May 2008 - Jes & Dante
I woke up on a polyurethane mattress designed to prevent bedbugs. It stuck to my skin like adhesive and left bright red marks on my face. My three bunkmates and I shambled out of bed as the warden shouted that it was time to leave the shelter. Breakfast would be over in 30 minutes, and then they would kick us out by force if necessary.
I stumbled into the common room that smelled like bleach and choked down a breakfast of donated cold cereal. Some fellow guttersnipes chatted nearby.
"Hey, new guy," an outgoing transgirl at the end of the table called to me. Her name was Faerie. She wore lots of dark eyeliner, hot pink lipstick, and torn clothes. Her hair was dyed cyan. "We''re having a friendly disagreement and need a third party tiebreaker. Who would win in a fight, Batman or Iron Man?"
Behind her, a grainy bootleg copy of Iron Man was playing on an old television, likely what prompted the discussion. Both Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne were billionaire tycoon vigilantes. As a comic book geek, I had already given this question a lot of thought.
"That depends on too many variables; location, context," I responded.
"No, no," spoke Faerie''s friend, Alex. His voice was soft and deliberately lowered. He had no facial hair but short brown hair on top. Both of them were early in their transition. "Colosseum fight to the death. No reasons. No explanations. Who wins?" he demanded.
"In that case, probably Iron Man."
"That is horseshit!" Faerie slammed her fist on the table. "Batman would set off an electromagnetic pulse, kick Tony Stark''s little bitch ass, and call it entertainment! Without his suit, he''s just a narcissist."
"Sorry, baby, but that''s Iron Man 2, Batman 1." Alex''s taunt was said with affection, which confused me, but then I figured it out. They were two trans people going in opposite directions together. It was so charming I couldn''t help but smile.
"You, sir, strange new person, are so wrong!" Faerie pointed her finger at me, but I wasn''t ready to concede yet.
I responded, "In a sudden death cage match, the Invincible Iron Man would blow up Batman with his many guided missiles. Tony Stark is a genius, but Bruce Wayne is a mastermind. If he had the time to devise a plan of attack, Batman would win."
"That sounds like Bruce Wayne 2, Tony Stark 1, peach," Faerie shot back at Alex.
"He said both and neither. Screw it. It doesn''t matter, anyway."
They went back to talking to each other and ignored me. I stretched my neck to watch the movie; when a small tangle of a girl, who happened to be in my line of sight, looked at me and yelled, "The fuck are you looking at, bitch?"
"Nothing." I twitched and tried to act normal. "I was just watching the movie."
"It''s a piece of shit." The girl stumbled to sit across from me. Alex and Faerie got up and left, and I thought about following them. Instead, I tried acting casual, like I get verbally accosted all the time. I''m an expert at this, my body language said. The effect seemed to make the crazy girl both unsure and derisive, but she was too dull to notice. We locked eyes, and I asked her name.
She blinked several times in surprise but finally said, "Jesse. Jes. Call me Jes."
"I''m Sebastian. You can call me Bastian. What are you in for?" I asked, trying to be jocular.
"Ran away when I was fifteen. Been homeless ever since." Her head bobbed, and she glared at me as she said it, daring me to offer advice or condemnation.
Instead, I asked her about her life. Jes told me when she was twelve, her father gave her meth and then raped her. It went on for years until she ran away. She made friends with a string of sleazy men and kept to herself over the next several years, rapidly losing her grip on sanity.
She had been an addict since before she knew what the word meant, her life was destroyed by the very person who should have protected her. To compound the injustice of it, the world feared and avoided her. I might have been the first person in weeks to ask her about her day. She didn''t make sense all the time, but I think she was grateful for the company. She needed help, someone to love and take care of her. In a few months, I would see Jes'' picture on a wall and discover that she had died of a heroin overdose.
