War of Magic (Dual Magics Book 4)

by Meredith Mansfield

  So that was it. She started to pull back, to twist free of his grip.

  “Can you think of a better way to cover your training?” Theklan asked.

  Kiara stopped pulling. He was right. He’d always been infuriating that way. She couldn’t think of a better plan, but she didn’t like his at all. “Just until the battle is over,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “Of course.” Then he leaned in and kissed her, sending tingles down to her toes. He pulled back, smiling smugly. “We have to give them a show if we want them to talk. I’ll see you again about an hour before sunset.”

  Kiara watched him go, not sure whether she wanted to pelt him with rocks or kisses, lightning blast him.

  ~

  As soon as she got back to her family’s hut, Kiara pulled that lock of hair out straight and used her belt knife to cut it off as close as she could see. That resulted in the remnant curling across her forehead just above her right eye. It probably looked ridiculous. Well, at least Theklan wouldn’t be able to tuck it behind her ear again.

  Then, it being too late to join any of the groups of herdsmen watching over the Dardani’s cattle and horses, she went out to help weed the Lion Clan’s vegetable patch—a job she hated. As the sun slid lower, just as the smells of meat cooking began to permeate the village, she put up her weeder and walked toward the Eagle Clan huts in search of Theklan for more instruction in magic. She met him coming toward the Lion Clan enclave, presumably looking for her.

  At sight of her, one of Theklan’s eyebrows quirked up. He reached out to give the sweat-dampened curl on her forehead a little flip and . . . smirked. That was the only word for that self-satisfied smile, she decided. Lightning blast it, all she’d accomplished was to let him know how much that irritating gesture of tucking her hair behind her ear still affected her. Not what she’d intended.

  Theklan took her hand and led her back toward her home fires. “I thought we could eat with your family while you practice some Far Speech and Far Sight. They won’t be shocked by our magic, at least. And it’ll look just like what a courting couple would do to anyone else.”

  As they walked, he drew her closer to his side. “We’re courting, remember?”

  Kiara huffed. “As long as you don’t forget why I’m putting up with this.”

  Theklan glanced at that curl on her forehead and smiled. “I won’t if you don’t. That is, if you’re sure that’s why.” He reached over with his free hand to touch her new curl again. “I like this, by the way. It . . . suits you.”

  Kiara suppressed a sigh. Maybe she should just give up her magic lessons until Thekila got back. The way things were shaping up, Theklan was planning to keep her too distracted to make much progress anyway. Hmm. If she could manage to bespeak Theklan’s sister, maybe she could enlist some help in keeping him in line. It was worth a try.

  Though, likely, the response wouldn’t be any more helpful than her own mother’s: that Kiara had never had any trouble expressing her wishes, why should now be any different? Which was actually a question Kiara didn’t have a good answer for. Except that Theklan was apparently every bit as stubborn as she was. Not a comforting thought.

  ~

  Kiara silently cursed as she caught herself reaching to take Theklan’s hand. Not for the first time. Lightning blast it. A little more than a seven-day was all it had taken for her to slip back into—almost—feeling as comfortable as ever in Theklan’s presence. It wasn’t fair. She had to forcefully remind herself every day that she couldn’t trust him. Not like that. Not ever again.

  Worse, Theklan had noticed when she jerked her hand back. He took it in with a small smile. Why did her hand have to feel so good in his? Good thing Thekila would be back soon. Tomorrow or the next day at the latest.

  He led her this time around to the far side of the waterhole. Kiara drew in a breath in irritation. A walk around the waterhole had a very specific meaning to the Dardani. Of course, she and Theklan had taken that walk once before—the day after his manhood test. She really didn’t want to think about that right now. It just made it harder to remember this was all an act—at least on her part. She didn’t think Theklan was acting at all.

  A change of subject, at least for her thoughts, was definitely in order. “Have . . .” Kiara paused to swallow the slight squeak out of her voice. “Have you been out to check on that wild horse colt you brought back?” She had, back when she was still riding with the herds regularly.

