Sara said, “What will the ring do?”
Maude held up her right hand. A purple glow circled her ring finger. “That was from when I first learned the spell. I think I was about your age, Sara.”
“And it still works?” Sara asked.
Maude said, “Look at it. The spell draws almost no energy. It does nothing but create a faint glow that only another sorceress can see. But the energy to sustain comes from the person, that is why the ring must be worn for a moment, and not cast into the air, like so many other spells.”
Prin said, “You’ve used this?”
“Any person, man or woman, with this purple glow on their right ring finger is to be trusted. I have used it on seven, and located an eighth, cast by another sorceress, by accident. A woman placed the enchanted ring on, so I trusted her, and was correct to do so.”
Sara said, “Maude, if your kind offer is still agreeable, we would love to have you teach us, but we have responsibilities to our ship. The captain and bos’n are expecting us, and we should notify them to hire others in our stead. But, Brice should sail with them. And take your ring.”
Prin said, “He will need instructions for the ring, directions for the mountain pass, and he needs to learn to shield his mind from other mages. Can all that be done in a month?”
Maude said, “A few days if we hurry, but we can all do better if we teach him what he needs, and then whatever else we can.”
“First, we must ask him if he will work with us,” Sara said. “If he’s captured, he’ll die. This is no game. He needs to make his own choice.”
Prin stood. “But not tonight. I cannot stay awake any longer.”
They all agreed to go to bed. After Maude had cleared the spell from Brice, they headed to their rooms, and Prin paused in the hallway again. The distance was an illusion, she now knew, but what would happen if she walked down there? If she kept walking? Would the stretch spell continue placing more distance in front of her? If so, did it pull distance from behind and put it there? If she went down there and turned around and looked behind, what would she see?
Prin fell asleep with those contrasting, conflicting, and confusing thoughts in her mind. Thinking back, she had always been inquisitive and wanted to know more. She had wished to learn at the morning kitchen, then at her father’s apartment, and also at Evelyn’s tree. For the first time, she might have her wish granted. A place to study and someone to teach her.
The word tree triggered another thought. Treeman. She needed a new Treeman if she was going to remain with Maude. Her skills with the throwing knife were better than most who wore them, she believed, but she never wanted to feel helpless again. Since Sir James was dead and couldn’t teach her, she would either teach herself or find another instructor. She liked that. A new Treeman and someone to teach her to fight.
Since escaping the assassins over the mountain pass, she had seldom felt safe. It had been one crisis after another. She finally had the opportunity to learn, study, be safe, and work out a set of plans for her immediate future, and after.
But her future included Brice and Sara—she just didn’t know if they knew it. She closed her eyes again, and for the first time since fleeing the tree in Evelyn’s forest, she slept soundly.
The slanting rays of the morning sun found her in bed, groggy and so rested and comfortable, she could go back to sleep. But instead, she climbed from the bed, the first real bed she had slept in since her mother’s death, and made her way to the main room.
There she found Maude and Brice already in deep conversation. A bowl of fruit sat beside them, and in another bowl, warm bread that felt fresh from the oven. There was no sign of Sara, but the cat she’d believe was from her ship approached. With the cat in her lap, she watched and listened.
Maude spoke tenderly, encouraging Brice to concentrate and relax, which sounded contradictory, at best. Prin looked at Brice’s head and expected to see the shimmer that had been there, but found far less, even on the tiny hairs growing out. Then, as if a flash, his entire head was enveloped in a green haze.
“That’s it,” Maude said, excitedly. “That’s the area you need to control. Now, make it larger. Good, good. Now shut it away.”
The green glow/shimmer faded but did not disappear. Brice closed his eyes and concentrated harder, but tiny green sparkles appeared.
Instead of being upset, Maude said, “Well, the good news is you’ve tapped into a different cortex, and now even the blind sorceress can find you on a dark night.”
“It’s hard,” Brice said.
“But necessary. And this is the first lesson, so don’t be discouraged. I’m impressed you managed to locate the cortex of your mind required. The rest will be easy. Now, I want you to eat, walk in the garden and breathe some fresh air, then come back, and we’ll try again. Do not think about what we’ve discussed. That is important. Do not think about it.”
“How am I going to do that? Or, not do it?”
Prin found herself laughing. Telling him not to think about something was much the same as telling him to think about it. Then she glanced at Maude and realized the mistake she’d just made. She shouldn’t have laughed. Brice stood and walked to the door, shaking his head in confusion.
After the door had closed, Maude turned to her and said, “Never do that again.”
“I thought it a joke.”
“I wanted him to review which parts of his mind did what, and by telling him not to think about it, I knew he would, and hopefully figure it out for himself. My methods for teaching are not always linear, nor will I try to make them. Each mind is different and must be handled in ways that fit it. Brice needs to know and understand a small portion of his abilities for his safety and to hide from others. For now, no more.”
“Why no more? I mean, I’ll do as you say, Maude, but I’m wondering.”
Maude relented, and her anger fled. “Another mage can see magic performed, and often for extended periods of time after the event. We cannot have Brice sailing all over the known world, creating spells and identifying himself to every mage and sorceress within sight. He must learn slowly, and conceal himself until we can locate a mentor.”
“I wish my father was alive. He was a great mage.”
“You said he left you things.”
“A full workshop. It’s supposed to be sealed until I return.”
Maude said, “But you brought some items with you.”
“Only a few,” Prin said. “Would you like to see them?”
“I would indeed. Objects owned by great mages always interest me, but what your father left may help me to teach you, or understand some of your needs and abilities.”
Prin climbed to her feet and ran to her room. Leather satchel in hand, she strode back into the main room and found Sara waiting beside Maude, who said, “I thought perhaps Sara should join us, but I have prohibited Brice from coming inside until we finish. I hope that is all right with you.”
Prin reached under her skirt and pulled the knife she wore and laid it on the table. Beside it, she placed a round glass bead, a thin leather-bound book so old the pages tried to fall out, and the tooth of an animal the size of her small finger, and the little piece of red parchment with the red ribbon tied around it. Inside blood red ink spelled out three lines of words, while the crude image of a flying bird decorated the bottom. Last, she removed the small painting of her mother and father.
Before placing it on the table, she looked at their expressions. They were smiling. No, beaming with joy. She caught Sara’s eye and hid her smile.