The beast lurched back, startled, but then it hesitated. Vatar realized his mistake too late. This was a very large bear and obviously hungry. It might consider attacking a single lion. There was no way Vatar could deal with that. He couldn’t even walk in this form, yet, let alone fight. It’d take a whole pride scare this bear off.
Well, why not? He knew how to do that. Vatar concentrated still harder to form the images of two lionesses and project them to either side. It was harder than he expected to keep the image of all three lions equally in his mind. His limbs trembled with the effort. When he felt he had them firm, he roared again, imagining the two lionesses roaring with him. Was it the strain, or were there more lionesses than there should be?
That did it. The bear roared once, turned, and ran off, its ungainly gait made more awkward by the wound to its side. Vatar’s heart, already beating hard from the stress, sped up. The bear was running straight for the middle of the camp. And Thekila. Why hadn’t she gotten to safety?
Thekila shrieked as the bear rushed towards her. And froze.
Vatar screamed and let all the Transformations go. On all fours, and dizzy from the exertion, he couldn’t even grab his spear and run after the bear. He had to do something. Fast. But what?
Instinctively, he reached with everything in him to protect Thekila. He heard a voice in his head. This time he was sure it was a voice, not his own thought. Stop! It’s too dangerous. You’re not ready. You’re doing too much. He didn’t have time to think about that right now. From somewhere, he found the Power to deflect the bear. He didn’t know how and he didn’t care.
The bear bounced back from Thekila as if it had struck a barrier. Vatar gasped at the pain. The air was driven from his lungs as if the bear had struck him full force. His head felt like someone was driving spikes through his eyes. The last clear thing he saw was the bear shambling off away from Thekila. Relief flooded him. And then he pitched forward into blackness.
~
Thekila couldn’t move or turn away after Vatar ran past her with his spear. Her legs wouldn’t move. When she saw him take lion form and then project the image of two lionesses, she summoned enough concentration to add two more lionesses behind Vatar’s.
She exhaled, smiling. Evidently, Vatar wasn’t as spooked about his Powers as she’d feared.
But then the bear turned and came right for her.
Thekila struggled to find that same level of calm concentration Vatar had just shown. Her avatar was an eagle. If she could just shape change as he had and push herself off the ground, she could fly out of harm’s way. It wasn’t so easy to master the primal fear, though. She summoned every bit of the discipline she’d learned in her years at the Academy and still it was too late. The bear was almost on top of her. Even if she managed to take her eagle form, she’d never get airborne in time. Then the bear bounced back as if it had hit a wall and ran off in a new direction. Unbelieving, she watched it go. And turned back to Vatar just in time to see him crumple to the ground. She ran to his side, calling his name, but she got no answer.
Forcing herself to breathe slowly and deeply, Thekila probed gently, trying to reach Vatar’s mind. That should have been easy. It wasn’t. He’d come within a hair of burning himself out. He was still in there, but oh, so faint and far away.
What could she do, alone out here? Breathe. She wasn’t alone, or she needn’t be for long. She focused her thought on her friend. “Quetza!”
“What? Thekila?” Quetza sounded half awake. Thekila had forgotten how early it still was. So much had happened it felt like it should be noon, at least.
“Quetza, I need you. There was a bear. Vatar’s injured.”
That woke Quetza. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure. I think he came close to burning himself out. He’s unconscious. Come quickly.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Talking to Quetza and knowing that her friend was on her way helped settle Thekila. She looked around her. The horses had run off out of sight beyond the trees. How far could they get with their hobbles? She didn’t know and she didn’t know what to do about it. That problem would have to wait until Quetza and perhaps Orleus arrived. Orleus would know what to do. Maybe she should contact Quetza and ask her to bring Orleus along. No. That wouldn’t be necessary. Quetza had probably already woken Orleus. She’d need him to get the horses.
What else could she do? Get Vatar into the tent so he didn’t lie here in the sun. Thekila, at only about half his weight, could never lift or even drag Vatar. Not in the ordinary way. Fortunately, she didn’t have to rely on muscle for this. She had a Power Vatar lacked. She could move objects with her magic and she was very good at it. Only, she couldn’t move living objects—not directly.
