“Is already a healer,” Ari finishes. “And might already know some boundary spells, since his father’s a Seeker. How about you? Did your papa ever teach you any of this?”
“Not really,” I admit. “My interests were the magical creatures, mostly. And naturalist magic.”
“So neither of us knows what we’re doing. Great.”
“I take it you’ve never learned any boundary or healing spells either?”
“Nope.” He smiles wryly. “Empathy gifts aren’t much good for any of that. Mama tried to teach me some healing spells a few times, but she gave up because I was hopeless.”
“You’d think empaths would be good at healing,” I counter. “Can’t you sense pain? So you’d be good at identifying the problem.”
“A little too good at it. When I focus on someone with my gift, their pain feels as real to me as if it’s my own, and that makes it difficult to concentrate on doing spells.”
“Oh.” I pause. “Are all emotions like that for you? I mean, do you sense other people’s emotions as if they’re your own?”
“If I focus enough on them, yes,” he says. “It’s like I can see it in their life force, so I know it’s not originating with me, yet I can feel it as strongly as if it were.”
“Huh,” I say. “That would be kind of awful when people are sad or in pain.”
“You have no idea,” he mutters. “But when people are happy, it isn’t so bad. And anyway, I can pull my gift away from someone if they’re hurting me too much. I didn’t have as much control when I was younger, but I’m better at making sure I don’t get overwhelmed now.”
“Good. Maybe you’ll be better at healing spells now.”
“Maybe,” he says doubtfully. “I don’t know if Mama will have time to teach me much, though. She’s busy at the bakery at night and asleep during the day.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll learn about it at training,” I say, ignoring the pang of sadness his words just gave me. I can’t imagine what it’s like for him to not even get to see his mama very much, especially when he doesn’t have any other family. “Then you can pass it on to me.”
“I’ll do my best,” he says. “But for now, how do you want to practice this?”
“We could try putting boundary spells of our own around this cave and the beach,” I say. “Even if the Seekers’ spells keep Lilja from getting near the village, I don’t know exactly where the boundary is, and she might be able to wander far enough that someone can see her. We should put up proper spells around the beach so we can be sure she’s safe and hidden. We’ve been risking a lot, giving her so much free rein.”
“Agreed,” Ari says, nodding. “And Seeker Agnar did talk about boundary spells a little in today’s lesson, though we didn’t get very far. Mostly he just reviewed our performances during the competition.”
“Oh?” I say, raising my brows. “What did he say to Johann?”
Ari laughs. “That he took too long to complete the task, being the last one out. Johann glared at me the whole time.”
“I’ll bet. And the others?”
“He said the opposite to Tomas: that he ought to have taken more time to explore, and that he could’ve gotten some vatnavera scales like you did if he hadn’t been so hasty to grab the snowpetals and ignored what else was present.”
“Wait, did Agnar really mention me like that?”
“Well, no, he didn’t mention you by name. He just pointed out that ‘other competitors’ got vatnavera scales, and that Tomas ought to have done the same. But as far as I know, you’re the only one who did that, so ‘other competitors’ just meant you.”
“Ah. I knew he wouldn’t actually praise me or anything.”
“Right. He’s not much for praise, actually. Spends most of the training sessions criticizing us. He lectured Emil for bringing in items that were of lesser quality than what the rest of us got.”
“And you?”
Ari hesitates. “He told me I relied on you too much.”
“Oh,” I say awkwardly. “I guess he wasn’t a fan of us teaming up?”
“Guess not. You missed this because you’d already gone with your family, but after the competition ended, Seeker Ludvik congratulated me and said the way you and I teamed up was, and I’m quoting directly here, ‘ingenious.’ So not all of the Seekers disapproved. But Agnar definitely did. He said…”
“What?” I ask when Ari trails off. “What did he say?”
“I don’t know… He made it sound like you were dragging me down or something. Said I wasn’t reaching my ‘full potential.’ ”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Why, because you’re not doing stuff yourself? Or just because I’m a girl and therefore inferior to the rest of you and not worth your time?”
Ari shakes his head hard, sending his curls flying. “I don’t know. I’m not really sure what he meant. But I don’t think he was happy that you passed the first trial.”
“Of course not,” I fume. “He’s embarrassed to have kicked me out of training now that he’s seen what I can do without training. He doesn’t like that I’m proving him wrong. He’s hoping that I’ll fail just to save face.”
“Probably,” Ari says. “Anyway, that’s about all he said. He did talk about boundary spells for a couple of minutes at the end.”
“What did he say?”
“Mostly he just talked about how those of us who aren’t defenders will find them challenging, since we can’t just pop up a shield like they can, but that we can all find our own way to make them work. He talked about how warriors can move objects to create physical boundaries and how naturalists can use the elements surrounding them. Didn’t offer much advice for healers or empaths, though.”
“Hmm,” I say. “Guess we’re going to have to figure it out on our own. I could ask my mama and sister for help, maybe. They’re both defenders.”
Ari brightens. “That’s a great idea!”
