“So … you want me to pledge to the Circle, through you?”
“Not the Circle. Just to me. This wouldn’t be magically binding. It’s more like a promise to pledge later.”
“So what would it mean?”
“That no one could force you into another pledge.” That’s what he would make it mean. “I’ll protect you and I won’t let anyone delve your mind again. I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to do. You won’t have to be a spy just because of your distance hearing.”
She nodded. Looking intently at nothing, she thought about it, and Graegor focused on the link again, to find out what everyone else thought about it. Unsurprisingly, Jeff and Rose thought it was inappropriate, even if it wasn’t magically binding. Marcus and Selena, who were both of the nobility, thought that no oath should be made so hastily, and while Marcus was more worried for Brigita, Selena was more worried about what this might require of Graegor. Errie thought it was a good idea because it essentially meant another maga for Telgardia. Patrick didn’t think anyone could possibly know what the long-range consequences would be, and he was just as glad that the decision didn’t involve him and he could stay out of it.
Logan, of course, favored the idea since it’d been his. But he also admitted that when the time came for him to pledge to the Circle, he’d rather pledge to Graegor than Tabitha. This was alarming; Graegor knew that Tabitha would never agree to it. “Don’t worry about it right now,” Logan sent hastily. “We’re not talking about my pledge, here. I really do think that Brigita pledging to you would be the best way to protect her. And if she won’t do it, then we know where she stands.”
Graegor put Logan’s ulterior motives aside and turned his wordless attention to Koren. Her presence in the link had been quiet, like the trees in the background, but he would not do this if she did not agree. He needed her on his side, because Ferogin was not the only sorcerer who would not approve.
Koren’s answer was milder than he’d hoped. “If you think ‘tis right, and Brigita thinks ‘tis right, then do it,” she sent. “No one else counts.”
“Do you think it’s right? Would you do it?”
She paused, but then the sense of her grew more resolved. “I’d do it. I’d protect her.”
That was what he needed to hear. He turned back to Brigita and focused on the wine-red color of her magic. He pressed gently against it, inviting a return touch. She flinched, and he almost retreated, but then she met his eyes, swallowed, and opened her mind.
Anxiety, such strong anxiety. She was soaked in it, like it was part of her skin, part of her bones. She had been living in a constant state of high anxiety for weeks, and a constant state of only slightly milder anxiety for months before that. She woke up constantly, four or five times a night. She wanted to relax, to enjoy all the books and all the learning, but she couldn’t. Looming over all of it was Lord Pascin. He could corrode her. He could kill her. He could delve her again.
“I won’t let him,” Graegor promised.
“What if—”
He didn’t let her finish. “No matter what. I won’t let him delve you. I won’t let anyone. I will never delve you. I swear it.”
“How can you swear it? How can you know what might happen?”
“I don’t care what happens.”
“Why? Why are you—why are all of you so worried about me?”
She didn’t feel it. She honestly didn’t feel what the rest of them felt. Wordlessly, he tried to convey it, to give her the sight, or sound, or scent, or whatever it was that she needed in order to understand … understand that she had a family again.
It was hard for her to believe. He couldn’t blame her after what she’d been through, but he still asked her to trust him.
A long pause later, she sent, “I trust you.” It was more a decision than a truth.
Graegor looked at Jeffrei. “Can you give us the lines of the pledge? The L’Abbanist version?” He had attended several pledging ceremonies by now—and in fact there was another one scheduled for tomorrow, for this past term’s Academy graduates. But it had always been Contare receiving the pledges from the Telgard students, and Graegor didn’t trust himself to remember the exact words.
Jeff looked at Rose. Several emotions chased each other across both of their faces, but then she nodded, and Jeff turned back to Graegor. “All right.”
