Vatar shook his head, looking at the high-sided reed basket at Quetza’s feet. “I’m not at all sure about this. What if I drop her? Or what if she falls out?”
Quetza picked up the basket. “I’ve added strong leather straps to hold her in.” She grinned at him. “And if I could carry Savara across Caere when she was four, you shouldn’t have any trouble with a baby only a few months old.”
“And you have to learn to trust your eagle form,” Thekila added. “Speaking from personal experience, the eagle’s talons are made to grip. Learning to let go is harder than holding on.”
Vatar shrugged acceptance of this. They’d run a test flight late yesterday—with rocks in the basket—and he hadn’t had any trouble holding on to it. Not tipping it when he turned . . . that was a different matter. There hadn’t been as many rocks in the basket when he landed as when he’d started.
“I’ll fly along with you until you settle into it,” Quetza offered as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. “That way, if you do drop her—which I very much doubt—I’ll be there to catch her. I’m pretty nimble on the wing.”
“It’ll be cold,” Vatar objected.
“She’s well wrapped up,” Thekila countered. “Stop searching for objections. I know you can do this. Do you think I’d risk it if I didn’t?” She placed Taleara in the basket and fastened the straps that would keep her in place. She placed a bag of dried fruit at the baby’s feet and another of dried meat and flat bread at her head. It’d be meager rations for the journey, unless they could find more food on the way, but it was all Vatar could comfortably carry. Better to go hungry than risk dropping the much more precious cargo.
“Of course not.” Vatar shifted into his eagle form and dropped off the edge into flight. He circled back, flapping just hard enough to hover for an instant. An eagle’s wings—even an ordinary-sized eagle’s—weren’t really meant for that, but he needed at least a moment to carefully grasp the sides of the basket and then beat his wings harder to gain altitude.
Quetza melted into her avatar—a white wyvern—and flew just below him. Despite his best efforts, the basket rocked slightly. Vatar held his breath. He nearly forgot to move his wings when he heard a tiny, gleeful chuckle from the basket. Taleara’s first laugh.
She likes flying, Thekila said through her bond. You keep flying a bit to get the feel of it. We’ll be right with you.
Thekila and Theklan shifted to their avatars and took wing. The four of them circled once and then struck out north.
~
By midday, the chortles from the basket had turned to whimpers and finally a wail.
She’s hungry, Thekila said. It’s past her feeding time.
Vatar anxiously scanned the ground below. There’s no place to land.
“Theklan, fly ahead and find us a rock outcrop.”
Theklan bobbed once in the air and shot off ahead, sweeping from east to west. The smaller eagles could fly faster than Vatar, even if he hadn’t been carrying anything. Theklan was back quickly and led them a little to the west to a high rock outcrop that would be perfect—if Vatar’s senses didn’t tell him there was a pride of lions lying up in the shade about half-way up. He veered aside with a loud shriek.
“What’s wrong?” Theklan asked. “It’s perfect.”
“Lions.” There was no way Theklan could have known, after all. Not unless he saw them. He couldn’t sense lions.
So I see. Thekila’s mental voice sounded . . . amused. Look back. Apparently lions don’t like oversized eagles.
Vatar swung his head to look back. Lions streamed off the rock outcropping, running across the plains away from them. All except two male lions who stood on the ledge where the pride had been resting and roared defiance at the interloping birds. Still not a safe place to rest, then.
“Push them,” Theklan suggested.
“What?”
“I found out I could do it a little with the eagles, the winter I was with the Dardani. Just to get one to turn his head, really, once I was already looking through its eyes. But I wasn’t trying to do anything more. I can’t do anything with lions, of course. But you might. Just kind of push them to leave. See what happens.”
Well, if they could drive the lions off—temporarily—they’d be pretty nearly assured there weren’t any other predators in the immediate vicinity. Vatar made a wide turn, not to disturb the basket too much, and focused on the lead lion of the pair. He connected with the lion, they way he would if he intended to look through its eyes, and thought, “Leave. Run,” and tried to push that thought at the big cat.
Surprisingly, the lion blinked. But then he shook his massive head and roared again.
