A Practical Guide to Sorcery

Siobhan

Month 9, Day 8, Wednesday 9:00 p.m.

Siobhan—disguised as yet another alternate version of her female form—took a rather nice carriage from Liza’s to the Undreaming Order headquarters. It cost a couple of extra silvers, but she was tired of walking back and forth across what felt like the entire city over and over. She was, technically, rich now, and could afford to pamper her weary feet. Even if the idea of paying for unnecessary things like suspension spells and a nice padded seat still made her cringe.

The carriage offered all the local newspapers, except for The People’s Voice, which she wasn’t sure really counted. Several of the headlines were talking about a recent attack on Osham. Siobhan chose one and began to skim through it, wondering if it had anything to do with the Architects. The details of the actual attack were vague, and the article mostly focused on how Osham was demanding “restitution.” Except their demands were excessive and ridiculous.

She didn’t finish reading the article by the time the carriage arrived at her destination, but she could guess how the High Crown would respond. He would be outraged and double down with bluster and the metaphorical great fist of his power. Siobhan snorted with distaste and hopped out.

The area in front of the building had been spruced up with some repair and cleaning spells, and even the street looked strangely new. People were apparently repaying their debts in whatever way they could. Again, guards were stationed nearby, but they had none of the stoic reserve that she would have expected, smiling and greeting people who passed, often by name. One eyed her, and she smiled back, hoping she seemed harmless. She looked nothing like herself, once again, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t guess at her identity anyway.

Siobhan stepped through the artificial darkness of the entryway and into the large, circular room beyond.

Over a hundred people were seated at rickety old school desks within, though the room could have fit twice that number. A platform had been raised to hold a man and a large chalkboard, and the lights had been turned up bright enough so that people could see without squinting. The Undreaming Order was holding a math lesson.

The kitchen was busy, no doubt preparing the meal that had lured these people here for basic education. Siobhan moved around the outer wall of the room, feeling somewhat surreal as she watched children and adults alike take notes. ‘This is happening because of me. I am indirectly providing a basic education to a hundred people.’ Suddenly, she felt that she might understand why Oliver so enjoyed philanthropy. It was a kind of power that felt different from mastering magic. It wasn’t as heady an achievement, but she felt a deep, warm satisfaction.

Several people were in line for the healer’s room, and another station was set up for people registering their good deeds. She eavesdropped for a while, hiding a chuckle as a woman proudly reported her efforts to feed the local ravens and had her contribution duly noted by the scribe on duty.

Siobhan slipped past to the administrative office, which was filled with several desks now, as well as shelves along the wall to hold records and supplies.

Deidre was there, going through some sort of ledger. She looked up when Siobhan sat in the seat before her, scowling. It took two seconds for her to recognize Siobhan, and to her credit, she reacted rather subtly. Her eyes widened, her throat convulsed with a hard swallow, and her body stiffened. Then, she said, “Welcome.” Her eyes darted to either side, unsure, as she looked at the other administrative workers. She looked back to Siobhan and mouthed, “Secret?”

Siobhan shrugged, nodded, and pointed at the ceiling. There was no use making a scene by announcing herself as the Raven Queen.

Deidre stood. “Let me show you the way, Miss.”

A few others glanced toward them, but everyone else was too busy to pay Deidre and Siobhan much attention.

The second floor was much less busy, though a few of those who called themselves the awakened were there, reading, practicing stealth or lock-picking, or meditating. This time, the two of them got a lot more scrutiny. “Who is she?” one of the awakened asked Deidre.

Deidre hesitated.

“I am Siobhan Naught.” She moved her shadow as if in the face of an invisible light orbiting her. “But please, carry on as you were. You know I do not stand on ceremony.”

The others did not, in fact, carry on as they were, electing to stare instead. Thankfully, no one kneeled or bowed to her.

