In the meantime, you must just trust me. Come on." He turned back to the east. "Let's get there."
"No." I stopped, and he walked several paces before he noticed and turned back to me. I glared at him. "I need you to tell me something."
"What's that?" He sounded impatient, and stamped his foot unconsciously.
"Why were you so cruel to Jemminor?"
"What looks like cruelty can often be a kindness," he said with a carefully cryptic air. He turned his back on me and started down the road again, but I did not budge.
"That's not good enough," I said, and my voice sounded loud through the patter of cold rain. "Tell me why."
Claighan turned back to me again. He held my eyes for a moment, and then said with gravity, "He is a small man who has gotten very good at pretending to be something better."
I shook my head. "That's not it either." Claighan opened his mouth to argue, to hurry me on down the road, but I stepped closer. "It was something to do with me."
He narrowed his eyes. And then he came a step back to me, searching in my eyes. Instead of answering, he said, "What would it have to do with you?"
"I don't know," I said, giving him half a shrug. "There was something you wanted me to see. Perhaps you just wanted to make sure I didn't go back, that I would see them for the monsters they were, but you didn't...." He shook his head in a slow no, and I trailed off. He held my eyes for a moment, then jerked his head on down the road. After a moment I nodded and we started walking again.
"It wasn't that," he said.
I nodded. "Then why?"
"You were right. Surprisingly right. There was something I wanted you to see."
I thought for a moment, replaying last night's events in my head. "Sherrim? Something about—"
He shook his head. "No. I have no interest in Sherrim. Or Jemminor."
"Me? You didn't show me anything about me! It was all Jemm's misdeeds. Jemm's mistreatment. Jemm's greed."
He frowned, just the corner of his mouth turned down, but I felt his disappointment. I fell silent, mind racing. After a while I sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't know. I can't see the subtlety to it because it was all so strange. I had never considered them like that. Never even considered how I fit into it."
Just like that his frown disappeared, and his eyes glittered. He shook a finger at me. "Precisely," he said.
I closed my eyes, moving automatically at his side. "I don't understand."
"It is what we spoke of before. You have lived too much of your life in the context of your past. You accepted your lot on Jemminor's farm because it was better than what you had experienced before. Not because it was as good as you deserved —"
"No," I said. "I mean no disrespect, Master, but that is not a luxury of my class." I growled deep in my throat. "I cannot live by what should be. I live or die by what is."
He didn't answer immediately. He watched me. Then he sighed. "As I said before, you are a physical one. Practical. And that is a problem."
I shook my head. "No, wizard. That is the only reason I'm still alive."
"I won't argue that," he said. "But that will be a problem for your Academy training." He fixed me with his piercing eyes, and I felt suddenly naked. Deeply exposed. "The wizard lives in the world of what should be. What might be. What could be. For a wizard, 'what is' is just a starting point."
I nodded, but my head began to spin. I opened my mouth to answer but felt a sudden dizziness, a wave of nausea that gripped me, and I clenched my jaw against it. I focused on the road for a half dozen paces before the feeling passed, and I nodded again. "Let's walk for a while."
He didn't look my way, didn't see the moment of weakness. And he seemed glad of my suggestion. "Yes," he said. "We should press as hard as we can. There are terrible things happening in the world, and I seem to have challenged them to a footrace."
I fought through another wave of dizziness, and focused on keeping up with him.
Later the shower trailed off. The unrisen
"No." I stopped, and he walked several paces before he noticed and turned back to me. I glared at him. "I need you to tell me something."
"What's that?" He sounded impatient, and stamped his foot unconsciously.
"Why were you so cruel to Jemminor?"
"What looks like cruelty can often be a kindness," he said with a carefully cryptic air. He turned his back on me and started down the road again, but I did not budge.
"That's not good enough," I said, and my voice sounded loud through the patter of cold rain. "Tell me why."
Claighan turned back to me again. He held my eyes for a moment, and then said with gravity, "He is a small man who has gotten very good at pretending to be something better."
I shook my head. "That's not it either." Claighan opened his mouth to argue, to hurry me on down the road, but I stepped closer. "It was something to do with me."
He narrowed his eyes. And then he came a step back to me, searching in my eyes. Instead of answering, he said, "What would it have to do with you?"
"I don't know," I said, giving him half a shrug. "There was something you wanted me to see. Perhaps you just wanted to make sure I didn't go back, that I would see them for the monsters they were, but you didn't...." He shook his head in a slow no, and I trailed off. He held my eyes for a moment, then jerked his head on down the road. After a moment I nodded and we started walking again.
"It wasn't that," he said.
I nodded. "Then why?"
"You were right. Surprisingly right. There was something I wanted you to see."
I thought for a moment, replaying last night's events in my head. "Sherrim? Something about—"
He shook his head. "No. I have no interest in Sherrim. Or Jemminor."
"Me? You didn't show me anything about me! It was all Jemm's misdeeds. Jemm's mistreatment. Jemm's greed."
He frowned, just the corner of his mouth turned down, but I felt his disappointment. I fell silent, mind racing. After a while I sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't know. I can't see the subtlety to it because it was all so strange. I had never considered them like that. Never even considered how I fit into it."
Just like that his frown disappeared, and his eyes glittered. He shook a finger at me. "Precisely," he said.
I closed my eyes, moving automatically at his side. "I don't understand."
"It is what we spoke of before. You have lived too much of your life in the context of your past. You accepted your lot on Jemminor's farm because it was better than what you had experienced before. Not because it was as good as you deserved —"
"No," I said. "I mean no disrespect, Master, but that is not a luxury of my class." I growled deep in my throat. "I cannot live by what should be. I live or die by what is."
He didn't answer immediately. He watched me. Then he sighed. "As I said before, you are a physical one. Practical. And that is a problem."
I shook my head. "No, wizard. That is the only reason I'm still alive."
"I won't argue that," he said. "But that will be a problem for your Academy training." He fixed me with his piercing eyes, and I felt suddenly naked. Deeply exposed. "The wizard lives in the world of what should be. What might be. What could be. For a wizard, 'what is' is just a starting point."
I nodded, but my head began to spin. I opened my mouth to answer but felt a sudden dizziness, a wave of nausea that gripped me, and I clenched my jaw against it. I focused on the road for a half dozen paces before the feeling passed, and I nodded again. "Let's walk for a while."
He didn't look my way, didn't see the moment of weakness. And he seemed glad of my suggestion. "Yes," he said. "We should press as hard as we can. There are terrible things happening in the world, and I seem to have challenged them to a footrace."
I fought through another wave of dizziness, and focused on keeping up with him.
Later the shower trailed off. The unrisen
Similar Books
