The Voice of Prophecy (Dual Magics Book 2)

by Meredith Mansfield

Miceus drew back. “I’m s-sorry.”

  “And stop saying you’re sorry.” Cestus sighed. “It’s not your fault. Isn’t there anything you’d like to do? Other than run your mother’s errands.”

  “B-Before M-Mother t-took us out of the T-Temple school to t-teach us herself, I always enjoyed the history l-lessons most. T-Tabeus and the Sea D-Dragon was my favorite. I would have l-liked to l-learn more, but M-Mo—”

  “But your mother didn’t approve,” Cestus finished for him. “All right. I’m not sure what you can do with that—other than teach or work in the archives. But if that’s what you’re interested in . . .” Cestus rolled the pen in his hand a few more times before going on. “I used to give Vatar lessons, one evening every seven-day. I could easily do the same for you, Miceus. I could teach you as much history as you want. And other things if you’re interested. Then you could find something to do with your life so you wouldn’t have to depend on Gerusa for everything.”

  “Would you?” It felt like Cestus had just thrown him a rope when he was drowning. “I . . . I would r-really like that.”

  Cestus nodded. “Then meet me in my classroom tomorrow evening. We might as well get started.”

  Chapter 34: Fear

  As soon as Miceus left, Lancera came out of the kitchen. “You have to stop this right now, Cestus,” she said. “He’s the son of High Councilor Gerusa. What if he had seen what you’re really working on?”

  Cestus stood up. “You’re being ridiculous, Lancera. What if he had? There’s nothing here but the Book of Prophecies and some historical scrolls. If Gerusa came here herself, she couldn’t make anything more out of it than what I told him. The archivist and librarian think I’m researching to write a history for young students.” He chuckled. “I might even do that. There are some stories in these scrolls the youngsters would enjoy.”

  Lancera waved this off. “Someone will find out. There are some of the Fasallon you can’t lie to, you know. It’s not just you, Cestus. There’s me and the children, too. You’re endangering all of us. You have to stop this. I don’t know what makes you think you’re the Fasallon who’s not a Fasallon. But this has to stop.”

  Cestus closed his eyes. He couldn’t dismiss her fears entirely. Oh, he’d done nothing yet that would draw undue attention. No one could make much of a teacher doing research. No one would even think to question it. But, sooner or later, he was going to have to involve others and that would always involve a risk. It was a risk he was willing to take, though, for the possible payoff.

  One look at Lancera’s face, though, was enough to tell him the truth. She’d been humoring him as long as she thought it was safe, but Lancera didn’t believe he could really be the Fasallon who was not a Fasallon. Whatever he did, he’d have to keep it secret from her, too, from now on. Unconsciously, he straightened his spine. It didn’t matter. He knew what had to be done, now. He was too far down this road to turn back. He’d show her the kind of man he was. “I’m being careful, Lancera. You need to calm down. Panic isn’t going to do anything but draw attention. And I’m not going to stop. This is too important—for all of us—for me to just stop now. If no one ever takes a risk, nothing will ever change.”

  Chapter 35: Ritual

  Vatar waited until Arcas had arrived before arranging to meet with his family about Trev’s ritual. He couldn’t drag his feet about it any longer. It was almost midsummer and the full moon would be just a few days later.

  “What’s this about, Vatar?” Pa asked when they’d all gathered.

  Vatar shifted his feet. He’d been rehearsing how to start all afternoon and it still didn’t feel right. “I need your help with something.”

  “Of course—” Mother said.

  Vatar cut her off. “No. Don’t promise anything yet. This is . . . not anything ordinary. It . . . it involves magic.”

  He was looking at the grass mats on the floor, but he heard both Pa and Kiara breathe in sharply. He was absurdly grateful for Thekila sitting close by his side. She wrapped an arm around his waist. Vatar blew out his breath in frustration. “I’m making a mess of this.”

  Lucina reached across to lay a hand on his arm. “Just come out and say it, Vatar. We’re your family. Is this about Veleus’s magic?”

  Vatar looked up. “Yes. No. It’s about mine.”

  “Yours?” she asked.