Vatar switched tactics, trying the technique on the subordinate lion of the coalition. The slightly smaller lion took a step back under the pressure. Then another. Finally it turned and followed the females and cubs down off the outcrop.
One down, one to go. Vatar pushed a little harder on the remaining male. Alone, now, the bigger male gave way, grudgingly. At last, he, too, turned and retreated from the outcrop. Thekila and Theklan circled up to the top where they landed and resumed their true shapes. Thekila raised her arms to receive the basket as Vatar once again tried to hover. With a sigh, Vatar settled at the other side of the tiny plateau and let his concentration go.
“Is she all right?” he asked.
Thekila smiled as she turned away from Theklan and loosened the ties of her tunic. “Just hungry, like I said.”
Theklan coughed. “Uh. Toss me that empty water skin, Vatar. I’ll go down and fill it.”
Vatar did as he asked. “We can’t stay long. And be careful. I doubt those lions will go far.”
Thekila looked up at Vatar. “Yes, but you’ll know when the lions return. We’ll have time.” She pulled a scrap of cloth out of the basket and handed it over her shoulder. “Get this wet, too. I’ll need to clean Taleara up before we go on.” With her free hand, she reached for the bag of dried fruit. “Sit down. Eat something.”
Vatar shook his head.
“Sit. Down.”
The unaccustomed authority in her voice had Vatar seated cross-legged beside her before he even thought about it.
“That’s better. None of us can afford to get over-tired on this trip. You, least of all. Now eat something.”
“There’s not enough. You and Theklan—”
“Yes, we’ll have to be careful. Unless we get lucky later and find something to supplement this with. But all of us have to eat a bit and drink some water and get a little rest before we go on. For just the same reason that you have to allow the horses time to graze and drink on a long trip. So don’t argue.”
Vatar smiled, watching her nurse little Taleara. “You’ve become as good a plains traveler as any Dardani.”
Thekila snorted. “I’ve had to, married to you. And you’re the one who taught me about taking care of the horses. It applies to us, too, you know. We have to stay in good condition to cross the plains this way. The food’s limited by what you can carry, but we need to eat it, not save it.”
Vatar sighed and picked up a piece of dried fruit, then he handed the sack to her. “That goes at least as much for you. You’re feeding two.”
Thekila took a piece and started chewing.
Theklan called from just below the rim of the plateau. “Is it safe to come up?”
Vatar laughed. “We’re facing west. Just come and sit with your back to us if it makes you more comfortable”
When Theklan had joined them, he passed the full water skin over he his shoulder. “I drank down below.”
Vatar took the water skin and passed the sack of dried fruit back. “Take a piece. You may want more water after you chew your way through that.” When Theklan had taken a piece and passed the bag back to be placed in the basket again, Vatar asked. “How big is the waterhole?”
“One of the smallest I’ve seen. Why?”
Vatar sighed again. “Then it’s likely not worth going do
wn to see if there’s anything worth gathering to supplement our supplies.”
Theklan shook his head. “Not here. Maybe we’ll have better luck tonight.”
Vatar sighed. “I hope so.”
~
Before midday on the third day, they sighted Zeda.
Do we land here and walk in? Thekila asked.
Vatar considered. That would be the way least likely to expose their magic to the Dardani. Except . . . how would they explain arriving without horses? Whereas, if they walked through the village from the opposite side—after seeing the shaman—people would only assume they’d left their horses with one of the herds. On the other hand, Thekila and Theklan might get away with flying over the village without raising much comment. White eagles were unusual, but not unheard of. There wasn’t a chance that he wouldn’t be noticed, though. No. Swing wide around the waterhole and come in beyond the shaman’s hut.
Won’t that only reinforce his reaction to Theklan’s magic?
Maybe. Maybe it’ll give him a different perspective on it. Show him that the Spirit of the Eagle favors us in a way he’ll have trouble denying. In any case, we’re going to have to make him understand the magic that the Exiles are likely to use against us. If we can’t persuade him, we don’t have a chance with the rest of the tribe. Don’t let your Transformation go right away, though. Let me try to talk to him first. And he probably shouldn’t recognize Theklan until he’s at least willing to listen, anyway.
