The Sword and The Mountain (Kathardra book 1)
A Wall

“Now that we have that straightened out.” Cinder stroked his white and rust beard thoughtfully. “You obviously aren’t going to be able to read on wielding…”

Lessa was able to suppress her retort behind a clenched jaw. Just barely.

“Well then. The likelihood of your success just diminished to nearly nothing. But I can tell you this; the magic will very nearly feel like a muscle you have never used, behind a barrier in your mind. It will be hard to find, and hard to access.”

“That’s it?” she asked dubiously.

Cinder shrugged, “This cannot be done for you. And it is unique to every wielder. Now be gone with you. I need to have some words with our young prince.”

Zar’s eyes appraised Cinder.

“Whatever,” Lessa mumbled as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and swiveled on the ball of her foot. “I’m going to go hang out with Storm.”

Zar caught her arm just above her elbow before she left. “Please don’t fly.” His dark brows knit together clearly aware this was a big ask.

“What? Why?”

“Lessa, we don’t know if you will be able to find the manor again if you leave. The forest may close to you, and you may even have to go through trials again to get back here.”

The image of Zar’s dark thick blood leaking across his shirt flooded Lessa’s brain. She shivered.

“Alright.”

She swept from the library just as Cinder started asking Zar if he knew the history of Errand the First.

“So how did you never know you were using a different language?” Worran asked her back as he followed her from the library.

A growl crawled from Lessa’s throat. She didn’t need Worran making her feel stupid as well.

“I don’t know, okay?” she snapped at him.

“Hey, I’m not the one treating you like dung on a boot. You don’t have to hold iron to my throat,” he snapped back, just as fiercely.

She took a deep breath through her nose. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“So, where you are from, there really isn’t any magic?”

“No. I’ve been saying that for weeks.” They rounded the corner of the hall onto the wide marble staircase that led to the front door.

“I suppose hearing you speak another language made it feel more real for some reason… How does that work? Not having magic? How do you build houses? How do you make clothes and boots?”

“Well, not everyone wears boots where I’m from. And the boots we have are just made in different sizes, and you find the size that fits. They aren’t custom-made like Kathardrean boots. And for houses and things like that, by hand mostly. And machinery.”

“What’s that?”

“Ummm…”

They opened the front doors, revealing the acres of front lawn. Storm was contently basking in the sun just to the side of the front steps.

“It’s… Well. Machines. They are… Metal contraptions built for a specific purpose?” She looked at Worran apologetically as they sat on the lowest step, feet resting on the grass.

“Huh. Magic sounds easier.”

Lessa chewed her lip. “When you can use it.”

“Yeah. I guess when you can actually use it.”

“Any ideas how I’m supposed to do this?” she asked.

Worran squinted off into the distance, resting his elbows on the step behind him. “You could Snap… One of my brothers snapped once… He said the magic poured out of him.”

Arms wrapped around her knees Lessa thought back to the little girl she had seen Snap in Haven.

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“It depends on what emotion makes you snap. If you’re angry, and you have a decent amount of power. Yes, it’s dangerous. But if you Snap from happiness it’s not so bad. I saw a girl get a new puppy once and the gardens around her went from sprouts to fruit-bearing in moments.”

“I don’t know…. Did your brother ever say what it’s like to use magic? I don’t even know how to do that much.”

“He said it was like a well, in his mind. He kind of always knew it was there, but he wasn't strong enough to pull up the water until he got older.”

At that, Lessa frowned. She didn’t have a well in her mind.

“Have you ever tried, Lessa?”

“Tried what?”

“To find your magic?”

Her only answer was to fidget with her sleeves.

“You haven’t.”

“I don’t even know how!”

“Close your eyes.”

She glared at him.

“Trust me.”

Lessa looked at Storm. The dragon’s eye opened to a slit to watch them.

“Maybe you should listen to him.”

Lessa sighed and closed her eyes.

“Now. Look for a well of power.”

“Worran, this is stupid.” Her eyes popped open to glare at him, sitting relaxed against the steps.”

“You’re the one who asked me.” His hands opened to the sky in an approximation of a shrug. “If you want to use magic you need to find it first. I don’t have any so I can only tell you what I’ve heard from others.”

She took a deep breath then rested her forehead against her arms, eyes closed.

After a few minutes, Worran left, back into the castle.

Lessa swam in her own mind, exploring the corners of her own thoughts. The ghosts of the images shown to her in the forest reignited in her mind, but she pushed them away. She doubted they would ever stop haunting her.

“There is nothing here!” she said to Storm.

“You aren’t even trying.”

“Yes, I am.”

A snort of fire and derision scorched the grass just under Storm’s nose.

“If you were actually trying you’d have some progress.”

In response Lessa pushed Storm from her mind and walled her out, preventing the dragon from making contact.

Storm paid Lessa no mind and rested her nose back on the ground.

Again, Lessa closed her eyes and rested her face on her arms. Thoughts and memories flitted through her mind. An embarrassing amount of them were Zar; the impressed look he gave her the last time they sparred and she had executed a particularly difficult dodge and disarm, the way would stretch and flex in the morning.

He did have a really cute smile.

Stupid stupid stupid. She told herself. She was a weapon to him and nothing more. The sword does not look at the person wielding it and admire their dimples.

