Analindë (The Chronicles of Lóresse) (21 page)

“I came as soon as you called me,” Master Therin’s voice sounded from the other room.

“I don’t know what happened. Analindë fell asleep on the couch; then somehow she made it through my shield without me sensing it. I only noticed when the Energy started rushing in.”

By the time both Andulmaion and Master Therin had reached Analindë’s room, she had stood up and brushed the wrinkles from her skirts. Her hands shook. Anxious, she fiddled with the ring on her finger. “Master Therin?” she said.

“Analindë?” He stared at her in surprise.

Andulmaion’s voice was respectful but tense. “Do you see her source? It is enormous; she fairly radiates strength and power. I thought at first the stream of Energy meant to attack her.”

Master Therin stared intently at her. His eyes watered, “Analindë.”

She stood mutely, swinging her gaze between Master Therin, who probably understood what had happened, and Andulmaion, who did not. Anguish swamped her; she hoped that Andulmaion would see the plea for forgiveness in her eyes. She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

“I don’t understand,” Andulmaion said. Confusion tinged his voice; his posture had softened.

“You will in time,” Master Therin replied. “In time.” Master Therin turned to Andulmaion, firmly grasping his arm. “Right now we must teach her how to shield and mask her source. No one must know of her strength.”

“Yes, of course.” Andulmaion moved back respectfully to stand near the door, his face shuttered and impassive.

“Come, let us move to the workshop.” Analindë trailed behind the two men as they passed through the sitting room into the library and then entered the apprentice’s workshop.

Wide-eyed, she glanced around the room; she’d only been in the workshop a handful of times. It was unlike any other room in the tower since it lacked intricate design work. It reminded her ever so slightly of the simple room tucked deep beneath Mirëdell.

The workshop did not have any windows and was circular in shape. Senses heightened from recent encounters. Analindë felt the lingering echoes of intent swirling within the walls; the meaning and words had just begun to take shape in her mind when Master Therin looked at her with an upraised eyebrow as if to say “Excuse me, you’re being rude”. Analindë quickly focused her attention elsewhere.

“Let us sit here.” Master Therin gestured to a small table and chairs off to one side of the room. Cluttered shelves and a counter were nearby. “First we will go over the basics of shielding. Analindë, you’ve demonstrated that you can construct excellent shields; unfortunately, you form them from instinct. In the coming days, we will teach you from the beginning as if you had never cast a shield before.”

Analindë began to say that they didn’t need to start at the beginning, when Andulmaion, who must have read her face, cut her off, saying, “It would haunt us if some basic principal of shielding became your undoing. Your newfound strength changes everything. We need to skip ahead to make sure you’re adequately protected.” He looked gravely at her, his eyes narrowed. “And later you may tell me how you made it through my shield without my notice.”

“You can notice when–”

“I can.”

The Fifteenth Chapter

M
aster Therin, Andulmaion, and Analindë
began with the basics. They spent a significant amount of time reviewing the concepts of grounding and centering, then Master Therin lectured her at length as to the patterns and purposes of different types of shields and how to make sure her shields were formed correctly and would not drop until told to do so.

They made sure she understood that most shields were meant to be deployed only temporarily and that more permanent shields always needed an external power source. They advised her of shields they’d teach her in the future, such as barriers to use when the frost came too early for a crop or to keep the rain off your head and clothes as you ran from building to building during a rainstorm. They told her about shields to use in battle, of how a shield could explode if not properly formed and linked. In short, they told her of the many different shields that she would learn to build over the coming years, and warned her of the associated dangers that she’d been lucky to escape so far.

Most important, they taught her how to hide her source from others. Master Therin was insistent that she learn to do this immediately, so he and Andulmaion worked on creating an illusionary mask to hide her power. The two of them wouldn’t let her assist as they wove the mask for her, so she sat quietly, watchful of what they did, how they spun the power from themselves, and the techniques they used to densely weave the power together to create an illusion of a much less powerful mage.