  “You must at least have suspected something, Mother.” Vatar held his breath. Mother would likely take this best. If she reacted badly, he had no hope of the others.

  Lucina nodded marginally. “What Veleus called Far Speech? I’ve known that since last summer. It was obvious you’d inherited that ability when Orleus told us that you would be bringing Thekila back with you.” She smiled. “How else could he have known?”

  Vatar drew in another breath. “It’s much more than that, Mother. Much more.”

  Mother’s hand tightened on his arm. “How much . . . how much can you do?”

  “Pretty much anything Father can.” After a moment Vatar added, “And a couple of things even he can’t do. But that’s not the point.”

  “What is the point, Vatar?” Pa asked.

  “Something’s gone wrong. I don’t know if it’s the magic or if . . .” Vatar took another deep breath, shaking his head. It would be best just to keep it simple. “Sometimes, I hear a voice inside my head. It’s not my thoughts, because it says things I don’t know. Can’t know. It’s not Far Speech. Father thought—”

  “Sky above and earth below!” Arcas burst out.

  Pa made the sign of the Lion, their clan’s sign to ward off evil. “The Evil Spirit!”

  Vatar shook his head. He had to make them understand this. “The Dardani are wrong about that, Pa. Fasallon magic doesn’t come from Spirits—Evil or otherwise. It’s inherited, just like the color of my eyes or the color of Thekila’s hair. It’s not something you can choose to have—or not to have.”

  “Back to this voice, Vatar,” Mother said. “What do you think it is?”

  Vatar let out a breath. “Father thought it was Fore Sight, but—”

  “Fore Sight?” Kiara asked, speaking for the first time.

  “The ability to see the future, in a limited way. It’s not something you can control, apparently. Prophecies come, or not. Mostly, I just get a vague sense of danger, like an itch between my shoulder blades.” Vatar shook his head again. “That’s not the point either.”

  “Stop circling it, then, and tell us,” Pa said.

  “We’ll understand. At least, we’ll try to,” Lucina said. The look she shot at Danar and Kiara left no doubt that they had better try hard.

  Vatar’s lips quirked in a half smile. “That’s all I can ask. Well, this voice . . .” He swallowed. No. He didn’t need to explain about the archery. Just the thought still spooked him. Could he expect that it would have any less effect on Pa and Kiara? Pa was already . . . well, if not disturbed, at least uneasy. Kiara seemed to be taking it better. “I don’t like it. I’ve asked Trev . . . Trev’s going to do something to try to . . . flush it out, whatever it is. On the night of the full moon. And he says he needs you to help.”

  Lucina reached out to give him a hug. “Of course we’ll help.” Her tone brooked no argument.

  Behind her, Pa swallowed hard and nodded. Kiara looked like she’d have liked to ask a dozen more questions. What else, with Kiara? But she nodded, too.

  “You’ve said what Veleus thinks of this voice. What do you think it is?” Pa asked.

  Vatar shook his head, unwilling to voice his worst fears.

  “We don’t know,” Thekila answered calmly. “Trev says whatever it is, it isn’t evil.”

  The repetition of Trev’s opinion seemed to help settle Pa.

  Vatar clenched his fists. “I have to understand it. I can’t rest until I do.”

  Mother shook her head, smiling. “You always have needed to understand things, Vatar. We’ll help however we can.” She looked around at the others. “All of us.”
<
br />   ~

  Late on the day of the full moon, Vatar and his family all met at the same small waterhole where Vatar had waited after his Ordeal to be called back to the tribe.

  Trev lit a fire he’d laid ready. “This is best done away from the villages. Trying to speak to a Spirit often calls others.” He began placing Vatar’s family around the circle of the fire. “Lucina, you are blood, please sit to the west.” Trev indicated a spot well away from the fire. “Kiara is also blood, to the east. Orleus to the south. And Arcas to the north. You are both also blood. Blood now guards the four points. Heart must stand guard between. Thekila, between Lucina and Orleus. Danar, between Lucina and Arcas. Theklan, between Arcas and Kiara. One point is left unguarded. I have placed the fire there.”

  Vatar suppressed a shudder. What were they about to do that required such a warding?

