In the middle of a mosaic floor was a round pool with a low rim. Above it sticking down through the ceiling was a tiled cylinder like a village well turned upside-down.
“Its mouth is opened to the heavens above. Look for yourself,” he said, indicating the black pool on the ground in front of them, and when Hamar stood at the rim he could see clouds reflected down on the water’s surface, and then watched them tearing apart to reveal star patterns like in a night sky.
“The stargazers watched every day for shooting stars across these waters. They were hoping for a comet, but still,… ” the man stirred the water to ruin the dots and befuddle Hamar’s interested gaze.
He turned to the boy, “Down in the catacombs our oracles inhaled vapours and reeled off poetic images about you. Other of their lot kept seeing significant vein trees in fresh pig livers, – messy process – all trying to know of you first. Whether they were very accurate or not,” he huffed to himself, “they were quick to see their answer when the one… ” he peered into Hamar’s face, ” ‘Who-is-like-Baltshazar,’ arrived.”
Hamar didn’t like the man’s smile. Apparently, dealers in high forbidden things didn’t readily welcome a novice in their midst, – one who nevertheless out-ranked them.
But that made some sense to him. It could be dangerous to grant secret powers to a beginner, a stranger. Great shifts in importance among them would likely be involved, probably with a clash of prides, – that was so even among beggar families when new ones moved into Al Musar. He told himself not to upset the man. They went back out through the portal and the Adept smoothed it shut with more hand moves.
“Aktiarh, the chief Red Priest, is merely the Master’s emissary, his chief teacher over all teachers. Only on the rarest of occasions will the highest ranking majicians ever get to speak directly with the Master himself, – and the new students,” he bent toward Hamar’s tanned face, “never,” and he straightened up with a crooked smile.
They strode on. “Your tutors will see to it you’re paced,” he said over his shoulder. “Transforming takes time. After all,” he said, slowing to take in the boy’s discomfort, “you are not yet on our side!
– No boy born of ordinary people submits well. Not totally.” Satisfied at the impact of that, he added, “At first, that is!
You thought yourself powerful in that fight yesterday?” he fully turned to Hamar. “Ha! It was the Master himself who came into you when the Priest and the men invoked him! Oh yes! HE ENTERED YOU IN HIS ASTRAL FORM.”
His eyes lifted off the boy for a brief moment in remembering the incredible power that had been in the room, and then he humbled himself, recalling the outcome of the fight. He lowered his head more respectfully at Hamar and wisely changed his tone back to that of servant guide, “He slips from his body at will. You and the Priest both got him, he simply channelled himself into you to carry out the performance.
You stood it, was the point. That alone sealed your fate!” He paused, silent. Then he finished his task with, “You have had your start, Hamar Mi-sha Baltshazar, – mystes. It is up to you what follows. And up to him.”
With that, he turned on his heel to march past Hamar and lead him back the way they’d come.
Back at the door to Hamar’s chambers the Adept said,”You’ll see more tomorrow, you must not be overtaxed. Rest for today. Meals are arranged. From now on the Master will keep his force back and stay invisible, you won’t see him until your apprenticeship to him years from now, – only feel his focus again, no doubt;” he smiled with a returning hint of glee, “unfortunately.” His task done, he motioned Hamar back inside the chamber and made the door lock shut.
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