The Young Magician

in the minds of the evil and demented. Do not search for such things, Samuel. Magicians do not speak of the Lick because it is one of the few forbidden topics of the Order. If you found some writings, destroy them and do not look for more.’

‘But-’

‘This is my advice to you, Samuel,’ Lomar said sternly and sounding quite out of character. ‘There are few things so dangerous that we cannot even look or hear or think of them, but the Lick is one.’

Samuel could not help but be disappointed. He had thought perhaps the Ancient Lick would be some new marvellous area for him to study.

‘Now, I would like to stay longer,’ Lomar continued, and his tone had reverted to its usual pleasant self, ‘but I was not even supposed to stop in Cintar. I hope it is not so long before we meet again.’

‘It’s a shame you can’t stay longer.’

‘Yes, I must go. Order business keeps me forever busy. Farewell, Samuel, and good luck with everything.’ Lomar went to move away, then something occurred to him and he stopped.

‘On a serious note, Samuel, you should be wary of some of these men who come to persuade you. Balthazar is an amusing fellow, but some of the others can be dangerous.’

‘I had assumed the same, Lomar. I try to be polite to them and they quickly get the point.’

‘What about the Circle of Eyes? Ah, I see you have heard of them,’ he added upon noting Samuel’s reaction. ‘They are murderers, criminals, thieves and cut-throats, Samuel. Some of them are even magicians. I have yet to see any real proof of their existence, but I do not doubt they do exist, judging from the rumours alone. If you meet them, Samuel, be careful. I hear they do not always take “no” for an answer.’

‘I understand, Lomar. I’ll be careful.’

With that, Lomar bade farewell and gave one of his most beaming smiles. He then strode away, leaving Samuel alone with his yard full of leaves. Samuel sighed and dropped his rake to the ground and he, too, strode off, leaving the task behind. He would wait for a not so windy day.

The weeks seemed to pass as quickly as a single afternoon and, before Samuel knew it, everyone was talking about graduation and readying their spells. As usual, Samuel had been buried in his studies and did not realise the time had sneaked up on him quite so quickly. The apprentices spent the late afternoon busily rehearsing their spells and then putting on their cleanest, most formal robes. They gobbled down their dinners and, as they heard calls out in the yard, they all hurried out across the grounds to gather in the Great Hall. The benches had all been adjusted so as to form concentric circles around a clear space in the middle of the great chamber.

‘I heard the Archmage is coming,’ Eric Pot mentioned, as they squeezed sideways to their seats. The hall was full of excitement and chatter as everyone eagerly awaited the night’s events.

‘I don’t think so,’ Goodfellow corrected. ‘He never comes to things like this. He’s far too busy.’

‘Shh!’ someone urged them from behind, for Grand Master Anthem was readying to speak, and the entire congregation quickly fell silent. The old magician was adjusting his robes and talking to the other teachers seated around him. Then he turned to face the crowd of excited students and Masters alike. They were expecting some sort of long, formal speech, but the old Grand Master surprised them all by saying just a few words.

‘The graduation will now begin,’ he said with a childish grin and promptly sat back down.

Master Dividian then stood, coughed to clear his throat, and began his own address.

‘Welcome, everyone,’ he said, without any hint of amusement. His voice was dry and raspy. ‘Before we begin, I would like to say a few words. Tonight is a special night, for we choose those magicians that are ready to progress to the next stage of their education, be it from apprentice to Adept, or from Adept to Master. By the grace of His Utmost Highness the Emperor of Turia, and under the guidance of Archmage Ordi, the Order of Magicians has long produced the finest standard of magicians in the world. I trust we will continue that tradition tonight as we review some of the finest examples of budding magicians that we have to offer. For those Adept who will be leaving the school soon as Masters of the Order of Magicians, I hope you will always remember to uphold the fine reputation of our school, and remember that everything you do is for the good of the Empire and our most splendid Emperor.’

‘Hear! Hear!’ came a few calls of agreement from the crowd.

‘Damned Imperials!’ Eric whispered, leaning to Samuel’s ear.

