41. BECOMING SPELLCASTERS

  I replaced the notebook in a large pocket inside my cloak and stood up, feeling the sweat evaporate from my forehead. The heat had increased considerably as the afternoon sun rose and cooked the desert.

  Taking my staff with me for support, I followed Dirk to where Bend lay in bed in the back room.

  Jame and Keven, the healer mage, sat before Bend who lay prone on the makeshift bed, watching him. Bend was drenched in sweat, his eyes closed though he did seem conscious.

  “Bend,” I said when I finally stood before him. “Can you hear me?”

  He opened his eyes. The mad gleam that was there in his eyes only hours ago, was gone. He looked into my eyes and his face melted with shame.

  “Mage, I don’t know what to say . . . ” he trailed off.

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  “No, I must say it,” he replied. “I am so sorry.”

  “Stop,” I broke in. “You’ve been beaten and tortured. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t know how that would have affected you. All is forgiven. Is he okay, Keven?”

  The healer mage looked up at me, his eyes red and bloodshot, his face pale and thin—he was obviously in need of sleep.

  “I've cleansed the majority of the mages here and they were worse off. Bend here, wasn’t nearly so bad. He hadn’t been subjected to the torture and training for years. I’ve gotten it all out of him. Though it cost me every last bit of energy I had, he is cleansed of their stain forever.”

  “Go and get some rest,” I told him. “And thank you, Keven.”

  Keven nodded and left the room. Bend came up to a sitting position on the bed. His face looked tired as well, but suddenly, his eyes showed an enthusiasm that revealed a surprising strength. He looked at me full in the face and smiled, tears now streaming down his cheeks.

  Then his face grew steely-eyed.

  “How can we change what is happening?” Bend asked. “There must be a way.”

  “I have a new plan,” I said.

  “Do we need to destroy everything in Vale, kill all of them?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “We just need to cut off the head.”

  “How?”

  “I’m going to teach you all how to cast some new spells.”

  He nodded, seeming resolved.

  That day Bend rejoined our ranks. Greer and Shade, Jame, and the others welcomed him with open arms at dinner that night.

  We spent the evening eating together and laughing, drinking and talking about where we each came from. Some of the Factory mages talked about the villages or towns they’d lived in earlier in their lives. Many had lost family or friends in Motorized attacks, or even friendlier forces, local town magistrates acting secretly on behalf of Vale.

  Some of these men and women had even served as the mage of their town or village, once a respected figure who lived to serve. The town's mage was the one who conjured spells, healed townsfolk, and helped the community solve problems with flocks or predators or crops or illnesses.

  I felt sparks of joy in the room as candlelight danced on the walls, and as we sought to know each other better. It was a slow evening, and perhaps we enjoyed all the more knowing that soon we would engage a fight—one that we might not survive.

  There was something else too. In each of the faces around the table, I sensed the courage to hope. Just a scattering of it, but more than enough to fight a war.

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  The next morning, I hobbled out to meet with the Mages. Dirk would begin training his fighters in some exercises focused on swordplay and hand-to-hand tactics focused on fighting Motorized most of whom wielded ranged crossbows and similar weapons. Some rebel fighters had come from the city to join us in the past day or two, adding to our meager ranks, so he had thirty-five or so men and women to prepare for the fight ahead.

  Many of the resistance fighters had once been bricklayers, tailors, shopkeepers, or businessmen of one kind or another, so they had very little battle training, though we'd tried to change that in the past few weeks and months.

  The Mages, on the other hand, were a very diverse bunch.

  I knew I had a group of Factory mages who ranged from apprentices who could only really perform a few mediocre spells, to Spellcasters and experienced mages who could command an arsenal. Some of our mages had even mastered the art of creating their own spells before they'd been captured by the Motorized. Then, of course, there was a small group of brand-new Mages, who I’d only begun training in the past months.

  Roughly forty-five to fifty mages stood together on the plain before me, a sight unimaginable only months before. As I hobbled toward them, still using my staff to hold me up, they stood in a group on the plains, talking amongst themselves.

  “Mages of The Way,” I called out, stopping in front of them. “Today, you begin to walk the path of a Spellcaster. Spellcasters, as you may know, are mages who can weave their own new spells from scratch. And why is that important?”

  “No one knows a spell if it is new,” one young mage called out, one of our new additions from Vale.

  “Correct, and…?” I said.

  “You can catch people by surprise with a new spell?” he replied, sounding a little less confident.

  “Someone else?” I stepped to an old stump and sat, and I laid my staff down on the ground.

  “New spells are more powerful, because no one else knows them,” Shade replied.

  “Right,” I said. “In fact, the most powerful a spell will ever be, is right after it has been created by the Spellcaster. Once the spell is known by one other person, that spell loses a minute amount of power—it's a small loss, one you may not even notice. Who can tell me why?”

  They looked at each other for a moment.

  “The Law of Commonality,” Shade said again. “The more mages who know a spell, the less powerful it will be.”

  “Right.” I looked out at the group, “Today I’m going to teach you all how to create a spell from scratch. It will take time and focus to do it right. Then, I will tell you what kind of spells we need to create. Each of you will create your own new spell, each of which will aid us in the coming battle. We will be significantly outnumbered, so every advantage we gain becomes of great importance. You will tell no one how your spell works. You will keep it entirely to yourself. Understand?”

  The group nodded almost as one. The younger mage who'd spoken up earlier looks positively excited.

  “Before we start, some of you are new to our ranks, and may have knowledge we do not. One thing we have made no progress in discovering, is the source of the legendary weakness of the Way. Do any of you mages from The Factory have any information about the weakness to which we are all susceptible?

  The factory mages shook their heads. No one spoke up.

  “Oh well,” I said. “It was worth a try I guess. Alright, so, we’re also going to need more rare matter. Anyone want to share why, for those who may not yet know?”

  No one spoke at first. Eventually, Shade sighed and answered the question again.

  “The Scale of Rarity,” she said. “The rarer the matter, the more powerful the spell will be in its casting.”

  “Good Shade,” I said. “Is anyone seeing a theme here yet?”

  Greer nodded, grumbling the answer. “Rarity equals power. ”

  “Yes, that's right,” I replied.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw young Percy sitting nearby, our sneaky little spy. He and a couple other boys in their early teens, or younger, were listening in on our discussion with some interest.

  “Percy!” I called out. The young man actually knelt in the dirt, getting his hands dirty with something.

  “Can you and some of the other boys take on an important mission for me?” I asked him. His eyes lit up through the shaggy bangs of his mousy brownish-blonde hair.

  “Of course Mage, sir!" he replied.

  “This won’t be an easy mission,” I said.

  “What is it?” he said, scampering over to where I sat on the wooden stump. Two other boys came up behind him, smiling.

  “We're going to need every piece of rare matter you can lay your hands on,” I said. “Which means, gold, rubies, diamonds, jewelry, necklaces, ivory, and any other unique stones you haven’t seen before. Even metals and alloys will be helpful. If you can steal or take or borrow any Motorized weapons, tools, cycles, or wagons, those will help us as well. I want you to start the biggest crime wave ever seen in Vale. Do you understand?”

  Percy nodded seriously.

  “I’m giving you three days to gather up as much rare matter as you can find, " I said. I looked him in the eyes. "Percy. This mission is vital to our coming battle with Uof and The Motorized. Can you do it?”

  “Yes sir, Mage’n, sir," Percy replied, the other boys nodding behind him. "It will be done.”

  He scurried off with the other boys.

  Those scruffy urchins were likely to start a crime wave in Vale that would alarm the people, and alert both Uof and Ruath to our need for matter. And that was fine with me.