Snake Heart (Chains of Honor #2) -Lindsay Buroker Page 0,62

or nearby water that you can get your hands on. I know you can manipulate air. You made that barrier.” She raised her eyebrows.

Yes, the barrier that had kept her lightning from striking his friends. It chilled him to think he was calmly chatting with someone who had tried to kill his comrades, people she had never met. Granted, they had been invaders on her ship, but Yanko couldn’t imagine waving a hand and obliterating people, invaders or not.

“I have tried to do both at the same time,” he said. “I imagine I could. I’ve moved the flame to light candles.”

She smiled faintly. “Are they still doing that tired old test for the Stargrind entrance exams?”

“Yes.”

“You know it’s easier just to start eight fires atop the wicks rather than moving your torch around the obstacles, right?”

“I thought of that about five minutes after I finished the test.” After he failed the test.

“Ah.”

Pey Lu leaned forward, draping her elbows on her thighs. “We’ll do some practice with fire outside later. Here’s what you need to know that the books don’t tell you.”

Yanko found himself leaning forward, his gaze locked to hers. He’d always been told that there were no secrets, that everything was earned through long hours of practice and hard work. Was she going to offer some counter advice?

“You don’t need to master everything. You can’t. Nobody can. You pick five or six versatile skills that have thousands of applications, and you learn them so well that you can do them like this.” She snapped her fingers several times, and balls of fire appeared in the air above her hand, then danced about. “No thought required. Unconscious mastery.”

“Is that all you had when you fought in the war?” Yanko asked, not sure he believed her. “Five or six skills?”

“I had three skills that I was any good at.” She smirked. “But I was gods-blessed good at them. Because I did them over and over, practicing obsessively. A lot of mages and students get bored and want to explore other aspects of their discipline, but the very fact that most mages only specialize in one discipline for an entire life demonstrates how important it is to practice.”

“What were your three skills?”

“Fireballs, air for defense, and telekinetics for manipulating and lifting matter at a great distance. I got so good at that last one that I could lift an enemy ship and its crew out of the water and dump it on its side.”

Yanko thought of the wrecked ships they had left behind, Sun Dragon’s new fleet, and wondered if she had done that in their battle.

“Something like that leaves an impression on people, enemies and allies,” Pey Lu said. “You get enough of a reputation and people don’t even want to pick a fight with you or your ship. Unless they’re idiots.” Her lip curled. Maybe she was thinking of Sun Dragon too. “You’re young and curious, and you want to be creative and original with your magic, and I understand that, but trust me on this: master three things, maybe the same three that I did, and you’ll find that the best wizards in the world can’t beat you. Eventually, you’ll get good enough to combine your skills and do them at the same time. A lot of pedants say you can’t do that, but you can. Fireballs are an example of that, but it’s possible to attack and defend at the same time too. Some say it isn’t. I’ll show you how it is. It’s still a good idea to have a bodyguard, but you won’t be defenseless if you don’t have one.”

Yanko caught himself nodding every other sentence, excitement starting to build within him. He knew he couldn’t forget about his mission, and that he had to escape if he could, but he wanted to try what she was talking about. He hadn’t realized how badly he had wanted a mentor his whole life, someone who had power and experience and truly knew of what she spoke, not some doddering old mage, wandering the hills and peddling his wares for a few coins here and there.

“Why did you leave?” he whispered.

He hadn’t meant to let the question slip out, nor would he have wished the words to be so soft and full of emotion. It seemed to surprise Pey Lu, too, who had been lecturing in a very matter-of-fact tone.

She leaned back in the chair, stroking her chin as she regarded him. “Does it matter? After all these