Chapter 17.

  After breaking my fast the next morning, I thought about the previous night’s incursion. I hadn’t attempted a head on attack like that in many years—casting spells one after another a draining precious matter?—?though it had perhaps been a ludicrous move, I’d been desperate.

  I looked around my small sleeping quarters where I was eating, and I thought of the others of this meager resistance. I needed to help these people. But also, what choice did I have? This is why I was here. If it had gone poorly, it may have been my last chance to find another mage.

  However, now my body felt sore all over, my head ached, and the worst of my pain centered at the wound just above my hipbone. I hadn’t allowed it time to heal, and that could be problem later.

  While infiltrating the prison, at one point, I’d narrowly avoided getting stuck by another arrow form a crossbow. I still felt the risk had been worth it to rescue Bend, someone who could carry on The Way. But I needed to be more careful now.

  I stood up from my small breakfast table slowly, and eased into the next room, the large meeting hall, looking for Dirk or Bend.

  I hadn’t noticed it before, but a chattering of voices swelled as I pushed open the door and saw that the large room had filled with perhaps fifty or more people?—?in fact, every seat was taken. Some had mugs of coffee?—?others had brought small packs, weapons, and supplies. Dirk sat near the front deep in conversation with another man I didn’t know; his face wearing a look of concern.

  Bend stood next to Lissa, the healer, talking to her excitedly about something. Bend saw me enter the room, and he moved to give me his chair, his hand brushing Lissa’s arm gently in a gesture of familiarity.

  A hush fell over the group as I stepped into the room and walked toward the great hearth at the front of the room. My nerves flared, as I considered the difficulty of our task, our truly thin hope, and the long years that had brought me to this moment. I needed this to work. We all needed our next steps to be true. I had to train Bend and find others with the spark, the rare ability to join magekind. If we worked hard, and took our steps carefully, we could rebuild the order of mages. Hoping for more was beyond me at this point.

  I nodded to Dirk and he stood up and met me at the front of the room. Those in the back of the room whispered to one another.

  “Everything okay?” I asked him in a low voice.

  “Yes,” he said aloud. Then he whispered to me in a softer voice, glancing at the group, his forehead betraying his answer. “We’ve protected this small group of resistance fighters for years. The requirements for entrance into our rebellion are high. It’s why we’re still alive, most of us. They do not trust the new one from the prison, Briar. No one knows him, and he’s not been seen in the city before.”

  I nodded. I’d seen this kind of distrust before. I had to admit, it wasn’t without merit.

  “I understand,” I said. “Unfortunately, he is here now, there is no way to change that. His allegiances will become clear soon enough.”

  Dirk nodded, worry imprinted on his face.

  “But keep a close eye on him, and we’ll see if he proves trustworthy,” I said softly.

  He nodded then turned back to the group, and I turned to face them.

  “How shall we start then, Mage?” he asked, louder this time, directing the question to me.

  The group came to attention, quieting again. I looked out at the people in the room, taking a calming breath and letting my eyes rest a little longer on Briar. His thick, knotted hair kept it from his eyes, long though it was. He watched the proceedings carefully, seemingly as suspicious of the Vale rebels as they were of him.

  “We shall start with a little test,” I said, in a measure voice. “I need to know who might possess the spark and who does not. Those of you who are predisposed for the use of magic will learn to use it for survival, to help our resistance, and yes, also for battle and strategy. I have much to teach you.”

  I paused as the whispers and excited voices swelled at that comment.

  I continued. “Those of you who do not have the spark will be trained in other ways but essentially for the same purposes. My new friends, we’re in a war here in Vale, there is no denying it. And all of you will need to become soldiers to help our efforts.”

  More whispering around the room. Was it excitement? Were they as nervous about this as I was? The spark was somewhat rare and people had it at varying levels, only showing up in one out of every 20 people, five in every hundred, and sometimes the spark was actually hard to recognize until later in life.

