“And why should I believe you?” Baraz challenged them.
Vatar rubbed his face. Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea. His mind was fogged with exhaustion. How was he supposed to marshal his best arguments in this state? Theklan passed him the water skin which he’d filled at the waterhole. Vatar drank thirstily before replying. “Maybe because if we weren’t committed to protecting the Dardani, we wouldn’t have any reason to tell you any of this. It would have been much easier—and safer—not to say anything.” He handed the empty water skin back to Theklan. “And if we didn’t believe this was urgent, we might have stopped to eat and rest before coming to you.”
“Huh!” Baraz sat back, thinking. “Well, but if what you say is true, then these Exiles couldn’t make a convincing imitation of the Spirit of the Lion, say. Could they? They’d be too small.”
“It’s true, any actual change into that shape, without the help of the Spirit of the Lion, would be undersized. But there are certain tricks they could use. It’s also possible to project an image.” Vatar glanced aside at a boulder a little way off. It had the vague shape of sleeping dog. He narrowed his eyes in concentration and enhanced that similarity, adding even the slight movement of the sides, indicating breathing.
Baraz scooted back a little.
Vatar smiled and let the image go. “It’s not real. I can make it look like a dog. But I can’t change a rock into a living thing. However, a very skilled Exile could put such an image over himself—or over an undersized Transformation into a lion or bear—to make it more convincing. They could even project images of ravens and eagles, though I don’t think any of them would actually be able to take those shapes and fly. Learning to fly takes a lot of time, and a lot of work.” He chuckled, remembering his own early Transformations. “Even learning to walk on four feet instead of two takes some practice.”
“So . . . assuming I believe you, how do you propose to fight this magic?” Baraz asked.
Vatar let out a slow breath. “First, by preparing the Dardani not to take it at face value. Only you can do that. Second, by talking to the chiefs. Probably a full Council of Chiefs. The Dardani will have to fight the Themyri. And they won’t be as easy to drive off as the Dardani might expect. Not with the Exiles driving them forward.”
“But the magic?”
“Well, there are only the three of us, here. We may get a little more help from our friends for the actual battle, but we’re going to be outnumbered. We haven’t had time, yet, to make a more definite plan. And . . . I’d rather not . . . expose our magic before all the chiefs. At least . . . not unless you’re willing to stand up for us.” And I’d prefer not to, even then.
“What, exactly, can you do?” Baraz asked.
Vatar began to tick off Talents on his fingers. “We can communicate with each other over great distances. But only with others who have the same kind of magic. We call that Far Speech. Then Far Sight allows us to see things at a distance. That may help us to know when the Exiles are close, but for any great distance we usually need someone known to us in that place or some kind of path to follow, like a river.”
Thekila laced up the front of her tunic and turned back toward the men. “But Theklan and I can see through the eyes of the eagles. And you can see through the lions.” Thekila cocked her head to one side. “You’ve never tried the eagles, have you, Vatar? And I’ve never tried to see through the eyes of a lion, but the Spirits might give us a little help there, too.”
Baraz’s mouth dropped open. “You can see through the eyes of the eagles?”
“Yes,” Vatar answered. “And I can see through the eyes of the lions. I know. Trev said that was a sign of the true shaman. We’re not that, but, as Thekila said, it’s another place where our totem Spirits seem to give us a little help.”
“Huh!” Baraz said, looking away at the ripples the wind made on the water. After a moment he turned back. “What else?”
Vatar shrugged. “Transformations, obviously. That could be very helpful against any Exiles trying to imitate the Spirits of the Eagle or the Lion, but not much help for the other clan totems. I . . . haven’t actually practiced fighting as a lion much. Probably I should. I could almost certainly defeat any Exile trying to use that shape. My lion would be bigger and I’m more used to it. There are no lions in the Valley, so it’d be a new shape to any Exile trying to use it. They couldn’t have much more time than what it takes to learn to manage their feet. I almost fell on my ear the first time I tried to walk as a lion. And the first time I ran, I tumbled down into a dry wash. Thekila and Theklan, of course, can really fly.” Vatar bit the inside of his lip. He was babbling and that wasn’t going to help.
“Don’t forget,” Thekila said. “You can do at least one thing I doubt any of the Exiles can. You can strip their Transformations.”
Vatar huffed. He wouldn’t have brought that up. He wasn’t sure that Talent would do any actual good when faced with potentially dozens of Exiles using Transformations. The question wasn’t so much whether he could strip their Transformations as whether he could do it fast enough to make a difference. It wasn’t that he objected to telling Baraz, either. Compared to what they’d already revealed it wasn’t going to make a difference. But, if Vatar was any judge, the man was already stunned by what they’d told him so far. And it was easy for a man that overwhelmed to just fall back on old, bad, traditional Dardani ways of thinking. Why add this on top of everything else if it wasn’t going to make a difference?
Honesty is best, Thekila told him through their bond. If we don’t tell him about this and then it does become important, we risk making him suspect us—again. Better to tell him everything we can and hope our candor helps to convince him to trust us.
