My pupils had rearranged themselves, so I took a step back to observe them in action. Everyone was following my instructions, with varying degrees of success. The most effective were Onvar and Zedal, fighting to my right. Zedal was fighting with a heavy quarterstaff while Onvar wielded a two-handed sword. They were taking turns feinting and letting the other get in for the real attack. As I watched, Onvar drew a snatcher’s attention while Zedal caught the bird with a heavy blow that caved in its chest.
It was clear that the unvaried approach the initiates had taken at the start wasn’t due to a lack of skill or attention. The priests who taught them in Tahlis’ absence had done little to encourage the varied attacks needed to win a fight.
By now, most of the plumed snatchers were down, either dead or dying, but a few fought furiously on. I stowed my weapons and held my hands out in front of me to channel a Burning Wheel. A whirlwind of fire formed between my hands, spinning faster and more intensely with each moment. I released it, and it ripped through the middle of the snatchers. One went down in flames while the rest squawked in terror and turned wildly around, looking to see where the fire went. I drew my sword and joined the initiates in finishing off the last of the monstrous birds.
“Yeah!” Drek and Fig high-fived each other. The others smiled and looked around in satisfaction.
“We’re not done yet,” I said. “Knives out and gather the cores.”
We sliced open the corpses of the plumed snatchers and retrieved their magical cores. Choshi explained that I would need five to learn the Sandstorm technique, so I kept five for myself and shared the rest out among the students who hadn’t learned it yet. While the others stood watch, we each absorbed our cores, and I felt the power of earth grow stronger inside me. It took a lot longer for the others to consume the cores, but I didn’t want them to feel bad, so I sat there with my eyes closed until they were all done.
“Well done, everyone,” I said. “You all have areas where you need to improve, but you put in excellent work there. Onvar and Zedal, that was some particularly fine teamwork at the end.”
“Thank you, Master,” they said and bowed their heads.
“I’m not sure I qualify as a master,” I said.
“Are you kidding?” Drek exclaimed. “The way you sliced through those beasts like they were nothing at all?”
“And your powers,” Elorinelle said, her eyes wide.
“Thanks,” I said. “Remember, this is what comes with practice.”
“Yes, Master,” they said, all nodding eagerly.
I surveyed the Vigorous Zone that lay open before us. I needed to find somewhere I could take my pupils, somewhere that would offer them more challenges and opportunities to develop their skills. And, of course, somewhere I could acquire more cores. There was also the possibility of learning combination techniques, the kind that could combine earth with the other elements I’d mastered.
Across the valley was a particularly desolate patch of ground. The earth was barren and dusty, with pale bones scattered amid the dirt. Stone cairns rose in irregular lines across it, the remnants of some ancient cemetery. It had clearly not been occupied for centuries, but I could feel the power radiating from it.
“We’re going there,” I said as I pointed to it.
“The desert boneyard?” Elorinelle stared at me. “But it’s supposed to be haunted. No one goes there.”
“Actually, the higher guild members do,” Onvar said. “They go there to gain more powerful cores and attune their abilities. I’ve heard them talking about it.” He squinted across the valley. “But we’re not high guild members, so maybe we shouldn’t.”
“Listen to me,” I said. “Right now, you’re the highest members of your guild after Master Tahlis. You’re the only ones with any backbone, the only ones who walk a true path, and so, you are the only ones who count. You’ve shown me twice now that you can handle yourselves, and you’re getting better every time you fight. You can do this.”
“Yes, Master,” they said, and even Elorinelle smiled as if she believed it.
We tramped down the valley, across the dried-up river bed, and up the far side. The journey was another reminder of what was at stake here. The withered remains of rushes and parched skeletons of fish in what had once been the river’s muddy bottom were an unmissable testament to the fact that this had been a lush, healthy land before it was brought to ruin by the abuse of magic.
A wind blew down the valley, rustling the dead reeds and blowing the dust around. But as we walked up from the river bottom toward the boneyard, it died away. The air gained an unsettling stillness, as if we were walled off from the outside world, untouched by time.
Walking into the boneyard, I could see why people thought it was haunted. The bones and the cairns, relics of people lost to time, were all around us. I could almost imagine their voices whispering, coaxing me to lie down and let myself pass from this life.
But were weren’t there to give in to the void. We were there to find strength and life.
“Look for tracks,” I said. “See if you can find earth beasts for us to fight.”
We had spent a lot of the afternoon walking, so it was growing late in the afternoon as we set about exploring the boneyard. We moved in twos and threes so that no one would ever be caught on their own, and the groups stayed within a
