Pokrewne

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Chelsea Handler Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang (epub
Brit Brinson [Dia of the Dead Dia of the Dead (epub)
Cody Goodfellow [Radiant Dawn Radiant Dawn (epub)
Cate Tiernan [Immortal Belove Immortal Beloved (epub)
C J Busby [Deep Amber 01] Deep Amber (retail) (epub)
Carl Ashmore [Time Hunters 01 The Time Hunters (epub)
Drew Hayes [Super Powereds 02 Super Powereds Year 2 (epub) i
Beth Harbison [Shoe Addict 02 Secrets of a Shoe Addict (epub)
Cara Lynn Shultz [Dark World The Dark World (retail) (epub)
Brieanna Robertson Beyond Wild Imaginings [Amira]

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.A wildfire in the summer could be deadly to Lerdenia and Daezun alike.Once they were in the wagon and back on the road, Henrick handed Alador an old tin cup full of dirt from beside their fire.It even had a fish bone in it.He tossed the bone out, then looked in the cup again.“What’s this for?” Alador asked curiously.“We start with a cantrip that should be strengthened by the stone you harvested.Each mage has to find his own method of using small bits of power.Some sing, others hum, some use magic words, and some use motions.The truth is none of this is necessary for simple spells.It is whatever helps you grab onto that feeling of power in the pit of your gut and focuses it through your will.I want you to practice finding that center of power within you and focus it enough to dampen the dirt in the cup,” Henrick instructed as the wagon slowly jostled and rattled its way up the road.Alador took the cup and stared at it.He imagined the dirt growing damp, but nothing happened.He frowned.He knew the feeling Henrick talked about; he’d felt it when he practiced at the river’s edge.But he also had to get angry to draw power…No, that wasn’t entirely true.He wasn’t angry when he shot a bow and the target seemed to jump to him.Alador considered the cup carefully and tried to feel for his power.His father said nothing as the wagon lumbered along, letting Alador solve this puzzle for himself.Alador looked up as the trail narrowed and brought them closer to the river, between a cliff face and the riverbank.He looked up the cliff and saw several large nests, belonging to the ferath that lived here, large birds that sustained themselves and their nests with fish.Their calls were eerie and reminded Alador of tales of ghosts calling in the night.The sun was fully shining on them now, and the day was already warm.The river twisted its way south, shining in the bright light.Alador sighed remembering his task, and went back to focusing on his cup of dirt.He couldn’t find that pit of magic again, though.He wiggled his fingers over the cup, but the only thing he felt was embarrassment as Henrick looked over and grinned.He cursed inwardly at the dry cup of dirt.Frustrated, he looked up at the call of a ferath and thought he saw something in its nest.His focused in on the nest as he did targets in the field, then realized that he had felt that pull within him.The nest appeared closer and glimmered with some piece of metal the ferath had stolen.Alador looked back down at the cup.He’d felt that magic.He closed his eyes, seeking that feeling again.As he did so, he absently ran his finger around the lip of the cup.Slowly, he found a small glimmer of the strange pull.He felt… something… like a string inside of him that stretched from his core to his fingers.He focused on it and imagined the dirt becoming wet.He jumped when his father spoke.“Very good.” Henrick lounged with the reins in one hand and his pipe in the other.The wagon still lumbered along the road.Alador looked down at the cup just as a strange fog dissipated from it; the dirt on top was damp.He grinned triumphantly, he’d done it.He’d pulled magic without having to be angry.Henrick took the cup from him and scooped out the top layer of dampened dirt.“Do it again,” he stated softly.Alador took the cup and frowned at his father.“Why?” he asked.He’d done what he was told; he wanted to learn something more useful than just making dirt wet.Henrick puffed smoke into a ring before he answered, “Took you too long.”Alador sighed softly and worked to do it again…and again, and again, continuing this exercise throughout the day.He would dampen the dirt, and his father would scoop out the wet layer.Whenever Alador complained, his father would state that he was taking too long.Finally, when Alador was at his wits end, he thrust the cup at Henrick.“You do it then!” The dirt had dampened within seconds this last time.His head was pounding and he truly just wanted to close his eyes.Henrick took the cup and then just handed it back to Alador.He did not say any words or make any motion, but when Alador looked down at the dirt in the cup, it was bone dry.Alador looked up at his father in amazement.“How did you do that?”“Practice, Alador.Could you shoot a bow with any accuracy when you first learned?” Henrick pulled the korpen over to a small widening of the road where the cliff ledge high above cast some shade against the sun, near a patch of grass for the korpen.Alador was grateful for the stop to stretch his legs, but he realized that he was tired and starving.“Well, no.” He understood what his father was saying, though: he had to practice just lining up the arrow before he could even begin to worry about being able to shoot.“It is a matter of honing your ability to just feel that center of magic whenever you wish.More complicated spells will require more energy.In a battle, you cannot worry about the time it takes you to find that center.You have to be able to touch it without thought.It needs to be as habitual as breathing.” Henrick also hopped down.“Get something to eat.You have been at it for some time, and I need to send a message to my brother.”Alador started to say something about that, but then realized that with the automatic ease his father had when drying the cup, he probably had whatever magic he needed to send a simple message.Alador moved around to the back of the wagon and grabbed some cheese and fruit, then walked to the water and sat on a rock to eat.The mist cast off by the river felt welcome against the summer heat.He looked around, appreciating his surroundings and realizing that he really loved this land.A lump formed in his throat as he realized he was going to leave it.Silverport was on the coast, where there would be nothing but fog and rain, where everything would be green and damp.Alador gazed across the sheer cliffs that were streaked with the red of iron, or spattered with white.The white powder that formed at the edges of the river gave more evidence of the minerals here.He watched as a ferath dove into deeper water and came up with a wiggling fish [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]