  Theklan smiled. “Yes. He’s nearly grown, but he’s still showing no signs of wanting to escape back to the wild. I doubt he’ll ever make a good riding horse, but that’s not what he’s wanted for anyway. I suppose it’ll be another year or two before we know if he’ll take to our mares as his natural mates. Or if his offspring will have his color. He is a beauty, though.” He pulled her just a little closer to his side when he said that.

  And on that, at least, they could agree. “I don’t think he’ll ever want to run away from us. The herdsmen spoil him too much for that. I’ve caught at least a dozen of them—including Daron and Bion himself—slipping him windfall apples that should have gone to make cider.”

  Theklan laughed. “That could explain it.”

  They stopped at the far end of the waterhole. And sat down.

  Theklan sat beside her, not quite too close. “Today, I’d like you to try to influence the lions—or, at least a lion.”

  “Influence?”

  He shrugged and looked up at a circling eagle. “You can’t always expect that an eagle—or a lion—will be where you need them to be. Or looking at what you want to see. But you can . . . or at least I hope you can . . . give them a little nudge in the right direction.” The eagle spun off to the west and then started circling again. “Like that.”

  “How?”

  Theklan bit his lip. “Once you’re seeing through their eyes, you just sort of push the thought at them. It’s . . . it’s almost like initiating Far Speech, but with a motion rather than conversation. Try it.”

  Kiara closed her eyes and used her connection with the Spirit of the Lion, along with a touch of Far Sight, to find a solitary young lion and connect so that she could look through his eyes. This much had become almost routine. The next bit would be new, though. “Got one.”

  “Good,” Theklan said. “Now see if you can get him to turn his head. Just look in another direction.”

  The lion was looking to his right. Kiara turned her own head to the left, thinking hard about that movement. The lion’s head turned fractionally in that direction. It was working!

  Something familiar pressed against Kiara’s lips. It was disorienting. For a moment, she wasn’t quite sure if it was the lion’s mouth or hers. Then she knew and she let herself sink into the well-known, much-missed sensation for just an instant. Her eyes sprang open on Theklan’s features, much too close for proper focus. Kiara scooted back, breaking off the kiss. She gritted her teeth and barely restrained herself from smacking Theklan.

  “Um . . .” Theklan stammered. “Sorry. It was just too great a temptation when you turned toward me with your eyes closed like that.”

  “It was not an invitation.” Kiara sputtered in rage. “I was doing—trying to do—what you told me. Influence the lion’s movements. That’s all. Until someone ruined my concentration, anyway.” Her eyes narrowed. “You set that up.”

  Theklan held his hands up. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t expect you to turn toward me like that. It . . .” He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, head bowed. “I guess I’ve just been hoping for too long that . . . that you’d want me to kiss you again. It seemed like a dream come true, for a moment. One I couldn’t afford to miss.” He shook his head. “Messed up again.”

  Kiara scrambled to her feet. “I think that’s the end of our lessons. And our pretend courtship. Vatar and Thekila should be back soon. We don’t need to see each other again at all.”

  “No!” Theklan leapt to his feet. “Sky above and earth below! Don’t do tha
t to me. Please.” His voice almost broke and he swallowed a couple of times before continuing. “I’m sorry I took advantage of the moment. I’m sorry I ever spoke to Sharila—though I probably would never have learned to fly without her help. I’m sorry, Kiara. I don’t know how many more ways to say it or what more I can do to make you believe me. I don’t want to lose you. You’re practically all I thought about while I was exiled to the Valley. I love you. Only you.”

  Kiara’s anger eased a little at the clear desperation in Theklan’s voice. It almost sounded like he was about to cry. She blew out a long breath. “All right.”

  He raised his head, eyes alight with hope.

  She held up a hand. “I . . . I don’t think we should continue this play-acting, though. It’s . . . It’d be better to be honest—for both of us. Maybe . . . maybe we can try going back to being friends. For now.” She could do that. It’d be a relief to stop swinging between hurt anger and wanting to trust him again. Maybe this way, she’d be able to figure out which were her true feelings.

