locations, but Bella insisted he should save his strength, no matter how
fine he felt now. Fortunately, Carver, one of Summer’s Avatars, owned
a cart and a pair of oxen he used to haul wood from the forest surround-
ing Vistichia to the city. He and Kron managed to fit all of Kron’s and
Bella’s goods in the cart, with room for Galia to ride next to Carver.
Bella and Kron walked next to the cart. While she kept an eye on
her ducks, Kron observed the changes in the city. Many people wore
something colored in addition to their brown or gray tunics or leggings.
Women wore bright scarfs over their hair or at their waist, while men
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 1 3
wrapped cloths over their wrists. Blue, green, red, and yellow appeared
in roughly equal amounts. People smiled and waved at their cart as they
passed. Even the air smelled fresher—perhaps because the street
seemed cleaner.
“Are the colors meant to honor the Four?” he asked Bella when they
halted to let another cart pass.
She nodded. “Everyone wants the favor of their God or Goddess.”
“Do you just pick One that you like?”
“No.” She smiled. “It depends on what season you were born in.”
Kron thought back, trying to remember what he’d been told about
his birth. It had been muddy, so the midwife had been delayed. “I think
I was born in the spring. Perhaps that’s why Spring’s the One who talks
the most to me.”
“Perhaps. But since spring is the first season, I think She leads the
rest of the Four.” The cart halted in front of a gate. “Here we are. Our
new home.” Bella smiled with so much pleasure he couldn’t help but
smile too.
Carver opened the gate and drove the cart through. They entered a
courtyard even larger than the one at the Magic Institute. This one dis-
played statues instead of a central garden, and rows of dirt—probably
meant for a garden—alternated with stone pathways. The house beyond
stood three stories. It wasn’t as grand as the palace, but the exterior
boasted enough carvings to keep a host of sculptors employed for a
year.
“Isn’t it lovely, Kron?” Bella asked.
“Yes, Dearest.” He hoisted as many of his supplies as he could carry
off of the cart. “Any idea where I can set up a new workshop?”
“Maybe in one of the storerooms.” Unencumbered, she darted
ahead. “Come, let me show you the place I picked out for us.”
The room she’d selected had probably not been living quarters be-
fore, more like a receiving area, but it was as big as their old home.
Bella explained that since the kitchen was big enough for all of the
women to work in it at once, she wouldn’t need space for cooking or
1 1 4 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n
storing food. “So we have even more room here than we did before.”
The cradle had been returned to a place of prominence, near the fire-
place. Kron wondered if one of the goddesses had promised Bella a
child in return for her becoming Fall’s Avatar.
Bella gave him precise instructions for how she wanted him to ar-
range their belongings, then left to help prepare supper. Kron set up
everything as quickly as he could, but he couldn’t remember all of the
details Bella had given him. Finally he placed everything off to the side
and looked for a room he could use for his workshop. All of the best
ones had already been claimed. Kron climbed up a flight of stairs and
finally found a spot at the back of the house. A pair of windows let in
the sunset, and the wooden door was sturdy enough to grant him pri-
vacy. Many of the rooms downstairs had only a cloth hanging in the
doorway. For extra privacy, Kron enchanted the door so that only he or
Bella could open it, then set up some of his light-producing artifacts in
sconces. A cushion to sit on, a low table for his work, and baskets to
hold his supplies, and he would be content.
“Kron! Kron, where are you?” Bella called from below.
It must be dinner time—and time to meet the other Avatars. Kron
braced himself before joining his wife.
“Dinner’s served in the great hall,” she said.
The great hall had clearly been designed to impress others. Appar-
ently the judge who used to live here could dine among paintings of
floggings and eye gougings without losing the contents of his stomach.
Bella grimaced and put her hand over her mouth, so Kron touched a
wall and made all of the paint fleck off. A few Avatars applauded.
Galia brought in several loaves of bread. “I think Kron deserves the
prime seat after redecorating for us,” she said.
Kron sat down at the head of a long table that had been set up in the
center of the room. Bella took the seat on his right and Galia the left.
Janno bounded back upstairs, calling for Caye and other Avatars Kron
hadn’t met. At his shouts, more women appeared carrying jars and cups
for beer. Kron sipped at his beverage until everyone had gathered. Then
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 1 5
he stood. Twelve people stared at him with varying expressions of cu-
riosity or boredom on their faces.
“Greetings, everyone. I’m Kron Evenhanded, an artificer and the
lucky husband of Bella.”
“You got lucky all right,” Janno said. His mother scowled at him
until he turned red and muttered something Kron couldn’t hear. He de-
cided to assume it was an apology.
