The Chronicles Of Ixia (Books 1-6). Maria V. Snyder
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parcels as I walked to Bain’s tower.
Opening the door to his study, I started to ask Bain about the arriving students, but stopped when I saw he had two visitors.
From behind his desk, Bain gestured me in. “Yelena, these are my students. Dax Greenblade, a fellow apprentice, and Gelsi Moon, a novice.” With an open hand, he pointed to each in turn.
They nodded in greeting. Their serious expressions looked out of place on such young faces. I guessed that Dax was eighteen years old, while the girl must have been about fifteen.
“Have you chosen another student, Master Bloodgood?” Gelsi asked. She tugged absently on the white lace at the end of her sleeve. Violet and white swirls patterned both her blouse and long skirt.
“No, Yelena is working with another,” Bain said.
I had to suppress a grin as each relaxed. Dax flashed me a smile.
Gelsi, though, seemed intrigued with me. “Who is your mentor?” she asked.
“Irys … ah … Master Jewelrose.”
The two students seemed as surprised as I had been when Bain told me about Irys.
“What’s your clan?” Gelsi asked.
“Zaltana.”
“Another distant cousin of Leif’s?” Dax asked. “You’re a little old to start training. What strange power do you have?”
His tone implied curiosity and humor, but Bain said, “Dax, that’s inappropriate. She’s Leif’s sister.”
“Ahhhh …” Dax studied me with keen interest.
“Do we have a lesson this morning?” I asked Bain.
The magician perked up at my question. He instructed Dax to go unpack, but he asked Gelsi to remain. Her heart-shaped face paled for a moment before she steadied herself, smoothing her shoulder-length copper curls.
“I fear Irys will be back soon and reclaim you,” Bain said to me with a smile. “Gelsi’s focus for this semester is to learn how to communicate magically with other magicians. Irys has told me this is your strongest ability. Therefore, I would like your assistance with introducing this skill to my student.”
Gelsi’s eyes widened. Her long thick eyelashes touched her brows.
“I’ll do what I can,” I said.
Bain rummaged through one of his desk’s drawers and pulled a small burlap sack from it. He set the bag on the desk and opened it, taking out two brown lumps.
“We’ll use Theobroma for the first lesson,” he said.
The lumps triggered memories of my time in Ixia. Theobroma was the southern name for Criollo, a delicious sweet that had the unfortunate effect of opening a person’s mind to magical influences. General Brazell had used the nutty flavored dessert to bypass the Commander’s strong will so Brazell’s magician, Mogkan could gain control of the Commander’s mind.
Bain handed me one of the Theobroma pieces and he gave the other to Gelsi. Then he told us to sit in the two chairs that faced each other. While I would have enjoyed eating the mouth-coating sweet, I thought it unnecessary.
“Can we try without it first?” I asked.
Bain’s bushy gray eyebrows rose as he considered my question. “You don’t need it to make an initial connection?”
I thought about the different people and horses I had linked with. “So far, no.”
“All right. Yelena, I want you to try to connect with Gelsi.”
Dredging some energy from my tired body, I pulled a thread of power and directed it to the girl, projecting my awareness to her. I sensed her apprehension about working with this strange woman from Ixia in her mind.
Hello, I said.
She jumped in shock.
To help her relax I said, I was born in the Illiais Jungle. Where did you grow up?
Gelsi formed an image of a small village wrapped in fog in her mind. We reside in the foothills of the Emerald Mountains. Every morning our house is enveloped in the mist from the mountains.
I showed her my parents’ dwelling in the trees. We “talked” about siblings. A middle child, Gelsi, had two older sisters and two younger brothers, but she was the only one in her family to develop magical powers.
Bain watched us in silence, then he interrupted, “Break the connection now.”
Sapped of energy, I dragged my awareness back.
“Gelsi, it is your turn to make contact with Yelena.”
She closed her eyes, and I sensed her seeking my mind. All I would need to do was tug on her awareness.
“Do not help her,” Bain warned me.
Instead, I kept my mind open, but she failed to reach me.
“Not to worry,” Bain consoled her. “The first time is the hardest. That is why we use Theobroma.”
Bain’s gray eyes studied me with kindness. “We will try again another time. Gelsi, go unpack and get settled.”
After she left Bain’s tower, he said, “No doubt you wore yourself out yesterday. Hayes mentioned something to me. Tell me what happened,” he instructed.
I told him about the pain and the power. “It seems I don’t have full control yet,” I offered, waiting to see if he would chastise me. If my actions had truly been an uncontrolled burst, I knew the other Master Magicians would have felt it. And certain that Roze would have acted without hesitation on that knowledge.
“A lesson learned,” Bain said. “Repairing injuries takes immense effort. Enough for today. I’ll see you tonight at the feast.”
The feast! I had forgotten. Again. “What should I …” I stopped, feeling awkward and silly to be asking about clothing.
Bain smiled in sympathy. “No expertise in that matter,” he said, seeming to read my mind. “Zitora will enjoy helping you. She’s at loose ends this year and will welcome some company.”
“I thought she was busy with Council business.”
“She is, but she’s transitioning from five years of being a student to being on her own. Having no time to be a mentor doesn’t mean she won’t have time to make a friend.”
I left Bain’s tower and headed toward Zitora’s in the northeast corner of the Keep. Lively groups filled the campus walkways and people hurried past me in every direction. My quiet walks through the Keep were at an end, yet I felt energized by all the activity.
Zitora greeted me with a bright smile that only dimmed when we discussed Tula’s condition. Talk eventually turned to the upcoming festivities, and I inquired about appropriate dress.
“The formal robes are only for the boring school functions,” Zitora said. “Do tell me you have something pretty to wear.”
When I shook my head, she transformed into a mother hen and set about finding me some clothes.
“Thank fate you’re my size,” Zitora said with glee.
Despite my protests, she dragged me up two flights to her bedroom and loaded my arms with dresses, skirts and lacy blouses. Zitora propped her hands on her hips, considering my boots. “Those will not do.”
“They’re comfortable and I can move easily in them,” I said.
“A challenge then. Mmm. I’ll be right back.”
She disappeared into another room, while I waited in her bedroom on the third floor of her tower. Soft pastel paintings of flowers hung on the walls. Oversize pillows graced her canopy bed. The room oozed comfort like open arms wrapping me in a