Graegor looked at Brigita, and she swallowed again. As Jeff prompted her with each phrase, she spoke aloud and sent to Graegor both at once: “I pledge my power in service to you, Lord Sorcerer. I will come when you call and I will act as you need. My mastery of motion, my mastery of speech, and my mastery of fire, I give to you. Doubt not my honor. Doubt not my honesty. With free intention and open heart, I do this in the name of our most holy God, the name of His Creation, the name of His chosen people, and the name of the One who will come again. Let it be.”
As Brigita recited the words, Graegor felt all the reservations and the objections of the others. They were not necessarily wrong. But he put the feeling into the link that this was all right. That this was right. He asked them to trust him.
Jeffrei sent the first phrase to him, and he spoke and sent in his turn: “I pledge my power in protection of you, my maga. My mastery of the wind, the earth, the water, and the fire shall be wielded in your defense. I will call upon you only as dictated by the ethics all sorcerers uphold. Doubt not my honor. Doubt not my honesty. With free intention and open heart, I do this in the name of our most holy God, the name of His Creation, the name of His chosen people, and the name of the One who will come again. Let it be.”
“Let it be,” Jeffrei murmured. Some of the others echoed him out loud, some in the link. They weren’t completely convinced, but they’d decided to trust Graegor too.
Brigita returned her gaze to her hands. “Thank you,” she murmured. Her wine-red gen seemed to blur in Graegor’s mind as she broke off their telepathic link.
After a moment, Errie sent, “So what happens now?”
No one answered. Telling Contare and Josselin, or not telling Contare and Josselin, about Brigita’s pledge and about her rogue friends … Graegor knew what he should do …
Rose glanced at Jeff, who was slumped with his eyes closed. “Are you falling asleep?”
“Usually.”
“We need to start back. Josselin and Contare told us to take Brigita to the infirmary.”
They had. But nobody got up.
Graegor knew what he should do. But he didn’t want to tell Contare about this. He knew that Contare would tell Pascin. He looked at Koren, but he knew that she felt the same way he did, and that she didn’t know what to do about it either.
“Marcus’s horse is the largest,” Rose tried again. “Josselin said that Brigita should ride double with Koren.”
“What’s the hurry, exactly?” Jeff asked.
“What’s the delay, exactly?”
“I’m still tired. I want to take a nap while they talk this over.”
“I think Rose is right,” Koren sent, reluctantly. “We should start back. I don’t want Josselin to decide to come check on us.”
“So what will you tell her?” Jeff asked.
Koren looked over at Graegor again. A line of sunlight cutting through the trees rested on her wet hair, revealing its deep red gleam. “We’ll decide on the way?” she suggested. That seemed good to him.
When they were saddling the horses, they discovered that although the size of Marcus’s saddle could accommodate both Koren and Brigita together, the stirrups couldn’t be adjusted for Koren’s height. “Someone should just lead the horse,” Koren sent after some rather frustrating back-and-forth with other horses and saddles. “‘Tis easier for me if I only concentrate on her.” She gave Brigita a boost up with her arm and her gen, and she settled the Adelard girl sideways in the front, hip pressed against the pommel. Brigita was pale with exhaustion, and she winced as she tried to adjust her seat without leaning too heavily on Koren.
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br /> “I’ll lead you,” Marcus volunteered, looking up hopefully from where he was adjusting the halter and bridle, but Graegor took the reins himself.
“You make Brigita nervous,” he told his friend bluntly in a private sending.
“I don’t mean to.”
“I know. Could you lead her horse, and Koren’s? You can follow just behind us. All right?”
Marcus sighed, but agreed, and it wasn’t too much longer before they were retracing the track. Jeffrei was first, his fatigue overcome by the rare opportunity to ride Sable, who would much rather lead the way with any rider than walk at the back without one. Rose followed them on her mare, Errie was next, and Selena and Logan led their horses while walking together. Graegor, Koren, and Brigita came next, with Marcus behind them, and Patrick brought up the rear, leading his horse and Whiskey. The afternoon was still bright, especially as the track led them west, and there was a warm and lulling quality to the slow pace and the shuffling sound of the horses’ hooves on the packed dirt.