Once they’d finished weaving they fastened it to her. She paid particular attention as it sank into her body, watching how they bound the mask to cover her source. They were only beginning the process; she would need to finish binding it to herself. They told her this mask was a rare exception to the permanent shield rule and that she should link it to herself to keep it functioning, so she did.

That evening after a late dinner, Master Therin and Andulmaion were helping Analindë practice the anchoring technique on her mask when Andulmaion jumped to his feet, swiveling around to face the door.

“Someone is here.”

Master Therin paused for a moment, “It is for me. Continue practicing with Analindë. Teach her the secondary illusionary shield that will completely hide her mage abilities, not just mask them. I will be back later.”

Analindë settled back into her chair as Andulmaion sat back down. “Let’s see,” he spoke as he leaned forward. “It looks like your mask has slipped a little bit. Can you tug it back into place?”

Analindë twitched the thick mask back in place, then looked to Andulmaion for approval.

“Good, you’ll need to pay close attention to your mask for the next few years. Sources don’t like to be covered as they naturally resist. So you’ll need to regularly check and recheck that the mask is covering all of your power. Now then, the second shield is like the illusions I taught you a few days ago. We’ll cover the details in a moment, but first, do you mind if we take a short break?”

“No, I don’t mind.” Andulmaion darted out of the room and she wondered where he might be off to. As his absence stretched long, she wandered out of the workshop and into the library. She heard voices from the next room over and so she leaned past the doorway to catch a peek at their guest. People so rarely came to visit.

Master Therin and his visitor were ensconced in a darkened alcove. A shadowy back and a blackened silhouette were all that she could see.

“You will be fine.” Analindë did not recognize the hushed voice.

“But having two students with such advanced powers at the same time is causing difficulty. When they’re together I can’t maintain my hold on them at all. When they’re alone I can only just manage it. Perhaps I’m becoming weaker.”

Analindë stepped away from the door, confused and embarrassed. It was clearly a private conversation that she’d not been meant to overhear. She quickly walked back into the workshop and sat down to keep herself from overhearing anything further. A short while later Andulmaion returned.

“Now switch to magesight and watch.” Andulmaion sent a swath of Energy to cover himself. He tweaked it somehow, sending a pattern spiraling out into the Energy; within moments Analindë could no longer see his power at all. He looked like a normal elven man with no mage abilities whatsoever.

“Oh, my,” Analindë gaped.

“You must be careful to match the shield to your masquerade. For example, if I’m pretending to be one of the Sea Elves, then what would you expect to see?”

“Some sort of power over water; I sense none of that in you.”

“Good, and now?” Andulmaion shifted the pattern; she felt power ripple out, going from a blank slate of nothing to project a sense of earth and rock.

“You are a Stone Master.” The pattern shifted again. “Now a Scout, an Archer, a Master Baker.” Analindë laughed, “Now you are the most powerful Elven Mage I have ever seen!”

“What lesson do you learn from this?”

“Beware of what I sense, it may be an illusion.” Analindë frowned. “There must be some way that one can know the truth? “

“There is, if you look here or there along the edge.” He drew his fingers down along one edge of the illusionary shield. “See how the pattern shifts just slightly? A truly expert mage will be able to hide even that much; ask Master Therin to show you his shield. I doubt even the other high mages would be able to see the difference between himself and the shield. The mask you’ve already learned also has edges, but they’re easier to blend.”

“And can Human wizards do this?”

“Yes, but they do not usually live long enough to learn to feather the edges.”

Analindë nodded, “Good, now teach me how.”

“I will, but first you need to fix your mask. It has slipped.” She grimaced and corrected the mask.

Analindë had to fix her mask twice more by the time Andulmaion had finished explaining how to make the illusionary shield. It took her half of an hour to successfully set the new shield, and then it had crisp clear edges that stood out glaringly. She groaned and Andulmaion laughed when she finally had it in place.

“Good enough, now release it, check your mask, tell me your favorite color, and set the shield again,” said Andulmaion. She released the shield of illusion.

“My favorite color?”

“To give you a distraction; something to think about other than the shield you just learned.”

