Free Seeds of Rebellion by Brandon Mull Page A

prophecy,” the woman pressed. “When the People of the Seed grow familiar with Edomic, their downfall will have commenced.”
    Drake flashed his crooked grin. “I’m no longer among my people. I prefer to conclude that I don’t count. Besides, anyone can see that our downfall has begun. We might as well go down fighting.”
    “Perhaps,” the charm woman mused, stroking her chin, theliver-spotted hand incongruent against the more youthful skin of her face. “Prophecies aside, the wizardborn normally show little aptitude for Edomic.”
    “I’m no spellweaver,” Drake huffed. “It doesn’t come easily. I know a few practical tricks.”
    “How long did it take her to learn?”
    “She saw me call heat to light a campfire one evening. She asked how I did it, and I told her. She lit a candle that same night.”
    “The same night?” The charm woman gasped. “How long did it take you to light your first candle, Drake?”
    “Years of practice. She clearly has an unusual aptitude.”
    The woman fixed Rachel with a suspicious stare. “Where did you study Edomic before?”
    “Nowhere,” Rachel replied. “Never. I know the syllables to the word that can kill Maldor. Otherwise, the first Edomic words I heard came from Drake.”
    “This was how long ago?”
    “A couple of weeks.”
    “You can light a candle whenever you choose?”
    “Pretty much.”
    “Show me.” The charm woman arose, collected a long reddish candle, handed it to Rachel, and returned to her stool.
    “Now?”
    “At your pleasure.”
    Rachel felt a mild surge of stage fright. She hadn’t done this trick under such scrutiny. The woman had made it sound like lighting a candle with Edomic should have been difficult to learn. The skeptical attitude magnified Rachel’s nervousness. She took a breath. She had done this hundreds of times. She spoke the words, focused on the wick, and a flame flickered into being.
    “Remarkable,” the charm woman said. “Blow it out.” Shegestured at Drake. “Take the candle to the other side of the room.”
    Rachel handed him the candle, and he carried it to the opposite side of the tent.
    “Light it,” the charm woman ordered.
    “I’ve never tried this from so far away,” Rachel explained.
    “Same idea,” the woman said. “Will heat to the wick.”
    Rachel said the words, concentrating on the wick. She could feel an inexplicable resistance, like the first time she had tried to use Edomic to light a candle. Her attention began to waver, as if some distractive force were willing her eyes away from her target, but she redoubled her effort, pushing mentally, and whispered the words again. Across the room, a new flame was born.
    “That was harder,” Rachel said, wiping perspiration from her forehead.
    The charm woman considered Rachel curiously. “Yet you made it look relatively effortless.” The woman looked at Drake. “What are the chances of Rachel remaining with me as an apprentice?”
    “You would have to ask her,” he replied with a slight frown.
    “Well?” the woman asked.
    Rachel felt flustered and flattered. Did this mean she showed serious promise with Edomic? It would be amazing to learn more, but the timing seemed off. “I don’t think I can. We need to figure out how to rescue Jason, and I need to get in front of Maldor, so I can use the Word. Plus, I need to find a way home.”
    “I can offer you as safe a sanctuary as you are likely to find in Lyrian,” the woman replied. “Study with me for a year, and you will become much more formidable. You learned to call fire with abnormal ease. For most, those words you uttered would convey meaning only. Heat would hear but not respond. If you can continue as you commenced, you could exceed the abilities of any practitioner remaining in Lyrian.”
    Rachel looked to Drake.
    “This is a high compliment,” the seedman admitted. “The charm woman would not make this invitation lightly. Nor offer such encouragement.”
    Rachel pressed her