27. Sam A Lesson
Sam: A Lesson
Once you have closed the door to the portal, turn and survey the realm. The spirit realm lies before you, filled with countless human souls, from the most worthless villain to the most noble monarch. Your thew will be there, waiting for you, and she will greet you with open arms.
—Eugenio Orrua Olivares, The Art of Securing a Thew
Clementine arrived at Keel House just before nine.
Wister was waiting for her at the front door. “Good morning,” she said as Clem approached the house. “We will begin outside today.” She pointed to a pair of worn, rusty greaves that lay on the doorstep. “Start by putting these on.”
“Are we going to the portal?” Clem asked hopefully.
Wister chuckled. “No. But the single thing most important to your survival is staying anchored. You need to build up your leg strength and practice walking with weighted armor.”
“I see,” Clem replied. She put down her satchel and sat down on the doorstep. “These must weigh ten pounds,” she observed, lifting one of the greaves.
“Seven and a half. We will work up to higher weights slowly. Eventually you will want at least fifteen on each leg to avoid being swept away.”
Clem raised her eyebrows but did not complain.
“Now,” Wister said, “take a look at this.” She held a rolled piece of paper in her hand, which she unfurled and held up for inspection. “This is my map of the spirit realm.”
“What detail,” Clem remarked. It showed an archipelago shaped roughly like a question mark.
Only one island was labeled: “The First Isle.” Two lines connected it to outposts marked “Shelter,” and each shelter cast three lines outward toward doorways marked “Portal.” In a curving band, an unlabeled barrier separated the shelters from the archipelago.
Filling one portion of the map were small curved arrows running parallel to one another in graceful swirls.
The section with the currents was labeled “Weer.”
“What are these?” Clementine asked, pointing to the arrows.
“Currents. Originally, I thought the currents were changeable, and that’s true to some extent—just as the wind can change direction, so can these currents.
But there are also consistent patterns, much like the trade winds.
The currents pull you in almost at once, away from the portal, and then carry you in a stream, like a whirlpool, toward the archipelago. ”
“Is this a particular portal,” Clem asked, pointing to the doorway, “or any portal?”
“This is our portal. The distance from the portal to the shelter is about a third of a mile. From here to that oak,” Wister said, pointing to a massive tree near the cliffs, “is half that. While we discuss your objective, you will practice the walk with those greaves. Back and forth to the oak, twice.”
“Very well,” Clem agreed.
“So, tell me what you know so far about finding a thew.”
Clem took a step forward, the greaves shortening her stride considerably.
“Well, it begins with finding a portal. The Boston area has one portal, its location known only to the enchanters who have used it. Once at the portal, you pass through it backward, closing the door in front of you. There’s no clear instruction after that point.
Some accounts say ‘journey until you find a thew,’ others say ‘proceed to the first isle,’ and Olivares even says ‘a thew will be waiting for you,’ which seems unlikely. ”
“Yes. The instructions are vague in the extreme.” She kept pace with Clem, hands clasped behind her back.
“We can identify four steps. Locating the portal, finding a spirit in the realm, returning to the portal, and binding the spirit. Tell me which of the books you read for today will illuminate these steps.”
“The lead workbook would assist with the last step. It claims that you need a lead box for containing the spirit thew.”
“Exactly.” Wister nodded. “No other material will hold a spirit.”
“Will not hold or will not hold securely?”
Wister considered. “I suppose another material could hold the shroud, as long as one doesn’t mind the spirit meddling with it.”
“And how is the shroud actually removed? Does it require enchantment?”
“No—remember, enchantment doesn’t function in the spirit realm.”
Clem shook her head. “Then why is enchantment treated as a prerequisite to securing a thew?”
“Because knowledge is required for the use of a thew. If an enchanter secures a thew without knowing how to practice enchantment, what would he do with her upon his return?”
Clementine considered this. I could see sweat gathering on her forehead as the heavy greaves began to tire her.
“I see. Could it also be that they require the enchantment to control the spirit thew? A professor at Commonwealth—Throckmorton, the armor export—said something to me about how a thew was likely to steal her shroud if given the opportunity. Perhaps they wish to ensure that they have power over the thew.”