“Oh, it’s blue. A dark rich blue the color of the night sky after the sun has set,” Analindë said before resetting her mask. It looked pretty good, but she strengthened it a little more. It was showing a bit too much of her power. She wanted to look like a young schoolgirl just coming into her powers, not one who not only had power, but had it in vast quantities. She wondered at the illusion that they’d woven for her. How accurate was it to others just new into their powers? Once she was allowed out of the tower once more, maybe she could begin studying other people’s masks—if they had them—to look for discrepancies. Perhaps that was another way to know the difference between what was real and what was false. She wondered absently if it was considered rude to peer inside to look at the capabilities of other people. Analindë’s attention jerked back to the task at hand when Andulmaion spoke.

“Very nice work on the mask. Now, set the illusionary shield.” Andulmaion sat back to study her.

Analindë formed the shield in half the time it took her the last time, which unfortunately still amounted to quite a bit of time, but she was pleased nonetheless. Andulmaion was frowning when she looked up. “What’s wrong?”

“I was just wondering about the source you used to get your power. It would please me if you told me where you found it.”

She flushed and looked anywhere but at his eyes. She felt the cold from the stone floor seeping into the soles of her feet. Her toes were freezing. She mumbled, wondering why she hadn’t noticed the cold before now. “I am sorry, I can’t. I promised not to tell.” She looked up; Andulmaion’s frown deepened, the stars in his eyes shot violently. Her eyes began to water. She felt horrible, like she’d betrayed him. He’d done so much to help her.

“Truly, I am sorry.” His eyes raced across her face, searching. A court mask descended over his features, the stars in his eyes stilled. He nodded.

Retreating from the subject at hand, Andulmaion pointed, “Look, your shield is weak here and here. Reinforce it like this.” He demonstrated by forming a shield of his own. “You must take care next time to form it evenly.”

His voice was steady, but it echoed oddly in the room. She hadn’t noticed before, but she now felt isolated in the workshop. The cozy intimacy they’d been sharing had fled. Unsettled, she wished she could have told him about the source, but even that brief thought left her feeling uncomfortable. Earlier, when she’d chosen to not try to tell him, the tight spot inside her chest—where the vow she’d made had latched on—had relaxed. With her continued silence on the matter, it did so again. She’d made the right decision.

To break the silence, she said, “As it pleases you Andulmaion.” She dissolved her shield, checked her mask, and set the illusionary shield again, this time making sure to evenly expand it to cover her mage abilities. It was much more difficult than forming a spherical shield; this type was minute and complex. Each pathway had to be hidden, and the shield had to expand accordingly. The greater the area that was hidden, the more realistic her illusion had to be.

“Good, now try to blend in the edges,” he said. And so she tried.

Quite a bit later, Analindë was relieved when Master Therin came back into the room. She had not made very much headway into feathering the edges of the shield. It was difficult work and conversation with Andulmaion had become stilted ever since he’d asked about Mirëdell’s Source. Analindë sighed and looked up at Master Therin.

“Good,” he smiled at her, “Very good progress Analindë; you may dissolve the second shield, but keep the mask up. A very old friend of mine has come to visit. He would very much like to meet you both.”

They followed Master Therin into the main room. Analindë was surprised to see a well-dressed Master Donarion sitting in one of the armchairs near the fire. Not knowing if she should claim acquaintance, she wiped the surprise off her face and kept her expression a friendly neutral as they approached.

“Donarion, I would like to present my two apprentices. Andulmaion, of the Mages of Olórindil, who is preparing to start his
tuvalië
. And Analindë, of the Mages of Lindënolwë, who has within the past few years come to study here.”

“Andulmaion and Analindë, may I make known to you Master Donarion, who is the Master of the High Council of Stone Masters here at Mirëdell. Every now and then he comes to check on me and my tower to make sure we are both still standing.” Master Therin chuckled at his joke and gestured formally to his colleague.

Both apprentices bowed low in greeting as Master Therin sat down in the chair opposite Master Donarion. Analindë noticed with an internal cringe that the only seats left were on the small couch. Andulmaion, gentleman that he was, waited for her to settle before taking the seat next to her. There they sat in uncompanionable silence while Master Therin poured tea.