Did it make the wrong people here?'
'Yes,' he lied, though mildly surprised she had remembered his mention of the inmates.
He had his own suspicions as to what – or rather, who – was warping their patients.
'And you want me to help you investigate it? We can be a team!' She chewed her lip. 'What's it called?'
His voice lowered further. 'It is nameless. If it had a name, speaking it would attract it. Even talking about it as we are now is dangerous: could bring it sniffing around the magical Wards around the Institute.'
'Ohhh!' she breathed, eyes alight. He had to hide a smile. 'But I can hunt it with the bow, can't I? You put magic on it.'
Hmm. He'd expected more fear. He needed her under stress. Still, if she had enough imagination for that, she should have enough to imagine her own extra dangers, too. 'Yes. But while my magic will let you hurt it, I have no spells to protect you . You will have to do that yourself: if you can.'
'But if it's unvisible, how will I know where to shoot?'
' In visible. You will have to sharpen your other senses. Train them.'
She nodded, wide-eyed.
'Now, knowing all that – do you still want to venture outside?'
'Yeah!'
'Very well – let's go.'
Outside, together, they worked out how to fire the arrow.
'Do you think it's nearby?' she whispered, standing close beside him, her voice lowered.
He frowned, then pretended to look around nervously. 'That's not a safe topic. Don't even think about it.'
For a few seconds, she looked annoyed, before a sudden rustle of leaves caught her attention. «He said it hunts in the wind» he heard her think, before she moved quietly off into the trees in the direction of the sound, not looking back.
He left her stalking cautiously through the gardens, hunting a figment of her imagination.
If his theory was correct, stress and pain were essential for anyone to unfold magically. So this way he could use her own mind – and a little judicious magic – to apply some of the necessary pressure. He walked back inside, well satisfied.
Standing at a third-floor window of one of the unused offices, he watched her stalk through the woods. Now to cement its reality in her mind.
He cast the telekinesis spell and began very subtly helping her imagination along. She immediately noticed the unusual movements of the branches, the slight disturbances of the fallen leaves. Expecting her to fire at the twitching foliage, instead she merely stilled, then crept closer.
He spent five minutes – far longer than he had intended – leading her a merry chase through the edges of the woodlands that surrounded the main building. It was surprisingly difficult to induce her to shoot, he discovered, unless he provided sets of movements. To do so he himself had to imagine a suitable creature moving through the vegetation, and telekinese multiple objects at the same time. The concentration required was very like juggling. It was with considerable relief that he sent her deeper into the trees and out of his sight, forcing him to drop his spell.
Back downstairs, in the now-empty cafeteria, he unfolded the colorful circles of the shiny target that had come with the toy bow – and which she had completely ignored. He tossed it into the recycler with a smile.
-
Later that afternoon, with his new young ward reluctantly in tow, he knocked on the Director's door. At the jovial 'Enter!' he opened it and ushered Sara inside ahead of him.
'Ah, Dr Harmon, come in!' The Director gestured them inside. 'And this young lady must be Sara, yes? Please, come in, have a seat. I have cookies.'
Harmon turned, catching the way her shoulders hunched defensively, and wished Sanders had chosen a different phrase. 'Sara, you are not in trouble.' He turned back to the older man. 'I gather the nuns referred to Sara as “young lady” when they disciplined her, Professor.'
Sanders looked distressed, which
'Yes,' he lied, though mildly surprised she had remembered his mention of the inmates.
He had his own suspicions as to what – or rather, who – was warping their patients.
'And you want me to help you investigate it? We can be a team!' She chewed her lip. 'What's it called?'
His voice lowered further. 'It is nameless. If it had a name, speaking it would attract it. Even talking about it as we are now is dangerous: could bring it sniffing around the magical Wards around the Institute.'
'Ohhh!' she breathed, eyes alight. He had to hide a smile. 'But I can hunt it with the bow, can't I? You put magic on it.'
Hmm. He'd expected more fear. He needed her under stress. Still, if she had enough imagination for that, she should have enough to imagine her own extra dangers, too. 'Yes. But while my magic will let you hurt it, I have no spells to protect you . You will have to do that yourself: if you can.'
'But if it's unvisible, how will I know where to shoot?'
' In visible. You will have to sharpen your other senses. Train them.'
She nodded, wide-eyed.
'Now, knowing all that – do you still want to venture outside?'
'Yeah!'
'Very well – let's go.'
Outside, together, they worked out how to fire the arrow.
'Do you think it's nearby?' she whispered, standing close beside him, her voice lowered.
He frowned, then pretended to look around nervously. 'That's not a safe topic. Don't even think about it.'
For a few seconds, she looked annoyed, before a sudden rustle of leaves caught her attention. «He said it hunts in the wind» he heard her think, before she moved quietly off into the trees in the direction of the sound, not looking back.
He left her stalking cautiously through the gardens, hunting a figment of her imagination.
If his theory was correct, stress and pain were essential for anyone to unfold magically. So this way he could use her own mind – and a little judicious magic – to apply some of the necessary pressure. He walked back inside, well satisfied.
Standing at a third-floor window of one of the unused offices, he watched her stalk through the woods. Now to cement its reality in her mind.
He cast the telekinesis spell and began very subtly helping her imagination along. She immediately noticed the unusual movements of the branches, the slight disturbances of the fallen leaves. Expecting her to fire at the twitching foliage, instead she merely stilled, then crept closer.
He spent five minutes – far longer than he had intended – leading her a merry chase through the edges of the woodlands that surrounded the main building. It was surprisingly difficult to induce her to shoot, he discovered, unless he provided sets of movements. To do so he himself had to imagine a suitable creature moving through the vegetation, and telekinese multiple objects at the same time. The concentration required was very like juggling. It was with considerable relief that he sent her deeper into the trees and out of his sight, forcing him to drop his spell.
Back downstairs, in the now-empty cafeteria, he unfolded the colorful circles of the shiny target that had come with the toy bow – and which she had completely ignored. He tossed it into the recycler with a smile.
-
Later that afternoon, with his new young ward reluctantly in tow, he knocked on the Director's door. At the jovial 'Enter!' he opened it and ushered Sara inside ahead of him.
'Ah, Dr Harmon, come in!' The Director gestured them inside. 'And this young lady must be Sara, yes? Please, come in, have a seat. I have cookies.'
Harmon turned, catching the way her shoulders hunched defensively, and wished Sanders had chosen a different phrase. 'Sara, you are not in trouble.' He turned back to the older man. 'I gather the nuns referred to Sara as “young lady” when they disciplined her, Professor.'
Sanders looked distressed, which
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