They flew around the western shore of the waterhole and on to the north side of the village, where Baraz’s hut stood separate just beyond the outskirts of the Raven Clan enclave. Vatar’d had time to refine the plan by then. They flew directly over the shaman’s hut and circled, shrieking to draw his attention. As soon as Baraz looked up, they wheeled off toward the smaller waterhole where Vatar and other members of his family had conferred with Trev more than once. As he expected, Baraz followed them.
Thekila and Theklan alit high in an old, half-dead tree that stood almost in the water. Vatar dipped low to set the basket down as gently as possible at the roots of that tree, then flew a short distance and landed on the ground.
Baraz hurried up and fell to his knees before the oversized bird. “Spirit of the Eagle!”
Vatar let his Transformation go. “In a sense.”
Chapter 30: Persuasion
Baraz shot to his feet. “You! How—”
“With a lot of help from the Spirit of the Eagle. Because the Dardani are going to need that help. And we don’t have much time.” Vatar looked up to the tree. Come down, now.
Thekila and Theklan flew down to the ground and shifted back to their true forms. Thekila bent and took Taleara out of her basket.
Baraz swallowed several times. He looked like his knees were about to give way. After a moment he turned to Vatar. “Why were they so much smaller than you?”
Of all the questions. . . Vatar was tired, hungry, and very worried about what the Exiles were doing right now. He definitely didn’t want to waste time on unimportant things. Still . . . they needed to make Baraz understand. “Because they’re Eagle Clan. The Spirit of the Eagle is their totem. I only get a little borrowed help from that Spirit, because of my bond with Thekila. The Spirit of the Lion, on the other hand . . .” He shifted to his avatar, the black-pointed white lion, full-sized, and back again.
Baraz’s knees did give out at that and he landed sitting cross-legged on the ground. The shaman looked like he was about to faint. So, was this the time to push him harder? Or give him time to recover?
Vatar sat down opposite him, too tired to remain standing any longer. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve tried to explain this to you before. Even Trev tried. I wouldn’t have done it this way if I had any choice. We’re tired and hungry, because we flew from Tysoe, to get here as quickly as possible. We have at best a few days to prepare you and, with your help, the Dardani people so that their superstitions don’t become their downfall. You have to believe we only want to protect our people.”
Baraz’s eyes narrowed. “I’m listening.”
He didn’t sound very receptive. Maybe that would have been too much to hope for.
Vatar drew a deep breath, organizing his thoughts. He’d been trying to think of the best way to do this as he flew over the last two days. The hard truth was they just didn’t have time to try to do this more gradually. Instead of introducing the concept a little at a time, he was going to have to try to explain all of it at once. He looked down at his hands and started.
“The first thing you have to understand is that there are—there have always been—people in the world who can use magic. And that alone doesn’t make them sorcerers. Magic itself doesn’t come from Evil Spirits. It’s inherited from parent to child, just like the color of your eyes or the shape of your nose.” Vatar raised his eyes to Baraz’s face. “These are things I learned while I was on Ordeal to prove that I am not a sorcerer. Until then, I’d tried to deny the magic I had inherited from my father—from the man who sired me—in Caere. It was on Ordeal that I had to learn to accept it. And that it’s not magic itself that’s evil, but what’s done with it. If Evil Spirits have a hand in the making of a sorcerer, it’s there, influencing the way that these abilities are used.”
“Trev knew about your . . . magic . . . when he brought you back into the tribe?” Baraz’s voice was significantly higher than his normal range.
Vatar nodded. He needed to try to reassure Baraz before shock drove him to react negatively. “Trev knew the full story of my Ordeal. And of what happened after. More than there’s time to tell you now.”
“What did he say about it?”
Vatar paused, thinking back to that night at this very waterhole. The steam tent and the scented smoke. He could almost smell it now. “He said that I’d learned more about myself and the world than most men ever do. And that it was too bad I was Lion Clan, because I’d have made a good shaman.”
That made Baraz blink. “He said that?”
“Yes.”
“Go on.” Baraz sounded marginally calmer. Maybe quoting Trev had been the right choice.