Most people look away from poverty. I didn''t have the luxury of looking away. It was my existence. Fortunately for me, I''ve never felt at home. My sense of ''otherness'' worked in my favor on the streets. I wasn''t like them, or so I told myself, so I didn''t stay long or make friends. The few I was friendly toward, I kept at bay. Instead, I spent more time on Castro Street, cruising and meeting people.
One night I went to a toga party at an acquaintance''s house. Only men attended, and all were nearly nude. "Paper Planes" by M.I.A. was playing over the house speakers, and young men were dancing in the open spaces between furniture.
I didn''t know anyone there, and I was still shy and soft-spoken, so I kept to the edges and sipped from my red Solo cup, feeling nervous and full of adventure. It wouldn''t be long before someone came up to talk to me, so I watched the dancers and tried to act bored but not too bored.
Before long, a dashing young man stepped forward to greet me. He was handsome in a way I''d never seen before, with narrow, golden eyes and short, auburn curls.
"Hi, I''m August," he said and thrust out his hand formally. His voice was low and precise. He wore a toga made of military camouflage material.
"Hi, I''m Sebastian," I said softly, and my heart skipped when he smiled at me.
"Are you here with anybody?" he asked.
"No. I don''t know anyone here. The owner just invited me online. I wasn''t sure I''d come."
"Well, now you know someone here."
I blushed and smiled. He scared me, he was handsome and friendly. I so wanted him to like me.
"Are you here with anyone?" I parroted. I sucked at making small talk, but I knew to ask questions. People love talking about themselves.
"Yeah, I''m with my boyfriend and our friends," he answered. My smile diminished imperceptibly. "We noticed you over here sitting by yourself, and I thought I''d lend a hand. Come, sit by me."
He was so gracious, I could hardly refuse. So I followed him to sit on a curved, white, leather couch. Multiple gay boys were sprawled out and nuzzling each other in a way that sent blood rushing to my dick. Introductions were shared, and August sat next to me, his thigh touching my thigh. Many of the men looked me up and down. August''s boyfriend, Travis licked his lips and leaned forward to speak. He was nearing middle age, with a pale, pinched face and a confident voice.
"So, Sebastian, we were just discussing how Mayor Gavin Newsom signed a bill into effect, and we can get married now. Isn''t that wonderful?"
"I suppose. I read about it some, but to be honest, it feels weird to me that marriage is our main political issue. From what I''ve seen, Queer communities are crippled by medical expenses, drug addiction, and homelessness. Did you know over 40 percent of the homeless youth in America are Queer? Their families disown them, or they run away, and then they fall through the cracks. Or worse, they''re sent to gay conversion camps, which are effectively torture centers. Why aren''t we focusing our efforts there, instead of on an issue that mostly affects affluent people?"
Travis blinked and cocked his head to the side as if he heard an unfamiliar noise.
"I think as you get older, you''ll understand that we''re fighting for dignity. We''re demanding a seat at the table. We can''t fix those issues if we aren''t respected and a part of the decision-making process."
I flushed with embarrassment. The first thing I said at a party was childish. I sipped my drink and shrank into the couch. Dante, a sharp-dressed young man with luscious black locks and a roguish face, spoke up, "I think I hear what Bastian''s saying. Marriage doesn''t help homeless teenagers."
"Yes," admitted Travis, his voice rising, "but that''s beside the point. Our fight is about common law. It''s for human dignity and being heard-"
"Let''s change the subject," loudly interrupted a bleached blonde chubby man who called himself Starr. As he spoke, he caressed the thigh of a nearly unconscious man who rolled his head away and grunted. "Sebastian," he continued, "You''re new here, aren''t you? Where are you from?"
"Farmville, Washington. I only arrived in San Fran two months ago."
"Whoa," Dante interjected. "First thing you gotta learn is, nobody says San Fran. It''s San Francisco or The City. SF is acceptable, and Frisco might be okay, depending on who you ask, but never San Fran."
"Oh," I said meekly. "Thanks for letting me know."
"No biggie," he smiled, and our eyes locked. "Do you smoke weed?" He asked.
"I''ve smoked twice before. I like it, but I also kind of don''t.
