“Right,” Drew said, and he climbed out of bed. “It looks like I’ve got a lot to learn. Best get to it. Shall we drop by for a visit with the Grand Master and see what he can teach me about tapping into this supposed power of mine?”
Hope welled in Zach’s chest, and he had to blink back tears. “I like the way you think, Drew,” he whispered, and as he climbed from the bed, for a fleeting moment, he felt the weight of his wings at his back.
Schooled
Learning magic washard.For something he had managed completely by accident, Drew thought it wouldn’t take much to tap into it again, but in a controlled manner. He was so very, very wrong.
Sunday had turned out to be bright and warm when they left the apartment, and for a very brief moment, Drew had been tempted to ditch his plans to go and beg Kensington for help and to drag Zach out for a day of fun in the sun instead. The idea of heading up to Parksville to see Todd was tempting. Not only would it be good to see his friend, but the sand-sculpting competition was on and they could spend time down at the beach checking it out. It always left him amazed at the art people could create from simple sand. Todd might even drive them up to Coombs so they could head to the markets there and get an ice cream. Drew could just picture Zach’s baffled expression when he saw the goats that lived on the grass-covered roof of the old market building. He would find it so perplexing and Drew would have fun making up absurd stories as to the origins of the goats.
But Zach was depending on him.
So instead of hopping on a bus and heading north, Drew ordered a rideshare and they went south to Ladysmith instead. They knocked on the door of the Nightingale Collective and instead of Simon it was Kensington himself who answered it.
He looked less than impressed to see them there, but he held the door open and welcomed them inside nonetheless. “How can I help you today, Mr Phillips?”
“I’m here to ask for your help,” Drew said as they stepped into the large entrance hall.
One of his perfectly manicured eyebrows rose over a bright green eye. Seriously, did he and Zach take classes to learn how to do that? Drew could hardly coordinate both eyebrows at once, let alone one at a time. “What sort of help?” Kensington asked.
“Training. I need training.”
Kensington regarded him for a long moment, and Drew was sure that his mettle was being measured and judged. He must have passed the test, as the sorcerer finally nodded. “I can indeed help you there, Mr Phillips. However, you must agree to follow all of my instructions, no matter how tedious you may find them. You must also be dedicated to your studies. I understand you also attend university and therefore will need to split your time between both, but I will not tolerate laziness. If I am to sacrifice my very important time to train you, then I expect your complete dedication to the task. No slacking off, no half-hearted effort, no phoning it in. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal clear, Grand Master Kensington.”
“Pfft, none of that,” he said, flapping a hand in front of him. “Just call me Kensington.”
Drew smiled. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Let’s head down to the workshop,” Kensington said and led them down a different hallway than he had the day prior. “There’s more room for us to work in there.”
“We’re starting today?” Drew asked, surprised.
“There’s no time like the present. Come on, chop chop.”
Drew exchanged a bemused glance with Zach, but they obediently followed him down multiple hallways, proving once again that the building was much larger than it appeared from the outside. They eventually stopped in front of a pair of wide double doors, and Kensington pushed them open, revealing a large, airy room beyond. The vaulted ceiling was high, curving around to meet a windowed dome in the centre which allowed bright sunlight to stream inside and send dust motes dancing. Numerous workbenches were scattered around the room, some covered in leather-bound books, some with smoking beakers and jars full of odd-coloured liquids, and one was completely cleared of all objects but had several chalk symbols etched on the surface. Chairs and stools dotted the room randomly, and every inch of wall space was filled with overflowing bookcases and cabinets with odd-looking trinkets. On one shelf sat a squat clock that ticked loudly in the silence.
Kensington led them inside and directed Zach to a chair to one side of the room and Drew to the nearby table. “I understand the limitations of how far you can be separated from one another,” he said to Zach. “But I do ask you do not distract young Mr Phillips from his studies.”
Zach merely looked amused at this, and he graciously tilted his head in agreement. “Of course.”
“Very well, then,” Kensington said and turned back to Drew. “Let us start with the basics. You need to find your centre.”
Drew wished he could pull off the single-eyebrow raise so he could level it at Kensington, but had to settle for an incredulous look instead. “Seriously? Like those hippie yoga moms?”
The sorcerer’s eyes narrowed. “You agreed to do exactly as I say and yet you question the very first instruction I give you?”
Drew felt a little bad at that. He scrambled for something to excuse his flippancy. “Well, I mean, it just soundskind of . . . New Agey?”
Taking a deep breath, Kensington visibly gathered his patience. “Your magic sits inside you like a well of power. In order to access it, you need to be able to locate it. To do that, you need to find your centre. Without mastering this first step, you will never have control over your power and you will continue to wield it without aplomb or finesse, likely endangering not only yourself but others. I apologise if this sounds too ‘New Agey’ for you,” he said flatly. “But it is an essential part of the process.”
Duly chastised, Drew bowed his head. “Okay, I get it. I’m sorry.” He let out a long breath. “So, how do I find my centre?”
Kensington walked him through some breathing exercises very similar to meditation. Drew needed to connect with his body in a way he had never done before, but it seemed that each time he directed his attention inwards, his mind would distract him with thoughts of how silly this all was and how much he was going to fail. He tried to find the spark, the well of power that Kensington assured him was there, in his very core, but it constantly eluded him.
“It’s no use,” Drew cried after being unsuccessful after another hour of trying. He’d moved around the room, trying different positions, but none had worked. He slumped down against the bookcase he was sitting in front of and buried his face in his hands. “I’m never going to get this.”
“This first step is always the hardest,” Kensington assured him. “Once you have tapped into your centre once, it will become easier and easier to find until you can access it with the merest of thoughts.”
