The Journey to Dragon Island by Claire Fayers

Author:Claire Fayers
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co. (BYR)

CHAPTER 19

Weather warning: Mysterious whirlpools and waterspouts are causing chaos off the coast of Morning. Islanders are calling for the removal of their ruler, Baron Kaitos. Since the surprise reappearance of Marfak West on Morning some months ago, which resulted in the near-destruction of Baron Kaitos’s palace, the island has suffered a drop in trade, and difficult sailing conditions can only make things worse.

(Report submitted to Barnard’s Reach by news-scribe)

Peter had never been that interested in books, but even he paused to stare as he entered the library of Orion’s Keep. It was right at the bottom of the castle and, in contrast to all the straight lines of the other rooms and corridors, the room was round with a circular table in the middle and bookshelves following the curve of the walls. A carved dragon’s head snarled at him from near the ceiling—its tail curling from the lowest shelf—giving the impression that the shelving was made up of the dragon’s body, coil on top of coil.

Tom stood beside him, openmouthed. “Where do all these things come from? They look old.”

“They are,” said Hiri. “We used to trade. There’s gold in the sand here, and the magi used to sift it out and melt it down. They had translocation spells that could reach right across the sea to other islands. We don’t have enough magic to do it anymore. Worst luck.”

Except when Kaya had sent Brine halfway around the world, Peter thought. He wondered how Brine was getting on now.

“What’s it like living on a ship?” asked Hiri.

“Smelly,” said Tom. “Nobody washes, and we keep getting attacked by giant spiders and things with tentacles. Almost everything that attacks us is either squishy or slimy.”

Hiri smiled, and Peter took the chance that the young magus might be in a friendly mood. “How do you do magic? Everyone keeps talking about spellstones, and I never heard of them until I came here.”

“Spellstones are the only proper way to use magic,” said Ebeko. “Your way of taking raw magic out of a stone with no preparation is completely wrong. I’m surprised you haven’t killed yourself with it. Don’t you know that wild magic is dangerous?”

All magic was dangerous, Peter thought; that was the whole point of using spellshapes. They forced the magic into a particular pattern so it would cast one spell, and one spell only. And they confined a magician’s ability to the number of spellshapes he could remember.

You don’t need spellshapes, Marfak West once said. They’re only the rules. As long as you were clear about what you wanted, magic would respond to your thoughts and change reality to match them. And that was exactly why Peter did need them—because spellshapes put a limit on what he could do, and he needed those limits. Especially now, when he really felt like turning Ebeko into a candlestick.

“It’s dangerous,” repeated Ebeko stubbornly. “And it’s selfish. Instead of creating spellstones for other people to use, you’re hoarding all the magic for yourself.”

Peter stared around the library uneasily, half expecting to see Marfak West’s ghost materialize.

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