"Well, I''ve got some smoke if you want to join me outside."
"Yeah, okay." My heartbeat jumped and skipped. Dante seemed effortlessly charismatic. His every word and gesture had style. I liked him at once. We went out to the veranda, and I smoked for the third time in my life. My vision was beginning to sway. My fears and inhibitions melted away. Dante and I flirted for a while. I can''t remember what we talked about, but I know I dodged most of his questions. He was so charming and attractive. I wanted him to like me. If he knew the truth about me, he would find me a fraud. I didn''t belong in his world any more than I belonged in Jes'' world. Indeed, I had more in common with her than I did with him.
When Dante noticed I was being evasive, his questions became more pointed. I was a game to him, a mystery to solve, but I wasn''t having it. When he asked where I lived, I leaned in, kissed him, and said, "your place is closer."
He toked his joint and looked at me bemusedly. "So eager. You don''t want to wait a little? Aren''t you afraid I won''t respect you in the morning?"
I thought about it for a moment and took a step toward him, grabbing the joint from his fingers. "I don''t much care either way," I bluffed and puffed. "It''s up to you. I turn into a pumpkin in a few minutes, anyway."
"How come? You gotta curfew?"
"Something like that, yeah. I could spend the night over there, or I could spend the night with you. Which would you prefer?"
He took the joint back and considered me with curiosity and fear. "I just met you. What if you''re an assassin or a spy or something?"
I laughed. "That is ridiculous. Do I look threatening? What, you wanna frisk me? Pat me down?" I said with a wink.
He laughed with me. "That might put my mind at ease, yeah."
So I took a step closer, held his hands, and put them on my chest. "Let me know if you find a wire. I''ll be so embarrassed."
He grinned nervously and let his hands explore my body, my arms, my back, and finally grab my ass. Dante pulled me in and kissed me right. I felt his erection through his jeans.
He lived a mile away up a hill. We stopped several times to kiss and grope each other. The sex was fantastic. It was the first time I enjoyed bottoming. All the other times, it was hot but uncomfortable, but with Dante, he fit. It felt great. We did it three times that night and into the morning. In the afterglow, I told him the truth about me. I was afraid he''d move away, but he didn''t.
In the morning, he woke me with breakfast in bed. Homemade french toast with maple syrup and a side of fruit. I was mystified. Never in my life had someone done such a thing for me, and I fell madly in love with him in that instant, though he never knew it. He showered while I ate and inspected his collection of books. I recognized a few. I knew one from TV, The Audacity of Hope, Barack Obama''s campaign memoir.
The 2008 US presidential election was in full swing. On the right, John McCain, war veteran, maverick (whatever that meant). On the left, still unfolding, an epic primary battle between the future first Black president versus the future first woman nominated by a major party, a clash of titans, Barack Obama vs Hillary Clinton.
Political journals, magazines, biographies, and studies were scattered across his desk, coffee table, and bookshelves. Dante was a news junkie. He returned wearing nothing but a towel and a thick mane of chest hair. Noticing my curiosity, he asked, "Have you been following the election?"
"A little. Not much. Seems everyone is sick of Bush and the Republicans, so whoever the Democrats choose will probably go on to be president. Who do you think will win?"Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
"Oh, Clinton, definitely," he said with confidence. "All the polls, everyone says the same thing. Obama won a few early states, but Clinton will sweep the western states. She''s got the political influence. It''s all about who you know."
That sounded right. He was so well-read and mature, though only twenty-nine. I thought he was everything I wanted to be. He knew people. He knew stuff. He read things and brushed his teeth every night and morning, just like you''re supposed to.
"Anyway, I''ve got a class in an hour," he dropped the towel to the ground and pressed himself against me. "Plenty of time." He kissed me. I leaned away in his arms.
"I need a shower, too. Plus, I just ate, and I haven''t used the bathroom yet. I''m not ready."
"That''s okay," he said while bouncing on the balls of his feet, "I cleaned out in the shower. It''s your turn to fuck me."