  A little of the light faded in Theklan’s eyes, but not all of it. He nodded. “Maybe you’re right. For now. Go back to the beginning and start over.”

  Kiara returned his nod. “I think . . . maybe that’s enough magic for today. We should be getting back.”

  “All right.”

  The walked back the way they’d come, still side by side but no longer holding hands. After a long silence, they settled on discussing strategies of dealing with the Exiles and their Themyri subjects when they arrived.

  “Too much still depends on when,” Theklan said. “The last I heard from Vatar, the Exiles still haven’t left that camp by the river.”

  “It’s already getting late in the season,” Kiara said. “The clans are going to start getting restless about returning to their autumn camps. And there’s no way the Dardani can stay at Zeda over the winter. We’d freeze. So would half our herds.”

  Theklan nodded. “I know.”

  They’d circled back almost to the Eagle Clan huts, nearest the waterhole, when they spotted the riders just dismounting. Thekila’s flaming red hair was unmistakable, even among the clutch of redheads. Arcas was the only one with dark brown hair among them.

  “They’re back!” Kiara hurried forward to greet Vatar and Thekila. She recognized Teran among the other strangers. Another, younger man and two women, both with nearly blonde hair with a reddish tint. Like Quetza’s, but neither of them was Quetza. One stuck very close to the strange younger man. The other . . .

  As Vatar waved to Theklan and Kiara, the girl turned. And Kiara stopped in shock. It was the other girl, the one Theklan had kissed. Sharila.

  Sharila turned and saw Theklan. With a happy cry she ran toward him, right past Kiara, and threw her arms around him.

  Kiara’s stomach churned. She’d been so close to trusting him again. “Well, it seems I’m not needed here,” she tossed over her shoulder as she marched off toward the Lion Clan huts. “Enjoy your reunion.”

  Chapter 43: Devastation

  Theklan threw off Sharila’s embrace and watched Kiara stalk off. “Lightning blast it!” He raked his hands through his hair. “Why did you have to go and do that?”

  “Why shouldn’t I embrace the only friend I have here.”

  Theklan looked in the direction of Kiara’s retreat, shoulders slumping. “You’ve just ruined everything. Kiara . . . Things have been very delicate with Kiara. And you’ve just made them worse. Maybe irreparable.”

  Sharila followed Theklan’s gaze. “Why should you care what she thinks?”

  Theklan spun on her and hissed, fighting to keep his voice down so no one else would hear. “I care because that’s the girl I love. Will always love. She was watching for my return with Far Sight and saw you kiss me. She misunderstood. I’d almost convinced her that it didn’t mean anything—not that she wasn’t still mad at me. But at least she’d agreed to talk to me, be friends again. And then you had to go and do that. Right in front of her. I can’t think of anything worse you could have done. It would have been better if you’d just taken my spear and plunged it into my heart.”

  Sharila tossed her head. “Well maybe I should just go home. It’d save having to live in one of those horrible mud huts, at least.”

  “Maybe you should, if all you can do is complain and make things worse for those who are trying to do something.”

  Sharila seemed to expand with rage. “What did you bring me out to this place for anyway, then?”

  Theklan looked around to verify there were no other Dardani in earshot and then lowered his voice. “I thought we were helping each other. You were going to help us with the Exiles, and I was going to try to get you adopted into the Wolf Clan, so you could learn about the Spirit magic first hand.”

  Sharila deflated a little. “Well, I still want that.”

  “Then talk to Thekila or Vatar about it. Vatar knows more people here than I do, anyway. And his father knows all the chiefs. I don’t want anything more to do with you.” He strode off in the direction of the waterhole—the opposite direction from where Kiara had gone.

  ~

  Theklan sat among the reeds, pitching pebbles into the still waters—by hand, no magic. He didn’t look up as Vatar settled next to him.

  “Things aren’t working out between you and Kiara?”

  Theklan sighed and tossed his handful of rocks into the water all at once. “I thought they were. Kind of gradually. Then I did something stupid. And then Sharila. Kiara will probably never talk to me again after that.” He pulled his knees up and dropped his cheek onto them, facing away from Vatar.

