Harn let out a blissful sigh. “See? That’s singing.” Then blushed, having written the gossamer, and looked helplessly around the table. “I can’t go up now.”
“You’d better,” Dom told him with a mock scowl. “I put good coin down with Tambler to get you an audition. Go on.”
Maleonarial joined the chorus urging Harn to the stage. When the former student broke into the first tentative line of a seaside ditty, the barge crew and dockworkers in the inn let out a roar of approval, mugs swinging in time. Relieved, Harn launched into the earthy refrain with vigor.
“Why?” Affarealyon pointed at the mage’s head.
“It’s lighter.” Maleonarial combed his fingers through curly stubble, enjoying the sensation and its meaning. “I’m free. We all are.” Mostly black his hair, with gray over the ears, as his body was mostly hale and strong, but mature. The knee complained of the approach of winter.
A season he’d live to see, and many more. Magic no longer had that ultimate, personal cost. No longer had that seductive pull stronger than food or love, though rewarding? Maleonarial smiled into his beer. Wait till the existing masters learned that magic had a mind of Her own and what they could now create?
Might serve a purpose, if interested. Or not.
More likely would giggle in their face.
Nedsom shook his head. “What I want to know is why you want us to rebuild the school. With magic itself awake and aware, and it’s everywhere, by the way, even here. A gossamer swam in a bucket of mortar this morning. Mixed it well, but added—” He raised his hand, showing bronze glitter stuck to the palm. “With magic doing whatever it pleases, what’s the point of more?”
A sensible question. The true answer, that She who was magic wished for the world to return to what it was before ice and fire and the Eaters, thus there must be more gossamers created to replace those lost, many more, was, Maleonarial decided, something for each person to discover on their own. The world would change. For people to have a place in it, they’d best hope gossamers continue to “like” them.
“The point of magic?” He formed an intention then wrote Her Words in the air. Small but intense the spark that followed.
Small but brilliant, the gossamer that appeared. It stretched like a little panther, rubbed around Nedsom’s mug of beer, then disappeared with the flick of a tail, leaving behind the scent of baking.
And a generous heap of steaming battered fish.
“Help yourselves,” he said, blithely taking a strip and plopping it in his mouth. Delicious, hot and spiced exactly as he remembered from a visit to Nor Hold’s market, when he’d stopped for a meal at one of the vendors by the dock. “We need a school to teach a new kind of intention. How to give life to our fantasies without fear, and accept the result.”
Affar sampled the fish. Her eyebrows rose in approval, then lowered to frown. “Not all fantasies are benign.”
He’d made a promise to Nim, one no longer his alone to keep. “I believe nothing we create will cause harm to the land or its life. She won’t allow it.” He shrugged. “What we do to ourselves or each other—that may depend on the gossamers as much as us. They do have a sense of humor.”
“We rebuild the mage school, then.”
“A school for everyone who hears Her Words and wishes to create gossamers,” he corrected. “Including daughters. Our ancestors, I’m told on the best authority, made one choice. We can make our own.”
Their ancestors not having had the chance to see, as he had and would forever remember, the sky become wings and the sun an eye of dazzling topaz.
Maleonarial leaned forward. “What’s your fantasy, Affar?”
And watched her face light with the astonished hope of a child.
* * *
Winter dressed the pines with white fluffy shawls and caps. Stilled the brooks and creeks, for a time. Nipped noses and rosied cheeks and Leksand Loggerson pulled his scarf close around his neck after he left Pincel’s sled to walk the path home.
And there it was, snug in the clearing. Smoke curled from the chimney, tinged with the scent of curing sausage. Laundry hung, frozen stiff as boards. Someone didn’t know to hang clothes indoors. Nim, helping his great-uncle.
Leksand slowed, then stopped. He was home.
But he wasn’t, was he? He’d no home, now. Choices, yes. Insom the Second, recovered and understanding as no one else the wounds he carried, had urged him to stay, even offered the chance to sail the seas together and explore.
Maleonarial had sent word of a new school, for anyone who’d do magic. He was welcome, always.
He’d had enough magic for a lifetime. Didn’t want, yet, to travel. As for what he did want?
Leksand shook his head wearily. Peace. Time—
“What’s wrong, laddie?”
Because he’d always answered with the truth, as best he could, Leksand replied, “It’s not home, Momma,” before remembering he was alone and she was gone.
Then who’d spoken, in her voice?
A breeze, warm as spring, caressed his cheek. “Why not?”
“Because you’re—m’Mom’s dead. I don’t blame you,” for now he knew who spoke. The woman of the woods.
The world.
“She gave her life willingly,” he told the air, told himself too. “I don’t blame you. I’m just—it’s not home, without her. Not anymore.” He wiped a foolish tear from his cheek before it froze.
