Hephistole looked out through the window into the distance. “I’ve been uncertain about that too, but it’s important that you are battle-trained, and competing in the Measure will help with that. This is not the kind of combat you are used to in practice. It will be a no-holds-barred, out-and-out brawl, a true test of magical and physical ability. I want you to win it Gaspi, and learn every trick in the book from your opponents. Your fellow entrants are being told the same thing. If we need you back here, I can send a messenger with one of the four transporters to let you know, and you can come back here in an instant. If for any other reason you needed to leave Arkright, Voltan will be there to make that decision.”
“Fair enough,” Gaspi said. After all the practice he and Taurnil had put in, he really wanted to compete, and what Hephistole said made sense anyway – if they had to get back to Helioport urgently they could do so in a moment with the new transporters.
“So make the most of your last two weeks of training,” Hephistole said. “We’ll transport you to Arkright the day before the tournament starts. Just come up here
at the turning of day watch and we’ll send all the competitors at once.”
“Just the competitors?” Gaspi asked, chagrined. “I’ve always thought Emmy and Lydia would be there.”
“Sorry Gaspi, just the competitors,” Hephistole said. “This is a calculated risk, and it seems unnecessary to expose more people to that than we have to.”
Gaspi grimaced. The girls were not going to take this very well at all. “They won’t like that,” he mumbled.
“Then you’d best tell them as soon as possible,” Hephistole said with a sympathetic smile.
“I suppose,” Gaspi said, starting to rise from his chair. “Are we done here then?” he asked as an afterthought, pausing half-way up.
“Yes that’s all for today I think,” Hephistole said, and Gaspi stood all the way up. “Good luck,” he said as Gaspi headed for the transporter.
“Thanks,” he said dryly. “See you later,” he added, and with that he stepped on the transporter. He turned back to face the chancellor, but Hephistole had already pulled several sheets of parchment back across the desk and was leafing through them intently. “Atrium,” he said, and the chancellor’s study disappeared from his sight.
…
“What do you mean we can’t come?” Emea asked furiously, hands on her hips. Lilly sat up in her lap and chattered at Gaspi angrily. He winced at Emea’s tone. This was definitely not going to be an easy conversation. He’d found them with Rimulth in Lydia’s room, and neither girl looked pleased at the news.
“Hephistole said…”
“I don’t care what Hephistole said,” Emea snapped so vehemently that Loreill jumped in shock, shooting down from his usual place on Gaspi’s shoulders and running under the bed. “I’m not letting you go off to fight without me there to heal your wounds.” He was about to object but stopped in his tracks as what Emea had said hit home.
“I’m not staying here either!” Lydia said with equal ferocity. The fire spirit uncurled from where it lay in the corner of the room and rose into the air with three noisy flaps of its wings. It hovered three feet above the ground, smoke curling from its nostrils as it regarded him with coal-bright eyes.
“I don’t know what Hephistole thinks he’s doing but it’s a bad idea,” she added with feeling.
“I don’t want to be left behind either,” Rimulth said, and just then, there was a loud tapping noise at the window. It was the air spirit, pecking at the glass, wanting to be let in. Rimulth got up and opened the window, and the spirit flew to his shoulder, its attention riveted to Gaspi as it found its balance.
“Hold on, hold on,” Gaspi said, raising a hand, looking at the two furious girls,
the determined tribesman, the fierce looking hawk, the flapping dragon and an angry Lilly, standing on her hind legs and chittering at him in a continual stream of irritated noise. “That’s a good point Emmy. We’ll definitely need a healer.” Lydia looked so angry that he half-expected smoke to start streaming from her nostrils too! “And you of course Lydia, because, er…” he was desperately trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make her even more angry.
“I’m coming,” she said flatly, and Gaspi didn’t think that even Hephistole could stop her. When Lydia had made her mind up she was a force of nature.
“Me too,” Rimulth said firmly.
