Flecks of Gold by Alicia Buck

was becoming more used to taking long strides. I didn’t ache as much as before. The day passed quickly, and I searched for patterns in objects as I went. I was staring at my fingers, trying to determine their lacings when Breeohan asked what I was doing.
    “I’m finding my finger’s lacings,” I said, a little embarrassed at being caught, though I didn’t know why I should be.
    “You see that clearly? You can see the whole lacing?”
    “I guess, but I don’t know what to do with the things once I see them. How did you learn which line to change to do whatever you want it to do?”
    “I was taught, and I practiced.”
    “How long did it take you to learn?”
    “I have been learning lacings and other subjects for ten years, since I was ten.”
    So that made him twenty. I wondered how hard it would be for me to catch up to someone my age in pattern magic. That was, of course, if I ever learned it. I had too many things I was already worrying about. I didn’t need to add magic training.
    “I could teach you how to manipulate the lacings as we travel, if you like.”
    I hesitated. All this magic stuff was strange and a little scary to me. But if—no, when —I faced Kelson again, it would be better for me if I knew how to use the magic he could wield with such ease.
    “All right. Where do we start?”
    “To every change on any part of a pattern, there is a reaction of some kind.”
    I gathered that. That’s why I hadn’t dared experiment with the delicate strands on my own. I didn’t say this to Breeohan, however. I just looked at him expectantly.
    “You can start to anticipate what strands will cause what reaction after you have studied many lacings and can see what parts are similar or dissimilar in each pattern. Sometimes that will not help you, however. That is why lacings’ reactions must be passed from master to pupil.”
    All right already , I thought. Get to the action . The term “master” made me uncomfortable, and I wanted to start doing rather than talking about it.
    I didn’t have to wait long, however. He was soon showing me several patterns of the things around us and projecting what I could do to them by tweaking certain strands of each lacing. It was amazing. Breeohan showed me how to make a twig unbreakable, how to turn sand into glass or rock. I was starting to see what kind of things were possible with this lacing magic, but the pure scope of possibilities boggled and frightened me. I had to stop after awhile. Changing patterns took energy, and by noon I was spent.
    Breeohan sat calmly on a rock while I wheezed next to him. I glared. “Why aren’t you worn out?”
    Breeohan took out some rations while I stared at his graceful poise jealously. “I have been practicing for years and have built up endurance.”
    “Show off,” I mumbled. He smiled serenely.

    By late evening Breeohan and I reached the next village. I was glad to see that it was smaller than Cibar. There was no chance of getting lost, even if I was separated from Breeohan. The inn we found was as clean as I supposed any place in this primitive country could be, and I didn’t choke too badly on the food. At least it wasn’t slimy, which was a big plus. There was an awkward moment when the innkeeper looked at us slyly, flashed this icky, knowing grin, and asked if we wanted a nice room with a big bed.
    “Do you see a ring on this finger? No! So you shouldn’t assume—”
    Breeohan broke into my speech since I guess he saw that the innkeeper was confused. “We need two separate rooms,” he said.
    “What does a ring mean?” he asked after the innkeeper stalked away in an offended huff.
    “Oh, I didn’t think of that,” I said, embarrassed. “In my country, a ring on the left hand’s third finger means that you’re married.”
    “In our country one shows that he is wedded by wearing a band on the left wrist. I wondered myself if you were married.” He looked pointedly at my watch that I still wore despite