Analindë (The Chronicles of Lóresse) (46 page)

The Twenty-Sixth Chapter

A
ndulmaion was waiting for her
when she reached the tower room. “Sorry for being late. I lost track of time.”

“That’s fine. I just arrived myself. Did you learn anything interesting today in class?” he asked. He still wore the reserved air from this morning, but at least he was meeting her eyes.

“Oh I–,” she briefly contemplated telling him how she had spent her morning, then stopped. Remembering Master Therin’s dictate, she decided it wasn’t the right time to try to enlist his aid. He took honor and responsibility seriously, as he should, and she didn’t want to place him in a compromising position. “Maliel and Pedar said that the High Lady’s Court sent a delegation to visit the Humans.”

“Really? Hmmm, that will certainly get the gossip stirred up,” he replied.

“From what I heard it already has.”

He fiddled with some of the papers near him, then looked up at her again. The stars in his eyes were earnest, they made her uncomfortable. “Analindë, do you think you’re up for practice today? I think it might be a good idea if we postpone today’s practice session so that you might have more time to regain your strength. What do you think?”

She hesitated, not knowing what to say. She’d love to go hole-up in her room to practice scrying. But if she did that, then Master Therin might think she was too weak to leave the tower at all. “I’m up for practice.”

“Are you sure?” He looked doubtful.

“I’m not fully recovered, if that’s what you’re asking.” The tower stairs had winded her on the way up. “But it will be good to practice. I’ve heard that it builds endurance to keep up with routine.”

“Okay, but you’ll let me know if you tire?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then let us begin.”

He headed into the workroom. She sighed and trailed along after him. Even before the doors were shut and completely warded from the inside, Analindë felt Andulmaion pull his Energy to himself, preparing to strike. She quickly threw up a shield in time to meet the swat he flung at her. He changed the spell and it began to eat through her shields, like acid etching glass. And so it went, one attack after another, continually moving from one weave or shield to the next, not pausing for even a moment to refresh themselves.

Her reactions were off, and most times she felt slow, not being able to completely form her shields before his attacks reached her. Yet she kept him at bay, but barely.

By the time Andulmaion called an end to their sparring she was doubled over, panting, and sweat drenched her clothes and hair.

“You’re doing well.”

“I had good reason to try hard; I didn’t want to get hit,” she wheezed out.

“It wouldn’t have been
that
bad. I was going to go easy on you this time if I got through.”

“Sure, sure.” Exhausted, Analindë sank down to the stone floor, reveling in the radiant icy solidness against her hot muscles as she waited to catch her breath.

“Can we stop for the day?” She didn’t think that she could continue at the moment.

“Yes, that’s probably a good idea.”

She swiveled to face him as he sat down on the bench along the far wall, “How’s your new spell going? Have you named it yet?”

“No, I haven’t named it. Progress goes about the same. I can control it up to a certain point, but there comes a moment that I just can’t manage to cross when I lose control.” He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back, relaxed. “The spell has the capacity to drain vast amounts of Energy, and I discovered this morning that it drains both the physical and non-physical energies in an item. It could drain the last little bit of Energy from you and barely leave you alive to tell the tale. It is not a spell that can be rushed.”

“Have you tried shielding from it?”

“It eats through shields very quickly. Faster than even you could put them up I think.”

Her mind raced ahead to the coming days; she knew that Master Therin and Andulmaion would be called upon to confront the Humans, and she had every intention of going with them. She just had to figure out how to make herself useful. “How does the spell attack the shields. Can you describe it?”

“It just sucks the Energy right out of it. Shields grow dim and as weak as malformed eggshells, and then they disintegrate.”

“Does the spell attach in any way to the shield itself?”

“No, the Energy just floats out of the shield toward the orb I’ve created.”

Ah, she bet he hadn’t set the shield to guard from the Energy leaving, just Energy coming in. “And do any specific types of shielding tend to slow it down?”

“No, all of them seem to be affected equally. Analindë, why so many questions? What are you planning?”

“I am just curious,” she quickly said. “Our shielding session is over now?” He nodded, “Then I am off to change, and you?”

“The same for me,” he said. “Let me know when you’re ready for dinner; we’ll walk down together.”

Eager to try her hand at scrying, Analindë had hurried through her bath. Her hair was still damp when she sat down at the desk near the windows in her room. She poured water into the wide silver bowl in front of her.

She rubbed her hands against her legs attempting to steady them. She felt just as nervous as she’d been the first time she’d called fire.

She felt jittery. Butterflies fluttered away in her tummy. Her hands began to tremble and so she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Let the worry go. This was nothing like the void. She stopped that thought immediately. She was going to enter the void later; it would be best not to reinforce her fears, legitimate though they were. And so she told herself she was now better prepared to enter the void, and that this was just a simple practice test to do beforehand.

