Tibs cracked an eye open at Don’s angry grumbling. The sorcerer scratched out something on the paper. He’d been hoping to rest before running the roofs, but Don’s frustration over the diagrams made that difficult.
“Give it a rest,” Tibs said.
“I’ll figure them out,” the sorcerer snapped.
“Not if you rip them up in anger.”
Don glared at him.
“Why are you in such a hurry to understand them?”
The chair scraped as Don turned it to face Tibs. “These are power.” He waved the pages at Tibs. “They’re things the guild isn’t going to teach me anytime soon.”
“Then you have time.”
Don stared. “This is knowledge, Tibs. The sooner I figure them out, to sooner I acquire it. That puts me ahead of where the guild wants me.”
“I didn’t think any of them were about corruption,” Tibs said.
“They aren’t.”
“Then how are they going to help you?”
Don looked through the pages. “It’s… complicated. Somewhere in them, I should be able to find something about how I can draw essence from the items around me.”
“Or from amulets with other elements in them?”
“Yes. There are ways, processes through which I’ll be able to tell essences apart.”
Tibs sat up. “How?”
Don chuckled bitterly. “No one’s told me that yet, and the little I’ve read on it hasn’t been helpful. But beyond helping me, these can help the team and the other runners.” He pulled a diagram. “This one only uses water, so you could use it right now, if I could figure out how it worked.”
Tibs took it. “I thought only sorcerers could use spells.” He felt the essence through the paper as he looked at the diagram. The design was more complex than anything he’d tried, with lines of multiple shapes and Arcanus between them, as well as around. The essence woven through wasn’t water or one he could identify.
“Spell is just a word,” Don said. “Ultimately, they’re nothing more than complex etchings, possibly weaves, but little of what I read links those two. If it only needs one element, anyone who can wrap their mind around the diagram can use it.”
Tibs handed it back. “The essence in the page?”
“That’s… part of the problem. One of the reason it’s there is to make the paper more resilient, but another is that…there’s information in it that a sorcerer can decipher, and that is needed to fully understand the diagram.”
“It isn’t made of water,” Tibs pointed out, “so only sorcerers can use them.”
“Only a sorcerer can decipher one,” Don corrected, “but—” Tibs canted his head and the sorcerer sighed. “Yes, in the end, they are made so only one of us can make use of them. You’d have to learn how to identify other elements to make use of it without help.”
“Alistair says that each class thinks differently. That it’s why I can’t do what a water archer does, or what a water sorcerer can.”
Don placed the papers back on the table. “He’s only partially right, I think. But he has a detail wrong. You don’t think differently from me because I’m a sorcerer and you’re a rogue. You think differently because you are you, and I’m me. Our upbringing plays a part, and yes, you’re more likely to think like another rogue than one of the townsfolk. But that’s because you have to do a lot of the same kind of things, which needs you to think in the same ways.”
“So, how would you help me learn to use one of the spells?”
“The same way you learn from your teacher. You apply yourself to thinking in a new way. We all do it. Some have an easier time of it than others, but by studying and applying ourselves, anyone can change how they think. That’s the primary use of the diagram. Get you to put your mind in a new pattern.”
“So that’s how I stop my essence from fraying at the edges?”
Don frowned. “Your etchings fray?”
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“No. When I shape my essence to do stuff, like coat the floor with water or…” he searched for an alternative to his attempt at Carina’s whirlwind. “Make a funnel. The edges aren’t defined, the way Naila uses her water essence.”
“She’s a sorcerer. We do need to be precise in what we do.”
“I have to be precise too; locks and traps need precision to open.”
“That’s a different type of precision, or not as important to the overall way you learned to think. I can’t tell you why you think the way you do. Mind isn’t my element, and I doubt even one of them could. But how much fraying do your etchings have?”
“When I do it right, none.”
Don smiled. “So you can think in such a way the fraying goes away if you need it to.”
Tibs leaned against the wall, considering it. Not everything he made with essence frayed to the same level. His air platform barely had any. Was it because he’d started working on it when he didn’t have a lot of essence? And had to focus harder to get it to support his weight?
“Then why can’t I recreate what another Runner does?” Carina had simply pulled and pushed air essence around, manipulating it the way he did water.
The sorcerer shrugged. “How important is it to you that you succeed? How important to them? How much of how they think do you know and understand? If all you have is what you feel of how their essence moves, you’re missing a lot of information. It’s why etchings exist, and spells. They are a representation of the ways you need to think about the effect you want to happen.”
