Will smiled. “It’s a gift.”
“Speaking of gifts, why are you so stubborn about accepting them?”
He had spent a lot of time thinking about that, and lately he had begun to develop some ideas. “It’s a rule I was given, but I think I understand the reason now. It’s the difference between a warlock and a wizard.” She waited for him to explain, so he continued, “The simple definition is that a warlock bargains for power, but that doesn’t really cover it. Warlocks bargain things that shouldn’t be traded. In the best case they bargain their soul, and in the worst, they bargain someone else’s, but either way they create a debt. A debt to whatever power is waiting to claim them, or a debt to the people they’ve stolen from.
“A wizard doesn’t do that. A wizard trades honestly, and never trades himself.”
“But a gift from a friend isn’t the same,” argued Selene.
Will shook his head. “It creates a debt of gratitude. That can be a problem for anyone, even ordinary people, but for someone with power it’s more significant.”
“Then friends shouldn’t give one another gifts?”
“Friends should be equals. A great disparity in wealth or gift-giving poisons the relationship.”
“What about married people? Should they also refrain from showing affection through presents?” she asked.
“That’s different,” he answered. “In marriage both partners have agreed to accept each other’s strengths and weaknesses. They’re united, in possessions and everything else. Since they don’t own anything apart, they can’t create that kind of debt.”
Selene became thoughtful, and after a moment said, “What about love? Sometimes one loves another without receiving love in return.”
Considering what had happened to his mother, Will had strong opinions on the topic, but all he said was, “I’m not sure.”
“Love doesn’t count,” declared Selene confidently. “Because it’s the one thing that becomes greater in the giving.” Will didn’t reply.
Selene began swinging her arms. “So, what I’ve concluded is that the only way for anyone to give you gifts is to marry you.” She laughed when she saw the panic on his face. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t suggesting it. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, it wouldn’t be possible.”
He agreed, though perhaps not for the reason she thought. Arrogan and Aislinn had paid dearly for whatever mistake Arrogan had made, and they were both wizards. Applying the same logic, it occurred to him that a wizard had to be even more careful when considering marriage. Only a partner who could be trusted not to endanger the wizard with a debt or obligation that might be disastrous could be considered. By definition, a sorcerer would be a violation of that rule from the very beginning.
She had been watching him from the corner of one eye while he thought. Thinking she had made the mood awkward, she posed a new question, “How did you free those elementals? That was a lie, wasn’t it?”
“Why would I lie?” he replied.
“To make him angrier,” observed Selene. “You’re spiteful like that. Do you have any idea how valuable his offer was?” When he just shrugged, she continued, “The king would probably have given you a title. After Lord Fulstrom’s elementals were lost, his heir wouldn’t be allowed to inherit. His family might even wind up on the streets. It’s possible you might have been chosen to take his estate.”
“I’m not his heir. That makes no sense. Can the king even do that?”
She nodded. “The nobles hold their lands in good faith, but it all belongs to him. He won’t allow someone without power to inherit.”
Will felt a slight pang of guilt over what might happen to Lord Fulstrom’s family, but he shoved it aside. It wasn’t his fault. The entire system was flawed, built upon a foundation of suffering. “Well, what I said was the truth, regardless. Want me to prove it?” He held out his hand toward her chest as though he would pull the enchantments from her body.
She took a quick step back. “Only a master sorcerer could do that, and only for his own elementals.”
Will looked at the ground, studying the dead sticks scattered around them. They reminded him of one of Arrogan’s more painful lessons. “The heart-stone enchantment is just like a spell, only more complicated, and just like a spell it can be taken away from someone. Once you do that, you can pick it apart.”
Selene frowned. “You can’t take someone’s spell away. Once turyn has been formalized into a spell, it can only be used by the owner of the spell.”
“That’s not what I was taught,” said Will. Then he challenged, “Why don’t we see who’s right, my teacher or all those scholars of magic you’re so proud of?”
“You don’t even know any spells,” she said dismissively.
“I’ve learned one,” he said defensively, “but that’s not the idea. You make a spell and hold it without releasing it. I’ll see if I can take it away from you.”
She gave him a smug look. “Would you like a simple spell or a complicated one? Not that it matters.”
“Complicated. I don’t want you saying it was too easy.”
Selene held out her hands, and runes began to rapidly appear, too quickly for him to follow with his eyes. Over the span of a minute they built up into a complex spherical web above her palms. She gave him look of pride when the spell was complete.
“What does that do?” asked Will.
“It’s a spell to clean a room.”
His mind was boggled. “That’s all it does? Why is it so complicated?”
“You’re letting your ignorance show,” she told him. “The most powerful magic isn’t necessarily complicated, and sometimes a minor magic requires a lot of complexity to work properly. A cleaning spell has to have a lot of rules built into it; otherwise it will make a mess instead of doing what you want. It has to differentiate between dust and dirt and things that ought not be removed. Hard floors are not like rugs, and fabric can’t be cleaned like dishes. This spell can handle all those things. Still think you can take it away from me?”
Will ignored the question. His mind was occupied by thoughts of all the hard labor he had done at his grandfather’s request. The old bastard could have cleaned it all in a minute, he realized. He knew for a fact that the old man must have known the spell, for he had seen how clean Arrogan’s bedroom had been.
He held out his hands, putting them on either side of her spell. A second later, the glow of the runes began to flicker, and Selene’s eyes went wide. No, that’s not it, Will told himself. I don’t want to absorb it; I want to take it. He tried to remember the sensation he had felt when he drew the heart-stone enchantments out of the dead sorcerers’ bodies.
Unlike those occasions, he felt a stiff resistance. Selene wasn’t dead; she was very much alive and still holding onto the spell. What had his grandfather told him with the candle? He needed to change the color of the flame to regain control of his turyn. This was similar. He had to convert the turyn within the spell to his own type before the spell would be his.
Pushing aside his distractions, Will focused on the turyn within the spell. He didn’t want to absorb it—he needed to change it. He felt his will tremble as something opposed his desire. Clenching his jaw, he bore down, refusing to accept the outcome.