Chartomancy

Chapter Nineteen

3rd day, Month of the Dragon, Year of the Rat

9th Year of Imperial Prince Cyron’s Court

163rd Year of the Komyr Dynasty

737th year since the Cataclysm

Nemehyan, Caxyan

Jorim Anturasi had progressed so quickly in his studies that the maicana took it as a sure sign he was Tetcomchoa-reborn-and even he began to wonder if it was not true. He kept telling himself it wasn’t, but the sheer joy he felt in learning magic made him question many of the convictions he’d held his entire life. He still accepted that magic was a bad thing, but perhaps only out-of-control magic was bad-the same way anything done without respect for tradition, and without discipline, was bad.

He knelt in his private chamber’s anteroom across a round wooden table from Nauana. She had proven an apt teacher and he’d quickly moved from simple to more complex invocations. The key to it all, as she had insisted the first day, was to find the mai that defined things.

The truth was the link to magic, and could be used to call it forth and shift the balance of things. And shifting the balance of more than just the elements was also possible; one could use magic to alter objects physically. Best of all, while there were traditional methods for doing anything, there usually were multiple ways an effect could be created. As he learned more complex magics, he came more quickly to the desired ends. And, often, the more refined methods, while requiring more concentration, exhausted him less than the crude methods.

Nauana’s dark eyes sharpened as Jorim took a small wooden bucket from Shimik and poured golden sand in the center of the table. He tossed the empty bucket back to the Fenn, then scratched him behind an ear. Shimik fell over backward into a somersault and rolled away toward Jorim’s bedchamber.

“Tetcomchoa, I do not understand why you have this sand here. The lesson for today does not require sand.”

“I know, Nauana, but I had an idea and wish to try something.” Jorim touched a fingertip to the sand, then brushed away all but a single grain. “If this works, I think you will see something completely miraculous.”

She smiled, but slid back from the edge of the table. “As my lord wishes.”

“Thanks for the display of confidence.” He forced himself to relax, then concentrated on the grain of sand. Because it was so small, he found it difficult to identify at first. Solidity was the easiest aspect to grasp, with a hint of light. As he located it within mai, he found a strong connection between it and the rest of the sand, which did not surprise him too much. He had already learned that like was connected to like, and part of one thing was always connected to the other parts.

Slowly, he began to play with the balances of reality. First he used magic to make it light enough to float. That was not difficult given how little it weighed. The hard part was in retaining enough weight so it didn’t shoot up to the ceiling. After a few ups and downs, he centered it a finger length above his fingertip.

Then he began to play with heat. He channeled the mai into it and felt it begin to warm. Knowing his goal was within reach, he pumped more in. The grain of sand warmed, then became incandescent.

Then it exploded into a puff of vapor.

Nauana blinked, then leaned forward. “Are you all right, my lord?”

The barest hint of fatigue washed over him, but he nodded. “I’m fine, Nauana.”

“Was that the miracle, Lord?”

“No, not quite. Watch.” He picked up a handful of sand, raised it to face height between them, then slowly let it drift down. Using the mai, he caught the falling sand and held it suspended as a small sphere in the air. “Nor is this, yet.”

She said nothing, but watched the sand intently.

Again Jorim located the sand through the mai, and this time used the connectedness of it all. He slowly began to rebalance it so it would become warmer and warmer. As it began to heat up, he recalled his previous error and used the mai to alter another balance. Very carefully, while allowing the heat to continue to rise, he shifted the balance of the sand from solid to fluid.

When he’d first arrived on the Stormwolf in the land of the Amentzutl, he’d noticed a number of things which were common in the Nine, but nonexistent among the Amentzutl. One was horses, and the other was the wheel-at least as something to be used for more than a toy. While some on the expedition wanted to brand the Amentzutl as hopelessly primitive, wheeled transport was highly impractical in their rugged, mountainous land. When the expedition’s military had used war chariots against the Mozoyan, the Amentzutl had been impressed and even credited him with a miracle in their production.

One other thing the Amentzutl lacked was knowledge of glass. Jorim’s knowledge of it was not much more than basic, but he did know that sand, if heated enough, would become a thick, viscous fluid that could be shaped. While he had none of the skills of a glass artisan, mai and his ability to control it did give him some tools to manipulate the glass.

The sand sphere began to glow and give off light, easily illuminating the joy on Nauana’s face. Even Shimik keened with delight from the doorway. As the glow built, Jorim kept careful control of the sand, slowing the flow of mai into heat and pushing more into making it fluid. Curiously enough, it continued to get warm, which made sense. It is melting, which requires heat no matter what. By shifting that balance, I force it to become hotter.

The sand melted into glass and hung there, a miniature sun, blazing away. Using mai he constricted it around its equator and split the glowing yellow mass into two teardrops. He rounded both of them off and saw a look of pure wonder and joy on Nauana’s face.

And now to see if I can do the last of it.

Ever since he had noticed that things had a truth to them, he had been drawn to studying it. Though he was restricted from using magic outside the training sessions, he did spend a lot of time sensing the truth of things and defining them in mai. As he learned to see them, he began to understand the Amentzutl cosmology and could identify things by their sense in mai. He’d even had Iesol hide common items in a sealed wooden box and he’d been able to pick out what they were sight unseen.

