and lightning come from?”
“Oh, people used those,” said Henry. “They just didn’t use witchcraft.”
The king turned bright red. Thomas swallowed his nerves and stepped forward. “Please, your Majesty, may I speak?”
“Yes,” the king said, his eyes still on Henry and the threat of mayhem in his expression. “Quickly.”
“Witchcraft has a very specific definition under the law,” said Thomas. “It requires the user to offer his or her soul to the Banished in exchange for powers beyond those of mortal men.”
The king’s eyes narrowed with annoyance. “You throw lightning from your hands, if the stories are true,” said the king. “If it isn’t witchcraft, what is it?”
“Magic.”
“And what, exactly, is the difference?”
“For a start,” said Henry, “the Church can’t hang you for magic.”
“The Church would disagree,” said the king. He cast a speculative eye at Thomas. “So if your powers don’t come from the Banished, where do they come from?”
“I was born with it, I think,” said Thomas. “I mean, I was born with the ability to see magic, which I didn’t realize until I saw Bishop Malloy using it. The other things—lightning, fire—I learned how to do those. And the power I took from Bishop Malloy when we stopped him from murdering the children but…”
“Enough,” said the king.
“Yes, your Majesty.”
“Show me.”
Thomas hesitated. “I don’t think lightning would be wise here, your Majesty. It’s loud, and last time I did it indoors I nearly started a fire.”
The king’s eyebrows went up, “Can you do other things?”
“Yes, your majesty.” I just can’t think of any right now…
It wasn’t as though Thomas knew a lot of magic. He’d really not been practicing or searching magic out since he’d come home from Frostmire. He’d been too busy studying and planning for Eileen’s entry into the Academy. I need to do something, though…
Light the candles? He looked around and saw no candelabras.
Thomas’s mind flashed back to the first time he’d shown his friends magic. Then, he’d only been able to fill a cup. Now, though…
Thomas took a deep breath and concentrated, reaching out to the water in the air. Good thing we’re in a seaport and not the desert.
A thought brought the water together. Another lowered the temperature of the room enough that the water became vapour, then…
“By the Four,” said the king, looking at the thick, swirling white fog rising off the throne room floor. “Are you doing this?”
“Yes, your Majesty,” said Thomas, though he kept his concentration on the fog. The cloud grew larger and thicker, until the entire room was full and no one could see more than a foot or two in any direction.
“I think that’s enough, your Majesty” said Sir Walter.
“Yes,” said the king. “I can’t see a thing. I assume everyone is still here?”
“Light up the room,” whispered Henry to Thomas. “With your ball of light.”
Or I could have just used the ball of light in the first place. Thomas fought down the urge to smack himself in the head. He raised his hand and brought a small, swirling ball of blue and yellow light into being. It barely penetrated the fog at all.
“What’s that?” asked Sir Walter. “What are you doing?”
“Light,” said Thomas. He focused on it and it grew brighter and brighter until it pierced through the fog like a beacon. Thomas heard boot steps, and the king appeared out of the fog. Sir Walter was only a step behind him. The king stared at the ball of light, his jaw hanging open. “That is… it’s…”
“Magic,” said Sir Walter.
“Amazing,” said the king. “Can all magicians do this sort of thing?”
“They can learn,” said Thomas. “But I have a lot more power than most.”
“Power you took from Bishop Malloy?” asked the king.
“Yes, your Majesty. He’d taken it from others and I took it from him.”
“When you killed him?”
“No,”
“Oh, people used those,” said Henry. “They just didn’t use witchcraft.”
The king turned bright red. Thomas swallowed his nerves and stepped forward. “Please, your Majesty, may I speak?”
“Yes,” the king said, his eyes still on Henry and the threat of mayhem in his expression. “Quickly.”
“Witchcraft has a very specific definition under the law,” said Thomas. “It requires the user to offer his or her soul to the Banished in exchange for powers beyond those of mortal men.”
The king’s eyes narrowed with annoyance. “You throw lightning from your hands, if the stories are true,” said the king. “If it isn’t witchcraft, what is it?”
“Magic.”
“And what, exactly, is the difference?”
“For a start,” said Henry, “the Church can’t hang you for magic.”
“The Church would disagree,” said the king. He cast a speculative eye at Thomas. “So if your powers don’t come from the Banished, where do they come from?”
“I was born with it, I think,” said Thomas. “I mean, I was born with the ability to see magic, which I didn’t realize until I saw Bishop Malloy using it. The other things—lightning, fire—I learned how to do those. And the power I took from Bishop Malloy when we stopped him from murdering the children but…”
“Enough,” said the king.
“Yes, your Majesty.”
“Show me.”
Thomas hesitated. “I don’t think lightning would be wise here, your Majesty. It’s loud, and last time I did it indoors I nearly started a fire.”
The king’s eyebrows went up, “Can you do other things?”
“Yes, your majesty.” I just can’t think of any right now…
It wasn’t as though Thomas knew a lot of magic. He’d really not been practicing or searching magic out since he’d come home from Frostmire. He’d been too busy studying and planning for Eileen’s entry into the Academy. I need to do something, though…
Light the candles? He looked around and saw no candelabras.
Thomas’s mind flashed back to the first time he’d shown his friends magic. Then, he’d only been able to fill a cup. Now, though…
Thomas took a deep breath and concentrated, reaching out to the water in the air. Good thing we’re in a seaport and not the desert.
A thought brought the water together. Another lowered the temperature of the room enough that the water became vapour, then…
“By the Four,” said the king, looking at the thick, swirling white fog rising off the throne room floor. “Are you doing this?”
“Yes, your Majesty,” said Thomas, though he kept his concentration on the fog. The cloud grew larger and thicker, until the entire room was full and no one could see more than a foot or two in any direction.
“I think that’s enough, your Majesty” said Sir Walter.
“Yes,” said the king. “I can’t see a thing. I assume everyone is still here?”
“Light up the room,” whispered Henry to Thomas. “With your ball of light.”
Or I could have just used the ball of light in the first place. Thomas fought down the urge to smack himself in the head. He raised his hand and brought a small, swirling ball of blue and yellow light into being. It barely penetrated the fog at all.
“What’s that?” asked Sir Walter. “What are you doing?”
“Light,” said Thomas. He focused on it and it grew brighter and brighter until it pierced through the fog like a beacon. Thomas heard boot steps, and the king appeared out of the fog. Sir Walter was only a step behind him. The king stared at the ball of light, his jaw hanging open. “That is… it’s…”
“Magic,” said Sir Walter.
“Amazing,” said the king. “Can all magicians do this sort of thing?”
“They can learn,” said Thomas. “But I have a lot more power than most.”
“Power you took from Bishop Malloy?” asked the king.
“Yes, your Majesty. He’d taken it from others and I took it from him.”
“When you killed him?”
“No,”
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