“Yes. They’ve approved the test.”
It was evident that the vote had not been unanimous, but it passed, and enough mages shared Gawain’s spirit of selflessness that they offered some of their own gifts to the cause. The ancient man and the quiet woman who had asked the best questions offered three gifts apiece, and, surprising to Vera, Ratamun offered up five of his own, so Gawain only needed to release nine to meet the agreed-upon number.
They gathered in the open space, the rest of the council and the royal party watching. Gawain passed his instrument to Arthur to hold.
“How do we do it?” the quiet mage, who Vera learned was called Phoebe, asked in her tiny voice.
“It’s exactly like when you would give a gift to another person, but focus on the earth … dirt or grass or trees,” Gawain said. “Whatever part of nature you need to call to mind, and then …”
“Release,” Phoebe finished for him.
Ratamun smirked as he rolled the sleeves of his robe up. “What if one of us lies and gives fewer gifts than we vowed?”
“If the instrument works, we should be able to count, and we would know,” said Gawain. “If it doesn’t work? Nothing will happen.”
Gawain went first. He steadied himself, closed his eyes in a silence that stretched on for long seconds, and then breathed the deliberate and sacred breath as he extended his hand, palm down before him. Nothing notably changed, but Arthur made a hum of approval beside Vera, and all eyes pooled on him.
A swirl of gel-like liquid bubbled up from nothingness into the tube. At first glance, it was all the same silvery sheen. But from another angle, there were sharp delineations and, indeed, nine separate and countable sections, each a slightly different color.
At that, the mages stirred. Naiam sucked in a sharp breath. One by one, the three mages who’d volunteered also released their gifts, and the tube slowly filled.
“The gifts are in circulation?” Ratamun said, moving closer to Arthur and the instrument.
Gawain’s hand flinched toward Ratamun as if to stop him, but the mage was out of his reach. “Yes,” he said.
Naiam did not look pleased. “So it appears.” She drummed her fingers on the desk as she scanned the room. “We will reconvene at first light to see what comes of this experiment.”
Merlin’s lips parted. He watched the instrument in Arthur’s hands in disbelief. Ratamun bent low over the globe, shifting his head back and forth between two angles.
“They’re all a different color,” he mumbled, eyes glinting. “Can you tell what each power is?”
Gawain shifted uncomfortably. “No,” he said sharply. “Only the number. There is no way to know anything more.”
The smirk never left Ratamun’s face. “As you say.”
It felt like a victory—until they got out of the Magesary and into the quiet of Vera’s chamber at the inn where she, Arthur, Lancelot, and Merlin convened. Merlin’s tight expression betrayed the anger simmering under the surface of his calm.
“Why didn’t you tell me this was your plan?” he said through gritted teeth.
“Because I knew you’d stop me,” Gawain said.
Merlin huffed. “Of course I would have. Even if you’re correct, this was an ambush. It was not the way. You’re going to be expelled from the Magesary at the least.”
“I know,” Gawain said. “But you know as well as I that if it hadn’t been an ambush—if the king hadn’t been sitting in that room, they would not even have entertained it.”
Merlin’s face filled with sorrow as he looked at Gawain. It frightened Vera.
“And Ratamun’s suspicion about your instrument?” Merlin said.
Gawain nodded. “He knows how it might be used.”
“How might it be used?” Arthur asked. He held the instrument cupped in his lap where he sat.
“Ratamun correctly guessed that this tool is the foundation to sense what gifts someone has and how many,” Gawain said. “I knew that was a risk in revealing it.”
“Not a risk,” Merlin corrected. “An inevitability.” He directed the next at Arthur. “Ratamun is one among us who believes in the great gifts. Immortality and invincibility are the two most sought-after. He, and others for that matter, would want nothing more than the ability to sense and track those gifts. And take them, no matter the cost: enemy, friend, family …”
Vera could imagine the danger of such a power, but not in Gawain’s hands. He would never use the gift that way.