“The Four Gods and Goddesses asked me to investigate something
in the Western Mountains. Another magic-user lives there, one whom I
have the misfortune to know.” The room was as quiet as a grave. “She
despises ordinary people who can’t use magic, but she always looks for
ways to increase her own power. I believe she’s found a way to do so,
but at great cost to everything around her.”
“What does that have to do with us?” asked a richly dressed woman
with a pointed nose. “The Western Mountains are a moon’s travel from
here.”
“Not if you’re a magician. I can create a doorway that will let you
cross from here to there in a heartbeat.”
Kron described how he’d portaled to Salth’s domain, the ball that
had attacked him, her house, and the transformation of his arrowheads
into ingots. Since Bella and Galia already knew this story, he watched
the others. Some of them faced him, listening intently—or at least ap-
pearing to. Some whispered to each other or stared into their cups. At
the end of the table, the rich woman who’d spoken earlier scowled at
him the entire time. When he finished, she said, “If you know so much
about magic, why didn’t one of the Four choose you?”
He had no intention of revealing to her how much his exposure to
star magic had changed him. “My type of magic isn’t compatible with
the Four’s,” Kron said evenly. “But I know how to find magic and iden-
tify it, and I’ve helped other magicians learn how to use their magic.
The Four Gods and Goddesses have asked me to help you learn yours
after you receiv
e it.”
1 1 6 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n
A woman with birds embroidered on her tunic glanced back and
forth between the first woman and Kron. She opened her mouth and
said something so softly Kron couldn’t hear her. “What was that?” he
asked.
She looked down at her hands before saying, “You mean we won’t
know how to use our magic? I thought that the Four would give us the
knowledge at the same time.”
“Many magicians can use some of their magic instinctively, but in
order to make full use of it, you need training.” Kron looked around.
“Any other questions?”
Galia tugged at his sleeve. “This other magician you knew—is she
really a threat to us?”
The only sound in the great hall was the slow drip-drip of the water
clock in the corner.
Kron avoided looking at Bella. If the other Avatars knew how much
Salth hated him and Bella, would they aid or reject them? Did they
know about Salth’s meeting with Winter and Spring and the threats the
three of them had exchanged? If the Four hadn’t shared that with their
Avatars, he didn’t think he should either.
“I’m the one she has the most grievance against,” Kron replied. That
was true.
The rich woman frowned. “Does that mean we’ll be in danger if
you’re with us?”
“Or the city of Vistichia?” Galia asked.
How could he answer that? Salth would have no qualms about hurt-
ing innocents to get at him—or even just to benefit herself.
The quiet woman with embroidered birds spoke up. “The Four Gods
and Goddesses told us we would help Them take care not just of
Vistichia, but the land surrounding it. Perhaps this is part of our duties:
to protect the city against hostile magicians. Why worry about this Salth
then? The Four will give us the power to deal with her.”
Galia smiled. “I think you’re right, Caye.”
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 1 7
With that, the other Avatars started conversations of their own, ig-
noring Kron. He ate what Bella put in front of him, but he couldn’t say
a heartbeat later what it was. The Avatars dismissed Salth much too
easily. He hoped they wouldn’t regret that later, but he feared they
would.
C H A P T E R T H I R T E E N
The Avatars
The next morning, after a restless night, Kron was the last one to
enter the great hall for breakfast. Everyone stared at him curiously, as
if he was wearing his robe the wrong way. When Bella brought in a big
bowl of cooked grains, he whispered to her, “What’s wrong? Why are
they looking at me strangely? Have I forgotten something?”
She studied him for a heartbeat. “You’re not wearing any color.”
“Color? What do you mean?”
“Your color to honor one of the Four.” She turned her head so he
could see the red ribbons she’d braided into her hair. He’d noticed her
doing so earlier, but he hadn’t realized the significance.
“Red is for Fall, then?” Kron glanced at the other Avatars, noting
jewelry, tunics, or other items of green, yellow, and blue. “The question
is, what color should I wear?”
Galia wore a yellow overtunic too big for her, so Kron assumed that
was Spring’s color. He’d been born in spring, and that goddess had spo-
ken to him the most, so maybe he was supposed to wear yellow. But he
wasn’t binding himself to any of the gods, so the thought of wearing
one color didn’t seem fitting. Should he wear all four colors instead?
Then he might look like the old city-king’s jester. Kron grimaced at the
image.
“White is best,” he said. “Clear crystals can split white light into all
colors, so it includes all of them. I’ll wear my robe from the Magic In-
stitute.”
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 1 9
Domina squinted at him. “Does that mean you don’t serve a single
god?”
“I’ve had the most contact with Spring, but I wouldn’t say I serve
Her.”