She ran into the tent for one of their blankets and spread it out next to him. With difficulty, she managed to roll Vatar onto the blanket. She grabbed up his spear and tied the blanket to it across the top. It was crude, but it was enough for her to work with. Using her magic, not her hands, Thekila lifted the spear and dragged Vatar into the comparative shelter of the tent on the makeshift travois. Then she sat down beside him, and clutched his hand in hers.
Thekila was drawn out of her vigil, sitting next to Vatar’s unconscious form, by the frantic neighing of the horses. She leapt to the tent flap just in time to see a white wyvern settling on the far side of the waterhole. She ran forward to greet Quetza even as her form melted back into that of a woman.
“Sorry,” Quetza said, nodding in the direction of the horses. “But it was the quickest way to get here. I would have been quicker, if I hadn’t had to ride far enough out of Zeda not to be seen by the Dardani. Now what happened?”
Thekila told her the story as completely as she could as they walked back to the small camp.
“Three shape changes? And whatever turned the bear aside. It’s no wonder he almost burned himself out.”
After checking on Vatar, Quetza led Thekila back outside. “I don’t think he’ll wake for a while. And there’s not much to be done until he does. You go sit by him if it will make you feel better. I’ll fix some breakfast, since none of us had a chance to eat.”
“We just wait?” Thekila asked.
“Until he wakes up. Then we’ll be able to determine how severe the damage is and what we need to do about it.”
~
Vatar groaned and opened his eyes. By the light coming through the tent flap it was early afternoon. How long had he been out? He tried to get an arm under him to lever himself up. There were things he needed to take care of. Make sure of.
Thekila put her hand on his shoulder to keep him from sitting up. “Stay down. You need to rest. And the headache won’t be as bad if you stay down.”
He blinked up at her. At least she was safe. That was the biggest thing. “What happened?”
She smiled crookedly. “That’s what we’ve been wondering.”
“I meant, what happened with the bear.”
Thekila turned toward the tent flap. “Quetza! He’s awake!” Then she turned back to him again. “The bear ran off. Orleus has recaptured the horses for us, but my mare is badly injured.” She winced. “Orleus doesn’t think she’ll recover. I’m more concerned about you.”
“The bear’s wounded. I should—”
Orleus ducked into the tent, just behind Quetza. “Quetza and I will take care of the bear. Later. Its tracks are clear. Seeker will have no trouble following that trail.”
Vatar’s brows pinched together. Seeker? Oh, yes. That’s what Orleus calls the bigger and heavier of his two dogs. The one he says is trained to follow scent trails.
He breathed out. Orleus and Quetza must have been waiting just outside. Thekila hadn’t been alone, then, while he was unconscious and a potentially dangerous wounded bear was somewhere nearby. Good.
Quetza knelt beside Vatar, across from Thekila. “Okay, Vatar, I want you to very gently reach out and bespeak Thekila. Just say her name, nothing more.”
Vatar did as she asked. Nothing happened. What was wrong? This should be easy. He tried harder.
Quetza gripped his shoulder. “Don’t push too hard!”
Vatar drew a deep breath and tried again, focusing more carefully.
Thekila nodded. “Yes,” she said, both aloud and reassuringly in his mind.
“Good! You didn’t burn yourself out,” Quetza said. “With a few days’ rest, you should be fine.”
Vatar put his hand to his temple and winced. The feeling of spikes being driven into his eyes was back.
Quetza patted his shoulder. “Yes, I expected the headache. And I don’t think your mother’s excellent salve will help.”
“Burn out?” Orleus asked.
Quetza turned to him. “It’s possible. If you push your Powers beyond your capacity, you can burn them out.”
Orleus sat down at Vatar’s feet. “Permanently?”
“Sometimes,” Quetza answered. “Sometimes they return slowly. Either way, it’s not something you want to do. But Vatar didn’t push quite that hard. He just needs to rest and not try anything else,” she said the last with emphasis looking directly at Vatar, “for a few days. At least as long as the headache lasts. To be safe, maybe a day or so after.