It was only a short time before Koren’s mind touched Graegor’s. “Brie’s asleep,” she sent.
Graegor realized that he’d known that. He slowed his steps further, murmuring to the horse, but Koren sent, “‘Tis fine, I got her.”
“Are you tired?”
“Me? No.” Her surprise melted into concern. “You?”
“No.”
Now she was curious. “That didn’t tire you?”
“Jeff and Rose did most of the work.”
“You were holding a lot in place.”
“So were you,” he reminded her.
“Just Brie.”
“And the earth magic.”
“Just helping you.”
Graegor thought about starting the discussion about what they should tell Contare and Josselin about Brigita. Instead, he indulged his curiosity. “What does make you tired anymore?”
She knew what he meant by “anymore”. Like him, she probably only went to bed because she had spent her prior life thinking she should be tired at night, not because she actually was. “Overdoing it,” she sent. “Too much magic, but no sleep or food.”
He knew how that felt. He’d slept for an entire day in Farre after tearing up the grounds at a cloister with earth magic—after being awake for four straight days. “Have you ever tested yourself? See how long you really can go without sleep or food?”
She hesitated, then admitted, “I’ve wondered. I doubt Josselin’d let me.”
When he’d asked Tabitha that question, she’d thought it ridiculous, so he’d never asked her the next. “So, sleep or food? If you could just have one?”
“Food,” Koren sent immediately. “I can’t believe how good the food tastes here.”
“Here?”
“On Maze Island.” But then she seemed embarrassed, and her mind drew away from his.
He looked up at her. She was adjusting her grip around Brigita’s waist, gently, to avoid waking her. Brigita’s head was slumped on Koren’s right shoulder, and the neckline of Koren’s dress was tugged up toward the pinning weight. And the pins themselves holding Brigita’s dress together in back were undoubtedly pricking at Koren’s arm. Her bodice had dried and no longer clung to her chest, but her split skirt was folded up against Marcus’s saddle, exposing her lower leg, since she had to press her knee to the horse to keep her balance. He could sense that she was using her gen for balance too, and that all in all, she was uncomfortable.
This stronger bond with her wasn’t his imagination. It was very different from what he shared with Tabitha. It was less intense, less deep, but … broader. It seemed to rest easily against him, instead of tightening anxiously around him.
Was it different for her? Why would she be embarrassed to talk to him about something like food?
He tapped their link, and sent, “I think I’d choose food, too. Have you tried lacorol?”
There was barely a pause before she sent, “The fruit or the milk?”
“I didn’t even know it came as milk.”
“‘Tis good.” She glanced at him, then away, and he returned his eyes to the road. After a moment she sent, “We didn’t have much variety, back home. Here ‘tis incredible.”
“Contare said that most sorcerers are picky eaters.” Tabitha was. Dear God, was she ever.
“I haven’t the taste sensitivity,” Koren sent.
“Contare thinks that I actually do have taste and smell sensitivity. He doesn’t, though. I think he wants Josselin to cover my training for those.”
“Josselin says you’ve the extended vision. That’d be nice.”
“Do you have any of them?”
“Hearing.” She cast a mental nod toward Brigita. “Like her.”
Should he ask her? He’d ask her. “There’s a rumor that you can overhear telepathy.”
“What’d Contare say about that?” Her tone gave no hint of an answer.
“That it’s not possible.”
“There, then.” Her tone still gave no hint of an answer.
“So you can’t?”
“Your own master said ‘tis not possible.”
“Koren.”
“You don’t trust him? Trust’s important between master and apprentice.”
She was laughing at him, and strangely, it felt good. When Tabitha laughed at him, it usually felt terrible. “Fine, then, keep your secret.”
“So …” She turned serious again. “What about this secret?”
Brigita’s pledge to him. His pledge to her. The rogue magus who had first claim on Brigita’s loyalty. “Should we tell Josselin and Contare?”