Concentrating, he drew the truth of the table into his mind, then projected that into the glass. The twin orbs merged, then flattened out into a low disk. Three small legs dripped down and froze in place.

Nauana gasped and covered her mouth with a hand.

Jorim smiled and reached out to touch her essence with mai. As he did so he realized he’d not tried that with any living creature before, and he didn’t know what to expect. From the surface he felt her physically. Much as he had done with the table, he projected that sense of her into the glass.

The glass flattened itself into a thin disk that rotated between them. Though it still glowed, it remained thin enough that he could see her through it. The glass molded itself over the image of her features, sculpting itself to her face. The high cheekbones, the straight nose, the full lips. The glass flowed back to define her jaws and her ears. It even followed the shape of her head and flowed down over her neck and shoulders to become a perfect bust, save for her eyes.

The glass could not capture her eyes, so it thinned and holes opened, allowing him to look through it and to her.

And in doing that, he pushed past the surface and found her truth.

Heat pounded back through him, part blush, part fear, his and hers, and joy and delight and… so many emotions he could not catalogue them all. They flowed in a vast river of rainbow colors, with eddies and shoals, swift currents and places where the water remained almost still. While the river and its flow remained strong, the composition of it shifted.

Barely aware of what he was doing, he lowered the glass to the table. Setting it atop the remaining pile of sand, he reached past it with a hand. He gestured and she rose, as did he. Jorim came around the table and took her in his arms. He brought his mouth to hers and they kissed.

The instant their lips touched, all he had felt through mai intensified. Physical sensation flowed along the same routes as the magical, confirming what he knew. Then it grew as he caught her sensing him through mai and he opened himself to her, showing her who he was, what he was.

Unaware of moving, but realizing they had moved, Jorim found himself lying down with her on his bed. Neither of them wore much, and slipping a couple of knots relieved them of their loincloths. He stretched out beside her, his right hand drifting about an inch above her skin. From shoulder, over her breast, past a tight nipple and down the swell, over her flat stomach to hip and upraised thigh, he could feel her in the mai. He lowered his hand to her flesh, on top of her thigh, and slowly slid it back up, inch by inch. The smooth warmth of her skin, the pulse of blood beneath it, the twitch of muscles, the silky caress of hair, all of it combined with what he could sense. He caught the thrill running through her both in the mai and the way she lifted her chin as he stroked her breast. He let a finger circle her nipple and could feel the sensations ripple through her body.

He wanted her intensely and furiously. He had always found her beautiful beyond imagining. Her gentle teaching, her faith in him, had always represented a greater sense of who she was. But now, linked to her through the mai, he could see so much more.

She looked him in the eyes, but said nothing. Then new sensations pulsed through the mai. He closed his eyes and watched as she opened herself to him. He had been able to read her physically before, then emotionally, but he never could have seen who she was in her mind. He could not have found her secrets without destroying her.

But what he would never take, she freely offered. He saw her as a child, born into the caste of the maicana. She had gone through the lessons she had shared with him. He saw her teachers in the way she had taught him and learned she had been terribly gifted. As much as I have learned, she learned faster, and before she was even nine years old.

He watched her in other studies as she learned about the end of the calendar cycle. Her teachers warned her of the horrors of centenco. From them he heard of the promise which was Tetcomchoa’s return. He caught her firm conviction that only Tetcomchoa could save them from whatever was coming, and her resolve to be the best she could to help him.

She spent hours praying to Tetcomchoa. She offered sacrifices. She created prayers and songs. She rebuffed suitors, not because she did not like them, but because courting, marriage, and family would all be distractions from what she knew would be her life. She was prepared for Tetcomchoa’s return.

The day of his arrival floated through her mind. Jorim entered the chamber at the Temple of Tetcomchoa’s apex. The sun backlit him, so all she saw was a silhouette at first. She had expected him to be taller. The braids in his hair confused her for a moment, then she stepped from the shadows and took a closer look at him. His robe was decorated with the coiled serpent, the god’s sign.

Then, for the first time, she saw his face. Handsome, in a way no Amentzutl man had ever seemed to her. But it was the expression on his face-one of wonder and humility, tinged with anxiety and fear-that told her everything. He was Tetcomchoa, come to save them, ready to undertake all that was necessary, provided the Amentzutl would return to him the powers he had shared with them.

She had trained her entire life to do just that. And now, on the eve of her task’s beginning, she learned one more thing about herself and Tetcomchoa. She learned she had loved the god since before remembering. She had never pictured him in her mind and yet, he stood before her and could have been nothing else. The others might take convincing, but for her there was only knowing.

She knew this was Tetcomchoa.

Nauana caressed his face. “If it pleases my lord.”

He turned his head and kissed her palm. “You please me, Nauana.”

She blushed, then rose on her side and pressed her body to his. She rolled him onto his back, then rose above him. She straddled him, accommodating him. “I have loved you…”

Jorim nodded. “I know, Nauana.” He slipped his hand into her hair, grasping the back of her neck, and drew her mouth down to his. They kissed again-a kiss tasting of sweet fruits and the sea. They lost themselves in that kiss, and in each other.

And thus lost, created another magic altogether.