Robin McKinley - Fire - Tales of Elemental Spirits

Apprentice. I’d been Ralas’ real honest-to-wizardry apprentice for three years. The rest of what she’d said still pretty much went past me. Gift? Me? Keeping her in Birchhome? But if I was going to have a gift, it would be for the wrong thing. Except that I wanted to be a healer. Badly wanted it. And she was right about this much: I was stubborn.

I could feel a huge stupid smile breaking over my face. I turned to look at Dag and a great grin spread over his face too, and suddenly he looked about twenty years younger. I hadn’t realised how old he’d been looking, from the day he’d showed up at our parents’ house and told us about Hereyta and his First Flight—the smile looked like what had happened on that First Flight was finally sinking in. And maybe a little bit that he could stop worrying about me. He was our mum’s son too, after all.

ʺI don’t have any idea how Ern did what he did for your dragon,ʺ Ralas went on. ʺAnd I doubt that Ern does either. I don’t think it’s only his well-known aversion to being the centre of attention that’s making him uncooperative today. But I will tell you also that when he turned up at my house with Sippy as a broken-legged pup and I’d seen what he’d done I realised that my suspicion that he was a healer was truer than I’d guessed . . . and I was also very interested in why he’d been given a foogit as his familiar. Foogits used to be quite popular as familiars hundreds of years ago, but I know of no wizard who uses one now. And a wizard who specialises in healing and furthermore uses a foogit . . . Ern will need all the grounding he can achieve, and all the stubbornness he is capable of.

ʺMost of us do without familiars altogether, which I think is rather a pity. And I thought of the tale of Erzaglia and Sorabulyar the moment I heard about Hereyta. I had no sign to send Ern and Sippy back with Dag to the Academy but it seemed the obvious thing to do. It seemed too obvious to need or ask for a sign.ʺ

I muttered to myself, or to Sippy, as you might mutter an old familiar charm when recent events were too wild and strange for you, ʺI didn’t do much of a job for you, really. I messed up your leg.ʺ

Ralas said out loud, so everyone could hear, ʺYou did not mess up Sippy’s leg. Sippy’s leg wasn’t just broken, it was shattered. He should have been dead of fever before you got him back to me. He should at least have lost the leg. He’s not even lame on it any more. It’s a little scarred . . . but I’m a little scarred, and I don’t feel the healers who saved my life messed me up. And you were eleven. It was after that I went and asked your parents to apprentice you to me—and of course I had to explain why I was so interested, although I tried not to emphasize healing too much. I won’t have you long—I’m still only an all-sorts wizard—ʺ

A muffled grunt from the old guy who’d commented on Birchhome. ʺ‘All-sorts’ in your case covers a bit more than usual.ʺ

ʺAs you like,ʺ said Ralas, unperturbed. ʺWhatever my skills are, they will serve to get Ern started. Which they have done.ʺ

The original old guy said carefully, ʺWe—the Academy—are quite interested in Ern’s future ourselves.ʺ

ʺLet me have him three more years,ʺ said Ralas, as if what the old guy had said was only what she was expecting him to say. ʺTill he’s eighteen. I can cram quite a lot in in the next three years,ʺ and she smiled a conspiratorial smile at me before turning back to the old guys. ʺWe might—I would hope to—begin to find out why or how Ern’s gift could shape itself to Hereyta’s need. It was not an ordinary sort of healing—which makes me wonder—hope—if perhaps it might be the beginning of a new discipline of healing—one which might even make that crucial branch of wizardry respectable at last.

ʺWhen your messenger came of course his parents heard something of what had happened during First Flight, but it was clear to all of us that as his master I should come to the Academy and contribute what I could to the discussion. I can, if you wish it, begin to prepare them for the future. But they will hardly turn down a place at the Academy for him once he turns eighteen.ʺ

They’ll think there was some huge mistake, I thought. A new discipline of healing! And a healer with a foogit! I’d better stay short and goofy-looking. That’ll be the easy bit.

The old guy who’d mentioned Birchhome said, ʺI’m sure you have recognised me, Ralas, as I have recognised you.ʺ

Ralas nodded, and her smile, at its wryest, appeared and disappeared. ʺYes. Even among those who stood at variance with me, you were—er—conspicuous, Cladharg.ʺ

Cladharg turned to me then. I managed to meet his eyes for about three seconds and then I looked at the table. ʺRalas was apprentice to my master for a year. She’s only an all-sorts wizard, as she describes herself, because that was her choice. My master begged her to stay and let him train her to be a Seer.ʺ

ʺThe ordinary world needs good wizards too,ʺ she said. ʺNot only the kings and queens, the councils . . . and Seers for the academies.ʺ

There was a little silence that bristled with unspoken words. Then Cladharg said, ʺWe will not agree now any more than we did thirty years ago.ʺ

ʺNo,ʺ Ralas said pleasantly.

ʺBut you are willing to see your own apprentice come here?ʺ

ʺThat is up to Ern. But I think what has already happened indicates that he has work to do here.ʺ

ʺAnd you also think he might shake us up,ʺ said Cladharg.

ʺI am looking forward to it,ʺ she said demurely, and he laughed, a proper loud crack of laughter, and something in the room cracked too, and after that we were all more comfortable with each other.

I started to open my mouth and then closed it again, but the first old guy said, ʺErn. It is time you said something. This is your life we are prescribing for you. What did you want to ask?ʺ

ʺNot about my life,ʺ I said. ʺI—ʺ I stopped. Not yet, I thought. I can’t think about that yet. ʺBut I’d like to know who you are.ʺ I glanced quickly around the table and then back at the first old guy. ʺI don’t even know your name. I mean, I should know, that morning in the food halls, but . . .ʺ

The first old guy said gravely, ʺBut you have had many things on your mind and you have been introduced to nearly an entire Academy of new people. It is very discourteous of us not to have identified ourselves in the beginning—that I have not ere now is the worst of all. I’m afraid we have been too interested in what you could do for us—what you have done for us already.ʺ

One of the other old guys who hadn’t said anything yet said, ʺWe believe we are looking at our future, and that we are already the past.ʺ He didn’t sound unhappy about it though.

ʺIt was the story of Erzaglia and Sorabulyar that told me to send Ern and Sippy to you,ʺ said Ralas. ʺThe past remains vital.ʺ

ʺThe past holds the present and hands it to the future,ʺ said the first old guy. ʺI am Storkhal, First Commander of the Academy—ʺ

I blinked.

ʺThisʺ—the old guy who had just spoken for the first time—ʺis Sfector, First Dragonrider. This is Mjorak, First Professor of Practise; Nonoran, First Professor of Theory; and Cladharg, who is First Seer.ʺ

I started missing the names; everything had been way too much for way too long. Even Sippy seemed content to sit quietly with his head in my lap as if he was feeling it too. First Commander of the Academy! But I was listening again in time to hear Storkhal say, ʺAnd Carn, Five-Crown Sukaj Colonel of the Inban Regiment—ʺ

Carn interrupted in his harsh voice: ʺStorkhal, stop it. I’m a minor tutor here, that’s all. But I’m guessing Ern has heard my name, and can himself then guess why it is I begged a place here today—and why I was granted one.ʺ