|
Chapter 36. The Apprentice's Burden |
|
 |
arm light slipped past the heavy curtains and he rolled over onto his side to face the window, relieved that he could rise and leave his bed at last. Mabane hated the night. His dreams had become increasingly intense and the fear of nightmare pervaded his waking hours. He had no one to talk to about his experiences and no one to comfort him when he awakened terrified and drenched in sweat. Sleep did not refresh him, and as time wore on, an impending sense of doom and desperation plagued his waking hours. He did not wish to burden to his mother about them. The dream that plagued him now would only disgust her at best and horrify her at worst. Mabane climbed to his feet and padded over to the window, throwing open the drapes so that the full warm light of morning flowed over him. He basked in the reassuring glow and then resolved to go check on his mother and Sabina to be sure the dream was not real. Of course, he told himself, a dream was a dream. And yet the vividness of his night time visions disturbed him so much he needed the reassurance of knowing all was well in his waking world. He moved hesitantly toward his parent’s bedroom and slowly nudged the door open to gaze upon his mother curled on her side at the center of the bed she had once shared with Pendaran. Sabina was at her breast. Mother and child slept fitfully, unaware of the horror he had seen. For a moment he lurked in the doorway gazing suspiciously at the window where the shadowy stranger always appeared. The cool morning air flowed through it along with the warm light of a summer morning. Mabane crept toward it, hardly making a sound as he closed the window and latched it and then drew the drapes closed. In the dimness he moved to his mother’s side and pulled the quilt up over her shoulder protectively. He wanted her to continue sleeping, it was the only time she seemed truly at peace. Sabina would wake her soon enough. Assured he would be left to his own devices for a time, he crept toward his father’s chest and eased it open. Everything was as Mabane had left it on the prior mornings. He shifted aside the three heavy black and red volumes of Canthan linguistic texts until he found the carved sandalwood and gold inlaid box Zhou had gifted to Pendaran for his spell and signet rings. He slipped the slim case out into the open. It was a thing of beauty such as a master would grant to a treasured student and Pendaran had once told Mabane that he would bequest it to him. He often allowed Mabane to carry it to him and fetch the precious focusing rings from their velvet cradle. He knew most of them by name now and quite a few he understood by function. The ones Pendaran favored for his art were already showing signs of wear, smoothed by his touch and stored in the nearest slot within easy reach. He closed the chest and tiptoed from the room with the slim coffer clutched under one arm, retreating to his bedroom and closing the door. It was small enough that he could stash it under his pillow if his mother or a servant came calling. Both were polite enough to knock before barging in on him. Now he opened the red velvet lined lid and gazed upon the rows of gleaming rings lined up on their sides in each of the narrow grooves. He fingered them eagerly, recalling the way Pendaran donned them in the morning while offering prayers to Lyssa until their essence flowed into him. Mabane was only allowed to use the slim unadorned practice rings that were pushed off to one side. The toothless bite that he could never quite master gleamed accusingly back at him. There was also the simple ether attunement ring and an equally non-demanding centering mantra that he could invoke in his sleep. He lingered over the dangerous ones, spells he would not be allowed to master until the others were rote. There were the thicker, more ornate rings that glowed softly with a golden light. These, Pendaran had warned him, could only be focused one at a time. He had ten of them, each heavy and beautiful, their secrets locked away in tiny faceted whorls of magenta and platinum. All but one had been granted to Pendaran by Master Bei. The tenth was reserved with a certain fondness for it had been won in a battle against a terrible demon. It was a story Mabane requested multiple times though he knew it wearied his father to repeat it. He drew this one out from its hallowed place among the ten special rings and clutched it as if it were a lucky charm. His fingers were still narrower than Pendaran’s, but he slipped it on and turned his hand, entranced as the light danced over its violet and sapphire jewels. Then, glancing guiltily at the door, he reached above his bed to the shelf where a battered rapier lay. Forbidden from using it by Master Bei, Pendaran had given it to Mabane as a talisman against nightmares. He lifted it down now and folded his legs, its weight a comfort to him. Brigit had taught him how to hone and oil its slim two-edged blade and he drew it now out of the plain black leather scabbard Pendaran had made for it. Rising now, his blue eyes flashing in the soft morning light, he prayed softly to Lyssa, focusing upon the ring and willing the spell pattern into his mind. He clenched his fist emphatically, pressing the cool metal band against his flesh so that it would not slip as the pattern unfolded before his mind’s eye. Now the words of the incantation came to him and he uttered them softly, holding out the blade in a trembling hand and sweeping it back quickly. A lambent magenta glow danced over the blade and the metal hummed softly, the handle growing warm as the enchantment blazed into being. Crying out in pain, he dropped the weapon as blisters erupted upon his palm. Chaos energies sparked and curled over the weapon’s brass quillons where it lay upon the polished wood of the floor and an unpleasant burning odor arose. The floor around the sword darkened and a thick smoke curled accusingly toward him. Paralyzed by fear, he could only stare mutely at his working. “Mabane?” came his mother’s voice, slow and tired. Trembling, he tossed a blanket over the smoldering weapon and a pillow over the coffer. He went to the door and opened it a crack, trying to look sleepy and innocent. “Yes, Mother?” He sighed and left the bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar so that it would not appear he was hiding something. Crossing the sitting room, he stood in the doorway of her bedroom. Teleri was sitting up in bed and one of Sabina’s pudgy fists appeared above the blankets where she nursed out of sight at her mother’s breast. Mabane could sense the babe’s contentment over the low suspicious buzz of his mother’s psyche. Careful to keep his blistered palm concealed, he arrived obediently at the foot of the bed. “Are you alright?” Teleri asked, smiling at him now. “Yes, Mama.” “Are you still having nightmares, sweetheart?” He nodded, contriving to look pathetic. Her nose twitched. “What’s that smell? Are you burning something?” “I knocked the candle off onto the floor in my sleep, Mother. I’m sorry.” “You should not leave it alight if you’re going to sleep, Mab.” “I know… I was just scared of the dark.” That seemed to do the trick. She smiled sadly at him and gestured for him to come sit beside her so she could offer him an embrace. Mabane obliged her, all the while trying to figure out what he had done wrong. Maybe he should try one of the less powerful spells first. But he needed something potent to protect them, in case something ever did come through the window. “Everything will be alright, sweetheart,” she murmured, nuzzling him fondly. He nodded, knowing it was a lie adults were fond of repeating. Mabane smiled, humoring her deluded sentiments. Somehow he would find a way to protect them. Pendaran was no longer there to do it, and so it had fallen to him.
|
