Can't Look Back (War for Dominance Book 1) (7 page)

“I see,” replied Solim, pursing his lips, “the Magistra sent them to bring back the devil. I’m glad you came to tell me; the person I asked to watch the outlander failed me, and I didn’t know where he had gone.” He paused, stroking his goatee. He had grown it to further disguise his face but found that stroking it helped him think. “It is unfortunate that those two are to be paired up again, but it is too late for them to do the Magisterium any good. By the time they get back, it will all be over.”

“If you say so, my brother,” replied Rubic, who wasn’t briefed on any of the overarching plans. He looked around Solim’s hidden office to mask his annoyance. Although he didn’t mind spying for his half-brother, he wished that Solim would trust him more. The room hadn’t changed much since his last visit, although Cuddles had grown at least a foot.

“Did you learn anything else?” Solim asked.

“The mouse I was using to spy on them was on the other side of the room,” Rubic replied, “so I couldn’t hear everything. The Magistra sent them to get something, and then they were to go bring back the devil.”

Solim stroked his beard a few more times and then nodded his head, coming to a conclusion. “I don’t want them back. Follow them and find out what their plans are. If you get the opportunity, kill them.”

Ghorza and John made camp as darkness fell. John looked up at the Mountain of Flames rising far above them. The lava inside the volcano’s cone gave the mountain top a soft glow. “Is it safe to camp here?” he asked. “What if the volcano erupts?”

“It hasn’t erupted in recent memory,” answered Ghorza. “Some say that the gods of fire keep the lava at the same level because they use it to bathe in.”

“Is that true?”

Ghorza laughed. “Who is to know?” she said. “The next time I see one, I’ll ask.”

She started to make the campfire. “This would be easier if Dantes were here,” she said, trying to coax a spark out of her piece of flint. “Even the fire cantrip would be helpful in getting this lit.”

“Can I try?” asked John. “You told me you’d let me try magic once we made camp. Maybe I can do it.”

Ghorza tossed the knife and flint onto her pack. “Sure,” she agreed. “I’ve never been good at lighting a campfire. That was always Dantes’ job. I was the cook.” She looked up the mountain where Dantes had been camping but couldn’t see any signs of habitation. “If we find him, don’t let him cook unless you like eating the soles of your sandals. He burns everything.”

She waved him over to the shallow fire pit she had dug. John walked over and looked down, and he could see a little ball of tinder inside a tepee of kindling. “What do I need to do?” he asked.

She pointed to a little gap in the kindling that she had been trying to get a spark through to the tinder. “Put your finger right there and say, ‘
Scintilla!
’ That is the fire cantrip, which makes a spark.”

“I thought you couldn’t do fire magic,” noted John.

“Just because I can’t do it doesn’t mean that I haven’t heard Dantes say it a hundred times. Are you going to do it, or should I try some more with the flint?”

“Yes, I’m going to try,” John said, looking at his hands. They were shaking. Badly. He didn’t know which scared him more: finding out that he couldn’t do magic...or finding out that he could. He blew out a large breath and knelt next to the fire pit. Holding out his finger like a wand, he cried, “
Skintilda
!” Nothing happened in the fire pit, and Ghorza began laughing.

“Skintilda!” she said, holding her stomach. “What’s a skintilda? It sounds like some kind of rodent.” She laughed some more, causing John’s face to go red. “What I said was, ‘
Scintilla!
’” she added, once she had calmed herself.

“Ha, ha, ha,” replied John in annoyance. “Why don’t
you
do it if you’re so perfect? Oh, yeah, I forgot. You can’t.”

“No, I can’t,” said Ghorza, sobering, “but I
can
do several other nasty things to you if you’d like.”

“No,” said John with a sigh. “Never mind; sorry. Just frustrated. My first chance to do
real
magic and I mess up the spell word.” He rolled his shoulders several times, relaxing himself. Before Ghorza could comment, he pointed his finger and said, “
Scintilla
!” A spark leapt from his finger onto the tinder. It glowed for a moment and then went out. He felt somewhat...emptier in his mind.

He looked up to find Ghorza staring at him with an open mouth. “By the fifth god,” she said. “You did it.” She shook her head, clearing the disbelief from her face. “You need to blow on it gently once you get the spark on the tinder.”

John wasn’t listening, though; he was too busy jumping up and down. “I did it! I did it! I can do magic!” He ran over and started shaking Ghorza in his excitement. “You saw it! I can do magic! I’m a mage!”

The half-orc took hold of John’s hands and worked her way out of his grasp. “Yes, you did magic,” she said, “but it was only a cantrip. That doesn’t mean you’re a mage. The odds are still ten to one that you aren’t.” She tilted her head, peering down at him. “When you cast the spell, did you feel a little empty in your head afterward?”

