Free The Spirit Gate by Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff Page B

heard Master Tamukin’s opening speech.” She affected a somber, lugubrious tone and said, in a sing-song voice, “It is not the wo-ord
that is good or e-evil, nor is it the element that lies bee-hi-ind the word,
nor is it the sentence the wo-ords form. It is only in- tent that
may be good or ill, only pur-pos-s-se—and
that is contained nowhere but in the invocation. This is why we are careful to
invoke only Mat and the Lady Itugen and why if you are caught carelessly
uttering invo- ca -tions as if they were imp -recations,
you will be quickly disciplined. A day or two alone in a cell with your own
thoughts should give you ample time to meditate on your err-or.”
    Devora’s
mouth was a solemn line, but her eyes twinkled. “And of course, you knew this.”
    “Of
course, I knew it! I knew everything Master Tamukin said. But to them, to the
little ones, it’s
all new. So when he asks a question of the class, I’m usually the only one who remembers the answer. It
doesn’t do the
children any good to hear me answering all the Master’s questions. None of us is learning anything. Least
of all me.”
    Devora’s
eyebrows rose. “None
of it is new to you?”
    “Well,
the Religion class is good, although Brother Sisa has to simplify a lot of
things for the children.”
    “Children,” Devora repeated. “At
twelve and thirteen? My son worked full time in the bakery when he was twelve—knew everything about
baking I did. I never had to simplify for him.”
    Kassia stubbornly missed the point. “Well, that’s
the difference, isn’t
it? My mother was shai; I was raised with spells and elemental equations.
Honestly, Devora, I could teach that class. I don’t belong there as a
student.”
    “Evidently,
Master Lukasha thinks you do, or he wouldn’t have put you there. Have you talked to him about
it?”
    Kassia pecked at a star on her Induction robe. “He isn’t there. He got called
away to the court of the king. Damek is the only one I could go to about this
and he’s made it
very clear that Master Tamukin’s
first year class is exactly where he wants me.”
    Devora shrugged. “Well,
then. It doesn’t
sound as if there’s
any more you can do for the moment. Just learn what you can where you can and
hope you get put ahead soon.” She thrust her hands back into her dough and began kneading it with much
spirit. “Now, you’d probably best start
supper. I’ve got
some chores Beyla can do, too. Where is he?”
    Kassia stared at Devora, coloring from the tip of her toes
to the roots of her hair. Beyla! He was still up at Lorant, probably wondering
where in creation his mother had gone and why she hadn’t come to Shagtai’s workshop to collect him.
    Devora awarded her with a wry shake of the head. “You forgot him, didn’t you? Well, supper
can be a little late tonight. Go on up and get him. Leave that Induction robe
with my sewing things. I’ll
see what we can do with it after we’ve
eaten.”
    Chastened, Kassia hurried back through town and up the
forested hill to Lorant. Beyla, rapturously drawing in a kite that had outlived
its message, had only just noticed how late it was when she got there, but her
tardiness had not escaped Shagtai. As she left, arm around her son’s shoulders, he gave
her a disconcerting appraisal with his good eye.
    “Keep
your head about you, Initiate,” he told her, then went back to his kites.
    oOo
    On Celek morn, Kassia donned the starred Induction robe
and set out for Lorant with Beyla in tow. Beneath what was, on her, a
knee-length tunic, she wore a skirt of simple midnight blue that Devora had stayed
up quite late to help her sew.
    She was awed by the cesia at Lorant. It sat at the very peak
of the Holy Hill in a grove of majestic cedars, the most ancient and
spectacular one of all overshadowing its gleaming, polished altar. No incense
was needed here, for the cedars provided their own, and the gray and white
stones that framed the access points shone gold and silver in