Vatar closed his eyes. Perhaps you’re right. But not quite everything. I doubt Fore Sight will be useful in this. I don’t want to try to explain singing power into the blades I make. And I’m not going to use the shield if I can help it. Vatar was the only one who could cast the shield. Thekila couldn’t borrow that Talent, but the power for it came from her and could be draining. He wasn’t about to do that to her on a battlefield if he had any choice at all. Let’s stick to what we may actually use, for now.
Thekila’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn’t object.
“What’s this?” Baraz asked.
“Some Talents are rarer than others,” Vatar answered. “Far Speech and Far Sight are the most common. Transformations are much more difficult. Many never do more than project images. Some can’t even do that. But there are a few Talents that only crop up once in a while. I have one of those. I can remove another magic user’s Transformation. But I’ve only ever done it a handful of times. And only one at a time. It could certainly be useful, but I’d hate to build our whole strategy on that one ability.”
“None of the rest of you can do that?”
Thekila shrugged. “I can . . . sort of borrow that ability from Vatar. But I’ve only ever done it once. And that was someone I knew well.”
“Is that all?”
“No,” Theklan said, blushing slightly. “The Exiles will also all be able to do distant manipulations. Moving rocks and other inanimate things—like what you saw me do right after my manhood test.”
Vatar winced at the memory of the rocks of the Pass suddenly rising up to strike him. He rubbed at his left hand, which had been broken in that attack. “That may be the worst. The others will only unnerve the Dardani. Rocks can injure—or kill—as well.”
“And you’re the only one of the three of you who can do that?” Baraz asked Theklan.
“No,” Thekila answered. “I can, too. And Vatar can borrow that ability from me. And because of certain practice we’ve had, we’re probably better at it than any of the Exiles.”
“Can’t Theklan borrow any of these abilities?”
Vatar shook his head. “It only works between Thekila and me. It’s because of the bond we share as life mates, more or less.” I’m really not going to ex
plain bonding to Baraz.
Baraz nodded. “I will need to seek the guidance of the Spirits on what you’ve told me. But you should go ahead and ask for a Council of Chiefs.”
Vatar nodded. It was the best they could hope for. He pushed himself to his feet though exhaustion threatened to pull him back down and held out a hand to help Thekila up. Though it wasn’t really that far, it was going to feel like a long walk back to Zeda. At least his other children would be there to greet him at the end of it. That thought helped to get his legs moving. Better his legs than his arms. He didn’t think he could raise his arms above his head right now if his life depended on it.
Back to Zeda and tell Pa, first. Then they could get something to eat and rest. Pa could take care of calling the Council of Chiefs.
Chapter 31: Unexpected Reception
Theklan was stumbling by the time they reached the Lion Clan portion of the village and made their way to the hut Thekila and Vatar shared. They’d brought nothing with them but Taleara and the spearheads, so there weren’t even bedrolls to lie down on. Those were still with the horses and the rest of their gear—and Teran and Sharila—in Tysoe. He sank down to the grass mats anyway. So did Thekila, accepting Taleara back from Vatar, who’d been carrying her for most of the walk.
Vatar remained standing just inside the doorway. “I should go and get Zavar, Savara, and Jadar from Mother and Pa. And we need something to eat—and something to sleep on.” His voice sounded like he was speaking from the bottom of a very deep well.
“I know you’re eager to have the children back with us,” Thekila said. “I am, too. But, none of us are in any condition to watch them right now. Wouldn’t it be better to wait until we’re rested?”
Vatar sagged half-way down, until he was sitting on the threshold of the door, a large step above the level of the hut’s floor. “I need to ask Pa to call for the Council of Chiefs. Anyway, Mother and Pa will hear that we’re back. They’ll—”
The hide covering behind him shifted and a foot just missed kicking him. With a grunt, Vatar shifted himself to the floor, just far enough to clear the doorway.
Danar stepped down into the hut. “Vatar, what were you doing sitting there?”
Vatar grinned wearily. “Thought it’d be a little easier to get back up from there.”
Danar stooped down. “Are you ill?”
Vatar shook his head. “Just really, really tired. And hungry. It’s not easy getting all the way from Tysoe in less than three days. And we couldn’t carry much food with us.”
“And then we had to persuade Baraz to let us stay,” Theklan put in. “Or . . . well, Vatar did most of that.”
“Three days? How many horses did you kill riding that hard?” Danar asked.
Vatar chuckled wearily. “No horses. We flew.”
Danar stood up. “You’re not making any sense, Vatar. You must be delirious. I’ll get your mother.”
“If you bring us something to eat and drink along with Lucina, we’ll explain as best we can,” Thekila said. “Oh, and something to sleep on. We had to leave our bedrolls behind in Tysoe, with the horses.” Her eyes half closed. “Though right now I think I could sleep on solid rock.”
Danar nodded and stepped up out of the hut.
“That solves one problem,” Vatar said with a sigh. “But it means more talking before we can rest.”
Theklan heartily agreed with Vatar’s distaste for more talking. Or . . . well, he would have, if he had the energy to say anything.
~
Theklan had dozed off by the time Lucina and Danar came back. It was the smell of warm meat rolls that woke him.