“Perhaps that’s best,” Galia said. “Otherwise, She’d have four Ava-
tars while the rest of the Four have only three.” She grinned. “Not that
She doesn’t deserve more...”
The general conversation broke up as each Avatar argued why Sum-
mer was superior to Fall or Winter more important than Spring. Kron
wanted to tell the others that it didn’t matter as long as the Four could
overpower Salth. The mood was too festive to allow mention of her, but
Kron discreetly checked his magic-finder every chance he could. It
didn’t change.
After breakfast, Kron donned his white robe, then refilled a spare
pouch with beads, wire, and other objects he could enchant if necessary.
While he was reviewing his supplies, thunder boomed, and the sky
darkened so quickly he had to light candles to finish his task.
Bella stood on tiptoe to look out of the window. “It seems a shame
to have rain on our investiture. I thought the God of Winter would have
given us good weather.”
Kron consulted a magic-finder and found the stone glowing red.
“This is no ordinary storm. It’s magical.”
“Magical?” She crinkled her nose. “Did Winter send it? Maybe He
means to make the rain stop right before the ceremony to show His
power.” She frowned. “I’m not His Avatar, but that doesn’t seem like
something He would do. And He’s already made it rain in very small
areas, like a patch of flowers, so why would He do this now?”
Kron didn’t respond. Instead, he studied the magic-finder, wishing
he’d enchanted it to tell him the source of magic, not just the amount of
magic in his surroundings. He had never heard of Salth experimenting
with weather magic before, but with her power being altered by the star
magic, perhaps she’d gained the ability to control weather too, not just
time. That would make defeating her even harder than it was now.
1 2 0 · S a n d r a U l b r i c h A l m a z a n
“Wait a heartbeat,” Bella said. “It’s not just rain. It’s snow…and
lightning! How can you have those two together?”
“Let me see.” Kron rushed over to the window. His magic-finder
glowed a shade brighter. He studied the sky. Although snowflakes
whirled around in the wind, he didn’t see any lightning. It didn’t mean
Bella had been wrong, but maybe the lightning had only happened once
and wasn’t important. Then again, with magic, everything was im-
portant.
Kron was about to finish getting ready when he glanced down at the
courtyard. When they’d arrived yesterday, the garden beds had been
lifeless. Now shoots of green poked up, taller than they would in any
normal season.
“Bella, do you see what I see?” He pointed at the garden.
As she looked, her eyes widened. “Well, maybe the God of Summer
is preparing His own display of magic.”
“What about the Goddess of Fall? Do you know anything about
Her?”
Bella shook her head.
“Do you think She would tell
you about something like this, or
would She keep it a surprise?”
“I...I don’t know.”
Heavy footsteps sounded outside their quarters. “Kron, Bella, what’s
taking so long?” Janno asked. “The Four are waiting for us! You
shouldn’t be—”
“We’re coming,” Kron said before Janno could continue with some-
thing crude.
When they arrived in the courtyard, Carver’s cart had been hitched
to four oxen and decorated with scarves in the Four Gods and Goddess’s
colors. The ground was dry, although the plant shoots Kron had noticed
earlier were still there, sending out leaves and buds. “Did anyone else
notice those?” he asked, pointing at the plants.
Janno grinned. “It must be a sign from Summer!”
“What does it mean?” Galia asked.
Sea so n s’ Be gin n in gs · 1 2 1
“You don’t know either?” Kron had thought the other Avatars might
have a deeper connection to their deities. “Have the Four given you any
sign?”
The Avatars searched the courtyard, then shook their heads.
“Maybe Their signs will be in the marketplace,” Bella suggested.
“Yes, of course, so more people see.” Galia struggled to climb into
the wagon. Her son came over to give her a boost. “We should get go-
ing. We don’t want to be late!”
Everyone else followed her example. Kron found himself in the mid-
dle, packed in with elbows thrust into sensitive parts of his body and
foul breath in his face. With a giggle, Bella sat in his lap—the best part
of the trip, as far as Kron was concerned.
He couldn’t see past the cart as they drove to the marketplace, as too
many other bodies were in the way. A blast of cold rain pelted them for
a few heartbeats once they left their quarters, but then the clouds broke
and sunshine poured through instead. Cheering sounded, though he
couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
“See?” Caye said. “Perhaps the God of Winter planned this all
along.”
Kron glanced at the sky, wondering if that was true. If so, what else
did the Four have in mind?
Sylva finally brought the cart to a halt. Everyone climbed out.
They’d stopped in the center of the marketplace, near the fruit sellers.
Traders and customers bartered as usual, paying Kron and the Avatars
no attention.
“What do we do now?” Janno asked.
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