"I don't plan to keep back anything you need to know.

The biggest tradeoff is that you lose the ability to lie. Technically you can, but you lose power and karma proportionately to what the lie was and who heard, and it's severe enough that I can say practitioners can't lie. Even stating an honest belief and being wrong can cost you. You will have to constantly watch your every word, and if you can't then you'd be better off with almost any other option."

"Well what counts as a 'lie'? Jokes? Sarcasm? Metaphors? What do you mean by 'karma'? How do you measure power? Can Others lie? And what did you mean by the universe protects innocents?"

"Metaphors are safe. Sarcasm isn't. Most Others can't lie, especially older ones, but there are exceptions.

The reason for that boils down to the spirits. There's a collection of half-aware insubstantial beings that surrounds us. Talking about a single spirit, in this context, makes about as much sense as talking about a single bit of air. It's the aggregate that matters. They have short memories and are very literal with their interpretations. The Awakening ritual, when you become a practitioner, marks you as a person to listen to. If you tell a lot of lies, they have a lower opinion of you. You'll be less powerful, your enemies will be stronger, and you'll have bad luck. That's what karma is.

The same thing can work the other way. You've run across dangerous Others how many times before today? Most of them would have been bound by the Seal of Solomon, but not all. And even those that aren't rarely attack wantonly, because they know chance will side against them. To an extent, talking about the spirits and the universe can be interchangeable.

The other thing is that spirits are very old-fashioned. For instance, if you tell someone about our world, the spirits will see it as them being "one of yours." You'd be responsible both for any slips they might make and for what happens to them. That's why I asked how much you knew before healing you. If you had said something about the ogre and the naga being costumed people, I would have said your injury must not be as bad as you thought it was and healed it partially."

"So, I suppose I should also thank them a little, since I was certainly bound to run into this sort of thing eventually and now I have a nice practitioner willing to actually explain me everything without risking my being eaten. How can I tell if an Other is one that can or can't lie? What do spirits do? Just nudge and affect luck and stuff? How does magic work? What kinds of things do I have to do? What—do you have pen and paper? We'll both probably forget half these questions before you answer them."

"Of course. And would you like anything to eat or drink? Selection's almost unlimited.

Practitioners who deal with spirits directly—they're called shamans—typically draw symbols to attract particular types of spirits and make requests for anything from "move these writing instruments over there" to altering someone's perception of time." He pulls a pen and pad of paper from his pocket, sketches a rune on the top sheet, and taps it with his pipes. The paper and pen float to Sadde. "More important is that they affect magical power in general. If the spirits aren't listening to you, you have no presence and can't do magic at all. Conversely, if you're the magical equivalent of a household name then everything you do is generically more powerful. In here, in my demesne where all the spirits know me and all the ones still here think positively of me, I believe the common phrase is "one step below a god."

In most cases, magic works by asking another entity to do something, and having enough credibility that they do. Shamans are one example of that. Some practitioners summon or bind Others, trading on their name-recognition to back up their deals. If you go that route, you'll want to learn to tell what can and can't lie. You'll have a second sight for magical things, and anything bound by the Seal of Solomon will be recognizable using that. I can't tell you how because the Sight varies between individuals, but anything marked that way will be truthful."

"So... okay, magic is about convincing spirits to do what you want? Spirits and other stuff? 'Others'?"

"That's a lot of it, yes. It'd be possible to be completely self-reliant, maybe do very little magic and power it all with your own blood, but in general most things are traceable either to some Other or to the spirits."

"Isn't that a bit circular? You need convince the spirits you're powerful but to be powerful you need to have convinced them you're powerful in the first place..." Pause. "And I'll accept some water," she adds, something having belatedly occurred to her.

A glass of water floats over from nowhere in particular.

"It's very circular. If you're lucky, you skip to the end by being born to a notable practitioner bloodline. Spirits and many Others don't distinguish between individuals well, and tend to treat the current head of House Whatever as interchangeable. Like I said, old-fashioned. Karma is also heritable, by the way, so practitioners with children have even more incentive to play along.

For those of us who aren't so lucky, it's possible to spiral upward by gaining a little power, leveraging it well to get more, and of course never telling a lie. It's also not just power that attracts the spirits' attention. If you convince them your cause is right, or if you act confident even when you're not, you can temporarily get a lot of the same mileage. Stage presence is a valuable tool. Like when I said you could demand something of those two Others. They could have argued that they never made any promises to you, but they didn't, so if you had decided to make a claim the spirits would have agreed you were entitled."