“Okay,” he said, “you’re coming, but only if you can persuade Hephistole. Come on!” He turned and walked out of the door.
“What, right now?” Emea asked, sounding much less certain.
“Right now,” Gaspi answered without even slowing, and they followed him along the corridor towards the transporters, trailed by their elemental companions. Loreill joined the other spirits, conferring noisily with them as they went. They transported down to the atrium and asked Dorys to let Hephistole know they wanted to see him. He waited impatiently while she wrote their names down on a piece of parchment and placed it in the enchanted box. When the lid popped open and they were given permission, he marched them over to the transporter and whisked them up to the Observatory.
As soon as they arrived, he stepped off to the side and ushered them forward. It was much more likely that they, with their obvious passion, would be able to persuade the chancellor of the importance of their presence at the Measure.
Hephistole shot him a glance of mild reproach and then gave his attention to Rimulth and the two girls. “Good day to you,” he said graciously. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“We want to go to the Measure,” Emea blurted, surprising Gaspi. He’d expected her to let Lydia do the talking.
“I’m really sorry,” Hephistole said with a sigh, clearly unhappy at having to upset them any further. “I already explained to Gaspi that we can’t put you at any more risk than is absolutely necessary. There’s just no reason for you to go.”
“There
is
a
reason!” Emea insisted.
“Which is?” Hephistole asked, raising an eyebrow.
“They’ll need a healer in case they get injured!”
“Ah I see,” Hephistole responded. “I must apologise. The miscommunication is my fault. I didn’t think to mention this to Gaspi but there will be a team of fully trained healers at the Measure. Rest assured, your friends will be well looked after.”
“Oh!” Emea said, chagrined by the news. “But…” she began, but didn’t seem able to finish the sentence.
“There’s another reason,” Lydia said from behind her, stepping forward to stand next to her friend. Rimulth stepped forward too, taking his place on her other side.
“Oh? Please go on,” Hephistole enquired, placing the tips of his fingers together and looking at Lydia with what appeared to be infinite patience.
“We are all meant to be in this together,” she said. “It’s obvious if you think about it. Martha, the seer in Emea’s village, saw it from the very beginning. Gaspi, Emea and Taurnil are a team, three sides of a triangle, and I don’t think it’s wise to question wisdom received by magic.”
Hephistole buried his chin deep into his robes as he thought about what she was saying.
“Not only that, but the fire spirit chose me and the air spirit chose Rimulth; I don’t think you should be splitting any of us up if it can be helped.” Her voice was gaining in strength and conviction by the moment. “I don’t know how I know this but I just know it. The five of us are meant to be together come what may, or everything we’re trying to do will come to nothing.”
Silence hung heavily in the air following Lydia’s pronouncement. The hairs on the back of Gaspi’s neck stood on end, prickling with some unknown energy. Emea stared at her friend in amazement as Lilly left her side and lay down on Lydia’s feet. Loreill scampered across the room to join Lilly, the air spirit hopped onto her shoulder, and the fire spirit flapped lazily to her side. Hephistole stared in wonder at the four spirits, pinning him in place with their unblinking gaze; green, blue, storm grey and burning amber.
He looked back at Lydia, and his shoulders finally slumped in defeat. “There is no way in the world I am going to ignore so clear a message,” he said. “You are quite right Lydia. I was trying to protect you, but I’m not foolish enough to question the combined wisdom of a gifted seer and four immortal spirits, however mysterious the source of their knowledge. You may accompany Gaspi and Taurnil to the Measure.”
“That’s great,” Emmy said enthusiastically, giving Lydia a hug, and then hugging Rimulth too.
“Thanks Heppy,” Gaspi said, relieved that they were all in agreement.
“No, thank you! Especially you Lydia,” he said. “I don’t often get such startling surprises, and it’s nice to be wrong sometimes.”
“Eh?” Gaspi said.
“Humility is good for the soul!” he said, grinning from ear to ear.