“Ugh,” she groaned and smacked her palms into her forehead. And then again for good measure. It would do no good if she let herself fall even deeper for him.

She stood and paced in front of Storm’s nose with her hands on her hips. “This is stupid,” she breathed. Then sat by Storm’s nose and closed her eyes once more.

“You’re falling asleep.”

“No, I’m not,” Lessa said, straightening herself up.

No progress had been made by the time Worran fetched Lessa for dinner. She sat at the long dining table, set with a full roast, fresh bread, and vegetables.

“Six days left, dear swordmaiden,” Cinder said the moment Lessa sat at a chair. She ignored him and stabbed her fork into her roast. Having done nothing for the majority of the day Lessa felt like a horse that needed to run. She couldn’t remember the last day she had been this immobile.

“Zar, can we spar after dinner?” Her eyes were full of hope. Her muscles were craving the shock that zapped through them when her blade met his.

“Yes, thats-”

“No.” Cinder interrupted with a sneer. “I’m not done with the princeling.”

Her shoulders sagged. “What are you teaching him anyway?” She shoved a carrot in her mouth.

“His family history. If he wishes to take the Mountain Seat and keep it, he will need to learn from the kings that came before him. Their successes and perhaps more importantly their failures. And do you know how to eat like a human, or just that beast you spend your time rolling about with?”

Sullenly Lessa finished her meal and then returned outside to sit with Storm.

Two more days passed in the exact same manner. Lessa very nearly did not go to breakfast, she sat on the edge of her bed for an extended period staring at her bare toes. Cinder would tell her how many days she had left the second she showed her face. Too busy with lessons that would help prepare him to run a country, Zar couldn’t even give her the time of day.

Worran very nearly seemed as bored as Lessa. He had found a straw-stuffed target in the manner somewhere and he emptied his quiver into the bullseye several times a day.

He offered his bow to Lessa once, but she was barely able to pull the string. And when she loosed she ended up with a burning bruise on her left forearm. He laughed as she stormed away.

Despite Storm’s constant presence, Lessa felt lonely.

She dragged herself to breakfast, sat, and ate quietly.

“Have you made any progress?” Zar asked, from across the table.

Lessa shook her head at her plate.

“Daaay four,” Cinder announced as he swept into the room. “After today you will have three more days to find and use magic, girl. After that, you will leave.”

Lessa did not respond. It wasn’t worth it.

“Hey, Lessa.”

Her eyes slid up to Zar.

“Don’t give up. You can do this.” How he still managed to look hopeful, she didn’t know.

Would he find a different girl who could use magic after she proved worthless? The thought sent a jolt of nauseous envy to her stomach.

“Obviously she can’t. Or it would be done by now,” Cinder laughed in that demeaning way. Lessa sucked in a breath to offer a retort.

“Don’t Lessa. You need him to be your teacher.” Storm warned.

Instead, Lessa left without a word, swallowing her anger and pride.

Once outside Lessa threw herself onto the grass by Storm. “This is going to kill me,” the grass muffled her words.

“You’ll live.”

Lessa groaned and flipped onto her back, closing her eyes to start the futile struggle of looking for magic.

With her eyes closed Lessa identified, but did not move each part of her body. Isolating muscles, and what it would feel like to move them. But not what the muscle would feel like, what her brain would be doing. Not for the first time her internal questings caused Lessa to bump into Storm’s consciousness. They would mentally embrace before she moved on.

Deep in meditation, Lessa found something.

She bolted upright, eyes going wide at what she felt.

“Did you do it?” Stormed asked excitedly.

“I found something! I’m not sure what though!”

Face twisted in concentration she scoured through her mind once more. There it was again. So deep inside her consciousness that Lessa had never noticed. A wall. It seemed to be made of solid granite. Smooth, and impenetrable.

“That has to be it!” Storm said.

“This is weird,” Lessa said, poking at this thing in her mind. Now that she found something she had no idea how she had never noticed this before. It seemed so big, but well hidden in the recesses of her mind.

“Well, now what?” she asked Storm.

“Maybe you should ask Cinder?”

“There is no way I’m asking him anything.”

“Zar?”

“Zar doesn’t have time for me.” It came out harsher than she had intended.

A low growl rumbled from deep in Storm’s chest. “Do not snap at me little Lessa.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just. Ugh. I haven’t done anything in days. I need to run or ride or swing my sword. I’m going crazy here.”

“You’re supposed to be trying to use your magic.”

Lessa frowned at Storm and again closed her eyes and started prodding at the wall in her mind.

She prodded at it for two full days.

When asked if she had made any progress she did not admit to finding this wall in her mind. She could not be certain this actually was magic. But there was nothing else it could be.

No matter what Lessa tried she couldn't break through the wall in her mind. She became much more proficient at finding the wall. She could find the barrier as easily as she commanded her arms to move. But what to do with the wall was another matter.

But it didn't have any doors, windows, or even cracks. Lessa tried brute forcing her way through it but only succeeded in giving herself headaches. It seemed to stretch for miles in her brain. With no way around. But the thought occurred to her that the wall was only a mental abstraction. And if she was assigning distance to this abstraction it actually made more sense that it was circular. There was no going around it, no matter how far along its length she investigated she didn't actually get anywhere.

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