The Book of Deacon (52 page)

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Authors: Joseph Lallo

Tags: #fantasy, #magic, #warrior, #epic, #epic fantasy series, #dragon, #the book of deacon

BOOK: The Book of Deacon
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Myranda likely hadn't been awake long enough
to hear the end of the sentence.

#

She awoke after a black, dreamless sleep, and
stumbled forth groggily. Myn led her to Deacon--who, in turn, led
her to the food hall. As they ate, and she shook off the last of
the sleep, they spoke.

"How many days has it been this time?"
Myranda asked.

"Only single night has passed. Another
personal best for you. Here, have one," he said, placing another of
her apples before her.

"Ah, yes. The fruits of my efforts. I still
have the one that he gave me last night," she said, taking a bite.
The flavor was familiar, but different. It had a hint of something
that made it unlike any apple that she had ever tasted. Her face
betrayed her thoughts.

"Curious? The apple tastes different because
you grew it. When a person prompts a plant into being, the result
is a fruit slightly different from any grown before. You leave your
mark. What's more, any apple tree grown from a seed from this one
will bear fruit with the same quality. You have given birth to a
new breed," he said.

"I like it," she said, munching happily.

"Are you quite rested? Calypso has already
been told of your completion and is eagerly awaiting you," Deacon
said.

"I feel well enough to do a bit today.
Calypso . . . I haven't met her yet," she said.

"No, I don't believe you have. Well, we shall
remedy that soon enough," he said.

After the meal, Myranda fetched her staff and
was taken directly to her next trainer. At least, she was told so.
When she reached her destination, she found it to be the small lake
near the edge of the village toward the sea. Myn sniffed at the
water and immediately retreated. She seemed terrified of the stuff,
and adamant that Myranda not go near it. Apparently, the
circumstances of their arrival in this place had taken their toll
on the poor creature.

"Calypso!" Deacon called out.

They waited a few moments before he called
again.

"I know that I learned my fire magic from a
dragon. Does this mean I will be learning my water magic from a
fish?" Myranda asked.

"Well . . . I suppose that would be half
correct," he said, picking up a small stone and skipping it across
the surface.

The ripples spread across the top of the
lake. Among them was a small, more stable ripple that ran steadily
toward them. It grew stronger as it approached. Through the water,
something distorted could be seen beneath the ripple. When it had
made it to the water's edge, the disturbance finally emerged. It
was fantastically beautiful woman. She was wearing a shimmering
bodice and had long golden hair. Around her neck hung a pendant
that contained her gem. Whereas most had been as near to clear as
possible, hers was a deep blue. Just visible beneath the water was
an exquisite emerald tail, like that of a fish, that was the
precise color of her eyes. She was a mermaid. Her voice had such a
pristine clarity that she seemed to be singing every word.

"Deacon! Always a pleasure! And this must be
Myranda! I have heard some very impressive things about you, my
dear. These next few weeks will be a treat!" she said.

"I am quite sure that you two will have a
fine time together--but remember that Myranda is still unaccustomed
to the whimsical attitudes of wizards. Please treat her gently,"
Deacon requested.

"Deacon, I am shocked that you would think
that I would treat my guests with anything less than complete and
utter civility. Now come on, we've so much to do!" Calypso
exclaimed.

With that, she grasped Myranda's hand and
pulled her into the water. Before either she or Myn could object,
the helpless girl was dragged swiftly to the bottom of the lake,
near the center.

"There. That is so much better. Out of that
hot sun and harsh breeze," Calypso said, turning to her guest.

Myranda was floundering and struggling to
keep her breath. The trip to the bottom had been so sudden she
hadn't even the time to take a deep breath.

"Oh. Silly me," Calypso said, touching her
fingers to the amulet.

Myranda dropped to the lake bed and took a
long, wracking breath. Her panic turned to confusion as the cool
water filled her lungs and she no longer longed for air. She stood
and tentatively took a second "breath," if such a word could still
be applied. Her clothes and hair billowed about her as the slight
currents swept past her, while she felt as steady on the
pebble-covered ground as if she were on dry land.