The butterflies didn’t listen; she felt like she was going to throw up. She raced to a nearby window, throwing it open. Leaning out, she took in big gulps of winter air. The shocking cold calmed her, clearing her mind of panicky thoughts. It took a long moment for her galloping pulse to return to normal, but she hung out the window until it did. She thought that it would be best not to think of anything at all but the task at hand.

And so she thought of the bitter cold air and nothing else.

Once her mind was cleared, her self calmed, she shut the window and sat back down. She stared at the silver bowl in front of her and repeated the steps of scrying to herself, again and again.

This was simple. It was easy. She’d be able to do this without too much effort,
she told herself.

Deciding to take the plunge, she entered into a half trance and steadied her breathing. Four counts in, hold, four counts out, and again. She mentally felt for the ground beneath her and settled herself down upon it. She became firm and strong, supporting the weight of her soul as she prepared to cast the spell.

She snapped to center, Energy connections crisp and clear. Her mind focused and sharp. No distractions.

There was no need to anchor herself for this spell, but she decided it wouldn’t hurt to practice so she sent a tendril of Energy out and latched onto the stone beneath her. She knitted that bit of Energy with the stone’s energies until they became one, inseparable.

Analindë opened her eyes and scooted forward so she could peer into the bowl; the bright windows reflected upon the water’s surface. She focused her mind on her memory of the gardens outside; in particular, of a piece of sculpture in the garden. The one at the pool of water where the buck guarded the doe, ever watchful and wary.

She gathered a small amount of power within her and said, “
Palan
,” then pushed both Energy and the image of the garden sculpture toward the bowl. The water within the bowl expanded and then solidified, turning a glossy black. A blurry image appeared within the darkness, fading in and out. She’d read that scrying through shields would do this, right now it was fine; she could afford the extra cost of power.

She sharpened her focus on the image of the deer sculpture, willing the bowl to understand, and the deer jumped into view accompanied by an electric zing of Energy. With a yelp she relaxed her focus a tiny bit, and the draw on her source lessened. Attempting to determine the best way to complete the spell with the least amount of Energy expended, she played with the level of focus for a moment and found the place where the spell was comfortable enough to hold and would not tire her quickly.

Satisfied by her efforts, Analindë broadened her view to encompass the pond; the blue stone path stood out starkly against the white landscape surrounding it. A student hurried along the path as the wind buffeted him along the way.

Elated, she released the spell. “I did it. I can’t believe I did it.” She leaned back into her chair in relief. She let the spell dissolve, then cut her anchor. Contented joy ebbed within her as she contemplated the small success. Life was good.

There was still so much that she had to learn about scrying, such as protecting herself from attack while she did so or shielding herself so that others couldn’t sense that she watched, or how to slip through areas that were warded against prying eyes. But those lessons wouldn’t be learned until she had full access to the restricted section of the library. What she knew for now would suffice.

Analindë found Andulmaion waiting for her in the study; he was perusing one of those old tattered pamphlets he always seemed to carry around. This one was tied together with a scarlet ribbon. “Are you ready to head down? Or would you like a little more time to study before we go?” she asked kindly.

Her voice startled him and his head snapped up quickly. Upon seeing her, his face relaxed and he said, “Now is fine.” He carefully set his pamphlet aside and stood up.

“Have you heard the latest news about the humans?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“I ask because I thought you’d want to know before the general melee in the dining hall engulfs you.”

“Good thinking, and thanks for the offer.”

He nodded his head and said, “No trace of the humans has been found, but they haven’t yet dared attack the Mountain City. The good news is that one of our scouting teams will reach the region by nightfall. They are the best in the Realm actually.” At the mention of scouts, Analindë’s face went white, and her eyes widened. She hadn’t made the connection before now. “One of them was a friend to your brother–”

“Arandur.” She sat down abruptly.

“Yes, it’s Arandur. Are you all right?” He rushed over to her, his eyes were wary, but she didn’t notice.

“Do you know him well?” He softly laid a hand on her arm.

“He practically lived with us each summer for as long as I can remember. He and Riian would trail each other around the foothills of the valley, tracking and hunting each other. Sometimes they would let me tag along, but most days I couldn’t keep up.”

By the time Analindë had finished speaking, Andulmaion’s eyes had become guarded. He said, “Well if anyone can find the humans it will be Arandur and his team.”

“Do you think that they are safe?” she asked.

“They’ve been tracking the humans for weeks now and no harm has befallen them so far. They are the best at their craft; none could be safer under the same circumstances.” He looked away from her and picked up a small wooden bowl ringed with birds in flight he quickly set it back down. “Come let us go to dinner.”