“There are two groups of people who have mostly similar kinds of magic. And for the most part, they keep to themselves. One group lives in Caere and the other coastal cities. My father—not Danar, the man who sired me—is one of those. And I inherited magic from him.” Well, and from Mother. But now was definitely not the time to tell Baraz about Taleus. A distant ancestor who rode along with Vatar and sometimes offered advice or information would likely sound just a little too much like an Evil Spirit to Baraz. No need to confuse the man further. He had enough to take in already. Vatar gestured to Thekila, who was turned slightly away from the men, nursing Taleara. “Thekila and Theklan inherit theirs from another group that lives on the far side of the Great Forest and across the mountains beyond. They have rules—tenets—about the use of magic, to make sure that it’s never used for evil purposes.”
Thekila cocked her head. “Can you recite the Third Tenet, Theklan?”
“Of course,” Theklan said. “The Third Tenet is ‘Never use Powers to harm another. Powers were not given to us to destroy the Maker’s work.’”
“The Valson—Thekila’s and Theklan’s people—live by those Tenets,” Vatar said. “In fact, the Fifth Tenet states that the Tenets define the Valson and you can’t be Valson unless you live by them. But there is a group of . . . former Valson, who reject the Tenets. They were exiled from the Valson for that. And that’s the problem we face now. The Exiles believe that their magic gives them the right to rule over any people who don’t have magic. They’ve already subjugated the Themyri. Their ultimate goal is to return to the Valley and conquer the more peaceful Valson. That would be bad enough. But I believe they plan to capture the Dardani first and add us to their army for that conquest.”
Baraz’s smile showed teeth more than mirth. “They won’t find us as easy to subdue as the Themyri.”
“I�
�m not so sure,” Vatar answered. “About a seven-day ago, the Exiles captured one of the Dardani scouts the chiefs sent out to keep an eye on them. I’m afraid they found out exactly how to overpower the Dardani, possibly without even much of a fight. Unless we can prepare the people, somehow.”
Baraz’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why? What do you think these Exiles learned?”
“First, that the Dardani do not stay together all year. It would be vastly easier for them to attack us clan by clan, after the clans leave Zeda. Second, and most devastating, about our totem Spirits.”
“Why should that be an advantage for them? The Spirits protect us, not these Exiles.”
“Yes, but suppose that they can . . . imitate those Spirits convincingly. Some of them, anyway. The Wolf, certainly. And the Bear. Probably the others, too, one way or another. Ramel was thoroughly convinced that the Spirit of the Wolf was on the side of the Exiles when I spoke to him. I tried to convince him otherwise. But he can’t possibly be more than a few days behind us. And once he starts to tell his story to his clan brothers, things could quickly get out of hand. Unless we find a way to prepare them for it first. And only you can do that.”
“Imitate the Spirits?” Baraz asked suspiciously.
Vatar drew in a breath. This was where they could lose Baraz’s support completely. “The ability to Transform—to take another shape or to make the illusion of another shape—is part of the inherited magic I told you about before. Not everyone with magic can do it or do it well. But enough of the Exiles can.”
Baraz stiffened. “So, what you did before . . . the eagles . . . was only . . .”
“No,” Thekila put in, fingering the eagle amulet at her neck. “Or, not entirely. What Vatar said about the help of our totem Spirits is true. Before I came here, before I ever met Vatar, I had learned to take the shape of an eagle and even taught myself to fly. It’s why Vatar knew I had to be Eagle Clan. But even the most powerful magic can only do so much. It can’t, for example, change the actual size of anything. So my eagle was the same size I am—a little bigger, and a good deal heavier, than the one you saw Vatar change from. It wasn’t until after I was adopted into the Eagle Clan that my eagle became what should be impossibly small. And Vatar’s lion form should only be his size—less than half the size of a real male lion. But you’ve seen that it’s not. It is the help of the Spirits of the Eagle and the Lion that make that possible. Maybe . . . maybe the Spirits just needed someone with magic to convert for their purposes—to protect the Dardani.” She paused. “Or maybe, just someone who would know that such a Transformation was even possible and try it.”
War of Magic (Dual Magics Book 4) Page 19