TKC 109
The light in the clearing vanishes as swiftly as it
appeared. Night sounds return, but Hanna and I are caught in darkness.
Stumbling, we climb the rise to our camp. I have no doubt
daylight will reveal a host of bruises and scratches on my legs, arms and
hands.
Without speaking, we pack up in the dark and take to the
path again. We will not find sleep now; our minds are too busy.
As the sun rides the eastern peaks, Hanna says, “I don’t like
it. There are too many ifs in this thing.”
“Sorcery is the main ingredient,” I murmur. “Belief in self
is all well, but it takes a bit more than that to deploy the frequency needed
to stop an asteroid. A woman made of light? That’s magic. Voices of those who
failed? That’s magic, too. A Spire able to defend? Smacks of great feats.”
Hanna is looking at me. She says not a word.
I gaze ahead. “I now know I have abilities. I have seen and
felt. Does that make me a witch? I do not think so, for those talents are of
the natural world. Am I a sorceress? Does that term even exist? It implies
years of practice, of knowing, and therefore cannot describe me. What am I, Hanna,
and can I do this?”
Hanna too gazes ahead. “Joseph is the reader. He tells of
the Rainmakers, the Healers and the Sages. All are part of who you are,
talent-wise, and they are accepted in an underground manner by the more
knowledgeable of Massin’s highlanders. The Elemental side, though, is where it
gets tricky. There is the ability to employ frequency and to determine truth. A
true Elemental is also a healer, sage and is able to summon rain.”
“I am an Elemental? Hanna, I have not summoned rain.”
“Yet,’ she grins.
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