Free The Magician's Apprentice by Trudi Canavan Page A

new fellow apprentice.”
    Jayan made a short, polite bow. “Welcome, Apprentice Tessia,” he said. “Healer Veran, Lasia. A pleasure to have your company tonight.”
    Dakon smiled approvingly then directed the guests to their seats. Lasia and Tessia started in surprise as a gong positioned on a side table rang.
    Soon the room filled with servants carrying plates and bowls, jugs and glasses. A generous spread of food covered the table. Dakon picked up a pair of carving knives and began to slice the meat for his guests.
    The kitchen servants had done a fine job, Jayan noted. As Dakon sliced through a glistening roll of roasted, golden skin he revealed many-layered circles of different meats and vegetables. Once he had finished he urged his guests to help themselves, then turned to a larger haunch of enka. Ribbons of dark marin fruit syrup oozed from within the rare meat. Next, he expertly chopped up cakes made of different root vegetables, layered to form decorative patterns when cut, and quartered juicy yellow and green cabbas stuffed with a frothy herbed mix of bread and eggs.
    This is such a strange tradition
, Jayan mused.
I wonder if it was introduced by the Sachakans, or harks back to an earlier age in Kyralia
.
It’s supposed to be a demonstration of humility from the host, but I suspect it’s really meant to show off his prowess with knives.
    Dakon certainly gave the impression of being well practised, which was surprising considering how rarely he gave formal dinners. Watching his master closely, Jayan decided the man actually enjoyed the task. He wondered if this love of chopping things up would surface should Dakon ever find himself in a fight.
    At last Dakon had finished. Conversation as they ate was sporadic and concerned the quality of local and imported produce, the weather and other general topics. Jayan glanced at Tessia now and then. She was not pretty, he decided, but neither was she ugly. Young women in the ley were likely to be either slim and hard-muscled from work, or buxom and generous like some of the Residence’s house servants or crafters’ wives. Tessia was neither skinny or curvaceous, as far as he could tell.
    She did not speak, just listened and watched Lord Dakon with obvious restrained curiosity. The magician might have noticed this, as he began to ask her direct questions.
    “If there is anything any of you wish to know,” he said as the meal ended, “be it about magic or magicians or apprenticeship, please ask. I will do my best to answer.”
    The healer and his family exchanged glances. Veran opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and looked at Tessia.
    “I think my daughter’s questions should come first, since she is the one who is to learn magic.”
    Tessia smiled faintly at her father, then frowned as she gathered her thoughts.
    “Where does the body generate magic?” she asked. “Is it stored in the brain or the heart?”
    Dakon chuckled. “Ah, that is a question asked often and never properly answered. I believe the source is the brain, but there are some who are convinced it comes from the heart. Since the brain generates thoughts, and the heart emotions, it makes more sense that magic comes from the brain. Magic responds to our mental command and control. We have little control of what we feel – though we can control how we act in response to our feelings. If magic responded to emotion we’d have no control of it at all.”
    Tessia leaned forward. “So… how does the body generate magic?”
    “An even greater mystery,” Dakon told her. “Some believe that it is the result of friction caused by all the rhythms in the body: blood pulsing through pulse paths, breath through the lungs.”
    Tessia frowned. “Does that mean people with magical ability have a faster pulse and breathing rate?”
    “No,” Veran answered for Dakon. “But since some substances create friction more easily than others, perhaps a magician’s blood is different somehow and more able