I was an insecure top and didn''t last long, but Dante was kind about it. I showered and left, and we didn''t talk for over a year. He ghosted me over text.
My imagination went into overdrive, offering explanations why he didn''t want me. Why I was unworthy. I would lay in bed for hours with my mind screaming. The only peace I could find was when I closed my eyes and returned to Eden.
Chapter 3 - Crystal Caverns
When Lyn woke up, Apple was missing. Lyn searched the usual places to no avail.
All the workers were downstairs catering to visiting dignitaries. Captain Reynard couldn''t be found either, so Lyn was forced to ask her governess Dina, a mean older woman who knew only basic sign language.
One might expect the governess of a deaf princess to sign (if not fluently, at least conversationally), but Apple had interpreted for Lyn since she was a baby, so Dina never bothered to improve her sign language.
Moments such as these made Dina feel inadequate, and Dina was the type to resent others for her own negative emotions, lashing out from a place of resentment.
Dina understood Lyn was asking for Apple, but she was signing so fast Dina couldn''t understand anything else.
"Apple''s not here," Dina said while signing ''not here.''
''I know she''s not here! I don''t need you to tell me that. I need your help finding her.''
Dina was getting irritated. The castle had countless interesting and foreign guests in attendance, and she was busy arguing with a child.
"Go to your room," she ordered while pointing upstairs.
Lyn became inconsolable. She started screaming, terrorizing the guests and staff until Dina carried her upstairs and locked her in her room.
Lyn stormed across the carpeted floor like an angry tiger in a cage. She plotted her revenge with ruthless cunning, and when she wasn''t plotting, she howled like a wild wolf cut off from her pack.
All that changed the instant Apple hopped cutely through the door. Lyn forgot her rage and tears in an instant and rushed to embrace her familiar. Trembling with emotion, Lyn explained how her governess would only sign that Apple was "not here."
Apple groomed Lyn''s hair with her tiny fingers, nodding along to the story, but when Lyn asked where Apple had been, her familiar was slow to respond. The question confused Apple. She felt guilty but didn''t know why. She replied that Captain Reynard sent her on a mission, but she couldn''t say what it entailed. Being a child, Lyn was accustomed to that answer and didn''t press the issue.
A pause hung over them as Apple removed a twig from Lyn''s hair. The girl was unwashed from their earlier adventures. Dirt and tree sap covered her hands, arms, and legs. Apple motioned for the girl to bathe, and her little princess marched obediently to the washroom. Apple helped her change in and out of the tub, all while telling Lyn stories. They spent more time laughing and goofing than bathing, but in a blink, they were finished. Party morsels were still being prepared and served downstairs, so Apple arranged for some to be brought up. As they waited, they built a pillow fort next to the window. Delicious foods brought from faraway places and made special for the Perigee Festival were brought to the door. Then together, they read from Captain Reynard''s list of required stories. Occasionally, Lyn would inquire about the text, and they would stop. Apple would explain patiently, utilizing the accumulated knowledge of the Aether to inform her answers, but the stories ended, and their fortress of linens and pillows offered no protection from the coming storm.
Arthur announced himself and entered the room. Captain Reynard followed him like a shadow. The steward seemed uncharacteristically melancholy, though he wore a brave smile. His duties often kept him from his youngest daughter for days at a time. She ran toward him, with her short, messy hair bouncing wildly. Her face came alight, and she looked just like Emma. Arthur''s heart shattered, and not for the first time. All the moments he devoted to the revolution, he thought, moments wasted, not spent with Lyn. When would they see each other again? Anxiety gripped him, but Arthur was a man with a vision.
Arthur knelt to face his daughter and brushed her cheek with singular affection. He signed that Lyn would leave tonight with Apple and Captain Reynard. They were to make a game out of it. No one could see them go. It was a secret.
Lyn was perplexed. Why? she asked.