  “First things first,” I continued. “Today, Bend and I will meet with each of you individually to test your innate abilities. We will divide into two groups, magically inclined and not. Dirk, we will also need to train a small group of fighters, spies, and first responders who can be our eyes and ears inside and throughout the city. Those soldiers will be yours to command and organize. I will oversee those we discover who can become mages of The Way.”

  I turned to the larger group, “Any questions?”

  A man with bulky arms and rough hands, who looked very much like a hardy blacksmith, coughed and spoke up.

  “This group is ready to fight for the resistance against Uof, but how can we truly trust everyone in this room?” he said, eyeing those around him.

  Others agreed and some said so out loud.

  “You can’t,” I replied. “Listen, what is before us is more difficult than what is behind us, and I know your lives have all been difficult. We all need to learn to trust each other. You are each taking a risk to be here, and I hope you see that Uof and his gangs of motorized thugs are not what is best for you, or for your families. Do you want to continue to live under Uof’s thumb, barely surviving, on the edge of thirst every day, when he has stores of water under the mountain? If you’re here, now, I give you credit for resisting Uof’s future. On the other hand, if you betray this group, I promise I will deal with you myself, and it will not be quick.”

  I let my words hang in the air.

  “Now let’s begin,” I said after a moment. “Bend and I will meet with you one at a time in the next room, and we’ll start with you.”

  I pointed to the man with bulky arms who looked like a blacksmith, and he grinned broadly through his beard, standing up.

  Bend and I sat down at a table in the next room and the blacksmith entered and sat down across from us. On the table, I’d placed a pile of rocks ready for use. I grabbed his hand in greeting, and his fingers made mine feel child-sized.

  “What’s your name?” I asked him, with a friendly grin.

  “Greer,” he said. “I do ironwork here in the city, and Dirk tapped me to make weapons for the resistance. However, I haven’t made much of anything since we began, as we’ve been too busy trying to build bolt holes and tunnels, and recruit new members without getting anyone killed.”

  “I understand,” I replied. “Greer, I’m glad to be with you. Has anyone ever tested you in the Way?”

  “Not that I know of,” he said. “But listen Mage, I need you to know. I trust each and every one of the folks here. They’ve been with our group for years, all of ’em. Except for this new one, Briar.”

  “I know, Greer,” I said. “We will be careful. But we also need men with us and Briar did not stop our escape from the prison block. He’s pledged his allegiance to Dirk and to the resistance. We will take many more risks like this one in the days to come. In war, we must take risks to move ahead. We’ll all have to keep our eyes on him and the other new members who will soon join us. Fair?”

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  Greer nodded. “Fair enough Mage.”

  “Okay then,” I said. “Now, I’m going to start off simple with a spell meant to draw out your own inherent spark. This is the first spell I was taught, and it is the simplest in The Way. Usually, it will only take someone a few minutes to learn how to do this if they have the spark inside them. Understand?”

  He nodded. He seemed uncertain, but I kept my voice calm and even. I always tried to treat this spell like a meditation, allowing the user to feel it and breath through it.

  “Good,” I said. “Now, hold your hands straight out, palms toward the ceiling.”

  He raised up his massive arms, turning palms up. Bend watched curiously. I wondered if this was the way he had been first tested. Every mage had their own ways of testing and often learned different schools of thought on how to draw out the spark in others.

  I looked Greer in the eyes, speaking calmly.

  “Hold that form for a moment and seek your own inner spark,” I told him. “It might feel like a burning inside you, a tiny core from which you derive power. Find that spark and direct it to your hands. Don’t think about it; just allow it to happen. Yes.”

  Greer nodded again, a little bit unsure. Then he screwed up his eyes and seemed to concentrate.

  “Find that feeling, that spark, that energy inside yourself. Direct that energy to your hands from inside you. As you do that, simultaneously, I want you to try to tap into The Well. This is the source of all magic in the world. It is outside of you but all around us. Draw on that source with your hands, almost like you are pulling energy down from the sky. You’re doing both things all at once, drawing energy form within and pulling energy from the Well.”

