"Why?" Karal asked.
Sejanes rubbed the side of his nose. "I don't know if there is a reason. There is some speculation that this is partly a protection for them, and partly a protection against them. The ability to sense magic power might be blinded the first time a Channel was used by very powerful magic. And if you can sense something, you can use it, so it might be better for all of us that anyone who can handle power stronger than any Adept would even dream of touching cannot actually use that power himself."
Again, Karal nodded. If you went on the basic assumption that any Karsite would—which was that it was Vkandis who granted such abilities—such a system of checks and balances made complete sense. Vkandis would not have placed extraordinary power within the capacity of mere mortals without some curbs on the system.
The explanation might also simply be that the act of attempting to actually use that much power rather than just direct it could be fatal. If mages who were also Channels died before they could wed and bring forth children with the Gift, such a combination wouldn't last for long. Look what happened to those with mind-magic in Karse. They'd been gathered up and given to the Fires for generations, and as a result, just before Solaris took power, there were so few such "witches" and "demons" that there hadn't been more than four or five Fires a year, with a single victim apiece.
Sejanes looked down at his hands for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Think of a funnel; the wide end catches scattered drops of water or small pieces of matter, and focuses it down into a small, directed stream. That's what a Channel does, and roughly how a Channel does it. And because a Channel actually forces the power going through him to flow through a 'smaller space,' he increases the force of that flow and its 'speed," if you will. So what a Channel needs to work perfectly is someone to guide the power in, however wild it may be, and someone to direct it as it goes out again. Remember that directing something—much like shunting a stream a few degrees—is much easier than using it."
Karal nodded numbly as Sejanes continued.
"Magic is much like water, Karal, but it is far more versatile. It can be manipulated by force of will, by natural aptitude, by specialized devices, and by other ways. Water, essentially, can only get things 'wet,' if I may use a crude analogy. Magic, however, can get things wet, turn things to dust, set them ablaze, make them into stone, give them life, put them somewhere else, and so on. But magic in its wild forms works in very gradual and subtle ways. It is not until magic is manipulated by someone that it has 'quick' effects. Without mages, magic takes its natural course."
"Like a river," Karal offered. "And mages make water wheels and dams and bridges."
Sejanes leaned back, apparently impressed. "That," he said slowly, "is essentially it. Yes. That is what we do."
Karal bit at his lower lip and offered, "And what happened here, is that long ago there was an explosion in the magic that—scooped a hole out. And the water—I mean, the magic—is rushing back to fill the hole."
"Close," Sejanes nodded. "Very close. You are a bright young man, Karal. Now, back to just what you are. A Channel. For whatever reason, a Channel collects power that is brought 'to' him, and directs it in a more purely directed, less stormy fashion."
"That's all there is to it?" Karal exclaimed. "I am a funnel?"
Sejanes smiled. "That's all the theory," he chided gently. "But now comes the practice that will help you keep parts of yourself from interfering with or even fighting that stream of power. And it will be all the harder because you will be dealing with something you yourself can only sense dimly, like playing blind-man's bluff with an unruly stallion. And to continue that analogy, I'm not going to show you how to catch and ride the beast, because it will kill you if you try. Instead, I'm going to try to teach you how to keep 'yourself' out of its way."
At the end of the lesson, Karal was quite certain that Sejanes' analogy of a game with an angry horse was the correct one. The inside of his head felt bruised, somehow, though certainly not as bad as he had felt after the first time he'd acted as a Channel. The lesson was over when Sejanes clapped him on the back and told him that he had done very well for his first attempt.
"You aren't the worst Channel I've ever seen, and we tend to use them more than you Westerners do," the old mage said cheerfully. "I don't know if the ability occurs more often in the Empire or if we Imperial mages are so lazy that we'd rather use Channels than focus power ourselves, and so we make an active effort to look for the ability. But you aren't the worst, that's for certain, and you've come to the lessons late in your life, so that's encouraging."
:Faint praise, but better than none, I suppose,: Altra observed, wrapping himself around Karal's legs. :Natoli is waiting to talk to you.:
"I'm going to assume that since my lord Altra is here, that your young lady is ready to speak to you," Sejanes observed. "Go on, off with you. By the by, you'll toughen up as you practice; this should be the worst training session you'll ever endure."
:You'll notice he said training session,: Altra observed, as Karal got up from his stool and followed the Firecat. :That doesn't say anything about the real thing.:
That hadn't escaped Karal's attention, but he really didn't want to dwell on it, not when he was finally going to get to see and talk to Natoli.
Karal took his place on the empty stool in front of the teleson; Altra draped himself over Karal's feet, and the Herald in the crystal winked, and stepped away. A moment later, Natoli moved into the place he had vacated.
She looked as if she had recovered from the boiler explosion. Her hair was a little longer than it had been when he left, and she looked at him as if she had forgotten why she was there. Suddenly he felt very shy.
"Hello, Natoli," he said awkwardly. "You look in good health."
He winced as he listened to himself; was that any way to speak to a girl he really wanted to be able to kiss?
"You don't," she said bluntly, peering at him. "You're too pale, and too thin. What have you been doing to yourself?"
That was so very typical of her that he had to laugh, and relaxed immediately. "As to the first, we've been living underground, and we mostly don't get to see the sun. And as to the second—have you ever tasted Firesong's cooking?" He shuddered melodramatically, and she laughed in return. "Seriously. We're mostly eating as the Shin'a'in do; it's not that bad, just a little odd."
"And you don't often see a fat Shin'a'in," she said shrewdly. "Things were quiet until Altra showed up with this contraption. We Artificers all wanted to take it apart, of course, but when we were told that the first person to try would be skinned, we gave up on the idea." She grinned. "We'll have to make do with trying to duplicate it from those manuscripts. If we can, we'll send one by fast Herald-courier to Solaris, and then you'll get to talk to her on a regular basis."
"Must I?" he asked weakly. He was not ready to face Solaris just yet. He wasn't sure he would be for quite a while, actually. Her Radiance was not a comfortable person to speak to, face-to-face. For that matter, she wasn't a comfortable person to communicate with, letter to letter; he always had the feeling that he was reading something intended for an audience rather than a personal letter.