Chapter Two: Magic Lessons
“Still four more days in this damn forest…” Toomay muttered as she rolled up her sleeping sack. The weak morning sun could just be seen through the dense canopy, and the chill of the forest floor remained unhindered by the sun’s dim rays. Toomay shivered as she tacked up Duncan, working quickly to warm up her sore muscles.
“Come on, Toomay, if we hurry we could cut that down to just three days,” Keyar comforted, already swinging himself into the saddle.
“Easy for you to say, you’ve already been up for hours!” Toomay snapped as she tightened Duncan’s cinch. The stallion squealed indignantly as Toomay roughly yanked the leather strap tight.
“Swiftness doesn’t require rough hands,” Duncan spat at her as she stuck her foot into the stirrup. Toomay rolled her eyes as he shook his head and laid back his delicate ears.
Elio snorted, “You really have become a fat, spoiled pony.”
Duncan bared his teeth at the other stallion as their riders pushed them back towards the riverbank. The horses quieted as they began to pick their way along the bank, avoiding rocks and skirting the scarce trees that tried to grow along the rocky beach.
Toomay leaned onto Duncan’s neck, smoothing his mane and whispering in his sensitive ears; “Sorry.”
“It’s all right, princess,” Duncan replied before returning his focus to traversing the bank. Toomay nodded and leaned back in the saddle, stretching her legs down into the stirrups and relaxing her upper body so it moved with Duncan’s every step.
The four of them continued for a few hours in silence, enjoying the growing sun’s warmth and the comforting songs from many of the forest birds. Toomay smiled as a buzz too loud for a bumblebee grew beside her ear. A brilliantly colored hummingbird flitted about Toomay’s head, squeaking excitedly about forest news before she sped across the river and disappeared.
“Once we reach the Unabid border, what are we going to do?” Toomay asked as she returned to the thoughts that had begun to haunt her since they had entered the forest.
“We find a guide who will take us across the desert to Dessidia, the capital,” Keyar replied effortlessly. He had thought this through for weeks before he had announced his departure.
“But how will we find the mines?” Toomay shuddered at the thought of those horrid mines, Lionel’s factory for wealth. She tried to banish the images of thousands of slaves being whipped as they hacked away at rock with rusty picks, trying to find even the slightest amount of gold.
“We’ll snoop around Dessidia, ask around. Surely someone’s tongue can be loosened with a few gilders and some spirits.”
The two fell silent for a few minutes, each losing themselves in their own thoughts. Keyar thought of the past six months he had spent in Amorak. The months that had made it so hard for him to decide whether or not to go on this journey.
He had loved Amorak, the people and the wolves, the surrounding mountains fringed with green forests. And the feeling of security and family. A precious feeling he hadn’t enjoyed since he was ten.
Days in Amorak had been filled with archery, swordplay, exploring, horseback riding, hunting, and talking with Kumar, Toomay, Jeera, Airies, Pitch, Raven, and all of the others he had met there. He smiled to himself as countless memories ran through his mind’s eye. Yet, at the back of each of those memories, was a shadow. The shadow of guilt. It was what had finally eaten away at those memories and entered Keyar’s conscious thoughts, plaguing him with haunted whispers about his sisters. It had said horrible things. And those things now echoed in Keyar’s mind as he sat comfortably on top of Elio, bathed in morning sunlight, and drinking in his own freedom.
“How much money did you bring, Keyar?” Toomay’s voice broke through his thinking, as it seemed to often do.
Keyar cleared his head before replying, “All that I have.”
Toomay turned in the saddle and gave him a glance.
Keyar sighed, “Twenty trebs.”
She inhaled sharply, “Twenty trebs? Will we need that much?”
“You never know.”
Then she laughed, “I brought the same amount.”
“What? You mean that between the two of us we have forty trebs? That’s…that’s ten thousand gilders!”
“I guess we’re prepared.”
Keyar fell silent, the shadow of guilt growing slightly larger.
“Keyar…you have more than twenty trebs, you know that, right?”
“What?” He looked up, frowning at the very idea.
“You saved Jeera, and quite possibly mine and my brother’s life. The city of Amorak has existed and prospered for thousands of years, its treasury is overflowing. And I know that Garnier designated a vault for you, its been filled with many things, rewards for your service. But that’s not all, if and when Kumar becomes king, he’s promised that you’ll receive more. Titles, land, wealth…anything you want.”
Keyar didn’t reply. The crunch of gravel beneath the horses’ hooves seemed loud enough to deafen a dragon as they continued along the gurgling river.
“So, I’m rich?” Keyar asked abruptly. Toomay turned to meet his gaze.
“Very much so.”
“I have more than twenty trebs,” Keyar said. He didn’t know whether he liked that or not. Yet he knew that he would now definitely be able to take care of his sisters. If he found them.
They continued to travel for an hour or so, the sun, or the all mighty god Tatorak as most of Trebizond believed it was, always climbing higher in the blue sky.
