Venom's Taste - Lisa Smedman [89]
“I did it!” Arvin exclaimed. Then he noticed the expression on Tanju’s face. The psion was nodding, as if in encouragement, but there was a wary look in his eyes.
“You learn remarkably fast,” Tanju said, “quicker than any pupil I’ve ever taught-quicker than you should. Under the guidance of the right master…”
Arvin waited for Tanju to finish the thought, but instead the psion turned and picked up the trollgut rope. “That’s enough for now,” he said, undoing the buckles of his backpack. “I must be going. What is the rope’s command word?”
Arvin frowned. “But we only just-”
Tanju stared at him, the rope in his hands. “The command word?”
The lesson was definitely over. Sighing, Arvin told him.
As Tanju tucked the coil of rope into his pack, Arvin saw a glint inside the pack-a shiny surface that reflected the sunlight. It was the three finger-length quartz crystals-one a smoky gray, one clear, and one rosy-bound together with silver wire.
“That’s a crystal capacitor, isn’t it?” Arvin asked, pulling the words from Zelia’s memories. As he stared at it, his upper lip lifted disdainfully, baring his teeth. The human who had tutored Zelia had used one of those to augment his abilities. It had allowed him to continue manifesting psionic powers long after his own internal supply of energy was depleted. Over time, the crystal capacitor had become a crutch-one that gave the tutor a false sense of security. It had been easy, once that crutch was kicked away, to defeat him…
Arvin shook his head to clear it and realized that Tanju was staring warily at him.
“My mother carried a crystal with her,” Arvin said. “Until… recently I didn’t realize what it was.”
“A single crystal?” Tanju asked, buckling his pack shut.
Arvin nodded, remembering. “An amethyst.”
“How large was it?”
Arvin held his hands about three palm’s widths apart.
“A dorje, then,” Tanju said. “And not a power stone.”
“What’s the difference?”
Tanju rebuckled his backpack. “A dorje is like a wizard’s wand. It contains a single power, and enough psionic energy to manifest that power up to fifty times. A power stone can contain more than one power-I’ve heard of some with as many as six inside them. But each power can be manifested only once.”
“So a dorje is more valuable,” Arvin guessed.
Tanju shook his head. “A dorje can hold only low-level powers,” he said. “A power stone, on the other hand, can hold powers that could normally be manifested only by a master psion. Using a power stone, however, is dangerous. If the psion makes the slightest error during the manifestation, the result can be brain burn.”
Arvin nodded. Whatever brain burn was, it didn’t sound healthy.
“A power stone is smaller than a dorje, then?” he asked.
“Typically, about half the length of a finger,” Tanju answered, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.
Arvin thought of the lapis lazuli in his pocket, wondering if it might be a variant on a power stone. If so, perhaps it would allow him to do more than merely manifest a sending. “How do you know what powers a stone contains?”
“The psion must hail it,” Tanju said. “He must send his mind deep into the stone, address it by name, and link with it. Only then will the stone give up its secrets.”
“But how-”
Tanju held up a hand. “I’ve taught you enough for this morning,” he said. “And I must go. I’ve already tarried here too long. Look me up again, when I get back to Hlondeth, and I’ll tell you more.” He paused. “Unless…”
“Yes,” Arvin said softly. “The mind seed.”
“Tymora’s luck to you,” Tanju said. “I hope you find a cleric who can help.”
26 Kythorn, Highsun
Arvin stood and watched the psion and the militiaman trudge up the road, wondering if he’d see Tanju again. The pilgrims had departed from the quarry at dawn; Arvin would be the last to leave the crude stone huts baking under the intense, midday sun. Stepping back inside the hut in which he’d spent the night, Arvin