Samuel chuckled as Master Dividian continued.

‘So without further delay, let us continue. Who is the first one?’ Dividian was passed a list. ‘Where are we now? Ah, Eric Pot.’

Eric almost leapt from his seat with surprise. He gave Samuel and Goodfellow a mischievous smile as he stood and adjusted his robes, coughing to clear his throat for good measure. He strode regally out into the centre of the Great Hall and waited patiently while Master Dividian continued his discussion with Grand Master Anthem and the other teachers. Finally, Master Dividian returned his attention to Eric, adjusting his spectacles and staring out at the patient apprentice.

‘Eric,’ Master Dividian called out quite loudly, ‘Ebanda totum ara.’

Eric raised an eyebrow and did as he was told, bending down and touching his toes.

‘Very good,’ Dividian continued. ‘Your knowledge of the Old Tongue seems reasonable. Now please demonstrate what you have learned in your time here. I trust you have prepared a suitable spell.’

Eric reached into a pocket and produced a small, sealed pouch. Without a pause, he loosened the drawstring and flicked the contents up into the air. A stream of glittering dust sprayed out, filling the air but, as quick as a flash, Eric had formed a power matrix with one hand and his spell was set. The glittering powder was caught in the spell and instead of spilling down onto the floor, flew up higher towards the beamed ceiling, carried by magic. Eric stood erect, with one hand resting behind his back, and the other held before him, directing his spell with slight movements of his raised finger. The glitter began to gather into long ribbons and began rippling around the ceiling, coiling and darting almost as if it were some golden serpent brought to life. The congregation applauded, clapping their hands together and nodding to each other with approval. Samuel was also greatly impressed. To direct each individual speck of glitter was, of course impossible, but Eric’s spell was ingenious and quite a masterwork of efficiency. Only the head of the spell need be directed and each speck of glitter followed in turn. Samuel applauded as loud as he could, for his friend’s spell was remarkable.

The golden serpent flew sinuously around the ceiling, darting from wall to wall, spinning in circular formations and streaking down around the congregation. Finally, Eric held his small sack aloft and the glittering stream snaked down towards it and darted in as quickly as lightning, disappearing right into the tiny pouch. To finish, Eric made a small bow and the crowd applauded once more. A great grin was set on his face and it was obvious that he, too, was pleased with his own display.

‘Nice work, young man,’ Dividian called out as Eric returned to his seat. ‘I hope the rest of your peers can be as creative.’

Samuel and Goodfellow both patted Eric heartily on the back as he sat down and the next apprentice was called: a boy from Dormitory Two. The other boys were each called one by one, each answering a simple question in the Old Tongue and demonstrating some spell of their own design. Most spells were not nearly as impressive as Eric’s, especially as Samuel had seen most of them practising beforehand, and they had only few surprises. One student made a strong wind so everyone had to hold onto their robes, another cooled the air so everyone was shivering. Chadly Doon made a variety of sounds come from places other than they really did, which was quite novel, but not much more than an extension of a spell they had learned in class. One boy, Mason, attempted to fill the room with the scent of roses, but instead summoned the foul stench of rotting eggs. It caused quite an upset as everyone had to file outside while the Masters cleaned out the air with some spells of their own.

‘Well,’ Dividian announced as they recommenced the proceedings, ‘I’m sure the Order can find some use for that kind of smell-I mean, spell-somewhere.’

At that, everyone broke into laughter, except for poor Mason, who looked even more embarrassed.

So far, Samuel felt somewhat disappointed with the efforts of his peers. Aside from Eric, their spells had been nothing much more complicated than what they had already learned in class. Earlier on, Samuel had felt a little anxious, but now he felt sure his spell would be the greatest of the evening.

‘Samuel!’ Goodfellow whispered beside him. ‘They’re calling you.’

Samuel awoke from his daydreaming with a start and jumped to his feet. He stepped out into the centre of the chamber, trying to walk as gracefully as he could. He had been planning his presentation quite carefully, and so