To Challenge a Maestro Page 8

  Burten nodded his agreement and continued getting ready, as did all of the other Talenteds in the room. Private conversation developed, mostly concerning classes and Instructors. Daniel noticed Simon watching him. The sandy-haired Talented seemed to be the quiet sort, unassuming, keeping a low profile, but he probably did not miss much. His blue eyes held questions, yet he did not presume to ask any. Daniel liked him in a cautious way.

  Jason Renn entered the room and the Aakacarns, all in various stages of dress, hurried to stand stiffly by their beds. Daniel followed their example. They bowed low as the Instructor made his way to bed number two. “Daniel Benhannon, here is your schedule. You will follow it to the letter,” he said, without commenting about the fact that his newest Talented had not bowed very deeply.

  Jerremy and Samuel glared at each other. The Teki frowned at the Serinian, who was now ignoring him, or pretending to. The competition between the second and third ranked Talenteds was fierce and Jason seemed oblivious to it.

  Daniel took the schedule and gave it a quick read, memorizing it on the spot. He had but one question. “Instructor, where are the classes held?”

  “Jerremy will accompany you where his schedule coincides with yours. Samuel will accompany you where his coincides,” Jason replied, having anticipated question, problem, and come up with the solution.

  The Teki and the Serinian both nodded their agreement as if it had been sought after and they actually had a choice. The Instructor did not even glance at them, taking their obedience for granted. The other Talenteds moved not a muscle until Jason exited the room, and then let out a collective sigh, probably of relief. In the moment of silence that ensued came a growl. Daniel looked at his stomach and his face grew hot. Someone snickered but most of the Talenteds were more concerned about putting on the rest of their clothes.

  “I’m hungry too,” Samuel said, and then motioned for Daniel to follow him out the door. The motion did not include Jerremy but he came anyway.

  Daniel walked down to the cafeteria. The Serinian was quiet, no doubt feigning disinterest. Simon followed a few paces behind as if he wanted to be a part of the group but was too polite to intrude. The dining room was filled with Aakacarns going at their food like half starved yetis. Daniel stood in line for a plate of pancakes and bacon. He received his share and enjoyed the aroma while carrying his breakfast to the nearest empty table. He caught sight of Simon and motioned for him to come and sit. The sandy-haired Aakacarn smiled and took the seat right beside him. Jerremy and Samuel came over and sat down across from each other.

  Tim was busy mopping up some apple juice under a table occupied by several pre-pubescent Aakacarns. The drummer never complained, just went about his work without comment. He acknowledged Daniel with a nod of his head and went back to cleaning up messes.

  Sherree started by with her plate full of food and stopped as if to give greeting. “You look terrible,” she said in a tone indicating concern rather than insult.

  Daniel laughed. He was about to reply, you don’t look so great in the morning either, but could not lie; she was stunning. “We can’t all be beautiful, some of us are born homely,” he said with a smile.

  Sherree’s pupils seemed to dilate and she took on that hawk to mouse look. “You’re not too big of an eye sore.”

  Samuel laughed so hard a piece of bacon fell off his fork before he could get it to his mouth. Simon remained quiet and Jerremy smiled in spite of an obvious effort on his part to remain above it all.

  Sherree placed her plate on the table, an amber glow surrounded her, and she put her hand on Daniel’s forehead, transferring potential energy, and giving him strength to face the day. “Thanks, I’m much better now,” he said while feeling bad for not trusting her. He wanted to believe she was his friend, but did not dare delude himself again.

  “You’re welcome,” Sherree replied and then went and sat down at the other table with her friends.

  “What is your secret?” Samuel asked in a low voice. “She hardly ever takes an interest in other Talenteds, especially male Talenteds. Oh, she is friendly enough, but not usually this much.”

  Daniel glanced over at the Lobenian. Compassionate is the one word he thought would best describe her, unless you happen to be a yeti; the abominable creatures probably had their own word for her; him as well.

  “Your memory is short, Teki,” Jerremy said, paused, and then continued to refresh the lapse. “Sherree healed every crawling thing from here to Bashierwood and back again.”

