transvisualisation?’
‘I don’t care whether you believe me,’ said Teclis with superb arrogance. ‘I did it. I could do it again.’
Lady Malene stared at him for a very long time. ‘You are either a wonderful liar or the greatest natural mage who has ever lived.’
Later Tyrion was to remember that her words had the force of a prophecy.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
‘What am I to do with you?’ Lady Malene asked. She sounded as if she did not really know. She looked as if she had not slept since last night. Teclis had, the most peaceful and natural sleep he had enjoyed in many days.
‘I am not yours to do anything with,’ he said. Her manner made him nervous. He was glad Tyrion was not here in his room to witness this. He was not in her power exactly but she had something he wanted, knowledge, mastery of technique. It would be possible for him to teach himself magic based on what he had seen in the grimoires but she might well forbid him access to any more books. If that happened he would find a way to get them if he could, but they might stop him. In any case it would be a much longer and slower route to learning, and he wanted to learn magic the way an elf lost in a desert craves water.
‘Your life is,’ she said with some certainty. ‘At this moment.’
‘Is that a threat?’
‘No. I mean your path in life. I can teach you or I can report you to the Phoenix King’s palace and you will be restrained until after you have been tested.’
‘That is not fair.’
‘Life is not fair, Prince Teclis. I regret that you should have been introduced to this concept so young, but you are wise beyond your years so I am sure you will have no difficulty grasping it.
‘I do not require platitudes or irony.’
‘No. You require teaching – that much is obvious. You will experiment on your own if you do not get it or are not actively restrained. And to one of your power that could be very dangerous.’
‘I am not unaware of the dangers of magic.’
‘Fire will not hurt me, says the child who has never yet put his hand in the grate.’
‘I am not a child.’
‘Then do not behave like one and do not sound so petulant. You know nothing of the dangers of magic... Nothing! One of your power can so easily do so many things and do them wrong.’
‘Like what?’ He was more curious than angry now.
‘You could overdraw your power and burn it out forever. Believe me that is not a fate that anyone born to the Art would want. Death would be preferable.’
Teclis could see how that would be true, but he sensed a hesitation in her manner. There was something she was not telling him and did not want to. Of course, he had to know.
‘And?’
‘And what?’
‘What else could go wrong?’
‘Is that not enough?’
‘There are other dangers you are not mentioning.’
‘And should not, not until your studies are far more advanced than they are now.’
‘How can I avoid a danger when I do not know what it is? You say you fear what I might do. Help me avoid that.’
She looked at him warily and with something more like respect. To her, until that moment, he had been nothing but a gifted adolescent. She had never considered the possibility of treating him like an equal although she must have known she was going to have to one day. She seemed to come to a decision.
‘Very well. For your own good I will tell you. Heed my words and heed them well – for not just your life but your soul might depend on them.’
He felt a thrill then, and not the one she expected him to feel. He was on the verge of dark and secret knowledge and he felt its unrelenting tug. It was something he knew had power over him and likely always would. Perhaps he thought this was how the Curse of Aenarion worked on him.
‘Speak,’ he said.
‘There is something about working the Art that draws the attention of daemons. There is something about the souls of those who can use magic that attracts them, something daemons desire the way an epicure craves larks’ tongues in honey. If your soul is not properly warded, if you cast a spell unthinkingly and without protecting yourself, you can draw their evil to you.’
‘That is the sort of superstition that humans believe,’ Teclis