I shake my head. “But Elisa is six years old and not so good at explaining abstract things like how her gift works yet. And my mama is… Well. She’s Mama.”
“Meaning…?”
“Meaning she’s intimidating, and I’m not sure how much she really wants me to become a Seeker anyway, and I really don’t want to have to ask her for help.”
“Oh.”
“I could ask Papa, though,” I say, brightening at the thought. “He might have more useful advice for me anyway. A defender would just talk about how easy it is to make shields or whatever, but Papa will understand how my gift actually works, and he’ll know the secret to making boundary spells as a naturalist.”
“Right,” Ari says. “Good idea.” But he sounds kind of sad when he says it, and it takes me a second to figure out why. Ari can’t ask anyone for help with his empathy gift the way I can ask Papa. However an empath is supposed to do a boundary spell, Ari will have to figure it out on his own.
The thought makes me sadder than it probably should—I need to be better at these spells than Ari so that he doesn’t beat me during the next trial, after all. But it just doesn’t seem fair that there isn’t a single person in the village he can ask for help with his gift the way the rest of us can.
I may not be an empath, but I do know what that feeling is like, of not having an advantage that everyone else in the group has because you’re different from them. It’s a feeling I’m becoming increasingly familiar with, and I wish Ari didn’t have to be so familiar with it too.
“All right,” Ari says, “here’s what I’m thinking we should do. Tomorrow, I’ll try to learn more from Agnar in training about how boundary spells work. And you can talk to your family about it and hopefully get some information from them. Then tomorrow night we can set up the spells around the beach.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I say. “Then what do you want to do tonight?”
He hesitates. “I was thinking I’d go down to the docks and see if the Vondur will let me trade with them. I still have some dragon scales. Mayb
e I can get some information.”
“I’ll go with you,” I say immediately.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’ll seem suspicious enough if one kid somehow has access to Realm items they’re not supposed to have. If both of us go, it’ll make it worse.”
“Okay, but I’m at least going down to the docks with you to make sure you don’t get murdered or something.”
“Deal.”
Lilja snorts from behind us, as if to tell us how stupid we’re being, but we ignore her. Finally, we’re going to figure out what’s going on with the Vondur.
And it’s only a little, tiny bit dangerous. Probably.
TWENTY-ONE
When I sneak out of my hut that night, Ari is already waiting outside the garden. Together, we creep into the village and down the path to the docks, where the main Vondur ship now sits, its red flags whipping in the breeze.
“Sure you’re up for this?” I ask him.
“It’s fine, Bryn. I’m an empath, remember? I can read a room. If they seem too suspicious or like they’re going to murder me, I’ll get out of there.”
“Right,” I say skeptically. “Well, good luck. Don’t die.”
“Not planning on it.”
“If you’re not back here in fifteen minutes, I’m going for help.”
“Okay. See you in less than fifteen minutes, then.”
He strides away toward the ship, and I hide in the shadows cast by the fishmonger’s shop, watching.
There are a couple of Vondur men sitting in the tent they pitched on the walkway, displaying a few wares from the mainland. Ari walks up to them, but I can’t hear what they’re saying—I’m too far away.
Ari gestures toward their wares, and one of the Vondur says something in response. Ari reaches into his pocket and withdraws something so small I can’t see it from here. A dragon scale, most likely.
This definitely seems to have caught their attention; both men stand up and inspect the item closely. There’s a long, agonizing minute of conversation. Then two. Then three.
How long has it been? More than fifteen minutes? I should’ve been counting—
But they’re done. Ari backs away from the tent, gives the men a goodbye salute that’s common among mainlanders, and then walks briskly up the lane. As soon as he’s out of sight of the Vondur tent, he ducks toward the fishmonger’s shop. I double around it, and we meet in the front of the building, where we can’t be seen.
“What happened?” I ask breathlessly.
“We were right. Someone is trading with them. But they wouldn’t tell me who. They seemed excited about the scales, and they asked me if I could bring them something ‘more valuable.’ I’m guessing they mean a living creature.”
“And what did you say?”
“I pretended like I was interested, but I said it was risky, because the council would be upset if they found out I’d given them anything. And then one of them said, ‘We’ve got other sources. We’ll give our gold to them if you don’t want the risk.’ ”
I gasp. “Then what?”
“Then I said, ‘No other source could give you something from the Realm except the Seekers.’ ”
“And what did they say?”
“They kind of exchanged glances, like they knew something I didn’t, and their emotions were… secretive but also amused. Bryn, I definitely think their source is one of the Seekers.”
“No way. We’ve been over this. Most of them have been Seekers for at least a decade. Why would they suddenly stop protecting the Realm and trade with the Vondur for gold?”
Ari doesn’t answer, but he looks like he’s thinking about it. “Who did your friend Runa say she saw at the docks the other day? Seeker Freyr?”
“Yes. She said he just talked to a fisherman, though. That could be nothing.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Ari sighs. “Let’s get out of here before someone spots us. We can talk it through some more tomorrow.”
“Okay. And we’re going to do boundary spells on the beach tomorrow night, right?”