Deidre took Siobhan to a new addition on the edge of the room, where some of the dividing curtains had been replaced by copper walls and a door. Deidre knocked on the wall as they entered, producing a dull tone. “Lead-centered for the protection, copper plated for magical conductivity. It’s supposed to be for the eventuality that one of our awakened gets in trouble with the law and needs a safe place to stay while we handle the situation. I am not sure if the privacy measures meet your requirements, but this is the best I can offer.” There were two bunk beds within, as well as a shelf with some non-perishable foods and bottles of water.

It was more than Siobhan had expected, and though she hadn’t considered what she was about to share particularly sensitive, she decided that the protections were, in fact, welcome. She sat on one of the lower beds and motioned for Deidre to do the same. “I have been working on some magic that requires a collaborator. This person does not need to be very magically powerful, but they would need to trust me to perform potentially invasive mental magic on them. It should be harmless, but as I have not tested it yet, I cannot absolutely guarantee—”

Deidre shot to her feet. “I’ll do it. I’ll do it!” She tapped both of her feet on the ground rapidly, running in place like she was trying to ascend an invisible stairwell with the world’s tiniest steps, then threw her arms up in victory. “I knew it!” she squealed. Then, she seemed to realize that she was still in the room with Siobhan and sobered, sitting back down and placing her hands primly on her knees. She cleared her throat. “I would be happy to assist you, my queen. I have little experience with spellcasting, but I have no qualms about blood magic or whatever experiments you want to do. I have been practicing basic meditations to stabilize my Will, and have managed to successfully cast the most rudimentary of spells. My capacity is still meagre, but I can assure you, you will find no one with more dedication than me.”

Siobhan was reminded of a cat that had slipped and fallen from a fence, but then sat down and licked itself as if nothing had ever happened. If Deidre was going to pretend her outburst hadn’t happened, Siobhan would play along. She pulled one of her thirteen-pointed star light coasters out of her bag and handed it to Deidre. She had left the invisible mark of her personal sigil on it, along with a few others. Unfortunately, she had discovered that despite the ease of creating the sigils, she could not do so indefinitely, as whatever space in the back of her mind held awareness of them separate from her other mental processes was limited. ‘Perhaps it will grow with time. For the moment, I will have to choose who gets one wisely.’

“That is just a coaster with a light crystal, but I have embedded it with magic that will allow communication. I can find the coaster at all times, past any of the usual wards or intervening materials.” She gestured around the small room. “Walls like these would not impede me. If you carry it with you, I will be able to find you. I can sense through it, seeing and hearing whatever is near.” In fact, it was easier than trying to sense through her shadow, though more than a bit disorienting, and sounds were muffled and somewhat indistinct.

“If you complete one ritual, you may draw my attention with it,” Siobhan continued. “If you complete a second, and keep it under your pillow while you sleep, I should be able to send you a dream. To be more specific, I will be able to send you a short message through a dream. If it works, it will be coherent enough that you can remember the message when you wake.” ʀåℕőꞖЁⱾ

Deidre did not seem to find this at all alarming, nor did she question why Siobhan needed any special preparation to do this, despite controlling people’s dreams supposedly already being one of her abilities. The other woman could barely hold back her excitement as she absorbed the instructions for both rituals with unblinking, ravenous zeal. “If only I had understood your plans better, I would have started practicing meditation and basic spells weeks ago! Will I be too weak, do you think?”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“You only need a handful of thaums. Twenty or less, I would estimate.” They went up to the roof for the first ritual, which required only some basic supplies and Siobhan’s sigil. The flock was halfway through setting up a series of garden beds protected by small glass houses. Deidre beamed at Siobhan’s nod of approval.

Deidre needed to be in sight of the night sky, so there was no good way to keep her activities undeniably private. Under the unblinking eyes of the stars, she went through a process similar to what Siobhan had done to create the sigil in the first place.

Siobhan almost thought she could feel the tugging on that particular tether in her mind as Deidre repeated the chant that would, if effective, allow her to draw Siobhan’s attention when needed. It used a portion of Siobhan’s personal chant, slightly modified.

“I, Deidre Johnson, call out.

I call to she who is a changeling like the seasons.

The daughter of shadow and light.

