a painting of a beautiful woman, but there would be no love shining out of her eyes. She wouldn’t direct her smile at you.”
“You can do all that?”
“We’ll see. But, yes.”
“How will you learn?”
“Books. Scrolls. Somewhere in one of my texts is the work of another mage who performed a similar spell, maybe he even painted the woman he loved. I’ll research until I find the scroll again, or at worst, I’ll teach myself.”
“Teach yourself magic?” Hannah asked, her eyes wide.
The Mage paused as if trying to think of the proper response. Then he spoke suddenly, as his mind seized the words. “Teach myself? Is that concept so odd to you, Hannah? Let me ask you a question for a change. Who taught you to make fire with your finger?”
“Nobody. It just happened.”
“Well, that’s a better answer than most could give. The point is, when something interesting just happens to a mage, the mage writes it down so other mages can learn from that experience. We’re great ones for putting things down on parchment in great detail. One mistake can completely change a spell. For instance, when I return to my apartment in the King’s Palace one of my first, and most important tasks is to record all that has happened on this trip, especially any new insights into magic. You will be a major part of that.”
“Because of those men who attacked us?”
“Not at all. A minor stroke of the quill will account for that. It is you that will fill page after page of my parchment. Imagine. An unknown daughter of a Master-mage, who can already create the most basic, but most important spell. Only a mage deals with the four basic earthly elements, and most deal with one better than the rest. Fire is most difficult and called the transformer. Do you understand what that means?”
“No.” Her answer sounded simple, bored, and held more than a touch of anger for an unknown reason. She wanted to learn, but he talked about things she didn’t understand.
“Fire transforms wood into ashes and heat. Fire transforms water into steam. Transforming is the basic process for all a mage does. We do not create or destroy, we change, or transform.”
“Like the handles of those weapons this morning. You didn’t destroy them. You changed them and made them hot, so they burned the hands of the men.”
“Exactly, okay, we’ll speak more of that later. But take two things away from this conversation, daughter. At least half the mages of the world cannot work with fire, no matter their age or skill. You are already more skilled than them. The second item is that no women can make fire. Not one. And to my extensive knowledge, there never has been a woman mage in all of history.”
He called me daughter. “Want me to lift my dress and show you I’m a girl?”
“No, I believe you are what you are. But for my edification, I’d like to verify what I saw at the banquet. Will you please make a small flame?”
Hannah found herself on her feet, growing angrier and confused, but he’d called her daughter. That single word brought her close to tears. He had admitted she was his daughter, and that made him her father. She raised her hand, and after making sure neither of the guards looked their way, she ignited a tiny flame on her index finger.
CHAPTER SIX
After looking at the finger that held the flame, Hannah raised her eyes to those of her father. Again she saw the resemblances, the nose, lips, and shape of his face. His hair was white as the first snow of the season, but she wondered what color it had been at her age. Had it been the color of straw?
The Mage held up a single finger and a flame five times as large as hers appeared; then he snuffed it. He asked, “Does your finger feel cold after?”
“Yes.”
“That’s because there are rules for magic. You take the heat from your finger and concentrate it on the tip to make a flame. But if you let the flame burn longer or higher, more heat is used until the finger is cold and dead, like frostbite. You could even lose a hand if you let it burn long enough. You see my point? Magic is not free, nor is magic in a sense. It’s simply a redirection of natural laws.”
“I understand part of what you said, but not all.”
“Then you’re far smarter than most of the dolts they send to me for instruction as mages. Are you tired after such a long day?”
“So much as happened. Yes.”
He pointed to the carriage and the blankets spread beneath it. Hannah had no sooner closed her eyes than the Mage shook her awake, his hand held over her mouth, so she didn’t scream.
“Quick, there are men coming. You must wake up,” he said, rushing his words and shaking her harder.
Hannah sat and wiped her eyes, climbing to her feet at the rear of the carriage where the two guards were listening to the Old Mage. He said to them, “Follow the road back to a place where the forest grows right up to the sides. I remember a place like that not too far behind us. Cut a trail into the underbrush wide enough for a horse, at least a dozen paces into the forest.”
Sir James said coldly, “A pole trap? Clothesline them?”
“Yes,” the Mage looked at the confused younger guard, “Cut a small tree and place it between two large trees at the height of a horse’s ears when it’s running. I want you to bring me at least two of the men. Alive.”
The older guard sensed the confusion within the younger guard. “Panicked horses will run down the dark path we’ll clear and under the horizontal tree. The riders will not see it, and won’t duck.”
“Ouch,” the younger one said, his hand going to his forehead as if an imaginary tree struck him there. “But why will the horses run down the path?”
The Mage dug into one of his leather trunks. “Because of these. Grape-fire, ever hear of them?”
Both the younger guard and Hannah shook their heads while Sir James smiled and nodded. “You’ll also make it rain?”
“Of course, so take your capes and hoods.” He poured tiny globes the size of grapes into their hands. “They react violently to water, so keep them in the leather bags until you intend to use them. Throw three head of the men, and three more behind. Then throw the last four across the road from the path you’ll cut to panic the horses. They’ll turn from the grape-fire and flee down your path.”
“I’ll explain it all,” Sir James said to the younger guard.
“What happens when they get wet?” Hannah asked.
The Old Mage said, “A simple chemical reaction with water, enhanced by a little magic. The grapes ignite and burn a bright yellow fire that spits out myriad yellow sparks for a few minutes, long enough to panic the horses and riders, although I will also let loose some screamers.”
Hannah said, “Screamers? That sounds scary.”
“Oh, they’re just some screams I’ve captured over the years from various dungeons. I’ll release them to help panic the horses and men.”
Hannah and the younger guard passed another look as if to see which would ask the question both wanted to ask. Hannah won. “You captured screams? How?”
“Magic, of course. I save them for when needed. Screams can be very effective if used right.” The Mage dug into the contents again. He said, “Twenty more men after us, huh? I suppose all carry coin again, so it’s another indication of great wealth in our enemy. I want to speak with the leader, if possible.”
“You’re going with them?” Hannah protested, suddenly understanding.