The Dreamer's Curse (Book 2) by Honor Raconteur Page B

far from Chastain. Although
the idiot would be plenty reachable if he would just let her put a clock in his
area. Why he had to be so stubborn about his privacy, she had no idea.
    No matter what Jacen might or might not know, no Artifactor
or magician in the known world could defeat a level sixteen spell. They just
didn’t have enough power to do so on their own, not without creating a spell of
a higher level—and such a thing wasn’t possible. No matter how she thought
about it, basic math and elementology still applied to the situation. It would
take two casters, at least , to defeat this monstrosity and bring it back
under control again.
    Sevana shifted slightly to avoid having her whole backend
become numb. Sitting cross-legged here on the cobblestones probably didn’t
count as the brightest of ideas. But she didn’t feel like moving yet—despite
her tingling legs. She just kept thinking that if she sat here staring long
enough, a brilliant solution would just come to her and she wouldn’t have to do
this the hard way.
    Her gut said otherwise.
    Decker came to her side and dropped down onto his haunches
without saying a word. For several moments they stared at the fountain in
companionable silence, neither of them looking at the other. “You’re stuck,
aren’t you?”
    “Not exactly,” she grumbled. “I can think of three possible
solutions.”
    “But?” he encouraged.
    “ But …none of the solutions can be done alone.” She
heaved out a resigned sigh. Who was she trying to fool? “Stone the crows, I
might as well face it. I’m going to have to split the commission.”
    “It’s going to take two people?”
    She propped her chin into both hands, balancing her elbows
on her knees so that she hunched over. “I don’t have enough power. Even
borrowing the power of other elements, the castor of an incantation has to add
their power into the mix as well to actually activate a spell. I cannot
come up with anything that will defeat a sixteen level spell, not on my own.
Even with another person it’s going to be a mite tricky.”
    “How so?” Decker’s brows were furrowed in a worried frown.
    “Blending magic with someone else takes more than power. It
takes complete trust in the other person’s skills, their instincts, and a
certain amount of experience in working with them.”
    Decker studied her profile for a moment before offering,
“You sound as if you already have someone in mind.”
    “I do. Let’s hope he’s available.” Otherwise she’d call in
Master, who was harder to deal with. Shifting to one hip, she dug around in her
pouch until she found her miniature Caller.  Setting it on the ground in front
of her, she enunciated clearly, “Sarsen.”
    Several seconds ticked by before the Caller lifted its head
and assumed Sarsen’s rather lanky features. “ Sev! Now this is a surprise.
You hardly ever contact me. ”
    “Got a job I could use an assist on. You free?”
    “The last time you called me in for ‘help’ I was up to my
eyebrows in espionage, politics and frozen mobs.”
    “Is that a complaint I hear?” she demanded wryly.
    “Sweet mercy, no! Most fun I’ve had in ages. So what
category does this job fall into? Fun, dangerous, or dangerously fun?”
    “Yes,” she told him seriously.
    “Excellent. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Where are
you, anyway?”
    “Chastain Village.”
    “Where?” he asked in bewilderment.
    “Windamere-Kindin border,” she elaborated with forced
patience. “A little west of Vanorman.”
    “Ahh. I know Vanorman. Alright, I should be able to find
you quickly enough. It’ll take me three days to get there, though. I’m at
Master’s right now.”
    Oh? “In that case, if he has any dragon’s breath or a wind
element of its same power level, bring it with you.” She had a hunch she would
need it.
    “You want me to filch from Master’s stores?” the
twenty-nine year old objected in true horror, making a sign with his hands that
warded