Author's Note: Wow. I can honestly say that I did not expect this many reviews for this fic. You guys are incredible. Hope you enjoy the next chapter.
Chapter Two: The First Lesson
"Now," Balthazar said, pushing himself up from the floor, "your first lesson is in control."
Holding out a hand, he pulled Dave to his feet and led him to the center of the shop. With a wave of his hand, he cleared the floor of debris until a circle about ten feet across was bare. He twitched his fingers and Dave watched in amazement as glittering streams of light left his fingers to trace a path through the air before coming to rest on the hardwood floor.
The light blazed in a series of intricate patterns before fading into the floor, burning the patterns into the wood with a thin trail of smoke. When the smoke cleared, there was a circle traced on the floor, an intricate figure with whorls and lines emblazoned within.
"Step inside the circle," Balthazar instructed, and Dave did so, nervously. "Now, do you see those books just outside the circle?"
"Yeah," Dave replied.
"Hold out your hand," Balthazar told him, "the one with the dragon ring, and pick the books up."
"Without actually touching them, right?" Dave asked, knowing that it couldn't possibly be that easy.
"Without touching them," Balthazar confirmed. "See your hand extending beyond your body, and then pick the books up."
Dave frowned in concentration, extending his arm and focusing on the books. A now-familiar pressure started building behind his eyes, and he tried to imagine a hand reaching out and grabbing the books from where they were sitting on the floor. When nothing happened, he focused harder, but all that did was shove the books across the floor, further away from him.
"I can't do this," he groaned, letting his hand fall back to his side.
"Yes, you can," Balthazar said, calmly, from where he was leaning against the wall watching him. "Just empty your mind and concentrate."
"Empty my mind," Dave repeated, dubiously.
But, he turned his attention back to the books, holding out his hand and concentrating, again. He tried to empty his mind, thinking of absolutely nothing, but that didn't work. The more he tried to think of nothing, the more thoughts clamored for his immediate attention. He was supposed to be focused, and instead all he could think about was the math test next Tuesday.
"Empty your mind," Balthazar repeated, as if he could read Dave's mind.
Which he very well might, for all Dave knew.
"If you can't empty your mind of all thoughts," Balthazar continued, "pick one, simple thing, and focus on it. Just on that one thing. And then pick the books up."
Blowing out a frustrated breath, Dave closed his eyes as he tried to pick something to focus on. His dragon ring immediately leapt to mind, and he went with the thought, focusing on the cool metal of the ring around his finger. The image of the dragon ring filled his mind until he couldn't see anything else, just the dragon's golden eyes burning into him. And it was silly, he knew, but he thought that he could feel the dragon watching him.
'Pick up the books,' a deep voice seemed to echo through his mind, a voice that he could have sworn he'd heard before.
Opening his eyes, Dave looked at the books and held his hand out, for a third time. As he concentrated, the pressure started building behind his eyes, again, and he bit his lip to keep the pain from distracting him. He tried to imagine a hand, like Balthazar had instructed, but instead the image of a net came to him. Shrugging his shoulders, Dave imagined a net, and slowly, he could feel a thin thread of magic leaving him to float through the air toward the books.
The glittering, golden thread of magic was followed by others that left his hand, weaving themselves into a pattern in the air. The threads of magic wound around the books, into a net that slowly lifted into the air, the books suspended inside.
"Well, come here," Dave said, automatically, feeling foolish as soon as the words left his mouth.
But, to his amazement, the glowing net began to move slowly toward him until the books rested in his outstretched hands. The net collapsed as soon as he was holding the books, dissolving into a shower of light that dripped toward the floor.
"Very nice," Balthazar said, suddenly, coming toward him. "Very creative, although I wouldn't have thought that you would be up to magical weavings, quite yet. You are going to be truly great, some day."
"Really?" Dave asked, pleased with the unexpected praise.
"Well, don't let it go to your head," Balthazar said, briskly, and Dave laughed.
"Hey, was that you talking in my head, a minute ago?" he asked, as he suddenly remembered the deep voice that had seemed so familiar.
"In your head?" Balthazar echoed, looking at him, curiously. "No, even your powers aren't up to telepathic communication, yet. You need to develop them, more."
"Huh," Dave muttered.
If the voice hadn't been Balthazar's, encouraging him, then whose had it been? He looked down at the dragon ring on his hand, as though it could provide the answers, and the golden topaz eyes winked back at him as the dragon's tail twitched, slightly.
"Balthazar?" he called out, in alarm, his tone bringing the older sorcerer running to his side. "I think it's alive!"
He held out his hand for Balthazar to see, where the dragon ring was definitely moving, twitching the tip of its tail as it shifted on his finger.
