A Tale That Dawned [Book 4 of Selvina's Tale series]

Chapter 22: Mystery of the Light

Cindy smiled wide at the small globe of water hovering between her cupped hands, her eyes sparkling with delight. She watched it revolve slowly, its spherical shape distorted with constant bulges and depressions, as if some invisible creature was pushing and pulling from within. She understood it as her inexperience in making a perfect sphere and focused harder, her smile disappearing and her brows furrowing. Gradually, the sphere's shape smoothed and was nearly perfect.

"Ha! Well done!"

Her uncle's booming voice startled her and the globe of water burst apart, splashing on her hands to drip down to the ship's deck. Pursing her lips in anger, she turned on her approaching uncle and wagged a finger at him. "I almost had it! You know you can't disturb me when I'm concentrating!"

The robust, bearded war veteran looked like a whipped dog for a moment, shame showing in his grey eyes, until it was banished by frustration. Waving his hands high in exasperation, he bellowed, "How am I supposed to know you were practising your magic? I was talking to the captain and just came to see what you were doing!"

"You didn't have to yell when you saw me!"

"I was congratulating you!"

Cindy, about half as high as her uncle Ruslan, folded her arms over her chest and frowned. "You could have saved it until I was done."

"Bah! I was trying to help..."

Cindy sighed. This wasn't the first time it had happened. Her uncle meant well and she loved him—and nothing would change that—but many times he acted without thinking and her progress in mastering the elements had slowed considerably because of that. He gave her all the time she needed to train and practise but when he tried to "help" it would most often do quite the opposite. He sometimes busied himself with training the ship's crew in swordsmanship but most were inexperienced and needed much patience, which Ruslan certainly did not have. His other pastimes were helping with the regular ship duties, as long as he didn't get in the way, sharpening his sword into the keenest blade in all of Faeryum, exercising and keeping in shape. Those tasks busied him most days but today was one where there was little to do as the winds were strong and fair and most of the ship's crew was resting below decks, uninterested in swingings swords. Sir Gawaine, who had accompanied them as a representative of Avalon, had been below decks most of the time, having little love for sea travel, and thus was of no help to Ruslan's situation.

Cindy eyed her uncle, who appeared clearly sorry for disturbing her but still angry and upset. She hadn't meant to injure his pride and placed a hand on his arm. He looked down at her, his jaw tight, and she offered him a small smile, which relaxed him.

"I don't understand why Merlin couldn't have come along," he muttered. "I don't know anything about your magic and I feel like I'm doing nothing but holding you back."

"Don't feel that way," Cindy replied softly. "Merlin had to stay behind to protect the camp if the empress decided to attack it. He wanted to come along with me but did not want to leave New Avalon without any form of magic defense."

"New Avalon lasted this long without him."

"Against the trolls, yes, but we aren't fighting them anymore."

Ruslan sniffed. "Did you talk to him this morning?"

Cindy shook her head. It had been the first morning since leaving New Avalon that she had not spoken with Merlin through the flames. Something felt amiss, out of place, and wrong. She wondered if some terrible event had happened back in New Avalon but had no way of knowing. She had tried to contact him through the flames of a lit match but she was yet unable to initiate the conversation of the fire-speech. She would have to wait for him to contact her, however long that may be.