But does he passmytest? Can I trust him?
I point up at a branch, using a bare trace of magic to make it glow. My heart aches at how easy it is. “Would you fetch that one for me, please?”
Sierra.
A second later he’s in front of me, now with two sticks proffered. His eyebrows are up as he waits expectantly for me to tell him my decision.
That means I actually have to decide, and I don’t have much time.
I want to believe, that’s the shit of it. With magic in my hands again, and a person willing to have my back in a fight against High Earth, who will dare to dream with me.
But because I want to believe so badly, I don’t trust my instincts. I have wanted to believe before, and have, and been burned, when it mattered the most.
Nariel saved me before, but I really don’t have any way to know if he’s just hoping I power myself up so he can drain all my magic dry again.
Then again—by the time that becomes a question, I’ll have enough power to prevent him from doing so.
Well, maybe. I’ve never actually fought an angel. Even grand magi don’t fuck with them, so that’s probably not something I should be in a rush to try.
And even if Nariel is planning to use me like a battery—well, if I have access to all the magic in a world, I’ll be able to share it with other Low Earth wizards. I’m alreadyplanningon that. Why not spirits?
What do I even know about spirits? Not much, honestly.
But I know how to learn, and it isn’t by meeting up for coffee when there are no stakes.
It’s seeing what he does whenhisback is to the wall, and for that I have to keep him with me.
Nariel is waiting for me to finish thinking this through, but the longer I consider the more I see the wild light fading from his eyes.
I want it back.
“The spell that High Earth teaches Low Earth wizards to use—“
“Wizards?” he interrupts. “Not magi?”
I shrug. “It’s what High Earth calls Low Earthers who can use magic. I never used to use the term for myself, since I reject the principle that we’re fundamentally different. But wearedifferent, by the circumstances imposed on us, so I’m reclaiming it. We’ll see if it takes.”
“Wizards it is,” Nariel murmurs. “So?”
“They teach us a spell to expel magic and send it straight to High Earth,” I explain.
“You learned to modify the spell, to send magic into this grove.”
“Yes, but that’s not the point. Well, sort of. Thepointis that they’ve effectively taught me the rubric for how they’re stealing this world’s magic in the first place, along with enough theory to understand how it works. So I can also modify the spell to reverse it: All the magic that flows into their world from ours, I’ll draw it right back in.”
Nariel’s eyes widen. For a moment, he is absolutely speechless.
God, that’s satisfying. No one has appreciated what I can do for far too long.
“But as much as I love this grove, I can’t do it here,” I say. “For one thing, putting that spell into place is going to exhaust the reserve of magic I’ve built up here.”
“Which the grand magus realized, didn’t he?” Nariel asks shrewdly. “That’s why he said you’ll run out of magic.”
“Yes, and since he figured that out, unfortunately once he has another second to think he’s also going to realize I already have a plan for that. Because to keep High Earth from just reversing whatever spell I put in place, I’m going to need to anchor it in multiple places so they can’t undo it all at once. Three is thefewest that will work, so that’s what I’m aiming for to start. I can always expand it later.”
If I have a later.
Evram also wasn’t wrong that High Earth will now be trying to kill me, no matter what he personally might want—and I’m not sure he doesn’t want it now, too. He’s never really been sanguine about people who oppose him.