She accepts the water then pauses to take this in (having written down a lot of stuff already). A smile starts slowly spreading on her face. "This looks like a magic system practically designed with me in mind," she says, finally. Then stops. "The Duchamps and the Behaims."

"You know them?"

"You could say that. I go to school with some of them."

"Of course.

They're the main practitioner families here, as it seems you've guessed. The Behaims use chronomancy, that being magic, and the Duchamps specialize in enchantment. They alter connections between people and things or people and people. I am going to have to ask that you not tell anyone I'm here, as I'd rather not go public yet and it's mostly them I'm hiding from."

"Of course." She looks at her notes again then asks, "What exactly is this Seal of Solomon?"

"An Other bound to the Seal can't lie, and can't attack innocents without reason. There are other rules, but those are the most important ones. In exchange, practitioners won't come after them. Suleiman made them agree at swordpoint, probably sometimes literal, but it's a much less one-sided deal today. Spirits appreciate it if you act according to what they consider right, and once the Seal caught on they started considering it right. Now when an Other signs on, they fit into the spirits' idea of how the world works and it acts as a power source for them. It was one of the first and greatest steps toward the practice actually helping humankind."

"Okay. Next, what's a demesne?"

"That's one of the three major rituals a practitioner is likely to do. At least in the most widespread tradition; there are others. The other two are the implement and the familiar.

Your demesne is a place that belongs to you. You lay claim a room, or a building if you're confident, or the north end of the city if you're me. Each neighbor who hears the claim has the right to challenge you at any fair contest. If you lose, you pay a forfeit agreed upon in advance. Possibly along the lines of three favors to be named later, or possibly the challenge was a fight to the death and the rest becomes irrelevant. Once you've won or lost the last contest, that place becomes your seat of power. It won't be immediate, but you'll be able to redefine practically any rule and will be the next best thing to unassailable. You do have to make sure to maintain your connection to the outside world one way or another, and you can be challenged for lower stakes even after claiming the demesne. It can be a significant power source, and is one of the more important marks of a serious practitioner."

"Im—later, let me see..." Notes: "What's name recognition, and is there anything non-obvious about this second sight?"

"Name recognition just means in the ordinary sense. If the spirits or Others you're dealing with know who you are and respect your or your family's history with the practice, they'll pay more attention and be more likely to sign a deal or obey an order. A practitioner in their own well-established demesne has this to the highest degree ordinarily possible; if Suleiman bin Daoud were alive today he'd have a similar advantage everywhere.

The Sight is looking into the spirit world and seeing whatever thing or place is analogous to the real one in the same location. There isn't much to say about how to use it, other than open and close your eyes without moving your eyelids. It'll make sense when you've awakened. Do make sure not to leave it on permanently. It's possible to get stuck in the spirit world that way."

"Noted. You mentioned using blood instead of spirits to do magic. Can that kind of magic be done even by 'innocents,' if it doesn't rely on spirits? And what other kinds of non-spirit magic are there?"

"No. Even you, without fully being an innocent, if you tried that now you'd just be smearing blood on things. The power is coming directly from the practitioner, but the universe does have to know that it's magic that's happening.

By non-spirit magic are you including Others? Using force or payment or knowledge of bindings to get them to use their powers on your behalf is as much a part of the practice as shamanism is."

"Okay, next... How did you spiral up? How'd you get your power? You mentioned half the city was your demesne and other people usually got buildings, how does that work?"

"Not answering that, I'm afraid. I made a promise to someone who isn't likely to call me on it if I break it, but that doesn't free me from keeping it."

A large rat with a brilliant white coat, formerly sleeping, stirs and moves to Johannes' shoulder where it curls up and goes limp again.

"That feels like a challenge. How did you learn about magic, and how long did you wait after becoming a practitioner to claim your demesne? And is that your familiar?"

"It's not intended as a challenge, but I can't say I'd object if people figured it out and imitated it.

I was younger than you are now when I attempted my sleight of hand." (This might mean less than it could, since right now he's only nineteen even if his mind is older.) "I did grow up around magic, so I was rather well informed for fifteen, but didn't have the bloodline advantage when claiming all this. Could have tried earlier, but the contests were bad enough as it was.

This is my familiar, yes. I never did get his name; the ritual was a bit unorthodox to say the least, but I've taken to calling him Janus."