“If you say so,” Gaspi said, smiling. Heppy was a bit weird sometimes, but in a very likeable way.
“Good day to you all,” the chancellor called after them as they stepped onto the transporter.
“See you,” Gaspi said cheerfully, looking around to check that everyone was safely
on board. “Atrium!” he said, and they transported out of the Observatory.
…
“That was brilliant Lydia,” Emmy said as they left the Atrium. “Does that mean your sight is working again?”
“I think so,” Lydia said, practically glowing with satisfaction. “Rimulth you were right! It was just biding its time, waiting for the right moment.”
“Looks that way,” Rimulth said, smiling in quiet satisfaction.
Gaspi watched the exaggerated strut Lydia adopted, one that made her hips and her hair sway from side to side as she walked, and thought that he’d never seen her looking so much like a gypsy as she did in that moment.
“I’m going to see Taurnil,” she said, and if anything her gait grew more exaggerated as she walked. “I’ll see you later,” she called back without looking, and strutted off through the campus, the fire spirit flapping along lazily behind her.
“I’ve going to find Talmo,” Rimulth said. “He’ll want to know what’s going on.”
“Okay, see you later,” Gaspi said as the tribesman walked away, the air spirit still perched on his shoulder.
Emmy sidled up to Gaspi, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. Gaspi put his arm around her and she snuggled in under it.
“I’m so glad we’re all going,” she said.
“Me too.”
“I’d have hated being apart from you again,” she murmured.
“Me too!”
Emmy punched him playfully in the side. “Is that all you’re going to do? Just agree with what I say?”
“Yes,” Gaspi responded with a straight face.
“That’s very lazy you know!” she said pulling away from him. “You should have some thoughts of your own!”
“I agree.”
“You’re infuriating!” she said in mock irritation.
“Yes I am,” he said.
She looked cross for a moment before bursting out laughing. “This is a stupid game. Let’s do something fun.”
“Like what? Go get some food?” he asked.
“You’re as bad as Taurnil!”
Ferast summoned a mind shield, deflecting the pain strike Sestin threw at him. The very first time Sestin had used it against him, he’d curled into a ball, twitching in torment as his master tortured his vulnerable mind. After exposing him to brain-peeling agony for what seemed to be an unnecessary length of time, Sestin had released him from the spell and explained how a pain strike worked. It was a complex neuromantic spell designed to make the target think and feel they were in pain. No injury was actually done to them but because they were convinced they were in agony, it became a reality. It was a hard and unforgiving compulsion that left the target writhing in unbelievable pain.
Sestin also taught him how to defend against such a strike, but the defence was as complicated as the attack. He had to create a counter compulsion, a sense of certainty that he was
not
in pain. It was similar to the technique Emelda had once taught him to use on injured animals while tending to their wounds, except this time he had to cast it on himself. When the attack came, the conviction that he was
not
in pain needed to be stronger than the suggestion that he
was
.
The problem was that Sestin was very convincing, and the first few times he’d tried to create a mind shield, Sestin had smashed through his meagre defences, leaving him subject to his not-so-tender mercies. Even when he began to turn the strikes aside, he suspected that Sestin could easily have overpowered him if he wanted to. It would have been disheartening if not for the fact that they didn’t teach this kind of attack at the college, and the pain strike would be a formidable weapon at his disposal that his enemies wouldn’t have any defence against.
In that moment, however, all that he could think about was the need to defend himself. Knowing that the pain was illusory didn’t make it any easier to endure, and just thinking about what he would feel if he failed to summon an adequate defence himself made him break out in a sweat. He deflected another strike, putting all his strength into the counter-illusion, and the suggestion of unbearable suffering shattered against his shield. He ducked behind a pillar, relieved that he’d avoided another dose of agony. Breathing heavily, he looked from side to side, trying to get a glimpse of where Sestin might be approaching from. His heart beat fast and hard in his chest, his pulse throbbing in his ears as he tried to calm his laboured breathing.