Wister smiled her sharp, wry smile. “Well observed. Yes, enchanters seem to view the spirit thew as an unruly creature, to be tamed and kept in check.”
“Could a spirit thew escape? If she wanted to?”
“She would need to get a hold of her shroud.”
“And thews can’t manipulate lead.”
“That’s right. They can’t even touch it.”
Clem shook her head. She was beginning to be short of breath. “So much of it is coerced. What spirit would wish for such a fate?”
“I agree with you. It’s hard to imagine. And yet I think there are many reasons. A desire to return to the world of the living. A wish to set right some wrong.” As Wister spoke, I sent Clem a rush of approval; she blinked.
“Perhaps even a desire for power,” Wister continued, “just as enchanters have. Don’t forget that spirits, too, gain immense power in this arrangement. It’s no small thing to read thoughts and shape perceptions. There may be many who aspire to that.”
“What, exactly, are the limits of a thew’s powers? Can a thew influence a person’s thoughts as well as read them?”
They had reached the oak, and Wister pointed back to the house at once.
“No pausing. Every moment is precious. At this point, you would be halfway to the shelter.” Visibly tired, Clem nodded and began the return walk.
“I’ll tell you the common wisdom,” Wister went on, “and then I’ll tell you my own thoughts.
Enchanters manipulate matter. They break things, they make things, they mend things, they change things.
With the power of a thew, these abilities are heightened.
With my relics, I can mend a stone wall.
But with a thew, I can transform a stone wall into a cathedral.
Thews, on the other hand, manipulate hearts and minds.
They see our thoughts; they comprehend our intentions; they know if we are friend or foe.
But they can’t change thought. That’s the common wisdom.
” She paused. “However, it should, in theory, be possible. When a thew disguises herself, she’s not altering her matter; she is altering our perception of her appearance.
Why couldn’t this be stretched to other purposes? ”
Clem was listening intently, even as she panted for breath. “I see what you mean. Why isn’t it done, then?”
Wister crossed her arms. “I believe the constraint lies in the enchanter’s nature, not in the nature of enchantment.”
Clem looked at her quizzically.
Wister smiled. “Enchanters are a power-hungry lot, aren’t they?”
“Mostly, yes.”
“And, as you’ve observed, they tend to treat their thews as dangerous underlings.”
“Very much so.”
“My guess is that no man has ever shared the power of enchantment equally with his thew; it’s even less likely that he would yield power to his thew, allowing her to draw the greater force between them.”
Clem nodded with dawning awareness. “And you think that, if this were done, the thew might shape thoughts.”
“That’s my theory.” She smiled again. “But, of course, I haven’t been able to test it.” Wister looked shrewdly at Clem. “You seem interested in trying.”
“I’m curious, that’s all. To me, procuring a thew is a means to an end.”
Wister adjusted the violet glasses and peered at Clem through them. “You would have greater powers with a spirit thew.”
Once again, I sent Clem a rush of approbation. Her brow furrowed. They had reached the house and Clem was breathing hard.
“You may rest for one minute,” Wister said. “At this point you would reach the shelter.”
Clem nodded, panting. When she had recovered her breath a little, she said, “My ambitions are limited. I have no wish to raise cathedrals. All I want is to master protective castings and practice medical enchantment. To do it competently, maybe skillfully. And to be allowed to practice. None of that requires a thew.”
Wister nodded thoughtfully. “I see. Do those objectives have something to do with this?” She gestured to Clementine’s covered forearms.
Clementine grew very still. “What do you mean?”
“Your arms and back,” Wister said calmly. “They clearly require something more than bandages. Medical enchantment would do. And perhaps protective castings would have prevented them.”
Clem was silent. “How can you see them?” she finally asked.
Wister pursed her lips. “I’ll tell you afterward. First tell me about the cuts. Let us be frank with each other in this endeavor, Clementine. Tell me while we do the second lap.”
They set off again toward the oak. To my surprise, Clem recounted truthfully what had occurred, first at Commonwealth and then at the courthouse.
Perhaps Maxwell’s warnings had indeed persuaded her to take the injuries seriously, or perhaps she only wagered that concealing the events from Wister would prove fruitless. Wister listened without interrupting.