Hunted Sorcery (Jon Oklar Book 2) B.T. Narro (book reader for pc .TXT) 📖

“Get on with it!” Reuben urged me.

“I almost have it,” I said. “One moment.”

“It’s getting dark,” Eden commented. “We’re not going to be able to see whatever happens for much longer.”

It took me just a short while after that, but then I was ready.

“All right, I think I can do it now. Stand back.”

Everyone scooted away.

I casted the spell with as much force as I could.

A sorcerer could always tell when his spell came to fruition. There was a click in my mind, the notes blending in harmony like hearing a beautiful sound, only this was silent. The drain on my stamina was always more intense for new spells, and this was no exception. I could feel the weight on my mind like I was trying to keep a rock steady from an awkward position.

I didn’t see anything as I casted lG, G, and uG—no name for the spell yet. I pushed harder.

“Are you doing it or trying to pass gas?” Michael asked. “I can’t tell.”

“Shut up,” I groaned as I strained harder. “I’m casting it, dammit.”

“Are you sure?” Michael asked.

“Keep going Jon,” Leon said. “Everyone get back.”

“Wait, what are you—?”

“Keep it up!” he yelled as he tossed his boot at my face.

I didn’t know why I trusted him. Perhaps I was just too slow to react while I was focusing. Either way, I kept up the spell and did not duck.

CHAPTER TWENTY

I was on the ground, my hand covering the imprint of Leon’s boot on my forehead. “Why the hell did you do that?” I yelled at him.

“You couldn’t see it from your angle,” he said as he retrieved his boot. “It was going to work if you just held it stronger. Or maybe if I didn’t throw it as hard.”

“Again, why the hell did you do that?”

Michael pulled me up. He was still chuckling a bit.

“We needed to test it,” Leon answered. “Hold still.” He slapped his hand on my forehead and healed my pain away. “All right, now one more time.”

“Did you see anything?” I asked Michael.

“I saw you get hit in the face with his boot. That’s about it.”

“Maybe I only felt your spell and imagined I saw it,” Leon said. “But I know your mana changed when the boot came in contact with it. I felt it.”

“I couldn’t hold it much stronger than that. If you insist on throwing your boot, at least toss it underhand.”

“Fine. Go again. There isn’t much daylight left.”

I lifted my hand as I split my mana three ways.

“This time,” Leon instructed, “try to catch the boot with your mana. Go.”

It was a hint, or more than just a hint perhaps, but he hadn’t given me time to think about it as he motioned like he would toss the boot.

I casted the spell, three octaves of G. I could feel the mana as a cluster in front of me. It wanted to do something but I couldn’t tell what.

Leon tossed his boot. I directed the mana I was holding to the path in front of it, instructing the mana to catch the boot.

It collided with my mana, and I felt the weight of the item threatening to pull my mana apart. It wasn’t that it was so heavy, but the tension was high, as if I was trying to catch a small pebble with a thin sheet of parchment. I felt that I had to bend my mana in the same way I would the parchment so it wouldn’t rupture.

Amazingly, the mana seemed to bend around the boot on its own. The energy that was connected to my mind seemed to truly come alive. It all happened in a blink, my mana enclosing around the boot and suspending it in the air.

It only lasted a breath before the boot tore through my mana and fell to the ground, but I had seen it. I had felt it. I had suspended Leon’s boot in the air.

“Oh my god,” I said as I started to realize the implication. “It grabbed the boot without me even telling it to.”

“What do you mean by grabbed, exactly?” Leon was hinting at something.

“I mean it moved around the boot to enclose it.”

“Like the way a baby might instinctively grab a finger?” he asked. “Or more like the way a flytrap might close around a fly? What did it feel like?”

“Like a flytrap,” I answered. “Like it wanted to trap the boot.”

“It probably did,” Leon said.

“G for grab and D for density; that’s convenient,” Charlie commented.

“It’s almost as if the sorcerers who designed the language knew what they were doing,” Leon said sarcastically.

“Wait, I think they did know,” Charlie said.

“That’s what I’m saying, Charlie,” Leon explained.

“Oh.”

“I was right in my prediction,” Leon said. “Which I’m sure you remember, Charlie.”

“But it still doesn’t make sense. Why don’t the erto spells, which all have a variation of G, grab anything?”

“Because one G isn’t enough to tell the mana to grab. But remember what happens if you try to cast, say, Water with only C and E. The spell has no consistency. It’s impossible to hold the water together.”

Leon raised both arms out from his chest. A large globe of water grew out of nothing but quickly spread apart from itself, small globules floating away from each other.

“See?” Leon said as he let the water drop. “Even I can’t hold it together without G. That single note tells the mana to grab itself, at least a little.” Leon raised an eyebrow at me. “So this is how—”

“Dark mages are able to grab people,” I finished the sentence for him.

“Exactly. They must add at least uG to their spell of Dislodge. Some might even be adding a second octave, Middle G, most likely, because it’s not normally part of the spell.”

“But uG is a very high frequency,” I said. “Wouldn’t it be unlikely for more than one sorcerer to reach it? The large dark mage who attacked me the other day also grabbed me.”

“Didn’t I