  The bulky man with the burly hands sat there, his arms outstretched, his face a mask of uncertainty as he grappled with this strange task. I watched him as he gritted his teeth for a moment, seeking something, and feeling something happening perhaps.

  “Can you feel anything yet?” I asked him. “It may not make sense at first, and that’s okay, Greer. Don’t try to understand what is happening, just follow your instincts. Let it happen.”

  He nodded, and I saw him relax a bit, his brow un-furrowing.

  “Good,” I said. “Keep directing your own internal spark to your hands, while drawing energy from the source outside yourself. Now, slowly bring your hands toward one another.”

  He looked up at me for a moment. I saw the beginnings of something happening between his hands.

  I continued. “Now, slowly, turn your palms to face one another. Don’t allow your hands to touch. Build up the energy you’ve been drawing—and force those dual energies toward one another between your hands.

  I quieted my voice now, as I saw his concentration focus in. Even he could sense now that something was happening, even though he couldn’t see it. He had begun to feel it. His eyes lit up a bit.

  “In a moment, I will ask you to spark those energies by clapping your hands together, but not yet. Not yet, Greer. Just let it build. Build up those energies and allow them to grow. Feel it happening.”

  Greer held his hands close together, palms facing each other without touching, and as the look of concentration grew on his face, small beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He looked to me once again.

  “Concentrate on the space between your hands. Don’t watch me,” I said gently.

  I took a small rock from the table and with a quick wave of my hands, I drained its matter into the air. Bend watched me closely. Then I gently whirled the matter into the space between Greer’s hands giving him the final piece he would need to make this simple spell work.

  “Now, clap your hands together, pushing all the energy you sense into a single moment, a single space in time. Do itnow.”

  Greer stared at the space between his hands for a moment longer. I could tell that the man felt something happening, as he quickly brought his hands together in a large clap.

  WHAM!

  A fireball the size of the stump of a tree erupted from Greer’s hands, launching up toward the earthen ceiling in a burst of heat and light and fire. I waved my hands gently and the flames quenched before they reached the ceiling.

  Greer leaped back in shock, kicking over his chair, his eyes wide. He was breathing hard now, especially after several minutes of intense concentration.

  “What in the bloody hell?” he shouted with a grin. “Did you do that mage?”

  “No, you did that, Greer” I said to him with a half-smile.

  Bend’s eyes went wide as he looked over at me and smiled. He knew what this meant. A shiver thrilled up my spine, making the hair on my arms stand.

  “Greer, that spell combination is simply meant to create a tiny spark,” I said. “It’s one way that some mages start a fire, or how they might begin a more complicated spell utilizing fire. You drew energy enough for two-thirds of the spell, and I helped you finish it off.”

  “Bloody hell is right,” Bend said, in awe.

  “A fair mage would see a spark the kind you might see between two clashing swords,” I said. “Greer, you managed to generate a large ball of fire, which means not only do you have the spark, you will become far more than a fair mage. Judging on what I just saw, you’re one of the most powerful mages I’ve ever come across. Did you know you had the spark?”

  Greer shook his head, a sheepish grin on the big man’s face.

  “I’ve got a lot to teach you in the coming days,” I told him seriously. “Are you ready to learn how to use this gift?”

  The big man looked like a child who’d just discovered a treasure chest.

  “I am ready,” he said with wide excited eyes. “I guess that means I’m going to learn this Way you spoke of earlier?”

  “Greer, you are going to become a mage of The Way of the Mark. And I’ll teach you everything I can to prepare you for the battles to come.”

  Over the course of the day, we tested the rest of the group, including Dirk, who had been tested before by the previous mage who worked with the resistance. Like most of the others, Dirk lacked the spark. I had Bend do the majority of the testing, as I was spent from my spell casting the night before.

  However, in addition to Greer and Bend, out of the many people who came to us throughout the day, we found four more who possessed the spark at a fair enough level, meaning that each of them was able to generate the small spark I had initially expected to see from Greer. These included Briar, the prisoner with the knotted hair, an outgoing woman named Willow, a longtime veteran fighter of the resistance called Shade, and a teenager called Ehren.

