Steven Brust - Hawk

The one called Farthia said, “How did you come across this?”

“I know a Hawk,” I said. “He told a story about hiding from the Orb. It occurred to me that, if you can use psychic power to hide from the Orb, and if you can use the power of the Orb to enhance psychic ability, then … um.

“Okay, let me put it this way. Some communicate with psychic ability, most use sorcery. But I wondered if very subtle psychic control couldn’t be used to detect the sorcerous channels.”

There was some stirring, and I could see the sorcerers were becoming intrigued.

Farthia said, “But then, you require a lot of natural psychic ability and training.”

“Unless you have aids,” I said, pointing to the devices in front of me. “Only I’m betting you can duplicate the effect using sorcery. In other words, sorcery duplicating the effect of psychics duplicating the effect of sorcery. That’s what you’re here to observe.”

No question, I had their attention; I could see the wheels spinning in their sorcerous little heads.

“Any more questions before I begin?”

When no one said anything, I nodded. “All right. One at a time, please. Who’s going first?”

The Demon shrugged. “I may as well.”

“Remember, tell him to wait for ten seconds or so before he sends the message. I need a little time to get the spell working.” Always assuming it works.

He nodded.

I removed the amulet from around my neck, put it into its adorable little teakwood case, and I could tell what time it was again.

So, yeah, there I sat in a room full my enemies, plus a sorceress of the Left Hand, and I had just removed the thing that had done the most to keep me alive for the last several years. I felt fine, thanks. Why do you ask?

I picked up the wand, brought it to life, and set it down again, and no one had killed me yet. I felt it swirl around in my head; strange, but not unpleasant. My toes and fingers were tingling. I was suddenly very alert and focused.

I picked up the hawk’s egg, crushed it.

Daymar once “observed” me performing a witchcraft spell, realized it was just psychic energy I was playing with, thought he’d “help” by giving me some extra energy, and he about burned out my brain. It was also like that first rush I’d gotten this morning, realizing this was the day, only it was all in my head; I felt powerful, like I could knock things over just by thinking about it. And I could, too. I felt bigger, tougher, like I could kill with bolts of lightning out of my eyes, and, hey, for all I know I could have done that, too.

Also, I got runny stuff on my palm and wondered if the thing would work if I’d hard-boiled the egg first. Probably not.

I had an instant of almost panic realizing that this effect wouldn’t last, and here I’d been sitting around thinking aimless thoughts, and the guy was going to deliver the message, shit, I’d probably already missed it-

No. My time sense came back. It had been maybe a second since I crushed the egg. All was well-in a scary, head full of power, surrounded by enemies, hoping I’d outguessed or outplanned everyone because if not I was dead, kind of way. But I’m sure you’ve been there, too.

I picked up the euphonium, my hand still smeared in egg goo, and, without preamble, blew into it. I started moving my fingers, too, and then I wasn’t controlling my fingers at all, or my breath, and music started happening. It was surprising-for an instant, I almost panicked again, and the whole spell nearly slipped. I hadn’t been able to practice this part, and of course, it’s the thing you can’t practice that screws you up, no matter how much other preparation you’ve done.

But I got through it. I kept playing; or, rather, the instrument kept playing, using my mouth and my gooey fingers, leaving my mind free. And the only way I can think to describe it is that I focused my thoughts as if they were external and sent them out through the instrument. There’s no better way to put it than that, and if you’ve done something like it you know what I mean, and if you haven’t, well, try it. I knew the what of what I wanted to do; the instrument turned it into how and my power-soaked brain supplied the energy. You’re doing it, and watching yourself do it, and then it’s like you let your mind wander, only you direct where you want it to wander to. I guess it isn’t wandering but it feels like it’s flowing out of the instrument, floating, and watchingguidingwaiting and the notes of the music turn purple and the spell is going into each finger and out like it’s all in your hands and-

It’s a lot easier to do than it is to talk about. The magic part, the technique, was being handled for me; all I had to do was focus my thoughts, and, at the same time, keep my mind open and alert for contact. That’s all. Yeah.

I made sure my breathing was slow and even-in through the nose, out through the mouth, not how you play an instrument, but like when practicing witchcraft. After all, witchcraft is nothing more than a means of controlling psychic energy the way sorcery is means of controlling amorphia. But then, sometimes you blend them, and strange things happen. I’ve seen that happen before-if you hang around people like Morrolan, you see that sort of thing.

That was the principle underlying the whole thing, really-sometimes if you’re expecting someone to use one skill or another, and he comes back with a combination …

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

At the time, I stood in front of three Jhereg mucky-mucks and three sorcerers, controlling powerful psychic and sorcerous forces, and tried to keep my mind open and relaxed. And I managed, and, except for being a bit shaky at the beginning, I even made it look easy. Pretty impressive, don’t you think?

Just don’t ask me about that middle part, because I’m still not sure what happened.

I lost sight of what those in the room were doing; the amulet was off, Loiosh was outside, and I wasn’t even paying attention to what was going on around me. Kragar’s words about being over-trusting clapped at the door, and I told them firmly that I wasn’t home. Which was pretty much true.

Loiosh tried to tell me something, then, but I had no concentration to spare for him.

And I felt it-a hint, like a whispering. I willed it to become clearer, like when you can almost hear something and you strain to hear it better and it doesn’t work; only this did. That’s what I like about magic-things like straining to hear better actually work. And somewhere in the distance, the euphonium changed its tune; began to play something soft and soothing. What had it been playing before? I have no idea, I’d had no attention to spare. Didn’t now, either, really-but I’m giving it to you as I recall it, which I’m sure bears at least some relationship to what happened.

Don’t demand too much, all right?

Look, let’s make this short: It worked. As I stood there, I felt the stirring in my brain as of someone reaching me, only, well, it wasn’t someone reaching me. It was just there. Like a voice without a voice, if you will. Somewhere, I became aware that there was an odd silence, and realized I’d stopped playing.

I put the instrument down and looked at the Demon. “The orchard on the west side of your home, my lord, has room for three more trees, if they’re placed carefully.”

His face devoid of emotion, he nodded.

I took a deep breath. I only had so long until the effects of the egg wore off. “Who’s next?” I said.

“Do you need to know?” asked Illitra.

I nodded. “I have to focus on someone; I’m not receiving every piece of psychic communication in the Empire. That would be a bit tiring, I think.”

“When you’re-”