“This isn’t just for my sake,” said the old man. “It’s for yours as well.” He made a gesture with one hand and Will felt the spell encasing his turyn vanish. “We don’t want him to see that spell, but don’t think you’re off the hook,” warned Arrogan. “Keep your turyn tightly suppressed. The spell goes back on when you get back.”
“He’s a sorcerer,” reminded Will. “Won’t he see that my turyn is too small to be normal?”
His grandfather cuffed the side of his head. “Fool. Haven’t you been paying attention? Can you see mine?”
Will shook his head. He had a vague sense that his grandfather’s turyn was somewhat smaller than usual, but he couldn’t visualize it directly. He certainly couldn’t tell it was the tiny ember that the old man had once shown him.
“That’s the point of the candle spell,” lectured Arrogan. “In time, you’ll be able to gauge almost exactly what your turyn is doing, based on experience and instinct, but judging someone else’s is even more difficult. You can see the flows of magic around yourself and others, but seeing what lies within someone else is nearly impossible.” He paused for a moment, then went on, “That’s right, I almost forgot the candle. Give it to me.”
He did, and the flame winked out, causing Will a moment of panic. He had grown so used to constantly observing it that seeing the flame vanish made him think he had died for a split second. Arrogan tucked the now-extinguished candle into a pocket. “I’ll restore this spell as well, after you get back.”
Thinking they were done, Will started to leave, but his grandfather caught his shoulder. “Not yet. You need to be ready for what you will see, not just what he might see.”
“Huh?”
“The last time you saw Lord Nerrow, you didn’t have the sight, and as far as he knows, you still don’t,” explained Arrogan.
Will frowned. “He’s not going to know what I can see just by looking at me.”
“He will if you act surprised,” said his guardian. “Sorcerers usually have one or more elementals with them. They aren’t visible to normal people unless they call on them, or when they want to impress people, but you are almost bound to see one around him, and it can be jarring. If you respond with shock or fear he’s going to know.”
“How bad could it be?”
“Mark Nerrow comes from a very prestigious line of sorcerers, even though his rank among the nobility is fairly modest. He will very likely have a major fire elemental with him. Seeing something like that can be very unsettling. Try not to shit yourself,” advised his grandfather. “At its biggest, it could be as big as a large house, though it will almost certainly be compressed into a tiny form, like a ball of fire floating over his shoulder.”
Despite the warning, Will found himself more curious than ever. His training with Arrogan had been singularly boring, except for the painful parts. Seeing an elemental sounded exciting. “I’ll be all right,” he assured the old man.
Arrogan stared after him for several minutes after he left, then he went inside and got his travel boots and staff. As he stepped off the porch and started in the direction of Will’s house, he spotted the goddamned cat. “I should have known you’d show up today,” he told the feline.
The grey feline stretched and then sat up straight, fixing Arrogan with a serious stare.
“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on starting anything,” said the old man. “I’ve left that crap in the past, where it belongs.”
The cat yawned, then stared up at him, closing its eyes slowly before reopening them.
“Trust me,” said Arrogan. “I just want to observe.”
The goddamned cat sneezed before walking away, seeming to have lost interest in the old man’s conversation. Arrogan shook his head and started walking. As he went he muttered to himself, “But if that pompous prick tries to take the boy, I won’t hesitate to start a war.”
***
Will and Eric made good time through the woods on their way to Will’s house, keeping their pace somewhere between a trot and a jog. When they got close, Will stopped and put a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “You should stay here.”
“I want to see what happens,” protested Eric.
“The man’s a sorcerer,” reminded Will. “If he’s mad about something, or if something goes wrong, I’d rather you weren’t there. It’s bad enough that he’s in the house with Mom.”
“I’d like to see him try!” declared Eric, lifting one fist and shaking it defiantly. “I’d show him what the Cartwrights are made of.”
Will couldn’t help but be impressed by his cousin’s loyalty, as well as a little envious as he saw the corded muscles of Eric’s forearm. Even with his new staff practice, he doubted he’d ever develop that much muscle. Still, Will vividly remembered all the times his grandfather had rendered him completely helpless without so much as a word. If Arrogan could do that, how much could a powerful sorcerer do? “Please stay here, Eric,” he said. “Neither of us can fight magic, and he’ll have guards as well. I’d rather not risk anyone I don’t have to.”
Eric chewed his lip unhappily, but eventually he agreed. “All right. But if anything happens, I’ll run and get Dad.”
“If it comes to that, just run,” said Will. He hugged his cousin briefly, then started through the underbrush. It was only twenty more yards to his house.
As before, the gilded carriage was parked in front and a well-dressed driver stood beside it. The footman stood guard at the door to his house. Squaring his shoulders, Will walked forward.
“Who might you be?” asked the driver.
Will wasn’t sure if it was the same man that had whipped him two years before, but he turned his head to bring the scar on his cheek into view. “Will Cartwright,” he answered. “I was told that Lord Nerrow wanted to see me.”
The footman opened the door to the house and peeked inside. “The boy is here, milord.” A man’s voice responded, and then the servant looked back at Will. “You can go in.”
It’s my home, you asshole, thought Will, but he kept his words to himself. He was surprised by the number of people inside when he stepped in. The main room of his home served as both a kitchen and Erisa Cartwright’s main place of business, so aside from the hearth there was a table with four chairs. The shelves around the sides of the room were crammed with dried herbs, and a variety of bottles and jars of ointment.
Erisa’s favorite chair was occupied by an arrogant-looking man clad in orange and gold—the same one who had visited two years ago. Lord Nerrow had dirty blond hair, brown eyes, and a long, sharp nose that hung over a thin mustache. Seeing him in his mother’s chair didn’t do anything to improve Will’s opinion of him.
Two of the other chairs were occupied by two young women, or more accurately, girls. The first looked to be close to Sammy’s age, with brown hair and eyes. Will thought she must be the same one he had once seen escaping from the carriage, the one he had saved from the snake. He had no doubt about the identity of the other, older girl, whose raven black hair and startling blue eyes had caught his attention immediately. Her name was Selene. At a guess, he figured she was near to his own age.