by John Benson
The Demon was without fixed form, a boiling mass of smoke and flame, overlaid with stink of sulphur. "Heed me, child," the Demon said, "for thou shalt never know the full meaning of thy womanhood, lest thou learn as if a slave."
The damn thing was cursing her. But why? "I have shown you only courtesy," she said, "and you give me back curses?"
"I do only as I must," the Demon said. "As thou wilt." It leapt into the realm of Air and expanded hugely and became more tenuous until the last whiff of it was blown away, leaving behind bitter echoes in her young memory. Womanhood had been something Claudine had been more than willing to put off, while she made acquaintance with her Fire. Now suddenly she was being told it would come to her only at too high a price. She loved her freedom. Would she be willing to forgo it? Damn. So much for trying to make friends with Demons.
The witch moved slowly, more out of some inner calm than from infirmity, but her slow deliberation always made Claudine want to jump right up and help. The witch poured them tea, strange, fragrant, astringent, the infusion of boiling water on a lifetime of the lore of herbs. "You are anxious," the witch said. "More so than usual."
She was. Claudine had spent ten years becoming. Ten years with the cold old Gondarvin Windmaster just to learn to control that thing within her, and here she was. An Adept of Fire. It was supposed to be good for something. There were supposed to be great tasks. Now suddenly, this. "I've been cursed by a Demon," she said. "It has put some blockage on my path to womanhood, so I can only attain it if I experience life as if I were a slave. At least the damned thing didn't say I had to become a slave, exactly."
The old witch settled herself down near the hearth. Within it, fire sprites played, attracted by the presence of Claudine. "So what have you decided?" the witch asked.
Perceptive old girl. Claudine had wanted a sounding board, but in reality, she'd already made her mind up. "Study a bit more magic," she said, "but now with different motives."
"More tea?" the witch asked.
Out of courtesy, Claudine restrained the urge to jump up and serve. "Yes, please," she said.
The old witch smiled.
The Earthlord's dwelling was made of stone, and set into the side of a hill. Claudine dithered, knowing what she'd decided, but in less than her usual hurry to get there. The idea of skipping the womanhood problem for a time to just fulfill her destiny as an Adept was tempting. But those who forget their humanity are either ambushed by it, or live on to become monsters. Damn. It wouldn't be real slavery, exactly. It would just feel that way. Damn.
Before she could get up the nerve to knock, the Mage came out of his house. A short, strong man, somewhat younger than she'd expected. He seemed no more than thirty, but then the Powers age slowly. "Why, hello," he said. "I knew someone was here. I was half expecting the Firelord I've been feeling for the last few days, but the sense of him is gone now, and here you are. In need of some advice, my dear? A mine, a dam, a berm, a fortification? Or merely something of Earthly delights?"
He looked at her in the way men do who want a woman, and that made Claudine uncomfortable. But after all, it was why she was here. "I was wondering if you'd like an Apprentice," she said. "I'd like you to teach me Earth."
The Earthmage frowned. "I smell Fire," he said. "I suppose I could supervise you while you pursue that. But I warn you it's not my specialty, by any means."
Probably closer to Water than he was to Fire. Ick. Claudine and kittycats hate getting wet. "There is a bit of Fire in me, yes," she said. "But teach me Earth. For me, there is a time for Earth, and a time for Fire. Right now, it's my time for Earth."
The Mage grinned. There was a hint of leer in it. "My efforts do not come cheap," he said, "and since my discipline is good at finding treasure, I have no need of cash, if you get my drift."
Yes. It would not come cheap. "So long as you will teach me, I will obey you in all things, if you get my drift," she said. The promise made her feel weak, and she struggled not to tremble.
"I will punish you to improve your motivation," he said.
Oh dear. Old Gondarvin had never laid a hand on her, in all the years she had spent with him, only biting sarcasm that stung like a lash when she was inattentive. But this man's style fitted her intent, really. She would be bedded and thrashed, both. As if she were a slave, indeed. "I understand," she said. Gulp. "And I accept."
"Then come in," he said. He turned and Claudine followed, feeling young, and shy, and not the least bit brave.
The Earthlord lived very simply, for one adroit at finding treasure. His tables were made of rough-hewn wood, his benches were of stone. A fire burned quietly in his hearth, and Claudine noticed approvingly that he understood Fire well enough to have crafted a chimney that drew properly. He seated her and handed her a rock. Smooth. Heavy. A big old rock.
"Let's see what you can sense," he said.
She came alert, and studied in the Otherly way. Ah yes. Even stone has a story. A history. "The memory of Fire," she said.
"Igneous," the Earthlord said. "It had its genesis in Fire. That really is your affinity, isn't it?"
Claudine laid down the rock. "Nevertheless. I'm where I need to be right now."