Of Charybdis mists and raven’s flight.

She who seeks always after mysteries.

I, Deidre Johnson, call out.

By my Will, I beseech your regard.”

When it was finished, Deidre went back inside, into the small metal bunk room, and spoke the chant once more. One of the ephemeral tethers in the back of Siobhan’s mind flared with light that reminded her somehow of a bright, clear bell’s tone. It was very faint, likely because Deidre was so weak, but there was nothing in the part of her mind where the tether to the sigils existed to distract her, so even the faintest change could draw her attention. Siobhan closed her eyes and followed that tether to the source.

Deidre was kneeling on the floor with the light coaster pressed between two praying hands. “Can you hear me, my queen?” she added hesitantly.

The knowledge from the sigil came as if Siobhan had knowledge of the area in a bubble around it, rather than seeing through a window or an eyeball. She could see Deidre and her surroundings, but also knew everything that was in the woman’s pockets, and the fact that she had a mole on her back. The latter two were both somewhat indistinct, as apparently the lack of direct light did have some effect on her perception. Siobhan had no way to reply, so she made her way back down from the roof. She opened the door, closed it behind her, and tried to hold back the giddiness of her own smile. She had a reputation to maintain, after all. No matter how accidentally she had gained it. “I could indeed hear you.”

Luckily, Deidre was just as excited as she was, and was definitely too busy holding back a happy dance to notice Siobhan’s expression.

Siobhan explained the second counter-ritual, which needed to be completed on a cloudy night when no celestial lights could be seen. “I know of no way to retract the permission you will be giving afterward, though I suppose if the sigil—the coaster—is far enough away from your head while you sleep, it would serve the same purpose.”

Deidre wrote it all down, memorized it, and then burned the instructions to ash. “I will complete it as soon as possible. Several times, perhaps, to ensure it works properly and there are no surprise gaps in the clouds while I am casting. And I will take a sleeping potion afterward. I am not sure I will be able to sleep, otherwise. That will not affect the spell, will it?”

Siobhan didn’t know, but finding out would be useful, so she approved it. She would just need to keep an eye on the sky to know when to try.

When Siobhan was ready to leave, Deidre stopped her. “Could you perhaps give us more details about the coming disaster?”

Siobhan wondered what she was talking about. “The disaster?”

“The one that will cause widespread death, destruction, and famine,” she said, though it sounded somewhat like a question.

“Do you mean…the celerium running out? There are at least half a dozen others, but that is the big one, I think.” It was true that if the magical element of industry became a bottleneck, everything else could begin to fail, too. Hopefully, it would not come to that. Even if the journal Oliver held contained no hint of a solution, they would have years yet to start preparing for critical depletion. Surely, even if everyone had to walk around with huge orbs of thaumaturge-created gemstones to cast, life would find a way to continue on. There would just be some upheaval during the transition. Maybe the Crowns’ expedition would even find a new source before then.

“Ah.” Deidre blinked at her, wide-eyed. “But you have a method to create celerium. Is that true?”

“I am impressed with your information network,” Siobhan said. Most still didn’t know what had actually been in Myrddin’s stolen journal. It wasn’t, technically, the truth, but she didn’t think it wise to explain the whole situation with the two stolen journals to Deidre.

With a blush, Deidre said, “Well, I don’t know that it’s so impressive. Just some basic deduction and a few rumors.” However, the confirmation had relaxed her quite a bit. “Then…is there anything particular we should prepare?”

Siobhan was pleased by her caution. As she had learned personally and repeatedly, one could never be too prepared for disaster. “A little of everything, I suppose. The kinds of things you might want to buy at the last minute, and that everyone else would be trying to buy, too. The kinds of things you cannot make locally. If you do not have it on hand by the time you need it, it is already too late.”

Deidre nodded like this was something profound.

“I do not wish to cause a premature panic. Do not mention this to those who do not need to know, but feel free to consult with the other awakened that you trust. Also, do not bother trying to buy up celerium.”