“Now for the next question. Just what did you do? Thekila said the bear bounced back from her almost as if it had run into a wall.”
“I don’t know. I just reacted,” Vatar said.
“Go backward a bit,” Quetza suggested. “Let’s see if we can piece it together.”
“Well, I tried to use my avatar to drive the bear away. But it wasn’t enough. I added two first-level Transformations to make it look like a small pride of lions.” Vatar’s brows knitted. “I think Thekila added a couple more lionesses.”
Thekila smiled and nodded.
“Impressive,” Quetza said. “Many with more training would have had trouble doing all that, especially under pressure. Go on.”
“But when the bear turned and ran, it was headed straight for Thekila. And she just froze there. I couldn’t let it get her.”
“But you don’t have the ability to move objects with your mind. You never succeeded at distant manipulation,” Quetza said. “And, anyway, it doesn’t work on living things.”
“I didn’t move it, exactly. It felt more like I put my hand out to block it.” Vatar stared at the sky through the open tent flap, trying to remember exactly what he’d done.
Quetza rubbed beneath her ear. “Hmm. That’s what Thekila described, too. Almost as if the bear bounced off of something before it could reach her.”
“I’ve never heard of that Power before,” Thekila said.
Quetza cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowed. “Vatar’s Powers come from a different source than ours. It must come from his Fasallon heritage. Orleus?”
Orleus shrugged. “I’ve never heard of it before, either. But I’m not the best one to ask. Father would know more.”
Quetza nodded. “Well, then, we’ll find out more when we get to Caere. In the meantime, I don’t think you should try that again, Vatar.”
“Vatar is never going to do that again!” Thekila said vehemently. “It’s much too dangerous.”
Quetza shook her head. “It’s not whatever he did at the end that almost burned him out, Thekila. It was the combination. A full shape change and two illusions would be more than most fully-trained Valson could do without injuring themselves. Plus whatever else he did.”
Vatar drew in his breath. He still had no idea what he’d done, but he remembered something else. There’d been a voice, telling him not to do whatever it was he’d done. Hadn’t there? Or was that a result of this “burn out” they kept talking about?
No. He clearly remembered hearing a voice inside his head at least once, maybe twice. It hadn’t been his own thoughts. He was sure of that. It wasn’t Far Speech, either. He hadn’t felt the tingle that preceded Far Speech—and he hadn’t been required to answer to complete the connection. His breath started coming fast, which made his headache worse. Now that he thought about it without the crisis to divert him, it scared him witless, because he could think of only one explanation. He couldn’t actually be possessed by an Evil Spirit. Could he? After everything he’d gone through to prove he wasn’t.
Thekila’s hand tightened on his shoulder. “What’s wrong, Vatar?”
His eyes slid away from hers. “I heard a . . . voice, in my mind, right before I did . . . whatever it was I did.”
Thekila’s grip tightened further. “What did it say?”
Vatar swallowed. “It warned me to stop. It said I wasn’t ready.”
Quetza snorted a laugh. “Considering the consequences, there may have been something to that.”
Vatar scowled. This was not a subject for humor.
Quetza sighed. “All right, what did this voice sound like?”
Vatar started to shake his head, but stopped, wincing at the shooting pain that caused. “I don’t know. It wasn’t like Far Speech. It felt almost like my own thoughts. But it wasn’t. It can’t be.”
“Why can’t it?” Quetza asked.
“Because it said things I don’t know!” Vatar winced again. “Like it knew what I was about to do. I didn’t even know that. I still don’t know what I did.”
Quetza put a hand on his shoulder. “All right. Calm down. Getting excited about it is only going to make the pain worse. I’m sure it was nothing.”
Vatar wished he felt reassured. That voice had been unnatural. He hadn’t had time to think about it when it happened. Now that he did, it terrified him. The specter of exorcism of an Evil Spirit rose in his mind. He was supposed to have saved himself from that with the Ordeal, but now . . . . That, or he was losing his mind. In either case, the outlook was grim. He needed answers.