Now that she was able to relax, Myranda
looked at her surroundings. The light danced on the ground in the
most beautiful way. The slight blue tint of the water seemed to
highlight the green of the algae on the rocks. In the distance,
what must be Calypso's quarters stood majestically, a hut just like
the others, though a bit larger. It seemed frightfully out of place
at the bottom of a lake.

"What did you do to me?" Myranda asked.

"Oh, that little spell? I merely swapped the
roles of water and air for you. It is rather simple; every mermaid
and merman knows it. If we didn't, we would hardly get any surface
visitors at all, and those we did would be holding their breath.
Not that I mind, of course. If you want to hold your breath, that
is your business, but it really cuts into conversation," she
said.

Calypso spoke with a speed that was almost
disorienting, yet with perfect diction and tremendous expression.
Cresh had spoken volumes at a time, but the few words she had
understood made the conversations, at least manageable, albeit
one-sided. The mermaid grinned at the bewildered look on Myranda's
face.

"I apologize in advance to for my tendency to
ramble. You see, I am the one and only water-dweller in the whole
of this wonderful little village. As a result, I am seldom blessed
with visitors, and when anyone
does
come down here, it is always strictly
business. I suppose that is why you have come here as well, but
what I have heard of you tells me that you are
very
personable. I mean that,
of course, in the sense that you have a fine personality, rather
than the meaning that you are attractive.

"Which is not to say that you are not
attractive. Quite the opposite. I merely intend to imply that
attractiveness is not the quality that I was looking forward to.
Deacon told me. He is a dear, and he thinks the world of you.
Always raving about you, your mind, your skill. I've never seen the
boy more excited. It does him good, though. I do hope you feel the
same about him," she said.

"Oh, I do. I only wish that I could learn a
bit of what he has to teach. It seems interesting, but we haven't
had the time," Myranda said, after her mind had managed to catch up
to the question. The brief silence seemed unusually long in light
of the torrent of words Calypso produced.

"What he has to teach? Oh, yes, you mean his
magic. I'm sorry, dear, but I wasn't concerned about what you
thought of him as a magician. Although you are, of course, correct.
Quite staggering, the knowledge he has. And there is so much of it
in the spells that we elemental wizards use. I tell you, it is a
wonder that he isn't more respected than we. But, then, that is
politics for you. No one had ever expected there to be a Master who
specialized in gray, and so is no place for one in the old ways.
Antiquated, I say, but still we cling to them. Oh, there I go
wandering again. The subject was Deacon. Yes, I was rather more
concerned about what you thought of him as a person," she said.

"He is a fine person. He is most certainly my
very best friend," Myranda replied.

"Excellent! It does my heart good to meet
someone with a bit of life left in her. I honestly cannot say that
I have heard the word 'friend' used here since my arrival. It is
always 'colleague' or 'associate.' Lifeless words.

"Most that come here have already rendered
themselves down into little more than a repository of information
about this or that. These people can scarcely open their mouths
without a statement about magic or battle spilling out. They forget
that there is a life to be lived, but not you. And, since you have
arrived, not Deacon. Doesn't spend nearly the time in that dusty
old hut keeping those books. You know, before you showed up, he
hadn't come to see me in over two years?

"I tell you, you have been a tonic for him.
As a matter of fact, I would like to see more of the two of you
together. After we get the preliminaries out of the way, I say we
bring him down here. He can assist me. Better yet, he can distract
you enough to keep you down here a bit longer, and I'll have more
company. However, before we can put that plan into action, there is
the small matter of giving you the basics of my art. You know the
procedure by now. Ears and mind focused, everything else ignored.
Didn't you have a staff when you came here?" Calypso spouted.

Myranda had become so lost in her words that
it took her a moment to realize that she had been addressed.

"Oh, yes, I did bring my staff. Where has it
gone to?" Myranda wondered.