  When they were all settled, Trev threw a bunch of herbs on the fire so that the smoke blew across the circle, carrying a faintly sweet scent with it.

  Trev indicated a spot within the circle for Vatar to sit. “I want you to try to calm yourself, Vatar. I know that isn’t easy. But if you are worried or frightened, it will only interfere with what I’m trying to do.”

  Vatar swallowed hard. He was both worried and frightened. He started to work on one of the focus exercises he’d learned during his stay at the Academy. It was intended to help him reach a state of calm focus in order to access his magical Talent, but it would serve for this as well. Trev was silent, apparently doing something very similar.

  Trev threw another bundle of herbs on the fire and brought two cups from beside the fire. He handed one to Vatar and then sat in front of him, so close their knees were almost touching.

  “Drink,” Trev said.

  The drink had a slightly bitter taste. When both Trev and Vatar finished their cups, Trev looked directly into Vatar’s eyes. The young shaman’s mouth moved silently. Occasionally, Vatar caught a word or two.

  After a moment, Trev broke the steady eye contact. “There is something about you, Vatar. Something ancient, I think. I don’t sense Evil. Whatever it is, it doesn’t wish you ill. It seems more a helpful Spirit. Whatever it is, it has been with you a long time. Much longer than you think.”

  Vatar blinked. “Something ancient? Tabeus?”

  Trev leaned forward again. His eyes narrowed as he looked back into Vatar’s. His lips moved, forming the name silently, then repeating it several times, with increasing volume. Then Trev shook his head slightly. “The Spirit responds to that name, but the name does not belong to it. I’m afraid that I cannot dislodge this Spirit without an exorcism.”

  At those words, Vatar heard inside his mind, Stop worrying. You are not cursed and you’re not losing your mind. I’ve only tried to help. I’ve been silent since I frightened you with the archery, haven’t I?

  Vatar’s eyes grew wide. Who are you? What are you? He thought back.

  How would a name that has long been forgotten help you understand?

  It was the same answer he had gotten back in Caere, but this time Vatar felt sadness wash over him with the thought. He blinked, trying to clear his head. Then he thought back, Maybe I’d have someplace to look for answers.

  There was no reply.

  Trev’s eyes, still looking into Vatar’s, had gone wide too. “You just heard the voice again, didn’t you?”

  Vatar nodded and cleared his throat before answering. “Yes.”

  “What did it say?”

  Vatar repeated word for word what the voice had said.

  Trev was silent for a moment. Then he nodded to himself and stood. He gestured for the others to do the same, breaking the circle.

  Trev turned to Vatar while the others gathered closer around them. “Vatar, there is only one way in which the Modgud belief about Spirits is different from the Dardani’s. In addition to the other Spirits—protective, good, evil, and neutral—we also believe in ancestor Spirits. They are very rare. I’ve never encountered one before. When they do appear and offer their guidance, that is considered great good fortune. Everything I’ve seen so far makes me believe that you are being guided by such a Spirit.”

  “Tabeus?” Vatar asked.

  Trev shook his head. “No. That name doesn’t belong to this Spirit, although the Spirit does respond to it. The Spirit of some other who knew this Tabeus, perhaps. A son, maybe, or some other close relative. The name has meaning, but it’s not the right name.”

  “But you can’t be sure?” Vatar asked.

  “Only a full exorcism will bring this Spirit out. It’s been with you a long time. It’s entwined in your memories and thoughts. Also, it seems clear that it does not wish to be revealed.”

  Mother wrung her hands. “But an exorcism—”

  Trev interrupted. “The Modgud ritual is very different from what I understand Maktaz proposed. We try to lure the Spirit out—if there is a foreign Spirit present—not force it out with pain. Still, it is not a rite to undertake lightly. The mind and body are opened and at peril from the Spirit World. Great precautions must be taken.” He turned back to Vatar. “I would need as much of your family present, to help guard you, as possible. Certainly, it cannot be undertaken without both of your parents.”

  “All this talk of guarding,” Pa said slowly. “Even you’re not sure it’s not an Evil Spirit, are you?”