“Yeah, I did. Is that good or bad?”

“It means that you have a mana store,” Ghorza explained. “In nearly all cases, that means you probably
are
a mage. We won’t know for sure for a while, though. You’ll have to cast the cantrip many times before you’re ready for a first level spell.” She indicated the fire pit. “Cast it again, and this time blow gently on the tinder once you get a spark on it.”

John focused on the tinder again. “
Scintilla!
” Once again, a spark leapt from his finger, landing on the tinder. He leaned forward and blew gently on it. The spark caught, and flames engulfed the ball of tinder. He continued to blow gently, and the flames grew, setting fire to the kindling with small crackling pops. He sat back, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Try casting it again,” urged Ghorza. “Keep casting it until you can’t do it anymore.”

Leaning forward, John commanded, “
Scintilla!
” For a third time, a spark leapt from his finger. He thought he heard an intake of breath from Ghorza, standing behind him. “
Scintilla!
” he ordered for a fourth time. This time was different. Where he had noticed a feeling of...potential...when he had concentrated on the spell word the other times, this time he didn’t feel anything. He just felt empty. “I didn’t get anything that time,” he said, stating the obvious.

“I saw,” said Ghorza. “Still, most mages aren’t able to cast the cantrip more than once their first time, and only a very few can do it three times. You have a larger mana pool than most mages.”

“What is a mana pool?”

“That is the spell casting potential that a mage has, and every mage’s pool is different. Yours is one of the biggest I’ve ever seen, although it is not unheard of for a new mage to cast three cantrips. That’s how many I cast, by the way. As mages progress upward in level, their mana pools will grow, allowing them to cast more spells. Of course, as you move up, each new level of spell costs more mana to cast than the preceding level’s spells did, so it is kind of a matter of diminishing returns.”

“Can I try one of the other cantrips?” asked John.

“Not right now. Not only are you out of mana, which will replenish itself slowly over time, but it is also exceedingly unlikely that you will be able to cast any of the other cantrips. Only about one mage in ten thousand is able to cast a second element’s spells, and no one can do three.”

“Why not?”

“Just like the gods of good and evil are opposites, the elements have opposites, too. If you are a fire mage, you cannot cast water-based spells, and vice versa. Similarly, if you are an air mage, you cannot cast earth-based spells.”

“Can I try one of those others in the morning?” John asked.

“You can,” said Ghorza, “but you shouldn’t hold your breath that it is going to work.”

Dantes looked at the bubbling lava far below him and finally came to a decision. It was time to leave Norlon. He didn’t know where he was going to go, but he had enjoyed traveling through Tasidar when he was looking for the land where the Spectre lived. He would journey to Harbortown and take the next ship to wherever it was headed, as long as it wasn’t to Northshire. Although the halflings might like the weather there, it was too cold for his taste.

Maybe he would renew his search for the Spectre. Maybe he would just travel, looking for a place to fit in. If he was really lucky, he would find a small border war that needed his magical talents. That would probably be the most satisfying. If he couldn’t find that, maybe he would look into freelance bounty hunting, as long as it was somewhere far away from Norlon. He laughed. Maybe he’d go to Salidar and start his own kingdom. There were always warlords starting new kingdoms there. Although physically smaller than most of the evil races that lived there, he knew he was much smarter than most of them, too, which would allow him to move up through the ranks quickly...as long as he stayed alive. His talents would be in demand wherever he went, especially his ability to work fire magic, and he was hard to kill. Going to Salidar might mean becoming evil...but thanks to his father, he knew he had it in him.

As he walked back to his tent, Dantes glanced down the mountain and saw a small flickering light at its base where someone was camping. He didn’t feel like putting up with mountain climbers, so he decided to get up early and go down the other side of the mountain. Having spent three months by himself, he found that he was starting to enjoy his own company. Dantes went to sleep early, but dreams of uncontrolled fires haunted his sleep.

“Ghorza, the sun is up.”

The half-orc rolled away from John. She wasn’t ready to get up yet, and the sun was
not
up. In fact, the sky was only just starting to gray. “I don’t know why you’re in such a hurry,” she grumbled. “You do realize that Dantes will probably try to kill you when he sees you, right?”

“
What?
What do you mean?” John shrieked. “You never said anything about him trying to kill me!”

Ghorza’s thick lips curled upward around her tusks in a grin. That will teach him to wake me up early, she thought. Realizing that was her mother’s blood talking, she took pity on him. “Well, there’s no doubt that he will be angry to see you, just like I was. That can’t be helped. Until we explain everything to him, he’s probably going to be pretty mad at you. After that, he’ll just be angry in general, which won’t be much better.” She paused and then added, “Don’t worry about it, though. I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ll have a couple of spells ready that we can use to control him long enough to tell him what really happened.”