“I don’t know.” They went along in silence for a few steps before she sent, “They’ll want to delve her.”
“I promised her that no one ever would again.”
“So.” After a few more steps, she sent, “If we don’t tell them …”
“They might find out anyway,” he completed her thought.
“Which won’t go well for us,” she sent. “Or her.”
“No.”
“So maybe ‘tis better to make a stand now.”
“But it might be better to wait and see.” He could not hold back a rueful laugh. “I want to ask Contare what to do. I’m so used to asking his advice.”
“He’s very wise.”
“So is Josselin. That means we should tell them, right?”
“I still don’t know.”
He didn’t either. He stepped over a stump and saw a patch of wild strawberries. He paused to pull out a handful and offered one to Koren. She opened her mouth, and he popped in one berry, then another. “Thanks,” she sent. “We didn’t have these back home.”
He ate the other two. “They grew in big farms just outside Farre.” The name wasn’t familiar to her, so he added, “The city closest to where I grew up. Where Contare found me.”
She considered that, then asked, “What’d you think, when he told you about … you?”
“It was too overwhelming for coherent thought.”
“Jeh,” she agreed. “Before I knew it, I was being dragged along like a sled without runners.”
“That’s not … Contare didn’t do that. He insisted that I had a choice. That I had to decide to be his successor.”
“He said that?”
“He said that.”
Koren thought about that for a long time. Finally she sent, “Josselin couldn’t give me a choice. I’d have stayed home.”
“Really?”
She paused, and he realized that his disbelief might have offended her. Before he could apologize, she sent, “I liked it there.”
After a moment, he asked, “Do you like it here now?”
“I’m getting used to it. The food helps.”
“But you wouldn’t have come if Josselin hadn’t insisted?”
“Oh, I’d have. Eventually, out of duty. For me, no. I’d rather ride dogsleds than horses.” She took her hand off the saddle to pat Marcus’s horse’s, as if in a
pology. “I never wanted to be anywhere but home.”
How different that was from his own life. “You never dreamed of leaving? Seeing the world?”
“Seeing, yes, I did, everyone does. But not permanently. Just to visit.”
For some reason her phrasing made him laugh. “Ah, yes, it’s Sunsday morning, I think I’ll visit the world today.”
She didn’t answer right away, and he was suddenly afraid she’d taken his teasing badly, but then she sent, “If I leave now, I should be back before supper.”
“Unless I stop to do some shopping.”
“Yes, a schedule can be so hard to keep when visiting the world.”
Graegor realized then that they’d both been mimicking the way Tabitha spoke. Koren must have sensed how quickly his amusement faded, but she didn’t try to smooth the awkward moment. It stretched until he felt he had to smooth it. “We should decide about … this.”
“Telling Contare and Josselin.” Koren paused. “You used earth magic to hold Brie’s gen.”
“Until she could take it back.”
“‘Twas … the earth magic, it … you’re so good at it.” Suddenly she seemed overwhelmed, and she pulled back her gen, like turning her face to hide her feelings.
“Are you all right?” he asked after a moment.
“‘Tis fine.”
“You’re good at earth magic too, you know. Better than …”
“Better than you expected?”
There were drawbacks to telepathy. “Well, jeh.”
“I’ve been working on it.” She seemed more relaxed now. “But that isn’t what I, what made me … I mean, ‘tis this bond. This link. I’ve never been … connected, like this, like all of us here at once.”
“Me either.” That connection was ambient, like the warmth of the day, like the scent of the trees. Like the stars he had seen in his vision … the hundred thousand shades of white lights on the shore of the sea … the power to hold back the darkness.
Koren felt and followed the line of his thoughts. Her sending was soft. “Yes. ‘Tis strong.”
“Yes.” That’s when another thought occurred to him. “I wonder if this is how our Circle is supposed to feel.”
“I doubt it,” Koren answered, immediately and forcefully.
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