“It may have said something else, too,” Vatar said.
“What?”
“When I rushed out to drive the bear off with my spear, I heard or thought—I’m not sure which—that that was foolish. That I should use my magic.”
Orleus chuckled. “Well, that was only common sense. Charging a bear alone with nothing but a spear! I’m amazed you’re even here for us to worry over.”
“But—”
Orleus interrupted. “Really, Vatar. It probably is nothing. I’ve had some pretty odd experiences in battle. It does something to your mind. Don’t attach too much importance to it.”
Vatar tried to hold on to that thought. He’d been in crises before without hearing any voices, but he’d never actually tried to fight a bear all by himself before. Maybe there was something to what Orleus said. Orleus would have a lot more experience with that kind of thing than he did. It helped, but not quite enough. Deep down, he knew there was something really strange going on. The kernel of fear refused to dissolve that easily.
Chapter 4: Betrayal
Arcas pushed his tired horse just a little faster as they neared Caere, glad he’d brought only half the herd—taking the horses and leaving the cattle for Vatar to bring to Caere later. Cestus was a good rider, but his time with the Dardani clearly hadn’t taught him much about herding. Which left nearly all of it up to Arcas. He should have taken one of the good Dardani herd dogs out with him to do a share of the work. He wished his cousin better luck with the cattle, but doubted he’d have it. More numerous unskilled helpers was probably not going to actually be an advantage.
Merciful Sea Gods! He was glad to finally be home. This was the longest he’d been away since he’d been married. As a merchant specializing in trade with and through the Dardani, travel was part of his business, but Arcas didn’t like leaving Elaria alone for so long, either. Behind him, Cestus clucked to encourage his horse, too. Arcas felt a stab of guilt. Cestus had been away from his family for far longer than he had—almost a year.
Elaria was already in the courtyard when Arcas turned in at the gate of the farm he and Vatar owned jointly. Leaving the milling horses to the care of the farm do
gs, Arcas leapt off his horse and ran to her.
Elaria smiled as he gathered her into a hug. She pushed against his chest when he squeezed her closer. “Gently, Arcas.”
Arcas dropped his hands, nonplussed. “Why? You’ve never objected before.”
Elaria smiled crookedly. “I’ve never been pregnant before.”
Arcas froze. His lips parted, but no words came out. Had he heard right? “What?”
Elaria’s smile turned into a grin. “I’m pregnant. Boreala confirmed it just before you arrived. You’ll be a father this winter.”
“Boreala?” Arcas swung from shock to concern. “What’s wrong? Why did you need a Master Healer?”
Elaria’s smile turned tender. “I don’t. She was just here, so I asked. Boreala says everything is fine.”
“Here?” Arcas had a vague impression that he wasn’t making much sense.
Elaria nodded. “She and High Councilor Veleus came up to meet Cestus. They’re just over there, under the apple tree.”
Nothing was wrong. He was going to be a father. The thoughts finally penetrated. Arcas’s face split into a grin. He almost swung Elaria around, stopped himself, and pulled her close for a kiss, but not too hard.
~
Cestus smiled as he watched Arcas’s happy reunion with his wife. His turn for a reunion soon, now. He didn’t begrudge the time he’d spent trying to help Vatar through his Ordeal, even if all he’d actually been able to do was help to safeguard Vatar’s children. He’d have wanted one of his brothers to do the same for him. But, Lords of Creation, he was ready to be home with Lancera and their children. Little Arus probably wouldn’t even remember him.
He dismounted more slowly than Arcas and stretched his stiff muscles. It was still a fair walk down to the Temple precinct and farther still to his snug little house where his wife and children waited. Probably the walk would stretch out the last of the kinks from three days of hard riding.
He turned as figures moved in the shadows of the huge old apple tree that dominated the courtyard then blinked as he recognized them. “Father! And Boreala! I didn’t expect you to come all the way out here to meet me.”
The Voice of Prophecy (Dual Magics Book 2) Page 4