"Settle down," Balthazar scolded, sharply, tapping the dragon on the nose like he was talking to a disobedient puppy. "Do you want people to see you?"
"It's alive," Dave repeated, emphatically, trying to make Balthazar understand.
Magic or no, metal wasn't supposed to be alive. It certainly wasn't supposed to be looking at him, with eyes that glittered from the reflection of the light.
"Of course it's alive," Balthazar said, as if it was obvious. "Don't you remember how it reacted to you when I gave it to you?"
"Well, yeah," Dave said, "but I thought that was just-"
"Magic?" Balthazar finished for him, wryly. "Oh, it was. Just not magic like you were expecting."
"Then, what-" Dave started to ask, but Balthazar shook his head, cutting him off.
"That is a lesson for another day," he said. "Right now, we're still working on your control."
"Right," Dave agreed, trying to focus back on the earlier lesson. "Do you want me to pick more stuff up?"
"Everything on the floor that shouldn't be there," Balthazar told him.
Dave nodded, even as he cast a dubious look at the cluttered floor of the shop. A lot of stuff had been broken in the fight and the floor was a mess. His room at home was cleaner than this. But, Balthazar had told him to pick everything up, and he wanted to prove that the older sorcerer had made the right decision in taking him on as an apprentice. Even if it took him all day.
Turning his attention to the nearest pile of debris, Dave focused on the mostly-intact vase resting on the top of the pile. He thrust his hand out, intending to grab the vase in a net and lift it into the air. But, the power practically exploded out of him, and he watched in dismay as the vase shattered into a million pieces.
"That was really expensive, wasn't it?" he muttered, sheepishly, when Balthazar came over to see what he was doing.
"Now you see why you need to learn control," was all the older man said. "If you could do this to a vase, imagine what else you could do."
Dave shuddered at the scenarios his overly-active imagination came up with.
"Control, got it," he said, quickly. "So, how do I keep from doing this to people?"
"Meditation is the most effective way to learn control," Balthazar began, but the sound of the bell over the door drew their attention to the front of the shop.
Dave cringed at the sight of his teacher, Mrs. Williams, along with the rest of his class. But, the shop was dark, and she didn't seem to see him at first, turning her attention to Balthazar.
"Excuse me, sir?" she asked. "I'm looking for one of my students. Did a boy with a red backpack come into your store?"
"I'm right here, Mrs. Williams," Dave spoke up, moving to where she could see him, and his teacher's expression went from concerned to furious in just a few seconds.
"Where have you been?" she demanded, angrily.
"I'm sorry," Dave apologized, quickly. "I got lost and turned around, and I stopped in here to ask for directions back to the Chrysler Building so that I could catch up to the rest of the class."
"You're a terrible liar, Dave," Balthazar muttered under his breath, too low for anyone else to have heard him, but Dave glared at him, any way.
"You got lost," Mrs. Williams, repeated, skeptically.
"Yes, ma'am," he muttered, and after a moment, she sighed.
"Don't wander away from the rest of the class, again, all right?" she told him. Turning to Balthazar, she shook his hand, quickly. "So sorry to have bothered you, Mr.-"
"Blake," Balthazar introduced himself, kissing the back of her hand in a gesture that had her blushing. "Balthazar Blake. And it was no bother at all. Dave and I were having quite a lovely conversation."
"Well, we'll be getting out of your hair, now," Mrs. Williams told him. "Come on, Dave."
She turned and ushered the rest of the class out of the shop, but Dave turned to Balthazar, instead, a panicked look on his face.
"What about our lessons?" he asked, in an undertone. "I'm supposed to be learning control, right?"
"I think you have enough control to keep from getting into trouble, for now," Balthazar told him. "And we'll have other lessons, later."
"But, how am I going to find this place, again?" Dave asked, worriedly.
It had been purely an accident that he'd found the shop in the first place, following Becky's letter. He wasn't sure he could find it again, even if he was looking for it.
"I'll find you," Balthazar assured him, giving him a push toward the door. "Go, before you get left behind, again."
"But," Dave protested, weakly, but Balthazar just pushed him out the front door and out onto the sidewalk.
Dave turned and glared at the closed door for a few seconds, wanting to go back inside, but the rest of his class was getting further and further away, and he didn't want to get in trouble. Hurrying after the group, he caught up to Becky, who was at the back of the group. She smiled at him as he stopped beside her, and he was suddenly reminded of why he'd entered the shop in the first place.
"Hey, Becky," he asked, and the girl looked over at him, curiously. "What was your answer? I kind of lost the note in that store."