“But why do they feel different from when I manipulate water?”
“That’s because you’re pushing your will on it without thinking.” Don considered something. “Okay. You’ve made waves of water, right?”
Tibs nodded.
“How would you turn that into a water jet?”
Tibs formed a ball of water over his palm, shaped it into a rod and willed it across the room.
“How much effort did that take?” Don asked as Tibs pulled the essence back, drying the wall.
“Not a lot.”
“Now, make that something offensive, made to cause damage.”
“I can turn it into ice.”
“No, use water. See if you can get it to where it feels like it will cause the same level of damage as one of your etchings.”
Tibs made another cylinder, then made it larger. He realized a problem. He needed to keep adding water for the jet to be strong enough to cause damage, and he couldn’t think of a way to do it. No, he could, he just add to will more of it in. Then all he needed to do was project it toward the target and—
The essence slipped his mental control as he tried to hold the shape in place, add essence to it and prepare it to be launched. Don didn’t react to water splashing on the floor, and Tibs absorbed the essence.
“I’m going to have to work on that,” he said.
“And in time, you will be able to get the essence to do what you will it,” Don said. “But why bother? There’s an etching that lets do that easily, because it gets your mind to think the correct way to make it happen. Especially since you worked out how to etch without having to trace it with a point.”
“You noticed.”
Don shrugged. “Hard to miss a jet of water saving your life when the Runner making it is also busy holding off his attacker. Don’t worry,” he added as Tibs continued to look at him. “I don’t think the others realized it. If I hadn’t read about it being possible, I’d have figured I was too distracted fighting to see you trace it.”
“When do you think the guild teaches that?”
“Who knows?” The sorcerer snorted. “I won’t be surprised if that’s yet another thing they expect us to work out on our own. It’s not like everyone has the same use for it. As a researcher, I doubt I’ll need to etch without tracing.”
* * * * *
The two Runners approached warily, accompanied by Janbert. That made seven, and not even one complete team who’d agreed to the training. Jackal and Mez had agreed to help, Don had too, but his instructor had requested his presence, which meant the one sorcerer wouldn’t get to learn about his class. Hopefully, he’d be open to learning to fight. Before the next session, Tibs had to find a sorcerer to take Don’s place when he was busy.
“I’m glad you came,” he greeted them. “Before we start, I want to make sure you understand what you’re agreeing to. The price for the training is your help protecting the town once you are strong enough. That’s going to mean patrols and taking on troublemakers.”
“Isn’t that what the guards are for?” a girl asked.
“They work for the guild,” Tibs said. “I’ve learned not to trust them to have the town’s best interest in mind. The guild lies.”
Three of the seven nodded.
“If you’re okay with the price, we are going to train you so you can survive the dungeon. When I have equipment, you’ll get that for your runs so you don’t have to bother with what the guild hands out.”
“Do try to bring them back,” Jackal said. “Those cost a lot of coins.”
“Surviving will ensure that happens,” Tibs stated. “And that’s what we’re going to help you do.”
The seven nodded, and they separated them. Khumdar stepping out of the shadows to take the sorcerer in hand.
* * * * *
“That’s Roche,” Serba said, indicating the man looking over fabrics at the merchant’s booth. “He’s third under Commander Irdian, so he’s careful. I tried to figure out that thing you said he’d have, but I couldn’t manage it.”
Tibs handed the dog nuzzling his leg jerky while looking ahead. He had trouble making out details about the man through the busy bazaar crowd. The first day was always like this, as everyone in town wanted something before the merchants ran out. Brogan Roche’s hair was curly and dark. He was out of uniform, his tunic in gray-green fabric with lighter trim while his pants were gray thick fabric, like the kind the workers wore.
“I don’t know where he lives,” Serba said, “and don’t ask me to find out.”
Tibs nodded and made his way closer.
“This is good fabric for clothes that will see hard work,” the merchant said, unrolling the end of a darker gray fabric for Brogan to rub between his fingers.
Tibs narrowed his sense to get details of the man. There were hints of breaks in his essence, representation of not perfectly healed injuries, but he was healthy. And he had nothing with a weave on his person.
He hadn’t expected him to. This was to see who his target was so he could identify him when he worked.
And with that done, Tibs was off to enjoy the bazaar, too. Hopefully, one of them would sell Sea Drops. If not, there was bound to be a candy merchant who would take the coppers he’d accumulated since stepping into Market Place.