Death Comes To All (Book 1) (41 page)

"So
you're saying that my style is basically something I already have but
can't use?"

"Something
like that, as near as I can tell anyway. These stories weren't
written by the mages, but by other people sometime after. It could be
that these stories aren't as accurate as I hope they are, but it's
all we have to go on at the moment. Either way, I'm sure that this
new fighting style is going to be better for you than the one I
already taught you. I think you're going to take this farther than
I'll be able to teach you."

Wonderful.

"So
when am I supposed to start training in this new style you want me to
learn?"

"We
have a few days of work ahead of us before we can relax enough to
start training. We have all winter to train, longer even if we need
it. Gathering food, on the other hand, is on a tight schedule. Once
we're prepared for the coming winter there will be time to do other
things, including completing your training."

"Hopefully
that includes doing a bit of house cleaning," Raine added,
running a hand through a thick line of dust that coated the banister
on the stairway. "This place is a mess."

Raiste
laughed. "There will be plenty enough time for that as well.
However, that time will not be tonight. The two of you are tired. Go
on up to your rooms and get some sleep. I'm going to do a bit more
reading before I'm ready to turn in myself. Good night."

Without
waiting for a reply he headed back into the living room and the
waiting chronicle that had gained his attention. Raine stood,
stretched lithely, and headed up the stairs to her own room. Bane was
only a step or two behind her.

"Goodnight,"
he said simply to her as she disappeared through her doorway.

Her
head poked out from behind the darkness. "Sleep well, Bane,"
she returned, then disappeared once more.

Bane
continued on to his own room, closing the door behind him as he
entered. The coals that he had left in the fireplace to light his way
had already died away completely, and the moon had moved on in its
evening cycle. It no longer provided any light into his room.

He
nearly tripped over his gear, still on the floor at the foot of the
bed where he had left it. With a little bit of luck he managed to
stay on his feet, and made his way around to the bed.

He
briefly considered relighting the fire, but decided against it.
Though he would have been able to find his flint and steel easily
enough, he no longer needed light, and the night was warm enough that
he didn't need heat either.

Starting
a fire now would be a waste of good wood.

Instead
he lay back on the soft bed. While he wasn't used to such a soft
place to sleep, not even his bed at his parents farm had been so
soft, he felt quite comfortable. He crawled under the sheets, leaving
the heavier blanket folded at the bottom of the bed where he had put
it. In a matter of minutes, he was fast asleep.

Chapter
Thirteen

"Alright
now Drom, concentrate," Raiste said to the sorvinian man in
front of him. Like Raiste, Drom had decided to go back to his true
name while they were living in the Hut. He would only go back to the
name of Bane when they were out in the world again. Only Raine, who's
true name Drom didn't actually know, had continued to go by her
alias.

Drom
concentrated on the targets, nearly a dozen thick branches hanging
from one of the cypress trees outside of the building, with Ocean's
Hand held in front of him. Since they had finished gathering food,
Raiste had spent nearly every waking minute with Drom, trying to
unlock the secret to the young man's magic.

The
new fighting style that the man had worked out for him seemed to work
quite well. By the end of the first day, Drom was as good at it as
Raiste was, though the assassin had already told him that he hadn't
been very proficient at it to begin with. Raiste had been right when
he said that the constantly flowing style was a perfect match for
fighting with Ocean's Hand. It seemed completely natural to him. His
magic, however, continued to elude him, no matter how hard he tried.

The
three had spent the first week after arriving gathering food for the
coming winter. With Raiste's assistance Drom had gathered greens,
potatoes, several hundred pounds of wheat and other grains, and of
course plenty of oranges from the grove, as well as a variety of
other growing foods. Raiste had even shown him a large field covered
in wild sugar cane.

The
entire group enjoyed the cakes and cookies that Drom was able to bake
using the food he had gathered. Even Raine, who Drom had never seen
eat anything besides meat, seemed to enjoy the sweet treats.

Raine
had done just as well in her hunting, bringing in three deer and four
large hogs. She had gone out earlier that day to fish, which she
hadn't done any of during the week, and had not yet returned.

She
probably hasn’t gone far,
Drom knew. If they needed her for
anything, she would likely hear them calling.

Like
the several times before, nothing at all happened. There was no
blinding blue light, no strange distortion of time, no magic at all.
Still, he knew the techniques to his new fighting style perfectly, or
as perfectly as he could without a proper teacher in the form.

Why
isn’t this working?

At
Raiste's command to attack he stepped into the first swing, cut
through the first branch, carried the blade through in a continuous
arc, and neatly cut through three more in smooth, separate motions.
It wasn't nearly as fast or as powerful as it had been when the magic
had filled him, but it was still much faster than he had been when
using the style he had been before.

"Good.
Your speed is improving greatly," Raiste observed. "Your
footwork seemed a little tight just before the last strike, like you
wanted to do something else, but didn't. Was there something else you
wanted to do there?"

"I'm
not sure really. It felt like my body wanted to twist there. I don't
know what I was supposed to do. Spin maybe, or twist the blade into a
thrust. It's like having a word on the tip of your tongue, and not
being able to figure out what you wanted to say."

It’s
annoying as hell!

"That
could be your magic, trying to come out," Raiste said
thoughtfully. "Like I said before, once your magic is working
you will develop a natural technique that’s entirely your own.
I can only teach you what I know about fighting styles that are
similar. Did it feel to you like your magic was coming out?"