While Danar distributed the meat rolls and she poured fruit juice into rough clay mugs, Lucina looked around at them and shook her head. “Tell us what you can while you eat those. Then all of you need to sleep for at least the rest of the day.”
Vatar started to protest, but she cut him off. “Or do I need to add a little pauver juice to this to make sure of it?”
Vatar subsided. “We do need rest, but—”
“You tell us what needs doing immediately,” Danar said. “Everything else can wait until tomorrow.”
“And you can’t take care of your children if you don’t take care of yourselves,” Lucina added.
So they took turns, chewing and carrying on the conversation. Vatar explained the problem of what the Exiles now knew about the Dardani, and how. Theklan gave a brief description of how they’d gotten to Zeda so quickly.
Danar barked a laugh at that. “That must have made quite an impression on Baraz.”
Theklan sighed. “Yes. But we’re still not sure what he’s going to decide after conferring with the Spirits.”
“That’s only one reason we need a Council of Chiefs as soon as possible,” Thekila said. “If the chiefs accept the danger, it may influence Baraz in our favor.”
Lucina began laying out the spare bedrolls. “Well, we know enough to go on with, now. You need to rest or you won’t be able to be coherent enough to persuade the chiefs or anyone else. We’ll look after Zavar, Savara, and Jadar for a little longer. And little Taleara, too.”
Theklan didn’t need encouragement. A full belly for the first time in days and a soft place to lie down made it nearly impossible for him to keep his eyes open. Looked like Vatar and Thekila were having the same problem.
“Are you sure you didn’t put pauver juice in that cider?” Vatar asked sleepily.
Lucina laughed. “I didn’t need to.”
~
Theklan woke first, in the early evening. He knew it was still early because he could hear people moving about and talking outside the hut. He lay there for a moment, listening to the familiar and comforting sounds of village life. Home.
By their slow, steady breathing, Vatar and Thekila were still asleep. Well, he was younger than either of them. And, to be fair, he’d had the least burden on their journey, too. Vatar had had to carry their baby. And Thekila had to nurse her at every stop. All Theklan had to do was fly.
While his limbs—especially his arms—felt heavy and he definitely didn’t want to fly anywhere for a good, long time, Theklan wasn’t really sleepy anymore. In fact, while he was still very tired, he was also . . . restless. Maybe it was just the slightly stuffy atmosphere of the hut. They hadn’t had the time—or the energy—to open the vents and allow it to air out. And, too, he’d gotten used to buildings with actual windows. A little air would probably help.
Or maybe he was restless because now that he was finally back among the Dardani, he couldn’t wait to see Kiara. He imagined her squeal of delight at seeing him. Well, maybe not. She had to know he was here by now. In fact, if he was honest, he was a little disappointed she wasn’t sitting there waiting for him to wake up, the way she had the morning after his manhood test.
Theklan’s stomach rumbled. Maybe he’d just go out and grab something to eat. And look for Kiara. He could even bring some food back for Vatar and Thekila for when they woke up.
He got up and felt his way to the door as quietly as possible. In the dim light, he stubbed his toe on the hard-packed earth of the step up to ground-level outside. Vatar turned slightly toward the noise, but Thekila just sighed and snuggled in closer to him. Theklan pulled the hide covering from the door and stepped out into the moonlit evening. He felt better—and hungrier—after just a breath of the fresh night air.
Theklan made his way to the nearest cook fire and got a plate of roast beef and roasted vegetables. Oh, good. He hadn’t had good beef—not jerky—in a long time. He looked around and saw Kiara sitting with Lucina and Danar—and the children nearby. Better and better. Didn’t look like she’d seen him yet. Maybe he could still surprise her. That thought made him smile.
Theklan sat down next to Kiara and smiled. “Hi.”
Kiara scooted a little away from him. Theklan blinked. He hadn’t sat that close. And this wasn’t anything like the reception he’d expected. Maybe . . . maybe she was angry he hadn’t come t
o her as soon as he got back? After a nod to Danar and Lucina, he swallowed hard and turned to Kiara. “I thought of nothing but getting back to you the whole way here. And . . . it even looks like Baraz might be persuaded to let me stay.”
Kiara half turned away from him. “I don’t see what concern that is of mine.”
Now he really didn’t know what to say. This . . . this wasn’t the Kiara he knew. The girl he loved. Something had happened between them that he couldn’t begin to understand. Had she found someone else while he was gone? He didn’t think Kiara would do that . . . at least not without telling him straight out. What was going on? “But, Kiara . . . we promised . . .”
Kiara set her plate down, barely touched and leapt to her feet. “I’m not hungry. I’m going to go lie down where it’s quiet.” She stalked off.
Theklan watched her go for a moment, not understanding anything. He couldn’t be dreaming all of this, could he? He turned to look at Danar and Lucina as if they could explain the inexplicable.
Lucina’s brows furrowed as she watched her daughter walk away. “She’s been behaving oddly for the last couple of days.” She looked back at Theklan. “It might be nothing. Maybe no more than her blood cycle. Some girls Kiara’s age have strange mood swings.” She looked back to where Kiara had disappeared between the huts. “Though . . . it’s never affected Kiara that way.”
War of Magic (Dual Magics Book 4) Page 20