“Right. Don’t forget to ask your family about them.”
“I won’t.”
We’ve reached the main path branching into the village. From here, our homes are in opposite directions. “See you tomorrow,” I say. “Promise you’ll stay out of trouble until then, okay? No spying on the Vondur without me.”
Ari smiles. “See you tomorrow, Bryn.”
It does not escape my notice that he didn’t promise anything.
* * *
The next morning, I catch Papa in the garden. I’m still reluctant to ask Mama or Elisa about boundary spells, so I’ve decided to start with him. “Hey, Papa?” I ask.
“Yes, Bryn?”
“I had a question for you. About magic.”
Papa smiles and settles on the garden bench, leaning his cane against its side. “Go ahead.”
“We learned about basic boundary spells in training yesterday, and I was wondering… Well, I was wondering how to cast boundary spells. Like, say you wanted to prevent dragons from coming close to the village. How would you do that?”
“Are you sure I should be telling you this, Bryn? Shouldn’t you ask Seeker Agnar in training?”
“I have,” I lie. “But I need a naturalist’s perspective. And I’m not asking you as a former Seeker, just as a naturalist. That’s not an unfair advantage, is it?”
Papa considers this for a moment. “Well, different Seekers set different spells, depending on their personal gifts. Surely Seeker Agnar explained that?”
“Right,” I say. “But that’s what I wanted to ask you—as a naturalist, how would you set a boundary spell?”
“Well,” Papa says, stroking his beard, “as naturalists, boundary spells aren’t really our strongest suits. Defenders are the Seekers who most often set and maintain those kinds of spells. But the other Seekers do need to know how to set the spells themselves, in case of emergency or in case a defender is unavailable. For all types of boundary spells, naturalists usually draw on natural elements as much as possible.”
“Like what?”
“Take temperature, for instance. A fire can’t exist without heat, and dragons won’t stray into territory that they find too cold. You could create a natural, fireproof barrier just by using cold winds or ice. Both are readily available in parts of the Realm.”
It’s a good suggestion, but neither of those things are available near Lilja’s hiding place. “What else could you use? What about water?”
He nods. “Yes, water would certainly work.”
“But how?”
Papa smiles. “You know the answer to that, Bryn. Magic is about will.”
“Right, but how do I picture something complex like that? Like a water spell triggered by the presence of a dragon? What if I wanted it to prevent dragon fire?”
“Take it one element at a time,” Papa says. “First, picture the water. Where would you want it to come from? A nearby river? The ground? The air? How much water would you use? How will it come together? You must think very carefully about these details and plan them in advance so that you can picture it as clearly as possible while setting the spell. Then you move on to the rest of it. Picture the water surging up when there is fire, and—this is the important bit—picture it not moving when fire isn’t present. Then, as you picture the flames, imagine what you want the water to do. Imagine multiple scenarios, to ensure that the spell will work correctly in any situation.”
I frown. “Sounds complicated.”
“Spells at this level are complex,” Papa agrees, “but it’s no less intuitive than any other use of your gift. Just like when you were five years old and you used to make plants in the garden grow. You simply sensed the life force of the plants and wanted to strengthen them, and you did.”
I wish I could practice the spell with him, but there’s no way I can ask that without it being suspicious. He thinks I’m in training for this, after all. “Okay,” I say instead. “T
hanks, Papa.”
I feel better after this conversation, but I’m not still not sure how exactly I want to go about setting a spell up. And even if I figure out how to do it for Lilja, I have no idea what kinds of scenarios the Seekers will cook up for us in the next round. What if there’s a situation where there is no water or fire for me to draw from? I need to figure out something foolproof, something that works at all times.
After Papa leaves, I sit on the garden bench for a little while, playing with my magic. The life forces of the plants around me hum happily in response to the touch of my gift, but my magic is completely unreceptive when I try to imagine making borders or shields the way defenders do. If magic is about will, like Papa says, why can’t I will it to do what I want?
I let out a sharp sigh of frustration, and Elisa wanders over, abandoning the dirt house she was building for her dolls in the corner of the garden.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“You’d better clean that up before Mama sees you playing in the dirt.”
“Is it your gift?” she asks, watching the green light of my magic swirl across my fingers.
“Sort of,” I say. “I’m supposed to be practicing boundary spells for the Seeker competition.”
“Oh. That’s easy.”
“For you, maybe. You’re a defender. Shields are what you do. But naturalists can’t make them.”
Elisa shrugs. “Can’t you make a shield with the plants or something?”
“I guess I could. Or I could move the earth around. But what happens if there aren’t any plants in the arena during the competition? What if the floor is stone instead of soil? I know I can probably make a physical border somehow, but that isn’t enough. I need to be able to make a boundary even if they don’t give me anything to work with. But what is a naturalist supposed to do when there’s no nature?”
Elisa tugs at a loose thread on her sweater. “There’s always nature around, silly.”
“What?”
“There’s always dirt. There’s always air. Even inside the hut.”
I blink. “El, you’re a genius.”
Seekers of the Wild Realm Page 19