“Of course not,” Deidre agreed, rubbing her palms together with a faraway look. “Though if it is not too bold to say it, my queen, many would find a reward of celerium an irresistible lure to the cause, or a handsome reward.”

Siobhan almost choked on her own saliva. “Hmm.” Internally, she screamed. ‘Is Deidre really hinting that she wants some more celerium? Does she think I can just hand it out like rock candy?’ She calmed somewhat, and realized, ‘Maybe she just needs something with a better capacity for her own growth as a thaumaturge.’ Siobhan knew well how frustrating of a bottleneck that could be. After a long moment of hesitation, and the reminder that she might one day be able to turn beast cores into replacements, she pulled out the extra Conduit that she had taken to keeping in a secret pocket inside her bag. “Here. You may sell this and use it to buy several lesser Conduits, celerium or otherwise. Use one for yourself and keep the rest for those who need them.” Being able to buy a Conduit might be the difference between being able to get a job as an Apprentice or not, or for people to be able to practice magics passed down by their families. Or, for someone like her, who couldn’t pay to afford a formal education, it could be the difference in being able to use their skills to survive or not. And it wasn’t as if she was doing anything with her hoarded celerium in the meantime, anyway.

Deidre took it with thanks and a bow, but none of the extreme gratitude that such a generous gift really deserved.

‘Don’t be childish,’ Siobhan reminded herself. ‘You’re coming to enjoy the feeling of superiority a bit too much.’

Before she left, Siobhan gave Anders, Jackal, and Sharon a coaster with her sigil on it, keeping one for herself. She explained that if they should find anyone with those same coasters, that didn’t mean that person was her follower, necessarily, nor a member of the Undreaming Order. However, they should still provide aid if those people were in need—without giving away any secrets.

She returned to continue her research in shamanry and practice the exercises that would stabilize her Will for sending dream messages. Some of the exercises were stranger than others. A few, she had learned when trying to find a way to deal with the nightmares, and others were new.

Periodically, she would stop and recall exactly what she had been doing for the last twenty minutes, from the first moment, to the last. This was considered one of the harder exercises, but Siobhan had never found memory tricks difficult. As a side benefit, it helped to better connect the things she was learning to other knowledge, so they were recalled more readily outside of intensive searching. To add on to that, she would analyze the logic of what she was experiencing and how she had gotten where she was. To make this exercise harder, she could try to remember everything in reverse order, from the last moment to the first.

There were prospective memory exercises that required her to remember to perform an action when a trigger was met. For instance, Siobhan set a trigger that when she saw a woman in a red dress, Siobhan would tap her right thigh three times. When she heard a rooster’s crow, she would murmur to herself, “The rooster crows, but is it dawn?” and other things of that ilk.

There were other, more physical exercises, too, like examining the structure of her hands detail, or doing particular movements that used a range of specific muscles.

Some of the exercises involved recalling your dreams. Those, she ignored.

She got a chance to try out the magic only a few days later. It required nothing but her Will, a bit of power, and the smoke from a stick of specially formulated incense.

Since the spell did not work on sympathetic principles, she didn’t bother to leave the massive stone barrier of the restricted archives. She ran through the exercises to stabilize her mind against turbulence and decoherence first, and then reached through the tether leading to Deidre. Her message was fairly short, but complex enough to test how well the person on the other end could receive information and retain it.

Prepare three dog biscuits, one silver coin, and a jar of honey. Feed the dog biscuits to Bear with regards from me. Place the silver coin on the roof. Use the jar of honey to create some stick-candy and distribute them to the young members of the flock. If you received this message, set off the agreed upon signal.

Wake up!

She tried to imbue the last order with urgency and an imagined sense of adrenaline to ensure that if Deidre had taken any sleeping potion, she would be able to overcome its soporific effects.

Then Siobhan returned to her studies. Fifteen minutes later, she felt the ping from Deidre’s copy of her sigil, and reached out to sense through it. Siobhan grinned as Deidre repeated her own words back to her, word for word.

‘One more drop of true power, acquired.’

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