Street Magic - Page 34/69

They settled in the front room for the lesson. Briar made sure Evvy was seated and comfortable before he drew a protective circle around them with a specially prepared oil. Circles came easily to him. The strength he had placed in his oil surged up and in to enclose them in a bubble of power. No matter what happened inside, no magic would escape his barrier.

Evvy’s nose twitched. “What’s that?” she demanded.

“It’s one of my best mixes!” Briar protested of the hint that his pride and joy smelled bad. “Rosemary, cypress, and rose geranium. It holds even with five mages striving against it at once! I got a prize for it in a competition!”

Evvy propped her chin on her hand. “It smells like something died,” she remarked.

Briar opened his mouth to protest, and saw her lips quiver. “Are you giving me a hard time?” he asked.

Evvy shook her head solemnly.

“I thought you were afraid of me. I thought you were afraid of everybody,” he pointed out.

“You’re all right,” she replied carelessly. “You could’ve done all kinds of bad things to me by now, and you haven’t.”

Briar shook his head and sat cross-legged. “Now, with meditation, you breathe special, by counting, like this.” He demonstrated for her the pattern of inhaling for a count of seven, holding for a count of seven, and letting go of all that air over a count of seven. “And while you breathe like that, you empty your mind of all thoughts. Just, empty. It’s hard at first, but you’ll get the knack. You’re clever, for a girl.”

Daja would have cuffed him; Sandry would have tugged his ear or his nose; Tris would have ignored him. Evvy stuck her tongue out. Briar grinned. “Not that I’ve much against girls in the common way. Now, let’s try that breathing.”

Evvy did, twice, then shook her head. “What’s that supposed to mean, clear out my thoughts? I don’t have a broom for between my ears, you know. It’s not like I can sweep them away.”

“You have to learn to do it, though,” Briar explained. “That’s how you get to the place where you can handle your magic. If you don’t learn, your power will cut away from you without you wanting it, and get you in trouble. Or it’ll come spilling out and you won’t be able to stop it, or you won’t be able to find enough to do the job.”

Evvy tried again. She managed to hold and release her breath three times before she cried, “But I’m thinking all kinds of things, like midday and supper and I thought I saw a Viper this morning — I can’t stop thinking things!”

“Just forget about the Vipers,” ordered Briar. “I’ll handle them.” He rubbed his temple. “Look,” he said after a moment’s thought, “do stones think?”

Evvy giggled. “Of course they don’t, silly!”

“Good. Do the breathing, and become a stone,” Briar suggested. “Just close your eyes. Be a stone in your mind.”

“What kind?” she wanted to know. “If I’m the orange stone or the salt-and-pepper stone, the sun will hit my sparkly bits and I’ll notice that. Or —”

“You remember the flagstones in Golden House?” Briar asked swiftly, before she could say any more. “The ones under the main aisle? Black, not shiny at all, heavy?” Evvy nodded. “Try that stone.”

She began to breathe as Briar counted. He didn’t try to enter the center of his own power, feeling it was up to him to keep her on track. As it was, he wasn’t sure how long he’d been counting for her before he realized she was silent. Her power shone softly throughout her body. Her eyes were motionless under their lids; her face was still. Only the tiniest shift in her nostrils and the shallowest rise and fall in her chest said she was alive. Briar rested a hand on hers, and found her skin was cool, almost hard.

“Evvy,” he called, his heart pounding. “Evvy, listen, come out of it. Evvy …”

She stayed unmoving.

Briar wiped a hand over his circle to break it and ran up to his workroom. He needed something powerfully scented. Finding the right plant, he broke off a stem and carried it downstairs. The smell didn’t bother him — most plant smells didn’t — but from the complaints voiced by others he knew not everyone appreciated its strong odor. He held the stem under Evvy’s nose.

Her nostrils twitched. After a moment they flared; her chest heaved; her eyes flew open. “Ugh!” she cried, leaning away from him, a hand cupped over her nose. “Heibei’s luck, what’s that?”

Briar smiled regretfully. “It’s called asafetida,” he told her. “Good for lung ailments and exorcisms.”

“Who’d want to breathe around that?” Evvy demanded. “I take it back about the stuff you used before. This really smells like, like somebody died. Why’d you make me sniff it, anyway?”

Briar gently placed the stem on the floor. “I never said turn into a rock,” he informed her, closing his circle again. “I just said clear your mind like one. If they don’t think of anything, you don’t think of anything! Especially don’t think of being one!”

“I couldn’t've turned myself into a stone,” she scoffed. Then she met Briar’s eyes. “Could I?”

“I don’t know. You looked pretty close to it,” he informed her. “Now. Let’s try again. Clear your mind. Don’t be a rock.”