Masuk“You have soft hair,” Kim whispered at his ear, gently stroking his locs as the ends spread across th surface of the water.Not knowing how to respond, Hunter remained silent.“Come you it by way of your mother or your father’s strain?”“I do not know, though, my mother had similar.”She pulled his face around so that their eyes met. “I’m sorry to hear that.”“Why?”Looking into her eyes as if searching for some lost mystery, she found herself at a momentary loss for words.“I could not imagine being alone in this world. Even though the code forbears family and friends once we become Magi, I will always hold my family and blood dear. To not even have that choice is a pain I could not bear.”“Luckily, then, it is a choice I do not have to make.”Saying nothing, her eyes widened, and Hunter became lost in a blue that became the whole of his world for a brief moment. Closing her eyes before they both were lost in the gaze of the other, she said, “I’m sorry.”“For what?”“For misjudging y
Not resisting, Hunter was moved deeper into the water father away from his friends and a little to the left of hers until the water was up to his chest. From one step to the nest his head went from the surface to falling beneath the warm dark of the lake where nothing could be seen. Water filled his mouth, his nose, stung his eyes. He tried to surface, but did not know how to swim and his thrashing seemed to only weigh him as he slipped deeper. Hunter stretched forth his mind, his powers, and nothing happened. He became afraid, began to despair when he felt hands grasping, pulling at him. He clutched at them in his desperation until he felt them retreat. Why had they left, he wondered? And where he had felt despair he began to feel the slow burn of anger in his gut. He would not let it end like this He calmed his heart, his mind, his body began to slow, to rebound against the motion that was pulling him under. He could see nothing but knew he was slowly rising. Would it be
The sloppy wet strains of hunger ensued until they were sated.Hunter rose when Giesle did, plate in hand.“Leave it. The steward will see to that.”Giesle was pleased that the Masters had enough consideration to give him the responsibility of a troika. But this final addition would prove trying for all that Hunter did not know, and all that he would need to do to make him understand.“It takes a steady discipline to master one’s ki once it has been . . . sigh. I don’t have the words to adequately express what I am trying to say, but I mean—”“He means once it has been quenched in the trough of expectation and desire, it can never forget that feeling, that desire,” said Tick, finishing for him.“That’s what comes from being the son of jongleurs and courtiers” the words were spoken as if to bait, but Marcus’ smile was of appreciation.“I understand your confusion. You know little of our customs and ways, of the Source, of things we breath everyday. At least this is what I was informed.
“Hey, wake up.” He heard the words through the fog of sleep but did not want to wake up. Sleep was far more comfort than the lonely, isolated wakefulness he saw stretched before him. But he could not run or evade the truth, so, reluctantly, he rolled to his back and opened his eyes to a startled brown stare. The boy looking down at him took a step back before recovering himself. “First bell has rung and it is time for the morning bath,” said the tall, slim youth. Hunter did not respond. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and the covers slipped from his chest. The others gasped. “Where did you get those?” The question came, simultaneously, from the two who stood back. “What?” Hunter responded, bent head searching for whatever had caught their attention. “Those scars.” Hunter stilled, and the attention from those dark matchless eyes seemed to draw their breath.They began to fidget. Had they pres
As they walked, Poe gave him bits and pieces of their journey, leaving hints and intimations that left the Magister impatient and not inclined to wait. There was some things to be said about respect and tradition. Children were to their manners and should be treated as such. There were people whose duty it was to see Hunter settled to a room. But there were circumstances here and he needed them to be led by Poe’s hands. Or maybe it was this child had taken resident in his heart had like the other wardlings he had nurtured—and there had not been many. That was a heavy burned and responsibility to assume, and Poe did him proud.They walked toward the façade of the School Poe giving hints and intimations that left the Magister impatient to hear more that bits and pieces of revelation that had been Poe’s journey.Hunter was uneasy, daunted by the size and oppressive nature of the building toward which he walked. It was heavy with an oppressive weight of more than stone that Hunter knew h
The road narrowed, sandwiched between towering cliffs and the sheer drop to jagged stone, as it swept away from Kraag Keep toward the School. The coach pulled up to a pair of intricately carved large wooden gates, made of redwood and belted in wide bands of brass. On the face of the doors were carvings of mountains surmounted by wide winged birds circling pointed peaks. Down through the mountains curved a river which became a waterfall falling into a valley where rams contested with curved horns, wolfs were on the hunt, and bears stood on hind legs protecting cubs. Stepping from the coach Hunter was arrested by the carvings. He reached out to touch the wood, run his fingers over ridges and grooves half expecting to feel the cold of the mountains, hear the running of the river, and the animals to move beneath his fingers.“They doors are rumored to be over a thousand years old from the fabled Palace of the Magi, when the world was young and the Sects were still as one.&r