Her father signed that Reynard would teach her to use magic, but it had to be done in secret. He told her, the ability to wield magic is a rare gift, and some might see her as a threat. So it would be best to keep her powers hidden until she had mastered them.
Lyn asked to say goodbye to Morgan and Rafael before they left, but Arthur shook his head. He told her they were busy with matters of state, but she would see them again before long. It would only be for a short time. Lyn was about to press the issue, but Apple hopped forward and slipped her tiny hand into Lyn''s. The simple gesture of solidarity distracted Lyn from her sense of unease. She smiled and shrugged, and it was settled.
Captain Reynard rushed forward to lift the little one off her feet and twirled her in the air. Lyn let out a goofy, artless laugh that raised everyone''s spirits. Reynard set her down, and together they quickly packed necessities. Lyn wasn''t a material child, so it was up to Apple to plan ahead. As Lyn and her familiar were getting ready to leave, Arthur and Reynard discreetly kissed and said their goodbyes.
Arthur bid his daughter one final and loving goodbye. Then he turned and left to clear their path to the wine cellar. If they escaped undetected, no one would notice them gone for several hours, giving them ample time to get far away. They waited as Arthur directed the guards elsewhere. When enough time had passed, Reynard lifted Lyn''s travel bags with ease and motioned for the little witch to follow his lead.
All the lights in the hall were put out, but silvery moonlight shined through the windows and bounced off dark, lacquered wooden walls and floors.
Lyn felt the castle hum with activity. Her brother''s victory would be cause for celebration for many nights to come. Everyone would be in the great hall and intoxicated. It was an ideal night to make a secret getaway. Reynard stopped in front of a nondescript door, reached into his bag, and removed a key. He unlocked the door and opened it, motioning for Lyn to step through.
She looked in and saw stairs descending into pitch blackness. Lyn''s heart quickened with excitement, and for the first time that night, fear. She pulled Apple down from her shoulder and held her close, taking comfort in her warmth and fur. Apple, in return, nuzzled her head against Lyn''s neck. She stepped slowly through the door, and Reynard followed and locked it behind them in a single graceful movement. Lyn didn''t see it because she was in complete darkness.
A fearful noise rose in Lyn''s chest, not a scream so much as a whine, when suddenly, a spark of light swirled and coalesced into a ball of fire, illuminating the stairway. Reynard had summoned fire using magic! The fireball hovered elegantly over Reynard''s outstretched hand. Lyn was so impressed, she stifled her fears. She would learn this magic, she told herself, and she will not be afraid. Slowly, the fireball began to float downstairs, and they followed it.
The stairs spiraled downward on and on. Lyn had no idea how far beneath the main floor they were. Her feet and shins were sore. She glanced behind to make sure Apple was close by. Eventually, the stairs bottomed out and opened into a large room without any windows. Reynard concentrated. The air around him radiated like air above a fire. The fireball grew brighter, like a little sun, illuminating a wine cellar. Fully stocked wine racks lined the walls alongside enormous wooden casks. The space was filled with barrels of wines and meads. Stewards of Castle Moondial must have been aging wine for generations.
But Reynard wasn''t interested in the wine. He led them across the room with clear intention and stopped in front of the largest cask in the cellar, a massive oaken barrel. It touched the ceiling and was as wide as it was tall. Smaller barrels were stacked on shelves on either side of it. Reynard ran his hands along the side of the barrel until he found a groove, then pushed and pulled something until the barrel swung open like a door. The inside was empty, but on the floor was a small hole that opened to a narrow downward tunnel. It was large enough for Lyn to crawl through easily, but Reynard had to tie their luggage to his leg and squeeze through. Apple closed the barrel behind them and followed down the hole.
As she crawled on her knees, Lyn wondered if it was morning yet. She had no idea how long they''d been descending. Dina would notice she was missing by morning. Lyn thought of her brother and sister, Raf and Morgan. Would they miss her? Would they hate her for not saying goodbye? The stone scraped her knees unforgivingly, and she felt tired and miserable. She looked up and saw the little sun float into a great empty room.