"Not
so much as a twitch," Drom answered, exasperated. He knew that
the assassin was feeling much the same way, though the man would
never say it. "I've been trying the same thing over and over
again, and I don't feel any closer to bringing out my magic. If it
hadn't come out once already, I wouldn't believe that I really had it
at all. Are you certain that no one else could have cast something on
me? I know you said that it wasn't possible, but it also shouldn't be
possible for a sorvinian, even one who's half human, to have magic as
strong as what we think I should have. Shouldn't we have figured out
how to get my magic to work by now, if it really is my magic I mean?"

"I
don't have those answers for you, Drom. I can say that I'm certain
that it is your magic. The fact that you can learn this form so
quickly, so naturally, would tell me that much, even if I hadn’t
already been certain before, which I was. I don't know why we can't
bring out your full power again. There has to be something, some
trigger, that we're missing. And before you ask, yes, I'm very
certain that it's not the extreme situation that we were in that is
needed."

"Well,
what else could it be? We've been working on it non-stop, and we
don't seem to be any closer to it than we were when we started."

"I
wish I knew," Raiste admitted. "I just don't know enough
about this type of magic. Some types of magic have a catalyst, a word
or a gesture that helps the mage's mind focus on what he's trying to
accomplish, and allows him to cast the spell easier. However, I've
never read anything that makes me think that your type of magic would
need anything like that."

"What
do you mean?"

"It
doesn't matter. You never said anything before your magic enveloped
you, and I didn't see you gesture anything either. I don't think your
magic works that way."

"Just
humor me," Drom told him.

"Well,
do you remember when Sloan cast that fireball at you?" Drom
nodded. "When he did, he used a short phrase to help focus the
spell."

"I
sort of remember him saying something, but I don't know what it was
he said," Drom recalled.

"That's
the sort of thing I mean by a catalyst," Raiste said. "I
don't know what words he used either, but I know what they were for.
There are several types of magic that use such words or phrases.
Others, like I was just saying a minute ago, use small gestures to
cast the spell. There are even those that use both. Not all magic
needs something to focus it. Some magic that does use a catalyst
doesn’t even need it, it simply makes it a little easier for
the mage to concentrate. As far as I can tell, yours doesn't need
anything at all. Why? You didn't say anything or make any sort of
gesture before you used your magic, did you?"

"No.
I mean, I didn't say or do anything, but I remember thinking about
something that my mother said."

"You
never mentioned that before," Raiste scolded. "I told you
to tell me everything. You shouldn't have left anything out."

"Sorry,"
Drom said apologetically. "I didn't even remember it until just
now. Like I said, it wasn't something I did or said. You don't think
it is important, do you?"

"It
could be," Raiste answered thoughtfully. "What exactly was
the memory you had?"

"It
wasn't like a memory really. It was more like I could hear her voice.
Only it was distorted, like she was far away or I was hearing it
underwater. It was the same thing I told you about when I named
Ocean's Hand."

"You
mean the thing about mountains toppling and such? And you heard it in
your mother's voice?"

"Yes,
that's it exactly. I mean, I know it was all in my mind, but it
sounded like her voice."

"That
might actually be your catalyst," Raiste murmured, his voice so
low that Drom wasn't certain if he was talking to him or simply
thinking out loud. Suddenly coming to a decision, he raised his voice
to a normal level. "Alright, let's try this again. This time,
try to think of those same words that came to your mind that day.
Bring them back to your mind as best you can. Focus on the targets
like you have been, only bring those words in your mind as well. Say
them to yourself in your mind, like a mantra."

Raiste
tied new branches to the ropes, replacing the old ones. "Whenever
you're ready," he said once he had finished.

Drom
concentrated, this time bringing to mind the words he had remembered
that day. At first, the words repeated in his mind came in his own
voice, but after the first few words the sound changed. Once again he
heard his mother's voice, in the same hollow, reverberating sound he
had heard once before.

Even
the greatest of kings must bow before the awesome weight of the
ocean. Mountains have toppled and entire civilizations lost with only
one wave of the ocean's mighty hand.

All
around him the wind began to howl. The trees bent under the power
pushing against them, nearly buckling them. Some of the branches, the
weaker, smaller limbs along the tops, broke off altogether, only to
be carried out of sight by the mighty gale. As before, a bright,
almost blinding blue light surrounded Drom, and ran down the length
of Ocean's Hand as well. Drom could feel the energy filling him,
binding with the very fabric of his being.

With
a single swing he stuck at the hanging targets, slicing through four
of them neatly. With a slight twist he spun around entirely, allowing
the blade to continue on its path, and bringing it in line for a
second strike, which sliced through six more. With a small step and a
slight motion, the blade came down a third time, and the remaining
branches toppled slowly to the ground.

"Oh
my," Raine voiced softly from the side of the building. The
magical light winked out of existence as both men turned at the sound
of her voice. They hadn't expected her return so soon.

"Raine!"
Raiste said in surprise. "I didn't know you were standing
there."

"I
was just fishing out back when this crazy wind came up from out of
nowhere," she explained. "It seemed to be coming from here,
so I came over to see what was going on. I take it that was the magic
that the two of you have been trying to unlock? Now I see what you
were talking about, and honestly I'm still not sure if I can believe
what I just saw. I've never seen anyone move that fast before. Not
even you Raiste."

Really?
How fast was I moving? It didn’t seem like I was moving any
faster than normal.