  As we finished our testing, I nearly pinched myself that I’d found so many people who could become mages in a resistance group this small. I tried to reason it out. There was a decidedly higher concentration of mages in this group than was normally found in the general population.

  Why?

  In some ways, the concentration of persecution of The Way here in Vale naturally made for a larger resistance than I’d found elsewhere. But why was the concentration of mages higher? I didn’t know. Perhaps these rebels were somehow descended from others who had followed The Way of the Mark? If so, it could be in their very blood?—?no one actually knew for sure if the gift transferred from parents to children.

  However it had happened, I was happy to have them with us.

  Of course, Bend was the most learned, having studied The Way before his first master was captured by Uof’s men. Greer was by far the most powerful of the group, stronger even than myself for the intensity of his spark. Shade was the most adept and best trained warrior of them all.

  Six potential mages to train, which is more than I’d ever found previously in any group of rebels anywhere in the world.

  A month ago, I wouldn’t have believed it. I could potentially pass on everything I knew and revive The Way of the Mark itself.

  Our fighting force, and also our eyes and ears in the city, were to be roughly forty-five men and women strong. Not a fearsome fighting force, but a group that could be focused and deadly with precision tactics.

  “I will begin training the mages tomorrow,” I told Dirk as we sat reviewing the day’s results later that evening. “This is a strong group to start with.”

  “And I will begin drilling the soldiers myself,” Dirk replied, his face serious. “I’ll assign a small group to gather supplies and weapons. We’ll all need weapons to use and more places to hide our efforts.”

  “Good. Searches are going to increase and The Motorized will make our lives more difficult than ever before,” I said. “Especially as we begin to move out into the city and make our presence felt. So a place outside the city where we can test various spells and tactics would probably be best. I do have a more specific question too: How many men are in Uof’s army?”

  “We believe that he has on the order of one thousand motorized,” Dirk said. “But not all of those are trained or disciplined enough to put up much of a fight. His core fighters we believe to be about one hundred strong, but we don’t know for sure. Also, we have additional holes being dug throughout the city as we speak, and my men will increase that effort in earnest. We’re already scouting outside the city too.”

  “We must keep recruiting additional rebels as well,” I said. “The more mages and soldiers we can add to our ranks, risky though it is, the better off we’ll be.”

  “We can begin that tomorrow,” Dirk said. “Do you really think we have enough manpower to go up against Uof?”

  “No, not yet,” I said. “Our mages won’t be ready for weeks, but your army should begin training with weapons as soon as possible. We should lay low after our recent attack on the prison. But we can prepare in earnest.”

  “Of course, Mage,” he said. “We also know where most of Uof’s army barracks are located, if we want to target them specifically.”

  “We may not be ready to take on an army directly,” I said. “But we can certainly sow chaos in their ranks as we set up bigger plans. Also, do we know where Uof himself is headquartered? I’d love to get eyes on him.”

  “I will set men to scout the northern reaches, higher in the mountains,” Dirk said. “For years, we’ve heard tell of Uof living in the high Keep above the city, but as I told you before, no one has seen him in a decade.”

  Some small plans were starting to come together in my mind. Nothing concrete yet, but ideas were forming.

  “One more thing,” I said. “I’ve long wondered about the motorized weapons themselves. How do they actually work? They appear to be steam-powered, but it also seems clear they also draw on The Well —as the rarer the weapon, often the stronger it is.”

  “Many of the weapons are unique, different,” Bend spoke up, clearly he’d been listening in. “We know that much. This leads me to suspect that somehow it ties into the Law of Commonality.”

  I nodded. “We’ve long suspected a connection of some kind. But every time we tried to break down one of the weapons the inner workings were impossible to discern.”

  “We’ll acquire several of The Motorized weapons and tools so we can test them out and inspect them more closely,” Dirk said.

  “Good,” I replied. “Tomorrow we begin the real training.”