Lyn squeezed through one last crevice and stumbled onto stone. Reynard and Apple followed, and together, they looked out into a darkness so vast it left them silent. The idea of disturbing anything slumbering in the dark filled Lyn with dread.
Once more, the air around Reynard rippled, and his features seemed to blur and lose their detail. He fell to one knee and took several large breaths, but the ball of light grew brighter, and as it rose and floated forward, they looked out into an enormous cave system. It was larger than anything Lyn had seen before. Larger than Castle Moondial. Larger even than the cliff that Castle Moondial was built on. They had descended deeper than the shoreline of Crescent, under the ocean itself. The caves went on for days and days. The magnitude of the space settled on them as Reynard recovered his energy.
The captain decided it would be best to rest before continuing. He dimmed the light to conserve energy and pulled out some water, nuts, and jerky from his pack. By the time they finished eating and making water, their eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and details of the cavern came into focus. Above them, thousands of glowworms twinkled like starlight in the dark. Giant crystal formations covered the cave walls, refracting light cast by the glowworms.
They began their descent into the sparkling darkness, Reynard leading the way. Apple and Lyn walked side by side. It was the farthest Lyn had ever been from Castle Moondial. Her father loved her, but he treated her like a fragile thing like she was disabled. She resented it. Morgan was the only person who never made Lyn feel different or inadequate. By now, father would have told Morgan that she was gone. Would she miss her, Lyn wondered? She tried to put those thoughts aside. Lyn would learn to control magic, and no one would ever look at her with pity again. They would look at her with fear and awe. The thought made her brave.
They hiked past towering crystal columns the size of ancient redwood trees. Even in the darkness, everything seemed to sparkle in rainbow colors. Buzzing insects flew by them at frantic intervals, drawn to Reynard''s firelight. More than once, Lyn screamed as a flying creature swooped down to devour a bug that flew too close. They passed a crystal column near enough to inspect it. Enormous green and purple phosphorescent mushrooms grew on the base and surface of the column. Lyn reached out to touch it, but Captain Reynard grabbed her arm forcefully and pulled her back from it.
''That would burn the flesh off your bones,'' Apple interpreted for the captain. ''The crystals were formed by acid. Mushrooms grow on the crystals. Bacteria feed on the mushrooms and secrete more acid, and insects eat the bacteria.'' Lyn leaned in and saw drops of dew-like liquid on the mushrooms fall to the cave floor and roll to flow into a small stream. They followed the acid stream for what felt like half a day. When they stopped to rest, the stream had become a river. More than once, Lyn saw translucent silvery crabs leap from the acid river to battle and devour cat-sized, roach-like insects.
They stopped for a lunch of nuts and dried fruits, and when they were finished, Apple jumped into Reynard''s arms and interpreted his words for Lyn:
''It''s time to begin your lessons.''
In a snap, Lyn was at silent, rapt attention. Reynard smiled and continued. ''Before you can use magic, you need to know what it is, where it comes from, and what it isn''t.
''The first thing to understand is that magic doesn''t come from nothing. It can''t create something out of nothing. The energy used to cast the spell has to come from somewhere. Witches and wiccans can either use their own quintessence, or they can use external mana. Both these options have risks, costs, and limitations.
''When you turned the lights up yesterday in the hall, you were using your quintessence; and as you experienced, eventually you run out, and you''re left exhausted. If you blunder a too-costly spell in battle, it''ll be your last mistake. That''s why it''s vital to know your limits.
''We''re going to use the other method: harvesting and harnessing the mana from our surroundings. This cave is teeming with life and potential, but even that has limits. Different environments have different properties, which determine what kinds of spells you can cast. If you draw too much mana from your environment, you can leave it barren and lifeless. Stones and minerals are among the safest mana sources, but natural objects have a slow yield. It can be decades or even centuries until a mineral vein refreshes its mana potential, which brings us to the next law of magic: everything has potential. Some things have more potential than others, but everything can be subject to change. How much potential a thing has depends on its environment and its position in that environment. For example, the glowworms hanging above us have great potential. At any given moment, any one of them could catch a fly or a bird in their traps. Or their grip could slip, and they could fall to the ground or into the acid. Or they could mate. Possibilities increase potential. The more possibilities, the more mana it can yield; in turn, the more powerful spells you can cast.