  Trev turned to address Pa directly. “I am certain whatever it is, it’s not Evil. But there is always a risk in dealing with the Spirits. In dealing with one, the way may be opened for others. I ward myself before seeking answers, even from the totem Spirits of the clans. And Vatar has not had the multiple initiations that grant me protection even without those precautions.”

  “Of course we’ll help,” Mother said, taking Pa’s arm

  Trev shook his head. “Danar’s presence will also be very important, of course. But I meant Vatar’s real father. The connection of blood is very important for this.”

  Vatar looked out across the plains. He couldn’t imagine Father out here among the Dardani.

  “Father can’t come to Zeda,” Orleus said into the silence. “He would never be permitted to leave Caere.”

  “Why not?” Pa asked.

  Orleus held his hands out, palms up. “Father is a pure-blood member of the High Council. One of the three most Talented. Vatar’s farm is about as far beyond the city walls as Father will ever be permitted to go. It’s not possible to bring him here.”

  “Can’t we do it without him?” Vatar asked Trev.

  Trev shook his head. “No. I will not attempt this without both parents. It’s too dangerous.”

  Vatar grasped Thekila’s hand. Every time he thought he was about to understand this, the knowledge slipped through his fingers. How was he supposed to plan for Thekila and their child if he couldn’t be certain of his own mind? “I just need to understand what’s happening to me. I can’t . . . I don’t want to go on with only guesses about what this is. Without knowing if my thoughts are even my own.”

  Trev shook his head. “I cannot answer those questions. I can tell you that everything I know tells me this Spirit means only good for you and yours. Its guidance should be welcomed.”

  “I can’t do that without knowing what—or who—it is,” Vatar said. “I don’t know what else to try.”

  “I cannot perform an exorcism without your true father,” Trev repeated.

  “And Father cannot come to Zeda.” Vatar’s shoulders slumped in defeat.

  “If the exorcism is impossible without Veleus and Veleus can’t come here, why can’t we take the exorcism to him?” Pa said. “We could all come back to Caere with you. Hold the exorcism there and then return to Zeda before the clans disperse.”

  “Do you need anything else?” Arcas asked.

  Trev shrugged. “Just a newly-built hut that no one has lived in.”

  Vatar’s eyes lit up with excitement. “That would work.”

  Trev looked thoughtful, then he shook his head,
looking at Thekila. “Not this summer.”

  “Why not?” Vatar asked.

  “Thekila’s connection with you is strong. That will be a great help. But it is too great a risk for the child she carries.” Trev gestured around the broken circle they had just used. “This rite was simple enough and the child still too small to be in much danger. Even now, I would not allow her to take part in a full exorcism. Better to wait until spring. By then, the young men who went off to be trained as shamans by my people will also return, so that the Dardani will not be left unprotected in my absence.”

  Vatar looked down at Thekila, who had put a hand protectively over her belly. He wanted answers so badly, but never at the risk of Thekila or their child. Nothing was worth that. He nodded to Trev. “I’ve waited this long. I guess I can stand to wait until next spring.”

  While the rest of Vatar’s family started back toward their horses, Thekila took hold of Vatar’s hand and held him back. Quetza, her brows arched with curiosity, stopped, too. Orleus had to choose either to let go of Quetza’s hand or stop. He stayed by her side.

  “Arcas, please stay a moment,” Thekila said when Mother, Pa, and Kiara had mounted and left. “You might be interested in this, too.”

  “What?” Vatar asked.

  Thekila didn’t answer him directly. “Trev, some of us—Quetza and I, and Vatar’s father in Caere—have wondered about something. Vatar disagrees, but you’re the expert.”

  Trev cocked his head to the side. “Wondered about what?”

  Thekila bit the inside of her lip and glanced up at Vatar before answering. “Well, some of the . . . oddities about Vatar’s magic seem to us to be an interaction between his Fasallon magic and the Dardani magic.”

  Arcas drew back a step.

  “I’ve told you, the Spirit of the Lion isn’t magic,” Vatar said.

  Thekila shrugged. “Well, what I’ve seen of it looks like magic to me. And things like the shadow of a lion appearing in your Far Speech sure seems like some kind of interaction.”

  Trev smiled in amusement. “Vatar, what do the Dardani believe about magic?”