Balance - Book 2 by Marc Dickason

  *****

  …imprint.

  Three hours later I had learned the flame from fingertips spell. Benny turned out to be an exceptional teacher, better in many ways then those found at the Academy. I managed results even with a burning coal now living under the bandage on my hand.

  The spell itself, although in the same ballpark as other Reality Manipulation alterations, turned out to be easier to grasp. At least for me.

  “What creates fire?” Benny had asked, “Heat, air and fuel, as everyone knows. And you’ll find an abundance of these ingredients just about everywhere. Fire, as it turns out, is a potential in almost all circumstances.”

  “Alright.”

  “Keep listening. When you press your fingertips together,” he had pinched his fingers in demonstration, “you are compressing air between them. This air has the potential to combust, so all you need to do is ignite it with a spark of heat. This can be done with Spirit. Just a tiny amount is needed, not too much or the flame will be suffocated. Then, when the flame has been lit, you need only keep feeding it tiny amounts of Spirit. This will keep the new air that moves in to replace the expended air combusting.”

  “Benny.”

  “What?”

  “That sounds…pretty unfeasible. Are you sure that’s how it works?”

  “Yes it is.”

  “I really don’t think it is. Fire doesn’t work like that. It needs gas or…”

  “Jet, you’re missing the point. Listen to me. It is possible. As possible as electronic nonsense and plastic parts creating a television, bits of metal, circuits and other shit creating a super computer, or a caterpillar turning into a butterfly.”

  “That’s not the same thing.”

  “Jet,” he had muttered, sighing in exasperation, “It is the same thing, that’s the point of this spell. You have no idea how a computer works but accept it, because it does work and it’s a great way to get twenty four hour access to porn. Now look here…” From between his fingers the flame had ignited. “It works. You can see it works. Draw your own conclusions.”

  “But…” Little wheels had clanked over in my head. “Okay. I see what you’re saying.”

  “Between your fingers you are compressing air. All that is needed to ignite that air is your willingness to believe it is possible. And viola. The flame is not the spell, Jet. It’s what’s happening in your head.”

  I had closed my eyes, squeezed my fingers together, and lo and behold upon releasing a tiny snap of Spirit a flame had burned.

  Presently, as I sat with a steady flame burning between my fingers, I marvelled at the flexibility of my own gullible mind.

  “Visualise, reach out and imprint,” I muttered to myself.

  “Well done,” Benny said with a grin, “Not so hard when you get the idea, right? And it’s a very versatile magic. A lot that can be done with it, if you have the right conviction. Not easy though, when you start getting to the more complex elements.”

  “I can imagine.” I gazed into the flame. “That’s another obstacle hurdled. Thank you.”

  “No sweat, buddy. I’ll add it to your tab.”

  He paused, puffing on another cigarette. “So, where were you today?”

  I parted my fingers and the flame vanished. “Little Dreamers.”

  “The white wall. Found it?”

  “Yes.”

  “What else did you find?”

  “Evidence my grandmother has been there. Solid evidence.”

  “And you came across this evidence how?”

  “The teacher. Trisha.”

  “And?”

  “I’ll investigate the place further. When I’m an official Enforcer.”

  “Of course.’ He cleared his throat and sighed. “Fine. Here’s a question for you, Jet. Something to think about. What are you going to do when you find your mother and grandmother? What are you going to do after that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Simple question. What will you do after you’ve found them? Got plans? Any ideas?”

  My brain ground to a halt. I tried to imagine the day after bringing Fran and Liza Clarence to justice. But there was nothing. “I don’t know.”

  “I see. And you’re worried about me and my mental state? Interesting.”

  With that he stood and headed to his room.