“Is this training going to hurt?”
Pogi shook his head. “Not in any way that you’ve hurt before,” the wizard said. “What do you know about wizards?”
“I know we call you a hedge wizard, but I don’t know what that means. I’ve never seen you behind a hedge before.”
Pogi laughed. “It’s an ancient term. Eons ago, some local wizards were untaught, but they managed to figure out a few strings. Most of them turned into hermits because people were frightened by those who did strange things. The term stuck. I know more strings than your father and have had a little training.”
“Where did you get your training?”
Pogi smiled. “From another hedge wizard. I’ve tried to learn more strings from books, but it’s hard to do when one can’t read much more than their name. I can start fires and extinguish fires if they aren’t too big. I can find water in the ground, which is unusual for a hedge wizard, as it happens. I’ll never do much, so I offer my services to this village and the one south. I have a certificate from the Racellian High Council to practice.”
“What if another hedge wizard shows up?”
Pogi shook his finger at Quin. “That isn’t going to happen since I have a certificate giving me a territory. I must pay a fee every year to keep it up. Healing is my work, and I make more money from that.”
“I can learn as much as you?” Quint asked. “I’ve already graduated from school and can read and do numbers.”
“You are already fifteen? I’m sure you are about to grow in the next year or so. Hubites are slow in their development,” Pogi said.
The hedge wizard was one of the few willots in the village. Hubites were taller, with lighter skin, blond or reddish hair, and blue eyes. Willots seemed to be born with a tan, dark hair, and all the willots had brown or black eyes. Hubites and willots couldn’t breed, or so his teachers had said. Besides being a little taller, Quint hadn’t detected any difference between willots and hubites, especially in the summer when everyone had tanned skin unless they took off their hats.
“How do we start?”
Pogi pursed his lips. “Show me your tendrils again.”
Quint was getting the hang of showing off his magic.
Pogi shook his head. “Too strong. First, we will learn how to control your magic tendrils.”
Pogi showed Quint what the process looked like. “Making strings is not just intertwining tendrils to create a power pulse. The tendrils are woven into threads, and the threads are woven into strings, but not all the strings are made at the same power level. Master wizards can work a hundred strings of various types.”
“They don’t teach us about magic at school. Why not?” Quint asked.
“It is a touchy subject. Willots, who dominate Racellia, feel uncomfortable around magic-wielding hubites. Although there are hubite hedge wizards and some hubite masters, they are confined to cloisters. You don’t have to worry about that.”
Quint thought willots were touchy about everything. Quint would never tell his father that, but he was happy to live in his corner of Racellia, where there were many more hubites than willots.
“Back to work. You practice amplifying your tendrils and tamping them down the rest of the day. Tomorrow, after lunch, show up again and we will investigate changing the intensity, finger to finger.”
Quint thought that impossible, but his father seemed to support the training.
Chapter Tw
o
Zeppo sent Quint into the forest to tag trees for cutting, something that Zeppo had taught Quint when he was twelve. He returned for lunch and sat down with his parents.
“Did you learn much from Pogi?” Zeppo asked.
“I learned to control the intensity of my tendrils as a group. Tomorrow, Pogi will show me how to do the same with each finger.”
Zeppo laughed. “I only have one intensity. I don’t know where you got all your talent.”
“It comes and goes, dear,” Quin’s mother said. “Lately, it has mostly been gone in my family.”
“We talked briefly about willots and hubites,” Quint said.
“Not a good subject to bring up in mixed company,” Zeppo said. “I don’t entirely trust Pogi; I’ve known him for twenty years, and I still maintain that Willots are known for their deviousness.”
“And hubites aren’t devious?” Quin’s mother said.
“You know what I mean,” Zeppo said.
Quint could pick up the rising anger in his father’s voice. “I could have expanded my business to more than three villages and a town, but my warrant hasn’t been expanded no matter how many times I ask. Every damned person on the Racellian High Council is a willot. Don’t tell me they don’t give their own people every advantage.”
“Quiet, dear,” Quint’s mother told Zeppo. “You can get into trouble speaking ill of our betters.”
Zeppo growled. “I know!” He stared at Quint. “Eat!” Zeppo barked.
Quint bent his head down and concentrated on his stew. He knew his father wasn’t mad at him but at his circumstances.
“What happens to me if I exceed Pogi’s abilities?”
“You will, Quinto,” his mother said. “That’s what worries me. Even if you have a lot of promise, I’m afraid you won’t be able to shine as brightly as you should. Always leave a little of your talent in reserve. Show too much, and people will get angry.”