“Umm, OK...” replied John, still sounding unsure. “Maybe it would be better if I just stayed down here, and you went up to tell him.”

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” said Ghorza. “It’ll be fine.” She stretched. “Well, I’m up now. Might as well get going. The Spectre isn’t getting any closer.” She started rolling her blankets.

“Before we go off to my doom,” John said, “can I try one of the other cantrips? I’m dying to know if I can do it.”

“That isn’t the word I would have chosen to describe it,” replied Ghorza. “People
have
died in the past trying to do too much magic too quickly. It doesn’t happen often, but still...” Her voice trailed off.

That wasn’t something that had ever been mentioned to John, but he was
really
curious to find out if he could do it. “I’d still like to try.”

Ghorza shrugged. “It’s your funeral,” she said with a smile. John wasn’t sure if she was just kidding with him or being serious, but he also wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

The half-orc moved to stand next to John. “This is the air cantrip,” she said. “It is a gust of wind.”

“What does it do?” asked John.

“It is a gust strong enough to float on,” Ghorza said. “It can be used to cushion a fall or keep you from breaking a dish if you drop one.” She pointed her finger at him from about a foot away. “
Natate!
” she commanded. John could feel himself gently but firmly pushed away.

“That’s cool!” he exclaimed.

“Well, it may not be a wall of flames, but it does have its uses.”

John picked up his blanket and threw it up in the air. Just before it hit the ground, he pointed and said, “
Natate!
” The blanket came to rest about six inches above the ground, spreading out to lie flat on the cushion of air. “That. Is. Awesome!” he shouted.

Having fun, he cast the cantrip again and watched his blanket rise up into the air. He didn’t see her jaw fall open in amazement. No one learned how to do two different types of spells that fast, she thought. No one. And no one was able to do it that well. The only spell that fizzled was the one he said wrong. It was impossible. It was...unnatural. It just didn’t happen.

He cast the spell a third time and then turned around, grinning from ear to ear. “What’s next, master?” he asked. “Can I try one of the other two?”

“Not now.”

“Why not?”

“Well, you don’t have any mana left, I’m sure,” she said. “And besides, it’s just not possible to do any of the other types. No matter which one you try, it is the opposite of one of the ones you already cast. You can’t cast both fire and water spells. It can’t be done.”

“You sound like I just said that the sun would rise in the opposite direction,” John said with a laugh. “Like I was going to break one of the laws of nature or something.”

“If you knew
anything
about magic,” said Ghorza, “which you obviously don’t, you would know that casting one of the other spells
would
violate one of the laws of magic. Fire and water are in opposition, just like air and earth are. You can’t do both. They are opposites. Being able to cast one of them means that you are physically unable to do the other.
You can’t do both.
”

“Well it won’t kill me to try, will it?”

“Maybe,” replied Ghorza. “You are far too incautious. It
might
kill you. That is what I’m trying to tell you. They are opposites; maybe you will blow up if you do both. I don’t know!”

“Opposites that blow up when put together?” asked John. “You mean like matter and antimatter?”

“I don’t know what you just said,” she replied. “The necklace only made a beeping noise for those two words. But if they are two things that blow up catastrophically when you put them next to each other, yes, just like that.”

“Well, it can’t be as bad as matter and antimatter,” replied John. “Besides, they’re just cantrips. How bad could it be?” He paused. “Tell you what, why don’t I do the water spell. Maybe that will at least put out any fires that I start. It feels like I have enough mana for one more cantrip. I think.”

“I will let you try it, outlander, but I am going to move a long way away. That way, if it goes wrong, you will only kill yourself.”

“Fine,” he agreed. “What’s the word for the water cantrip?”

“
Aqua!
” Ghorza said.

“Really?” he asked. “That ought to be easy.” He rubbed his hands together, and then he pointed at the embers of the campfire. “
Aqua!
” he ordered. A drizzle of water appeared where he pointed and fell into the fire, turning to steam. The hissing of the steam was drowned out by a loud crash from behind him. “
Now
I’m out of mana,” John said, turning back around. Ghorza stood still, staring at the fire as if she had seen a ghost. All of her equipment lay at her feet where it had fallen. She shook her head, trying to clear it.

“I don’t know what all of this means,” she said, when she was able to speak again, “but I know we need to get back and talk to the Magistra. Let’s get our stuff and get going.”

She gathered her gear a second time and turned to look up the mountain. The peak was now in sunshine, although the mountaintop was too far to see clearly. “
Focus!
” she said, causing the light to bend and the distant peak to spring closer and into focus.

“Damn,” she said. “We’re too late.”

“What do you mean?” asked John.

“He’s gone.”