Disclaimer: The Old Kingdom (c) Garth Nix
"Concentrate, you stupid girl!" Her father yelled. Isade trembled, sweating beneath her clothing and armour.
"Sorry, father."
It was cool here, and beautiful. The island had one fairly pretty tree, but a crude makeshift tent propped against it, obscuring the most aesthetic feature of the strip of land. One might say the river was beautiful, if one appreciated beauty in bleak, dangerous things. Its swift flowing currents would drown or crush you instantly. One could suggest the beauty of nature, how it linked everything together, but again, several figures looked out-of place here, corroding the idea.
A older man stood next to a younger woman in the sole patch of land that had any kind of foliage- short, stunted berry bushes, purple smears from over-ripe berries on their faces and hands. They both wore stiff battle dresses, with thin cotton overcoats emblazoned with the Wallmaker's trowel in silver. Brown leather jackets protected them from most of the waterfall's spray, and the jackets bugled strangely in places. Every inch of this strange garment housed a crammed pocket, and the Wallmaker and his daughter wore pouches across their chests- containing trowels, miniature brushes, quills, ink, diaries, herbs and properties from thyme to silver and gold, bone, rowan, elder, sharp woodcut knives, half-finished daggers, even coal and flint. The woman had her eyes squeezed shut, and her fists were balled tight at her sides. She'd performed spells of this magnitude before, but it required concentration. The Wallmaker had taught her much- but she had much to learn still. She looked almost like him- her pallid skin, although, was more due to her (mis)adventures in death, and her mousy brown hair was only laced with white. His eyes, an almost opaque grey, were her exact pigment. At seventeen, she was too tall, taking after both her father and mother.
Isade closed her mind, and focused solely on the never-ending flow of Charter. Her father and her had planned the string of marks needed in the shorthand of her Charter diary. Over the past weeks of his absence, she finally brought forth an appropriate master marks to complete the spell. This spell needed to be spread over the whole island. The power required was too great for a normal seventeen-year-old, and almost beyond Isade. The Wallmaker would aid her, in case anything went wrong.
The Charter blazed to life in her mind. Relax, Isade. Her heart sped up, she wasn't ready. She couldn't do this. She would fail the Wallmaker.
"Isade, focus!"
Slowly, she eased the first string of marks from the golden flow- they came slowly, and had to be teased out of her mind. The next one, she fumbled. It ripped through her mind, and flung itself towards the others. Only Isade's effort kept it under control, forgetting everything she read in her father's texts.
Quarter of an hour later, and she was still struggling with the spell. She'd managed a shallow pool of charter, which flared brightly against the dirt and bushes.
Now was the time for the first master mark.
"Steady, girl," her father cautioned. "You're doing well."
The Abhorsen-in-waiting crept out of the tent, took one glance at Isade's mother, who was using charter marks to stick to the river bottom, smoothing the stepping stones and cross-hatching them for safe grip across the turbulent water, another at Isade and the Wallmaker calling a powerful ward, and groaned. "Seriously?" He demanded. "Can we pick another island? One… away from the waterfall… Please?" he threw a vicious glance at the island, and stormed back into the tent.
"Emeritus!" Isade gasped. Making sure she had hold of the charter buzzing around her like angry bees, she started after him. "Wait, Emeritus! Wait!" She cried desperately.
"ISADE!" The Wallmaker bellowed. "Leave the Abhorsen-in-training alone! You just about finished the first procession, girl! Do want to ruin all the work you've done by comforting a boy who can manage by himself? No! Get on with it! I'll tell you what, if you finish this master mark and another after this, you can go. Hurry up! You're losing the spell!"
With a picture of Emeritus's face, which about now would be dour, Isade could easily complete the first master mark. It rocked through her body, and was followed by another, and another. The spell seemed to stream through her fingers without conscious thought- and they were the right marks. More and more followed, faster and faster. The first that was not supposed to be in the spell crept through with the others, but Isade didn't notice. The whipped through her, burning her, so fast she couldn't distinguish the marks. It was all golden light, pain, and dizziness. She couldn't control the flow, and master mark after master mark blazed through her head, she was steadily losing energy. She could hear her father shouting… but didn't understand what he was saying. The spell had a life of its own in front of her, forming the complete ward. Adrenaline shot through her- she was going to live, and complete the entire spell! The shock gave her the concentration needed as the last few marks slipped from the stream, and into the charter that crackled and blazed before her eyes. As her heart stopped its racing, disbelief took its place. She couldn't of done this…
"Excellent, Isade," the Wallmaker said, now expertly handling the ward, "it usually feels odd for the first time. With practise, spells like that can come as easy to your mind as Emeritus. It's our family trait, to handle spells usually beyond a human's power, though, your first quarter hour needs work…" Emeritus. With a jolt, she realised she'd forgotten all about him. Emeritus! Her mind and heart leapt, and her tiredness and pride went away. How long was it from when he ran away?
"… I was expecting you only to partially complete the spell, it is unusual for a Wallmaker-in-training at your age to complete…"
"Father!"
"-Wha-what?" He sounded annoyed to be interrupted mid-speech.
"Is Emeritus still in the tent? How long has it been?"
The Wallmaker quickly caught on. "About… an hour, or two, and yes. I haven't seen him leave, so…"
Isade had already left, tearing through the bushes, pelting towards the tent.
Girls, the Wallmaker thought. Never knew when to listen to important lectures, or think about their infatuations.
AN: A series set over 1,000 years before the trilogy started. I hope you like it ^^