  Samuel’s eyes widened with comprehension. “Of course, she’s destined for the Aloe Guild, it is only natural she would take an interest in someone who is suffering.”

  Daniel listened to the conversation that followed, which degenerated as it always did whenever those two were together for any length of time. It seemed they often were together even when they clearly did not have to be. Sure, they picked on one another, but when the crunch came they had each other’s back. The relationship between number two and number three of the class was complicated.

  Breakfast ended and it was time to follow Jerremy to the first scheduled class of the day. Tames Hall was a rectangular building, twelve stories high, a hundred strides wide, and seemed to be made of thousands of pearls. The name was written, above the double doors, in fancy gold letters twice as high as Daniel was tall. The Serinian led the way down the corridor, turned down five more, and entered the first classroom on the left.

  Jason Renn sat reading papers behind a pine desk and did not look up as they entered. His red on black cloak was hanging on a peg protruding from the wall beside a large chrono disk. The room had five rows of desks ten deep. The Serinian sat down at the first desk in the front row and motioned for Daniel to take the second, which he did. Talenteds, ranging from their late teens to early twenties, filed in one by one until all but ten seats were taken. Twenty-one of the forty people in the class were female. A tall Serinian woman sat in the back beside a short Taracopian man. The group as a whole was a good cross section of all the kingdoms; finally even Ducaun.

  Jason stood and walked from behind his desk and announced in a strong voice, “Today we are going to discuss the Da Capo and its uses.”

  Daniel’s interest was peaked at once. He never heard of a Da Capo and was eager to learn; taking the classes could prove beneficial after all.

  Jason went to a board mounted on the wall and wrote, Da Capo, in large letters. “The Da Capo is added to a spell at the end. This causes the spell to repeat until the caster cuts off the potential.”

  “Instructor, why use a Da Capo when you can simply play the spell over again in your mind to keep the potential flowing?” asked an ebony-skinned young man from the middle of the second row.

  Jason faced the questioner. “Because, Reginald, once the Da Capo is added, the caster does not need to give the spell another thought. He or she is free to perform a different spell or go about whatever business they choose.”

  Daniel had a difficult time accepting that answer, it was like energy from nowhere. “Instructor, how then is the potential for the spell maintained?” he asked, knowing that only by performing the Melody can potential be summoned.

  Jason smiled like a hunter about to spring his trap. “I am glad you asked. The Da Capo must be tied off onto the caster’s life force.”

  The conclusion was obvious. “Then the spell lasts until the caster dies,” Daniel replied while thinking the matter through. Gerard DeCamp must have added a Da Capo onto the Forget spell placed on Terroll Barnes, yet the caster is not dead. “Can a Da Capo be broken by a more powerful spell?”

  “Excellent question,” Jason said while absently rubbing his hands. “Yes, because the Da Capo can only maintain the spell at the level originally summoned by the caster.”

  This lesson alone was worth coming to Aakadon for, Daniel decided; he could hardly wait to implement it, and could think of many times when the knowledge would have come in handy. “The Da Capo can be useful but for only certai
n types of spells,” he commented.

  “I’d use it for every spell,” Reginald volunteered proudly.

  Daniel glanced at the Ecoppian born Talented. “Some spells require constant attention. The Da Capo would be almost pointless on a Find spell. On the other hand, the spell holding Tarin Conn in Kelgotha would definitely require a Da Capo,” he explained, and then paused at a sudden thought. “Instructor, Della Lain cast the spell that is holding the Dark Maestro, she is dead, what is sustaining the potential for the shield?”

  Jason’s left eyebrow arched up. “My, my, you go from simplicity to High Powered spell casting. The Find spell is a single line Melody while the spell holding the Dark Maestro is Symphonic. Either way, the theory is the same. What do you know about crescendos?”

  Daniel recalled everything Terroll had taught him on the subject. “We have two types, both with four amplification levels. The baton is used to amplify the spell and is especially useful when the caster does not want to reveal what he or she is summoning the potential for. The instrument strengthens the spell a bit more, a type one level one crescendo does not give quite as much amplification as a type two level one would, and there are variables depending on the ranking of the caster, but the instrument reveals the Melody being used.”