He handed her another rock. A slab of something this time, rather than a hunk like the igneous. She tried to find the essence hiding in its depths, and felt only death. "Dead," she said.
"Sedimentary. Made up of the bodies of living things, Simple limestone. If you look carefully, you can see fossils. Earth has a lot of the history of life and death in it, my dear. Earth supports life. So do Air and Water. Only Fire does not, you know."
"Tell me that in winter," Claudine said. The Earthlord pursed his lips. She shouldn't goad him. He'd just take a mind to whip her if she wasn't careful. But sometimes it was just hard for her to watch her tongue.
She sent her spirit into the ground, past humus and clay and sand and into rock, where history sat silently in twisted layers. If she went down far enough, Fire beckoned. Fire which came close sometimes to the surface of the earth, yielding hot springs and geysers and fumaroles, and further off, a large old volcano. There on its lower slopes, she found an old Firelord she had not known existed, his complex mind as inscrutable as that of any Demon. She came back up into herself, and for a time, the world out in the air seemed strange. Fire played in the Earthmage's hearth, and she was comforted.
"The old man sits halfway up a mountain," she said, "and I don't know why."
"Yes, that Firelord," the Earthmage said. "I fear he's up to no good. I was hoping old Juliana might help me find out what he's up to, but I haven't sensed her for quite some time. Must have really meant it when she said she was going to retire."
"Dead," Claudine said. "Ten years dead. She held on to life long enough to discover her successor and then she passed."
"Oh. Well. Shows I don't spend much effort staying in touch, I guess. Well what should I say, girl? On the one hand your mental reach is great for one just starting, but still you're drawn too much to Fire. I'll just have to cure that. Come with me. We're going to take a walk."
Now what? She could usually rely on her instincts to help her when things got sticky, but they weren't going to help her any now. They were telling her to run away.
A pleasant walk through piney woods, where squirrels solved the secret of stealing pine nuts, and smaller rodents waited down below, content with leavings. They flushed a doe who crashed off noisily, mistaking them for danger. An opening held a little waterfall which cascaded down into a large deep pool, quite pretty from far enough away to avoid the spray. The area was strewn with boulders. She hoped that's what he cared for. The stones.
"All right, girl," he said. "Shed your dress and jump in and sink to the bottom for a while, and pretend to be a stone. I'll let you know when to come up."
"Claudine," she said. "I have a name."
"Your name is girl. Mine is 'my Lord' or 'Master,' as you choose. Now get your dress off and do as I say."
"But. But we kittycats don't like the water."
"There's cats and cats, girl. Tigers swim rivers. You'll be a different sort of cat before I'm done with you. Now. Do I have to cut a switch?"
She took her dress off without much regret. After all, he was going to see her naked, anyway. But getting submerged was different. She hated the thought. Damn. Would he always know just how to test her so she'd be at her worst? She sank into the water. Cold. Deep. Water sprites came. They hated her. They always tried to drown her. Her head went under. The sprites tangled in her hair. Held her down. She panicked and rose up and out onto dry land. "I can't," she said. "It's too hard."
Oh! He had cut a switch, and now he was peeling it. "You've had some training somewhere," he said. "Enough so you should be able to do this trick. You've just got a failure of concentration, brought about by a failure of motivation. Well, motivating you will not be hard, and to be honest, I'll enjoy it."
Oh no, oh no. "Master, please don't beat me." The slave's plaintive cry. Talk about authenticity. But the mean man was unmoved.
"Bend over and grab your ankles," he said.
She did as she was told, and now the switch was biting into the wet skin of her rump. Pain was shocking in its intensity, and all her stubbornness as an Adept was needed to keep the Fire at bay, so she did not defend herself. It hurt. It hurt! "Please," she begged. "I'll try and do better."
He stopped. "All right then," he said. "By all means, go and do it right. If you don't, well, we can start again right where I left off."
Being whipped had done something strange to her perceptions. Her nakedness had seemed before just a fact, not particularly fraught. Now suddenly after being beaten, the fact that she was female and he was male, and that she was naked was deeply sexual. She was half afraid he might take time out to rape her, half disappointed that he did not. Claudine had known about sex for a very long time, but had never really thought of it except in the indistinct context of 'someday.' Her stinging buttocks were somehow thrusting it deep into the Now. She moved close to him, wishing she knew something about seduction. He pointed to the depths of the pool, a Mage not easily dissuaded.
She thought about it this time. Slow her metabolism, to reduce the need for air. Take deep breaths, to saturate the tissues. Go under. Do the damn job. Water sprites came. I am a stone, she thought. The triumph of water over stone takes geologic time. A stone does not see water sprites, or if it does, it does not care. The sprites lost interest and went away. Slowly, languidly, as if it hardly mattered, she sent her Othersense up above the ripples to watch her Master.
The Earthlord smiled.
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