Athyra by Steven Brust Read Free Book Online Page B

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    Savn had thought they would be going into Vlad’s room, but instead the Easterner led them out onto the street. There was still some light, but it was gradually fading, the overcast becoming more red than orange, and accenting the scarlet highlights on the bricks of Shoe’s old house across the way. There were a few people walking past, but they seemed intent on business of their own; the excitement of a few short hours before had evaporated like a puddle of water on a dry day. And those who were out seemed, as far as Savn could tell, intent on ignoring the Easterner. Savn wondered why he wasn’t more excited about the idea of learning Eastern magic, and came to the conclusion that it was because he didn’t really believe it would happen. Well, then, he asked himself, why not? Because, came the answer, I don’t know this Easterner, and I don’t understand why he would wish to teach me’
    anything.
    “Where are we going?” he said aloud.
    “To a place of power.”
    “What’s that?”
    “A location where it is easier to stand outside and inside of yourself and the other.”
    Savn tried to figure out which question to ask first. At last he said, “The other?”
    “The person or thing you wish to change. Witchcraft—magic—is a way of changing things. To change you must understand, and the best way to understand is to attempt change.”
    “I don’t—”
    “The illusion of understanding is a product of distance and perspective. True understanding requires involvement.”
    “Oh,” said Savn, putting it away for a later time to either think about or not. They were walking slowly toward the few remaining buildings on the west side of the village; Savn consciously held back the urge to run. Now they were entirely alone, save for voices from the livery stable, where Feeder was saying, “So I told him I’d never seen a kethna with a wooden leg, and how did it happen that ...” Savn wondered who he was talking to. Soon they were walking along the Manor Road west of town. Savn said, “What makes a place of power?”
    “Any number of things. Sometimes it has to do with the terrain, sometimes with things that have happened there or people who have lived there; sometimes you don’t know why it is, you just feel it.”
    “So we’re going to keep walking until you feel it?” Savn discovered that he didn’t really like the idea of walking all night until they came to a place that “felt right” to the Easterner.
    “Unless you know a place that is likely to be a place of power.”
    “How would I know that?”
    “Do you know of any place where people were sacrificed?”
    Savn shuddered. “No, there isn’t anything like that.”
    “Good. I’m not certain we want to face that in any event. Well, is there any powerful sorcerer who lives nearby?”
    “No. Well, you said that Lord Smallcliff is.”
    “Oh, yes, I did, didn’t I? But it would be difficult to reach the place where he works, which I assume to be on the other side of the river, at his keep.”
    “Not at his manor?”
    “Probably not. Of course, that’s only a guess; but we can hardly go to his manor either, can we?”
    “I guess not. But someplace he worked would be a place of power?”
    “Almost certainly.”
    “Well, but what about the water he used?”
    “The water? Oh, yes, the Dark Water. What about it?”
    “Well, if he found water in the caves—”
    “The caves? Of course, the caves! Where are they?”
    “Not far. It’s about half a league to Bigcliff, and then halfway down the slip and along the path.”
    “Can you find it in this light?”
    “Of course.”
    “Then lead the way.”
    Savn at once abandoned the road in order to cut directly toward the hills above Bigcliff, finding his way by memory and feel in the growing darkness. “Be careful along here,” he said as they negotiated the slip that cut through the hill. “The gravel is loose, and if you fall you can hurt yourself.”
    “Yes.”
    They came to the