Toomay’s mind wandered aimlessly, as it so often did during the endless days of travel. She thought of everything. Of now, of then, and of tomorrow. She thought of Kumar, back in Amorak, his arm around Lydia’s waist as they governed the city. She thought of Jeera, the white she wolf loping through the forests surrounding the city, her pink tongue lolling and her ears pricked. And she thought of Keyar, of when they had first met, in the lair of Lionel.
Toomay had been semi unconscious, her arms slung around both Kumar and Keyar’s shoulders as they watched Jeera battle Lionel to the death. At that particular moment, she hadn’t really cared who was supporting half of her body alongside her brother. But the day after, in Amorak palace, she had said hello and started their unique friendship that had ultimately led her to where she was sitting right now.
Duncan snorted as a snake slithered across his hoof. The horse jumped slightly, jarring Toomay back to the present. She gave Duncan’s neck a soothing stroke.
“Elio,” Toomay addressed the other stallion, “bring Keyar up here so we can start our magic lessons.” The stallion trotted up beside Duncan and fell into step with his companion. “You have money now Keyar, so its time for you to start your lessons under the wing of Sorceress Toomay.” She grinned mischievously as Keyar sighed. “Seriously, Keyar, try.”
“I will, I promise.”
“Good. Now the first thing you need to know is that your magic is as much a part of you as your hands, or your feet. It’s a fifth limb, an extension of your body. Remember when you reached into Jeera's body and grasped her heart with just your magic?”
Keyar nodded.
“You used it correctly, you used it like another arm.”
“But I could see where it was going.”
“You used a spell. I don’t know how you did it without training, but you used a sight spell. You see, naturally, your magic will come out of you and you can use it just like a hand. No spell is needed to reach out with your magic and grasp a rock,” Toomay explained. She spread her fingers in front of her, letting her magic spill out of her left hand. The substance flowed down to the ground. There it formed a hand and picked up a small pebble. Toomay pulled back her magic until the rock touched her fingertips. Swiftly, she snatched it up and opened her palm for Keyar to see.
“H-how…?”
“Once you can do this, I’ll teach you about spells.”
“But how did you reach out with it?” Keyar asked again, picking up the rock and holding it up in front of his green eyes.
Toomay smiled grimly as he examined the stone, fingering and prodding it with caution, “You have to first find where it hides in your mind. That is where your magic lives. Right here,” Toomay emphasized as she tapped her forehead with a finger, “Its like remembering memories, when you search for them and review them in your mind. You have to search for that corner where your magic hides. Then you have to mentally pull it from its corner. Bring it from the back of your mind to the front, then tug it down through whichever arm you wish and push it from your fingers. The first few times are extremely difficult, but once you perfect it, it’s as easy as…as wiggling your fingers.” Toomay wiggled her fingers with a grin.
He glared at her; “It sounds too easy.”
“Believe me, it isn’t. We have four days until we leave the forest. By then I want you to be able to draw the magic out. I want to see it flowing from your fingers. You may not be able to pick up a feather, let alone a rock with it, but I want to see it,” Toomay said firmly before she smiled again. “It’s funny.”
“What’s funny?”
“When we left Amorak, you were teaching me swordplay. I was the student; you were the teacher. How does it feel now that it’s the other way around?”
“Childish,” Keyar grumbled, “until you can knock my sword from my hand, I should still be the teacher.”
Swifter than a bolt of lightening, Toomay’s magic flew from her hands and shoved Keyar lightly off Elio. Keyar landed with a thud on the rocks. Moaning, he stood, scowling as the two horses kept on walking, whinnies of laughter booming from their great chests.
“Until you can knock me off my horse, young mage, I will be the teacher,” Toomay called, her voice light and bubbly as Keyar trotted to catch up.

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King Eeran sat upon his throne, his elbow propped on his knee and his muscled fist tucked under his stubbly chin. His luscious, rich brown curls just reached his broad jaw, framing his handsome face and creating a rich contrast between his olive complexion and dark eyes. A unique and slightly large nose breathed in the scent of the throne hall. Deep brown eyes gazed out from under perfect, thick brows and long lashes. Rather thin, pale lips were stretched into a hard, concentrated line. Atop the thick, bouncy curls rested a gold crown that was encrusted with rubies and emeralds. Eeran’s fit body was clothed in expensive silk. He wore a white gold, chain metal shirt overtop of a white, long sleeved, silk undergarment. A golden chain beneath his neck held a deep green cloak on his back. Leather trousers were creased from many hours of wear; equally worn boots stretched over top of the pants and were laced up to Eeran’s knees.
“Sire, Langarian raiders have been pillaging many of our border villages and word of a Natalby uprising has reached us.” An armor clad general stood before the stunning king, pacing below the marble dais that held him, with an air of arrogance and superiority. It infuriated Eeran.
