Stormcaster (Shattered Realms #3)(16)

“The tribes control the supply, and so restrict the power of wizards,” Destin said, feeding Breaker a bit of ham.

“Wizards?”

“That’s what they call mages in the uplands. Amulets are especially hard to come by. . . .” He hesitated, and Evan knew he was choosing how much to share. “They are hard to come by in the Ardenine Empire, since the empire is at war with the uplands. It is said that the wizards in the wetlands originally came from your Northern Islands. That the Northern Islands were a part of a long-ago confederation of realms, ruled by the Gray Wolf queens.” He stopped then, as if realizing that this history lesson was more information than Evan wanted or needed.

He lifted the chain from around his neck and cradled the amulet in his hands. It glowed softly, like a Solstice candle, in the dim interior of the barn.

Destin usually kept his amulet hidden under his shirt, so Evan leaned forward to take a closer look. It was all metal—copper and steel, silver and gold—in an unusual design, like a mechanical device. “What is it?”

“It’s an engineer’s hammer and tongs,” Destin said, sliding his finger along the riveted metal.

“That suits you,” Evan said.

He nodded briskly, without looking up. “Of course. My mother had it made for me. She’s from the north of Arden, and her family has been trading with the uplanders for years.”

“How does it work?”

“Mages produce power constantly, like a kind of magical vapor that dissipates as soon as it appears. Amulets allow us to accumulate enough to work significant charms. Power transfers to it through skin, when you touch it,” he said. “Here, you try it.” He dropped the pendant into Evan’s hands.

It was still warm from Destin’s touch. The amulet flared up so brightly when Evan’s hands closed around it that it was like holding a star between his hands. Evan could feel the buzz and flow of power both ways. It was oddly intimate, to be holding Destin’s amulet, their power—their flash—mingling together. Maybe Destin felt it, too, because when Evan looked up, Destin cleared his throat and looked away.

“It might be that you produce more flash than wetland mages, since we have trouble doing anything significant without our amulets. But you might find you can better control your power by using an amulet. Right now, when you’re in danger, it builds up, gushes out, and it’s gone”—he looked up at the roof, now mostly replaced—“along with half the barn.”

“I hope you’ll remember that next time you go to cut my throat,” Evan said.

The soldier actually laughed. Then he patted the leather case and said, “These are the manuscripts I mentioned—they finally arrived. They are supposed to be documents about Nazari weather mages and how they worked with the elements of the natural world. It’s written in your native language, so hopefully you can read it.” He slid the case toward Evan. “Maybe there will be something useful in there.”

Evan, oddly touched, stroked the tooled leather. “I’ll get these back to you as soon as I—”

Destin put his hand on Evan’s arm, setting his heart to flopping like a beached fish. “Keep them. I can’t read them, anyway. You can hang them over the mantel when you’re done. Right now, let’s go outside so you can practice with my amulet. I don’t want to blow this barn down again now that it’s almost repaired.”

The soldier extended his hand. Evan gripped it, set his feet, and pulled him upright. Then, with Destin’s arm draped over Evan’s shoulders, they hobbled outside.

The weeks flew by, a month, two months. Destin’s leg improved enough so that he could put weight on it again, with the help of a crutch. Once the barn was finished, they spent hours on the beach practicing, when they weren’t doing chores on the farm.

Evan read the manuscripts through, twice, then studied them page by page. While the dryland mages did not use amulets, they knew how to store energy in the land and the ocean itself, leaving it behind so that it could be retrieved and used later. He sat on the sand, arms wrapped around his knees, staring out at the twin sandstone carvings of dragons that bracketed the mouth of the harbor.

The Guardians, they were called, once used by Nazari mages to protect against enemies that arrived by sea. Evan studied the scripts and vowed to climb to the top of the Guardians one day soon.

Evan experimented with Destin’s amulet and found that it enabled him to control the scope and power of wind, waves, and weather using stored flash. He hoped that, with practice, he could learn to use his stormcaster gift more precisely, with or without flashcraft. Especially since there was none to be had in Carthis. And because he suspected, down deep, that this idyll by the sea couldn’t last forever.

Where he totally failed, however, was with spoken charms. Destin had an entire menu of nuanced magic he could work using his amulet and specific words spoken in the wetland language. Power including immobilization, persuasion, interrogation, and the like. Also glamours to make him less recognizable. Evan totally failed at all of that.

“So,” Destin said, as if summing up data. “You’re not able to use spoken charms, nor are you vulnerable to mine.”

Well, Evan thought, his cheeks burning, you’re wrong about that.

“Unless, for instance, I burn down a building with you in it.”

“Good to know,” Evan said.