  “I don’t know about that. You may not remember, but I did something pretty stupid once with Thekila. There was a period there when she really wasn’t talking to me. Pointedly. Eventually I got a chance to apologize and . . .” Vatar gestured in the direction of the Lion Clan huts. “Things worked out.” He lowered his voice. “It was a really bad time, though, when she wouldn’t talk to me, even to let me apologize.”

  “I have apologized. Several times. Kiara doesn’t . . . didn’t believe me. I thought I’d almost convinced her—until this afternoon.”

  “Well, I’ll allow that it might be best to let Kiara calm down a little. What do you plan to do then?”

  “I was wondering how hard it would be to drown myself in the waterhole.”

  Vatar put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t do that. We need you. The Dardani need you. And your sister would drag you out of the water and kill you herself for scaring her like that. I’d help her.”

  Theklan huffed an unwilling chuckle at that last word picture.

  “You are not—never will be—alone, Theklan.” Vatar gave Theklan’s shoulder a little shake. “Besides, it’s not completely hopeless. Kiara wouldn’t be so mad if she didn’t care. At least, that’s been my experience.”

  Theklan turned his head toward Vatar. “What worked for you?”

  Vatar shrugged. “In my case, music. I was playing those reed pipes of mine. That lullaby I play for the children, actually. Thekila was walking by and heard it. I played a couple more tunes—Dardani ones, unfamiliar to her. And . . . we talked.”

  “I don’t think that would work for me.”

  “No, you’ll probably have to find your own way. Maybe it’d be best if it didn’t have to do with teaching her magic, though.”

  “Oh, she’s not going to want me to teach her. Not now that you and Thekila are back and Teran’s here. Thekila and Teran are both better teachers than I am, anyway.” He turned his head again to look out over the water. “There’s no reason for her to talk to me at all, now.”

  “You might be surprised, if you give it a little thought. And a little time. I know how hard that is.”

  Chapter 44: Sentinels

  Vatar stood up. He had no alternative but to leave Theklan to his misery, though he made sure that Thekila would stay nearby, just in case. He thought that comment about the waterhole had been a bad
joke, but it didn’t hurt to make sure someone would keep an eye on the young man for a little while. Right now, he had to go tell Pa the news they’d gotten from Orleus.

  “What did you find out?” Pa asked as soon as Vatar ducked into his parents’ hut.

  “The Exiles have broken their camp by the river, but they’re not headed this way. At least not yet. They’re heading east as nearly straight as the lake and river permit. We’re not sure whether they’re going to turn north from the ford or go on into the Forest. Orleus’s scouts will keep us apprised.”

  Pa rubbed his chin. “Some of the clans are already becoming anxious to leave Zeda. Honestly, they have a point. Nearly everything within a day’s ride of Zeda has been grazed over. We can’t keep the herds here much longer. Either the herdsmen have to take them farther out—or the clans must disperse to our autumn villages.”

  Vatar paced. “Either way . . . it becomes more dangerous. If the clans split up, the Exiles could potentially pick them off, one by one. But the herdsmen are generally our best fighters, having more practice against predators. If they’re too far away when the Exiles strike . . .”

  “Will they attack? Could they be intending to go on through the Forest to the Valley? Leaving us alone?” Pa asked.

  Vatar shrugged. “They could. But I’ve been adding up the days in my head—considering the size of the Exiles’ camp, now with the women and children included. It’s getting awfully late in the season for them to be certain of reaching the Pass before the snows close it. Unless they have another route. They were originally exiled to the south. They have to have gotten over the mountains somewhere."

  "When will we know?”

  “We may not, if they enter the Forest—until they either attack us or we get word from the Valley that they’ve attacked there. If they turn north from the ford . . . well, then we’ll be pretty sure they’re coming this way. But if they go into the Forest, they could go anywhere—including north toward us—and we’d have no way of knowing. Orleus’s scouts won’t follow them that far and the few magical means we have to watch them as they get closer will be much less effective under cover of the trees. Far Sight, maybe . . .”