''But as I said before, there are limits and risks. You''re constrained by the potential in your immediate vicinity, and if you extract all the potential from something living, you''ll kill it. That should be avoided for several reasons that you will come to understand.
''For now, I want to close your eyes and imagine your mind opening and expanding. I want you to reach out and feel for the energy around you. Don''t worry if you don''t find it at first; it takes time and meditation. Clear your mind and surrender to a single thought. Concentrate on my firelight, and replicate it if you can. Do it now.''
Lyn closed her eyes and reached out with her mind for Reynard''s firelight, but she wasn''t sure. She opened her eyes a couple times to see if anything happened, but Apple translated that Lyn needed to be calm and surrender to the cave. Feel the cave. She looked around for things to feel and saw a giant phosphorescent mushroom not far away. Lyn reached out for it, and she thought she felt something tangible. Her mind floated up to the glowworms suspended like twinkling, deadly pearls, and she sensed them, too. Then she concentrated on Captain Reynard''s firelight. She imagined pulling them to her and spinning a light of her own. A strange sensation took over Lyn, like warm water going down, but she didn''t stop or open her eyes. She felt depleted, but something else, too: terrible fear and pain. Glowworms fell dead from the ceiling to land on her arms and in her hair. She opened her eyes to cry out and saw that the mushroom she had sensed earlier was shriveled and dark. Bugs were dead on the ground beneath it and all around. Lyn even saw a dead bird. Its skin was pale and transparent. Its feathers were few, and it had no eyes. Instead, it had large ear-like horns where eyes would typically be. Lyn started to cry because she felt them die. She felt their fear and confusion, and it hurt. But shining above her, an orb swirled with colors of the lives she put out: a small sphere of purple, fire red, silver, and white. Lyn felt tired.
Captain Reynard spoke again, and Apple interpreted:
''That was an excellent first effort. You took a lot of mana from living sources, but now you know why it''s better to avoid those sources. To harvest mana from living things, you have to feel them and feel what they feel. Regularly experiencing that kind of fear and pain does harm to a person''s mind. That''s why, if one does harvest mana from the living, it''s best to use restraint and moderation. Trust and consent make all the difference. Now I want you to concentrate on the nonliving sources. It''s harder, but there are ways to make it easier.
''Objects in motion have more energy than objects at rest. Try to concentrate on the river. It''s constantly moving. Imagine yourself grabbing hold of the river and threading it into your magelight. The river will make it brighter.''
Lyn did as she was instructed and felt for the river. Concentrating on her light, she reached out and pulled. This time, she didn''t pull so hard all at once. Again, she felt something move through her, but it didn''t hurt this time. She opened her eyes and saw that her light was now a swirling orb of turquoise, fire red, purple, silver, and white, and larger than the captain''s formidable head. It shined beautifully in the dark, sparkling cavern. Captain Reynard smiled and dropped Apple. He turned, walked to a nearby crystal stalagmite, and broke off a crystal the size of his finger. Reynard returned and held up his hand toward Lyn''s magelight. He pulled the light into the crystal and handed it to Lyn. It shined brightly.
Apple translated:
''Some objects can store mana, and crystals make excellent vessels. Even though you used mana from outside yourself, harnessing that mana still exacts a toll. It gets easier. With practice, your stamina will increase. Let''s rest for a while, and we''ll continue moving after you nap. All the energy you harvested today is stored in this crystal, and if you conserve it wisely, you can use this mana for a long time.''
Lyn accepted the gift with a wide smile, grateful to take a nap. She put the crystal in her pocket, laid down, closed her eyes, and was out like a light.