“I’d not be so sure, laddie.” Snow lifted, became a shape, one his heart knew before his eyes. Color raced to cheeks and lips, swept over what was now a warm wool cloak, her favorite, and made a familiar pattern on sensible knitted mittens.
“Gossamer,” he accused.
“Aie.” A mittened hand gave his chest a familiar pat. “But also Kait Alder, who kept me safe inside her and saved us. All she asked in return was I care for you as she would.”
He caught up the hand. Held it as he searched the face that couldn’t be, but was, hers. Saw the gentle little smile bloom he knew best of all. “Momma?”
“For as long as you need me, laddie,” she promised. “Now, let’s get ye home.”
* * *
For it came to pass the goddess named deathless did die, praise to the great Maleonarial. Mage scribes from that day forward no longer gave life for Her magic—
Sayshun, late of Lithua, looked up from the page. “Mage scribes? Really? I can’t believe this is still required reading.”
“Consider it informed metaphor.” Her new friend and classmate didn’t stop writing, tongue sticking out sideways in concentration, wings neatly folded.
“If magic agrees with your intent, you create with it. If it doesn’t, you create in other ways. Everyone knows that.”
With a laugh that smelled like roses, her friend put down her pen and gave her full attention. “You left one out. If you are magic,” the gossamer said, “you share a name.”
Sayshun shook her head. “That again? You can’t all be Tananen.”
Topaz eyes sparkled. “Don’t be so sure.”
KEY TO WITHIN
ealyon, meaning: “promised to The Lady”, pronounced: e-A-lee-on
eonarial, meaning: “debtor to The Lady”, pronounced: e-on-AIR-ial
acolyte
woman who has received Her Gift and chooses to serve the hold daughter and The Lady; willing to give her life to The Lady as Her Designate
Affarealyon
Alden’s Hold Daughter
Alden Hold
hold that stands between the mage school and rest of the world
Ansibel
servant at the mage school
Aote
heartland holding; one of the holds cleansed by The Lady
Arcoeonarial (only as Arco)
master mage scribe
Arnsey (“Bitters”)
crew on russet barge, husband of Nanse, twin of Senert
Atta Moss
one of the three daughters of Woodshaven
Ban
student at mage school
Bense Groomson
driver of Insom’s freight wagon
Bettealyon
acolyte of Tiler’s Hold
Boulderton
village in Nor Holding
Braneonarial
Saeleonarial’s younger brother; now a master mage
Burgan d’Struth
mapmaker from Whitehold Isles
Callen
student at mage school
Caton
author in mage school archives
Cil
Riverhill knacker’s apprentice
Corvinas
author in mage school archives; wrote Fundamental Lexicon of Tananen Vol. 1
Damesen
title used in holds with elaborate courts to indicate a woman of the highest possible rank (not a Daughter)
Dancers
great beasts who dig silt from the canals, leaving it along the banks
Darksmeri
month corresponding to our December
Daughter
person with Her Gift able to speak Her Words; selected to rule the Daughter’s Portion and reveal the dictates of The Lady to the holding
Daughter’s Portion
area from which daughter and acolytes observe the court
Daveonarial
master mage scribe
Derren
northern holding
Dinus
author in mage school archives
Dolren Keeperson
Insom’s manservant
Domozuk (Dom)
Saeleonarial’s servant (scribemaster’s)
Eaples
servant at the mage school
Ella
prospect for Tiler’s Hold Daughter from Meadton
Enyon
author in mage school archives
Esteonarial (Est)
master mage scribe
Ferden Haulerson
Kait’s mother’s brother; Leksand’s great-uncle; lives with them both
firemoths
made-moths able to start fires; popular student project
Fisherson
Sael and Bran’s last name before becoming mage scribes
Fujin
author in mage school archives
Garrod
author in mage school archives
Gillib
northern holding
Gudrun
author in mage school archives
Grafeonarial
master mage scribe
Hardly Bakerson
servant at mage school; grandparents have bakery in Alden Hold
Harn Guardson
student mage scribe who accompanies Saeleonarial
Harneonarial
the name Harn would earn once a mage
Helly Pelly Creek
stream that runs through mage school to border marsh and canal near Alden
Helthrom River
largest river in Tananen, empties into Snarlen Sea at Tiler’s Hold
Her Fist
mountain ranges protecting Tananen
Her Gift
a connection to The Lady that arrives in a dream at puberty; women with Her Gift serve The Lady and help govern; men with Her Gift become mage scribes
Her Mouth
sheltered harbor at Tiler’s Hold; where the Helthrom River empties into the Snarlen Sea
Her Soul
tower reputed to be in the middle of Her Tears; home of The Lady
Her Tears
mist-shrouded fen hiding Her Soul
hold, holding
hold = capital city; holding = province
Ichep
country across the sea; trades at Tiler’s; known for clever clockworks, etc.
