Chapter 36: The Golden Line

The next day, an amused Kael watched James come down the stairs. “You seem to have more energy when you sleep with someone.”

“Yesterday took a lot out of me. Moving the power stream from one storage location to another was hard. And it was all mental, so I couldn’t get my normal release after a long set of exercises. And getting hit in the face by rocks did not help either.”

“Yes, it did. You learned quicker that way,” Kael said. “Now eat, we’re burning daylight.”

A few minutes later, they headed to the field. The morning was cool, the sky a pale wash of blue above the tree line, dew still silvering the grass. James matched Kael’s steady pace, feeling the familiar hum of the ley lines beneath the packed dirt road—red threads pulsing faintly, green ones deeper and slower, and somewhere far below, the molten river of gold that he’d been warned about but not yet touched. “Am I ready for the Gold line?” James asked.

“You will need all your confidence. You can handle the magic if you stay focused.”

When they reached the field, Kael affixed four of Bartholomew’s storage devices, one to each limb. The dark wood and copper bands were warm from Kael’s satchel, the tiny glyphs etched into their surfaces catching the early light. James flexed his arms and legs, adjusting to the weight—negligible individually, but collectively a reminder that he was about to attempt something far beyond yesterday’s exercises. “These are empty. Go to a Green line and fill them. Take your time and stay safe. Once you have mastered this, we will try for speed.”

Taking a deep breath, James walked to the closest Green lay line and thought of the glyph to start the power flow. Instantly, the power came in through both feet. The surge was familiar now—hot and insistent, a torrent that wanted to flood his sternum and pool there like water finding the lowest point. Concentrating, he directed the flow to the closest storage device, the one strapped to his left calf. He could feel the copper bands warming against his skin as magic poured into the reservoir. As they started to fill, he split each flow so that it would fill a second device, the one on his arm. The sensation was like holding two separate conversations at once—each demanding its own thread of attention, each punishing any lapse with a spike of heat behind his ribs. Several times, he had to suspend the flow as his internal temperature was rising at an alarming rate. Sweat broke across his forehead and traced lines down his jaw, dripping from his chin into the trampled grass. Over the course of several hours, James was successful in filling the devices.

“Now, fill your sternum,” Kael commanded, “but slowly.”

James cautiously directed the flow to his chest and quickly felt the warmth spreading behind his ribs. Using the same throttling mechanism he used with the devices, James was able to top off his body’s magic reservoir. The fullness settled into him like a deep breath held at the peak of inhalation—not uncomfortable, but dense, pressing outward against his bones.

“Excellent. Now that you have power, we will work on the other shields. Step off the Green line and stop tapping into any of the lay lines.”

James briskly walked to the center of the field and waited for instructions. The grass here was shorter, cropped by deer or rabbits, and the earth beneath it was hard-packed and dry. He stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, arms loose at his sides, and tried to quiet the low hum of magic thrumming through his body.

Kael approached and handed him a parchment. The ink was darker than the previous spell documents, the glyphs drawn with heavier strokes, as if the scribe had pressed harder—or as if the symbols themselves carried more weight. “This is the burn shield spell. This one takes the most power to start and maintain. Since all of your magic is at the highest level of storage, you have enough for the spell.”

James took the parchment and studied the spell. The first several lines were identical to the freeze shield—the same foundational structure, the same initial glyph sequence. Then, halfway down the page, the spell diverged sharply into unfamiliar territory. “This is the same as the other spell until this point,” he said, pointing to the page.

“Good observation. They use the same foundation. That is also a weakness. If you can undermine the foundation, then the shields can be easily pierced. Once you are ready, I will give you the activating glyph. You will need to stay in the center of the field until you have complete control. We cannot risk a fire.” Kael instructed.

James finished memorizing the spell, committing each line to the Spell of Memory with the satisfying click of perfect recall, and looked to Kael for the glyph. Once Kael showed him the glyph—a sharp, angular pattern that looked like a flame rendered in geometry—James raised the shield. The air around him shimmered with a faint amber tint, different from the freeze shield’s near-invisibility. Kael stepped up to him and pushed a branch into the shield. The branch immediately caught fire and quickly turned to ash. The flame was intense and brief, consuming the wood in seconds, leaving nothing but a wisp of gray smoke and a few flakes of charcoal drifting to the ground.

“Now look at the power levels,” Kael demanded.

James was dismayed to see that two of the devices were already drained. The copper bands on his left arm and right leg had gone cold, the hum of stored magic silent. “Did I do the spell wrong? The freeze spell took little energy compared to this one.”

“No, I monitored your every step. You followed the spell perfectly. But the burning takes a lot of power. Now back to practice. Set up the burning shield, but this time tap the Red or Green lay line to refill the devices.”

James walked to the closest line, which was Red, and started drawing the power into his body. The Red line’s flow was gentle compared to the Green—a warm trickle rather than a torrent—but steady and manageable. Once he felt the reservoirs fill, he activated the shield.

“Switch to the freeze shield,” Kael instructed.

James collapsed the burn shield and then activated the freeze shield.

Kael stomped over, his boots crunching in the dry grass, his expression thunderous. “Turn off all of your shields. In a real battle, you would be dead.”

“What do you mean? I did what you asked,” James said.

“The proper way to change shield type is to bring up the second shield inside the first shield. Then drop the first shield. Never go without a shield.”

“I did not know you could do that, or for that matter, how to do that.”

“Start filling your storage and call up the freeze shield spell. Look at the last paragraph.”

James pulled up the freeze shield spell from the Spell of Memory and read the final paragraph—text he’d memorized but not fully absorbed. The instructions were precise: a nested activation sequence that allowed a second shield to form within the boundary of the first, like a smaller bubble inflating inside a larger one. Only once the inner shield was stable could the outer one be safely collapsed.

“Gods, it specifies the nesting priority for each shield. That implies that different types of shields can coexist. Why wouldn’t I want them all on?”

“Too much defensive magic prevents many offensive strikes from being used. Some of these spells require openings in the shield to be used. And the power required to maintain multiple shields is immense. Before we start back on shields, I need to teach you to draw from the lay lines without being on top of them. Here is the spell that enhances the basic power draw. You have thirty seconds to learn it and start drawing from the Red line over there.”

“How do I do that?” James asked.

“Every night, you need to review the spells until they are second nature. When I give you a parchment, use the Spell Of Memory to absorb the information. Once it is in the spell, you can access it immediately. So for a simple two-paragraph spell like this one, thirty seconds is more than enough. Now, try it.”

James activated the spell and reached out with his hand toward the Red line. To his amazement, a steady stream of power flowed to him, which he distributed to the storage areas in his body and attached devices. The distance was perhaps thirty feet, and the connection felt thinner than standing directly on the line—a thread rather than a cord—but it held, and the power was real. When they were full, he turned to the mage. “It worked, I am topped off.”

“What does ‘topped off’ mean?” Kael asked.

“Sorry, it is a phrase from my youth. It means that there is no room for more. Like a can of milk after milking.”