“General, where is Natalby?” the rash, young king asked, trying to point out what should be so obvious.
The general faltered. “Sire?”
“Natalby is in the Northern Province. And what does that pathetic part of the country do for us? Fur trade? That trade is dead; silk is in demand, not fur. We can support ourselves without our northern brothers. Besides, we have more than enough soldiers here to defeat our enemies. There’s no need to waste them on a dead province.”
“But, sire, they are Trebizondian. We can’t just leave them without aide to fend off the Natalians. What of our northern women and children? Do we just leave them to be slaughtered? They have no leader up there-“
“This is where you are wrong, General. Do you think I have not heard of this so-called ‘true king’ that my people are flocking to? If he is such a great leader, maybe I should leave him to defend his own kingdom. Then we’ll see who is the better ruler.”

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“I don’t know what to do, Lydia,” Kumar sighed, as he smothered his face with his hands and rocked back on the edge of his bed, rubbing his aching temples with callused fingers. Lydia sat beside him, curling up by his shoulder and gently taking his hands in hers.
“That’s why you have me,” she replied, squeezing his hands. Kumar smiled at her, meeting her warm, honey-colored gaze. Her auburn hair cascaded down her back and her full heart shaped mouth smiled back at her husband. “Now, what’s bothering you?”
“Everything,” Kumar sighed again, his face creasing into a frown. Lydia tucked some of his blonde locks behind his ear lovingly and kissed the end of his nose.
“Worried about Toomay?”
“Yes and no. I know she’s safe with Keyar…” Kumar trailed off, rubbing the hair bracelet that still warmed his skin, the magic that bound it bringing him comfort that Toomay was alive and well, “Mostly, it’s New Castle and Amorak. We’re the closest two cities to the Natalby border. How are we supposed to defend ourselves when Eeran won’t send us soldiers? I’ve been sending messengers to Tatorak for months and everyone comes back bearing a letter that states no soldier can be spared for such forgotten cities as these.” Kumar stood up in his restlessness and began to pace about the marble room.
It was evening now and a cool evening breeze came through the open door that led to the balcony. It made the soft, silk curtains dance and billow gracefully. Their bedroom was one of the four that were built along the front of Amorak palace; the rest of the palace was located behind the bedrooms, built and carved right into the mountainside. Very few rooms had any windows, only the bedrooms along the front and a few meeting halls.
Kumar walked out the door, lightly pushing the curtains aside. He stopped at the hand carved, marble railing and rested his elbows upon its cool, smooth surface. He surveyed the city with forlorn eyes, letting the breeze wash over his bare arms and chest. His open chest tunic rippled in the wind as Kumar scrutinized the many new buildings that had sprung up over the past few months. The soft pad of bare feet halted as Lydia came to his side.
“My grandmother used to tell me stories, stories that her grandmother told her,” Lydia said as she linked arms with him. “She told me about how this city used to be great, truly great. How it would rival Tatorak in all its glory and wealth. She’d tell me that the streets were made of cobblestone, and the sidewalks made of perfectly manicured grass for bare footed humans and wolves. Human buildings lined some streets, while wolf dens and trees lined others. This city,” Lydia gestured with her free hand, “used to be beautiful, a perfect mixture and balance of human and wolf life. Barracks, built to accommodate both species, housed and trained the world’s finest army. Wouldn’t it be nice to restore Amorak to its former glory?”
Kumar nodded, turning to kiss the top of her head tenderly, “Tomorrow I’m sending you down with our engineers to begin planning the reconstruction of our city. If we let everyone keep building like they are,” Kumar gazed down at the haphazardly placed buildings, “we won’t be able to walk through it.”
Lydia giggled.
“And I’ll begin to recruit the beginnings of the Northern Provincial Army.”
Lydia’s girlish smile disappeared. What took its place was a very mature and wife like expression, brimming with concerns. “What of Eeran?”
“He cares not about what happens to us. Why should he care if we defend ourselves?”
“He’ll care when he hears that a new leader has arisen and is gathering an army. He’ll see it as a potential threat and then he’ll try to kill us.”
“The key word there is try. He may try, but he won’t succeed as long as I’m alive.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. What if he’s rash enough to kill you and keep Toomay alive but under threat so no one dares disobey him?” Lydia’s voice was high as tears began to well in her eyes.
“Lydia,” Kumar took her soft face in his hands, “before I die, I will personally dethrone King Eeran and annihilate anything that threatens my family. I promise you that.”
Ocher eyes shimmering with unshed tears, Lydia nodded, her hands reaching up to grasp Kumar's. She sniffed once before she embraced him, clinging to his broad shoulders as tears ran down her cheek. She trembled slightly as Kumar’s voice rumbled in his chest.
“Tomorrow we’ll call a meeting with the council. Natalby gets more restless by the day. The sooner we begin to recruit an army, the sooner our people will be safe.”