  “Correct,” Jason replied. “That was a near text book explanation, but there is more. An Accomplished leaves a residue of potential every time a spell is cast through a crescendo and the affect is accumulative. Also, each of the four levels you mentioned equals an extra bolt of potential. For example; a one-bolt Accomplished can cast the equivalent of a five-bolt if he or she has a level four crescendo. As to your question, the shield holds because the flute of Della Lain still has the residue of her potential. The spell holding Tarin Conn remains in existence while the flute is intact.”

  “What a relief,” Daniel said. Facing the Dark Maestro in a dream was bad enough; he did not want to even think of what a personal visit would be like.

  “What is the difference between a Melody spell and a Symphonic spell?” asked the hazel eyed female Talented occupying the third desk, front row, beside Daniel. Her complexion was light and her hair the color of flame.

  Jason eyed the Talented briefly and then said, “Good question, Joanna. All the spells you have learned thus far, in deed many of the specialized ones you will learn after choosing your guild affiliation, are single line melodies. And yes, single line melodies, given enough potential, can be considered High Power spells. But the true High Powered spells are Symphonic and are played in concert. The Symphonic spells not only have a melody, they have multiple notes in harmony as well.”

  Jerremy leaned forward. “By your definition, the spell you gave Sherree, Samuel, and I, was Symphonic. It had a Melody, Sherree performed, and two harmony lines performed one by Samuel and the other by me.”

  Jason rubbed his chin, no doubt thinking of the reason that spell had been taught to the three Talenteds. “Yes, that was a specialized High Powered spell of the Zephyr Guild. It is one of the easiest Symphonics in our repertoire. Each of you during the Battle of Bashierwood could have individually played the single line melody given to Sherree, but that would have been three Talenteds performing three low powered spells instead of three Aakacarns in concert performing a High Powered spell.”

  All of the Talenteds in the class were staring at Jerremy with awe in their eyes. He participated in performing a Symphonic spell, something none of them could claim, and this was probably the first time they were hearing about his involvement in the battle. He seemed to be enjoying the attention. Daniel was just glad he was not the focus. It gave him time to think about single line Melodies and Symphonics.

  All of the spells Terroll Barnes had taught him were single line Melodies, the Sleep spell taught by Cenni Quen had been a single line Melody, and both the Condemned and Teleportation spells taught by Tarin Conn were single line Melodies. The Memory spell that had come to Daniel had a melody and a six note harmony, as did all of the spells that had mysteriously come into his head. Even the original single line melodies taught to him by Terroll; those Daniel modified to suite his need at the time, they were changed by adding a harmony line.

  Jason went on to discuss many of the things that Terroll had gone over. The Da Capo and Symphonic theory were by far the most interesting part of the lesson. The rest required polite attention. After all, some people were hearing the information for the first time and it was only fair that they learn what they could. The class ended and Daniel was taken by Jason into the office and told to perform all of the one hundred forty spells on the guitarn, evidently the Instructor needed more than the two simple test performed in the dormitory. Daniel was then handed off to Samuel, who led him to the class on practical spell casting.

  A one-bolt Accomplished of the Sun Guild with brown hair and amber eyes stood near the front of the room. The ceiling was a good twenty cubits high and the walls and floors were covered with a thick crimson padding, the color of blood; practical spell casting must be dangerous. Musical instruments were lying in open cases throughout the exercise area and the guitarn made by Ronn Benhannon was among them, no doubt brought in by Tim, who was standing against the wall and staring at the floor. Each of the Talenteds grabbed their crescendos and sat down on the floor in preparation for the class.

  Daniel picked up the guitarn and ran his finger across the strings to hear if it needed tuning; it did not. He fought back an urge to start an impromptu concert, better to wait on the Instructor. He spotted Sherree six strides to his right with the silver flute in her hands and decided her presence alone made the class worth coming to. He sat down and waited while seven other Talenteds entered, took their instruments, and positioned themselves on the floor. By the time everyone was settled over a hundred Talenteds were seated.

