Spellslinger (Spellslinger #1)(4)

‘Four.’

His left hand formed the somatic shape necessary for his shield spell. I’d never seen him prepare the shield before the sword. He looked down at his hand to check the form. Tennat was just a little worried now.

‘Two.’

Two? What happened to three? Pay attention, damn it. Tennat’s right hand made the somatic shape for the iron attack spell we informally call the gut sword. His fingers were perfectly aligned to cause the maximum pain in his opponent. His head was still down, but it was starting to look as though he might be smiling again.

‘One.’

Okay, Tennat was definitely smiling. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea.

‘Begin!’ Osia’phest said.

The next thing I felt was my insides screaming in pain.

Like I said, magic is a con game.

Mostly.

To an observer, it wouldn’t have looked as if anything was happening. There was no flash of light or roar of thunder, just the early evening light and the soft sounds of the breeze coming from the south. Iron magic doesn’t create any visual or auditory effects – that was why I’d picked it in the first place. The real fight was taking place inside our bodies.

Tennat was reaching out with his right hand, carefully holding the somatic form: middle fingers together making the sign of the knife, index and little fingers curled up – the shape of pulling, of tearing. The horrifying touch of his will slipped inside my chest, winding itself along my internal organs. The pain it created – more slithering horror than anything blunt or sharp – made me want to fall to the ground and beg for mercy. Damn, he’s fast, and strong too. Why can’t I be strong like that?

I responded by letting out the barest hint of a laugh and smiling effortlessly. The look on Tennat’s face told me I was creeping him out. I was probably creeping everyone out, since confident smiles weren’t exactly my customary expression.

I let the corners of my mouth ease down a bit as my gaze narrowed and I stared straight into Tennat’s eyes. I thrust out my hand as if I were stabbing the air – a much more pronounced gesture and by all rights much too fast for an initiate like me to do while holding on to the shielding spell. Where Tennat’s hand formed the somatic shape with care and precision, mine was looser, almost casual, something few would dare because of the risk of breaking the shape.

At first nothing happened. I could still feel Tennat’s will inside my guts, so I let my smile grow by a hair – just enough to let him see how sure I was that he was completely screwed. The painful pulling at my insides began to subside just a little as Tennat’s gaze lingered on me for several agonising seconds. Suddenly his eyes went very, very wide.

That’s when I knew I was going to win.

The other reason I’d chosen iron magic even though I couldn’t wield it myself was because when a mage uses the gut sword to attack, he has to use a second spell – the heart shield – to protect himself. But it’s not a shield the way you might think of a big round thing that acts as a wall. Instead, you use magical force to maintain the shape and integrity of your own insides. You have to picture your heart, your liver, your … well, everything, and try to keep them together. But if you start to panic – say, if you think the other mage is beating you and nothing you’re doing is working – you can inadvertently compress your own organs.

That was how Tennat had beat Panahsi. That was how he’d hurt him so badly, even though nobody but me – not even Tennat himself – had realised it. Pan had been trying so hard to protect himself that he’d actually ended up crushing his own internal organs. Now it was Tennat who was so convinced that his spells were failing that he was pushing them too hard. I was still in blinding pain, but I’d expected it. I was ready for it. Tennat wasn’t.

He struggled for a while, increasing his attack on me even as he unconsciously tore at himself with his own shield spell. I felt my legs shake and my vision start to blur as the pain became too much for me. It had seemed like such a good plan at the time, I thought.

Suddenly Tennat stumbled out of his circle. ‘Enough!’ he shouted. ‘I yield … I yield!’

The fingers of his own power disappeared into nothingness. I could breathe again. I tried my very best to keep my tremendous sense of relief from showing on my face.

Osia’phest walked slowly over to Tennat, who was on his knees gasping. ‘Describe the sensation,’ our teacher demanded.

Tennat looked up at the old man as if he were an idiot, which was a fairly common impression of our teacher. ‘It felt like I was about to die. That’s what it felt like!’

Osia’phest ignored the belligerent tone. ‘And did it feel the same as with the other students?’

A jolt of fear ran through me as I realised Osia’phest was testing his suspicions. Tennat looked over at me, then at the old man. ‘It … I suppose not at first. Usually it feels hard, like a strong hand grabbing at you, but with Kellen it’s different … worse, like tendrils insinuating themselves all around my insides. By the end I could feel him crushing my organs.’

Osia’phest stood in silence for a long time as the breeze picked up and drifted off again around us. The other initiates were still staring at me, wondering how someone who hadn’t broken any of his bands had beaten the best duellist in our class. But they’d all seen Tennat falter and heard him describe what sounded like someone being overwhelmed by superior magic. Finally Osia’phest said, ‘Well done, Kellen of the House of Ke. It would appear that you’ve passed the first test.’