think I'm going to regret that promise. What do pine trees have in common with magic? Nothing. But you've drawn it correctly, and on time. In truth, excellent for a virgin.'
Are you laughing at me?'
No. I rarely laugh. I really need to have a good reason to laugh. Concentrate on the next page, Surprise. There are rows of stars, circles, crosses and triangles drawn on it, a different number of
each shape in each row. Think and answer: how many stars should there be in the last row?'
'Stars are silly!'
'How many?'
'Three!'
Yennefer did not say anything for a long time. She stared at a detail on the carved wardrobe door known only to her. The mischievous smile on Ciri's lips started slowly to disappear until finally it disappeared altogether, without a trace.
'No doubt you were curious to learn,' said the magician very slowly, not ceasing to admire the wardrobe, 'what would happen if you gave me a senseless and stupid reply. You thought perhaps that I might not notice because I am not in the least interested in your answers? You thought wrongly. You believed, perhaps, that I would simply accept that you are stupid? You were wrong. But if you are bored of being tested and wanted, for a change, to test me… Well, that has clearly worked, hasn't it? Either way, this test is concluded. Return the paper.'
'I'm sorry, Lady Yennefer.' The girl lowered her head. 'There should, of course, be… one star there. I'm very sorry. Please don't be angry with me.'
'Look at me, Ciri.'
The girl raised her eyes, astonished. Because for the first time the magician had called her by her name.
'Ciri,' said Yennefer. 'Know that, despite appearances, I get angry just as rarely as I laugh. You haven't made me angry. But in apologising you have proved I wasn't wrong about you. And now take the next sheet of paper. As you can see there are five houses on it. Draw the sixth…'
'Again? I really can't understand why-'
'… the sixth house.' The lady magician's voice changed dangerously and her eyes flashed with a violet glow. 'Here, in this space. Don't make me repeat myself, please.'
After apples, pine trees, stars, fishes and houses, came the turn of labyrinths through which she had to quickly find a path, wavy
lines, blots which looked like squashed cockroaches, and mosaics which made her go cross-eyed and set her head spinning. Then there was a shining ball on a piece of string at which she had to stare for a long time. Staring at it was as dull as dish-water and Ciri kept falling asleep. Yennefer, surprisingly, did not care even though a few days earlier she had scolded her grimly for napping over one of the cockroach blots.
Pouring over the tests had made her neck and back ache and day by day they grew more painful. She missed movement and fresh air and, obliged to be sincere, she immediately told Yennefer. The magician took it easily, as if she had been expecting this for a long time.
For the next two days they both ran through the park, jumped over ditches and fences under the amused or pitying eyes of the priestesses and novices. They exercised and practised their balance walking along the top of the wall which encircled the orchard and farm buildings. Unlike the training in Kaer Morhen, though, the exercises with Yennefer were always accompanied by theory. The magician taught Ciri how to breathe, guiding the movement of her chest and diaphragm with strong pressure frorn her hand. She explained the rules of movement, how muscles and bones work, and demonstrated how to rest, release tension and relax.
During one such session of relaxation, stretched out on the grass and gazing at the sky, Ciri asked a question which was bothering her. 'Lady Yennefer? When are we finally going to finish the tests?'
'Do they bore you so much?'
'No… But I'd like to know whether I'm cut out to be a magician.'
'You are.'
'You know that already?'
'I knew from the start. Few people can detect the activity of my star. Very few. You noticed it straight away.'
'And the tests?'
'Concluded. I already know what I wanted to about you.'
'But some of the tasks… They didn't work out very well. You
said yourself that… Are you really sure? You're not mistaken? You're sure I have the ability?'
'I'm sure.'
'But-'
'Ciri.' The enchantress looked both amused and impatient. 'From the moment we lay down in the meadow, I have been talking to you without using my voice. It's called telepathy, remember that. And as you no doubt noticed, it has not made our talking together any more difficult.'
'Magic' – Yennefer, her eyes fixed on the sky above the hills, rested her hands on the pommel of her saddle – 'is, in some people's opinion, the embodiment of Chaos. It is a key capable of opening the forbidden door. The door behind which lurk nightmares, fear and unimaginable horrors, behind which enemies hide and wait, destructive powers, the forces of pure Evil capable of annihilating not only the one who opens the door but with them the entire world. And since there is no lack of those who try to open the door, someone, at some point, is going to make a mistake and then the destruction of the world will be forejudged and inevitable. Magic is, therefore, the revenge and the weapon of Chaos. The fact that, following the Conjunction of the Spheres, people have learned to use magic, is the curse and undoing of the world. The undoing of mankind. And that's how it is, Ciri. Those who believe that magic is Chaos are not mistaken.'
Spurred on by its mistress's heels, the magician's black stallion neighed lengthily and slowly made his way into the heather. Ciri hastened her horse, followed in Yennefer's tracks and caught up with her. The heather reached to their stirrups.
'Magic,' Yennefer continued after a while, 'is, in some people's opinion, art. Great, elitist art, capable of creating beautiful and extraordinary things. Magic is a talent granted to only a chosen few. Others, deprived of talent, can only look at the results of the artists' works with admiration and envy, can admire the finished work while feeling that without these creations and without this talent the world would be a poorer place. The fact that, following
the Conjunction of the Spheres, some chosen few discovered talent and magic within themselves, the fact that they found Art within themselves, is the blessing of beauty. And that's how it is. Those who believe that magic is art are also right.'
On the long bare hill which protruded from the heath like the back of some lurking predator lay an enormous boulder supported by a few smaller stones. The magician guided her horse in its direction without pausing her lecture.
'There are also those according to whom magic is a science. In order to master it, talent and innate ability alone are not enough. Years of keen study and arduous work are essential; endurance and self-discipline are necessary. Magic acquired like this is knowledge, learning, the limits of which are constantly stretched by enlightened and vigorous minds, by experience, experiments and practice. Magic acquired in such a way is progress. It is the plough, the loom, the watermill, the smelting furnace, the winch and the pulley. It is progress, evolution, change. It is constant movement. Upwards. Towards improvement. Towards the stars. The fact that following the Conjunction of the Spheres we discovered magic will, one day, allow us to reach the stars. Dismount, Ciri.'
Yennefer approached the monolith, placed her palm on the coarse surface of the stone and carefully brushed away the dust and dry leaves.
'Those who consider magic to be a science,' she continued, 'are also right. Remember that, Ciri. And now come here, to me.'
The girl swallowed and came closer. The enchantress put her arm around her.
'Remember,' she repeated, 'magic is Chaos, Art and Science. It is a curse, a blessing and progress. It all depends on who uses magic, how they use it, and to what purpose. And magic is everywhere. All around us. Easily accessible. It is enough to stretch out one's hand. See? I'm stretching out my hand.'