Icot
holding in the mountains known for its lapis mines
Ingleton
author in mage school archives
inkmaster
devoted to the science of better inks
Insom Fisherson
Insom’s name before becoming hold lord
Insom the Second
Tiler’s Hold Lord. Pylor’s cousin
Jowen Hammerson
inkmaster at Tankerton
Kait Alder
one of the three daughters of Woodshaven; mother of Leksand
Kaitealyon
Kait Alder’s name in more formal courts
Kaitie
Kait’s nickname
Lekeonarial
Leksand’s name should he become a mage scribe
Leksand Loggerson
Kait’s son; father Rogeonarial
Leorealyon
acolyte of Tiler’s Hold; chosen as Her Witness and Designate
Lightsmeri
month corresponding to our May
Lithua
country on a distant continent; trades at Tiler’s
Locel
northern holding
loremaster
anyone who studies the magic of Tananen
mage scribe
one with Her Gift able to write an intention using Her Words and create what didn’t live before
Mal Merchantson
Maleonarial’s name before becoming a mage scribe
Maleonarial
former scribemaster and loremaster; known as the hermit mage since leaving that post
master mage scribe
a mage scribe who has learned all he can from the mage school and goes forth to do magic-for-hire; masters retire to the school to teach
Meadton
village in Tiler’s Holding
Merr
northern holding
Mish
prospect for Tiler’s Hold Daughter
Nabo
author in mage school archives
Nanse Heronsbill
bargemaster of the russet barge
Napen
northern holding
Nathrom River
river in Tananen
Nedsom
Alden’s Hold Lord
Nelisti Barnswallow
cook at the mage school
Nicti
author in mage school archives
Nim Millerson
farmer from Riverhill
Nor Hold
capital of Nor, a heartland holding
Ottle
author in mage school archives
Ovon
northern holding
Pacthrom River
river in Tananen
Pageonarial
master mage scribe and historian
Pincel Hopper
one of Woodshaven’s daughters
Pylor Ternfeather, Damesen
Insom’s cousin, chemist, very high rank in court at Tiler’s Hold
Rid Smithyson
scribemaster’s driver
Riverhill
village in Tiler holding
Rogeonarial
mage scribe who fathered Kait’s son in Woodshaven
Rost
student at mage school
Sael Fisherson
Saeleonarial’s name before becoming a mage scribe
Saeleonarial
scribemaster
Sayshun
student at mage school
scribemaster
head of mage school; represents it to hol
dings
Senert
crew on the russet barge; twin brother of Arnsey
Singers
great beasts who grasp barges and pull them upstream along the canal using their wings
Slog
monster living in one of the mage school ponds
Snarlen Sea
ocean bordering Tananen
Sult
northern holding
Surano
island in the Whitehold Isles famed for glass work
Tambler’s Inn
tavern in Alden Hold
Tananen
domain where The Lady rules
Tankerton
village in Icot holding
Tarr
northern holding
Tercle Kelptassle
Pylor’s apprentice and friend; chemist; Tiler’s Hold
Terrhom River
river in Tananen
The Brutes
rocky islands forming a barrier near Her Mouth
The Hunger
treacherous strait between The Brutes and Tananen
Tiler’s Hold, Tiler’s Holding
only place in Tananen touched by the outside world
Tobin Piperson
student at mage school
Toneonarial
mage scribe who wrote/created Slog
Urray
author of book in mage school archives
Ursealyon
senior acolyte at Tiler’s Hold
Wend Sharktooth
Wendealyon’s name before becoming Hold Daughter
Wendealyon
Hold Daughter of Tiler’s Hold
Whitehold Isles
archipelago of islands that form a country; trade at Tiler’s
Woodshaven
remote mountain village in Tiler’s Holding
Xareonarial
master mage scribe teaching at the school
Xcel
heartland holding; one of the holds cleansed by The Lady
Xol
heartland holding
Zor
northern holding
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Unusual roots, this book has. Mage began as a novella for Eric Flint, eleven years earlier. Thinking it’d be science fiction, I set aside time for it, only to learn it had to be fantasy. Since I’d yet to write more than a short story, I—hesitated.
For one thing, I’d no ideas. (Other than my imaginings of what would become A Turn of Light.) Then I flipped through our Lee Valley Tools catalog and read about pens. I became consumed with the notion of written magic, of pens and inks, and of magic that lived. All of which would have stayed there, as the novella, except that I loved the concepts and world with such passion, I told my editor-dear, Sheila Gilbert (of two Hugos, yay!), I’d inadvertently discovered a book. She agreed with me.