  Harmon Gramm wore the sour expression of a man who had just finished swallowing a jug of curdled milk. “Class!” the Instructor shouted, gaining immediate attention along with absolute silence. “Good. Now we can get on with the morning instruction. We have a new Talented in our class and his name is Daniel Benhannon. Everybody, stand up.”

  The man stared at Daniel with the unforgiving eyes of a coyote watching a chick fall from the nest. This fellow expected obedience, and possibly more. “I have been told you know every spell required to graduate, is this true?”

  “Yes, Instructor,” Daniel replied.

  Harmon’s right eyebrow twitched. “I must see this for myself. Class, sit down. Not you, mountain boy, you are going to perform spells one hundred through one forty.”

  Daniel eyed the Talenteds watching him. If the test was supposed to intimidate him, it failed. “Your will be done, Instructor,” he replied and then proceeded to play the first Melody on his guitarn. The blue glow surrounded him while he performed each spell flawlessly, going right from one into another without stopping until completing the task.

  “He was taught by Maestro Terroll Barnes,” a soft male voice came from among the Talenteds, a familiar voice.

  Harmon Gramm began to glow bright pink with potential; beams shot from his fingertips, and struck the person who dared to speak when not called upon. Simon jerked spasmodically and gasped in pain so intense the words for mercy could not escape his throat. Daniel wanted to strike out at the Accomplished. The beginning of a spell stirred in his mind and was interrupted by a warm hand on his shoulder. Sherree stood beside him with one finger to her lips and shaking her head, and then sat down so as not to draw the Instructor’s attention.

  “Simon Trenca, have you any more to say?” Harmon Gramm inquired as if he were asking if the Talented wanted to have more sugar in his tea.

  “No, Instructor, please excuse my outburst,” Simon pleaded in a tight voice.

  The Instructor had a cruel streak a span wide. The only difference between him and Cenni Quen was the color of his silks. Why would the Maestros tolerate such a person? Why would Jason?

  Harmon Gramm held the potential for a few mo
ments more and then said, “You are forgiven,” and released the Talented.

  Simon fell to the floor with a muffled thud, his chest rising and falling rapidly while he struggled to catch his breath.

  The Instructor returned to his previous subject as though the interruption had never occurred. “Daniel Benhannon, it would seem the information given to me about you is correct,” he said, then stepped up close, face to face, though he had to look up, and added, “You have been taught well. Now mind your manners and we will get along fine.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Daniel replied.

  The pink glow formed again and pain shot into Daniel, spreading from the point of contact to every nerve of his body. He clamped his mouth shut, and stood ridged, refusing to give the Instructor any satisfaction. Tarin Conn had done much worse, so had Cenni Quen, this man was merely an annoyance compared to them.

  “You were not given permission to speak,” Harmon Gramm informed him, and then broke the spell. He seemed a little disappointed his punishment provoked so little reaction. “Discipline must be maintained at all times. An undisciplined Aakacarn is a dangerous Aakacarn, to himself and those around him. Better to experience a little pain now than suffer the fate of the undisciplined,” he went on to say. The man was a psychopath.

  Daniel closed his eyes while the pain subsided and thought of how badly he wanted his cursed link to Tarin Conn severed. Help was here in Aakadon. This was not the time to be self-willed; he could take a little pain.

  “That was your first lesson in humility. Let us hope there will be no need of number two. Conformity is the key, you must learn to conform,” Harmon said, and then frowned while looking at the rest of the class. “Do not make me take up any more time correcting attitudes.”

  Daniel fought off an urge to correct the Instructor’s attitude. This fellow was the sort who would poke at a hibernating bear. He decided to swallow his pride and took a seat between Samuel and Sherree. Neither of them looked at him or said a word. Harmon Gramm went around the room assigning spells to be learned by each individual. Sherree was assigned spell number one thirty-eight, Samuel was assigned number one thirty, and Daniel was given a book.