Myranda looked around her feet. Calypso, more
accustomed to the environment, looked in the other direction.

"Ah, there we are," she said, spying the
staff that was now bobbing on the surface of the water.

With a speed and grace that made her seem as
fluid as the water around her, Calypso darted up and snatched the
staff, returning to the waiting student.

"Hold on to that, or else I'll let
you
get it
next time," she said playfully.

Myranda swiftly entered the focused state of
mind.

"Very good. Now, I suppose I really haven't
much to say, though that is not to say that I will not be saying
much. You see, save the specific mystic quality of the element,
dealing with water is identical to dealing with air. They are both
fluid. Water is thicker and heavier than air, of course. This will
require a bit more energy to work with it, but the principles, at
least in the beginning, are the same. In a way, Ayna has done my
work for me.

"First, I want you to get a feel for what
water 'looks like' mystically," Calypso said.

Myranda looked through her mind's eye,
reaching out with her spirit into her surroundings. The water
around her was something of a cool, feathery feeling in her
mind.

"Once you have it, move it about. I want to
feel the current," Calypso said.

Myranda did as Ayna had taught to this new
element. It was indeed much more difficult to move. She felt as
though she were pushing on a wall. Regardless, after a bit of
effort, the mass of water around her began to shift.

"Fine. Fine work," she said. "Now, just for
the practice of it, cast the spell."

"I
am
casting it," Myranda said.

"Oh, I am sorry. Terminology has never been
my strong suit. You see, the word cast, as in 'cast a spell,' is
used to mean the same as throw or some such. When I use it I think
of it as 'form the spell' or 'shape the spell.' I don't recall what
the word is that we have decided upon to mean what I mean. Set the
spell, I suppose. Oh, whatever the others called it," Calypso
said.

"I am afraid I don't know what you mean,"
Myranda said.

"Honestly? Well, then the others have been
remiss. It is a very useful thing to do. I would wager to say that
it effectively doubles the usefulness of a spell. You see, what I
want you to do is to allow the spell to continue in the absence of
your concentration. It is quite simple. Just increase the amount of
force you are using to create the effect, but do not increase the
effect. Think of it as, say, clenching your fist about a handful of
wet sand. When you relax your hand, it keeps its form. The energy
in the water will do the same thing, staying in the excited form
you had coaxed it into," Calypso said.

Myranda tried, but it was not immediately
apparent how to do so. Refreshingly, Calypso watched and coached
her as she went. This was something that, owing to Ayna's attitude
and Cresh's language, hadn't happened properly since Solomon had
taught her. It took several tries, but finally she loosened her
mind and, lo and behold, the current she had conjured did not
weaken for nearly a minute.

"Remarkable," Myranda said, feeling the
fruits of her labor without the veil of concentration for the first
time.

"I agree. And there is so much more to show
you," Calypso said.

As the light filtering through the water
waned, Myranda learned how to draw air from the water, eventually
creating a bubble the size of her head. Calypso assured her that in
no time she would be able to create one large enough to stand in,
and after a bit more education, large enough to ride in.

All too soon it was time for her to
leave.

"Well, I will see you tomorrow," Calypso
said, holding her hand as she whisked the girl back to the water's
edge.

"I look forward to it," Myranda said.

She walked a few more steps, emerging from
the water. There was an odd sensation of heaviness. Myn, who had
been watching anxiously and waiting for hours, sprang to her feet
and tried to usher her away from the water.

"It is all right, Myn. There is nothing to be
scared of," Myranda said, or tried to at least. Instead water
poured from her mouth. She took a breath of air, and found it
worthless to her. Realizing what was happening, she turned and
plunged her head back into the water. After a long breath, she
opened her eyes. There before her was Calypso. She was lying on the
floor of the bank, just below the surface of the water, smiling.
Her face was so close their noses were practically touching.

"Something wrong, dear?" she asked
innocently.

"I can't breathe up here," Myranda said.

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