Amaurea’s eyes narrowed. “Very well. Every other seven-day.”
Vatar nodded. “Agreed. Next time you want to speak to me, just ask.”
Vatar rose to leave. Theklan jumped up and stayed close. At a nod from Amaurea, the Guard led them back to the Entrance Hall. This time, Vatar looked more closely at where they were going. The interior of the Palace was a rabbit warren of passageways and chambers laid out with no clear plan in mind. They would never have found their way without a guide.
Chapter 17: Aftermath
Vatar paused at the wharf. The eerie calm he’d felt coming over here was wearing off and he didn’t much like the look of the white caps on the waves, kicked up by the late afternoon breeze. He didn’t think he was going to like going back across the strait at all, but there wasn’t much choice, unless he could fly. Maybe I should have changed my avatar to something that could fly after all. Though, if that bear was a sample, he didn’t think he’d be eager to Transform into anything but his clan totem, either.
Father caught up to them before Vatar nerved himself to step into the boat. As they were rowed across, Father discussed minor matters, mostly about the Temple school for Theklan and setting up Vatar’s lessons with Montibeus all the way across. Theklan asked a lot of questions about the school. The discussion at least helped distract Vatar a little from being surrounded by so much water. Father kept up on similar topics until they’d passed through the Temple Gate and were on their way up the hill toward the farm.
“What exactly happened back there, Vatar?” Father asked when they were on a quiet stretch of road with no one else around.
Vatar shrugged. “I told you I would know what to do.”
“How?”
Vatar chewed his lip. He thought he’d had just about enough magic for one day, but it was clear Father wasn’t going to let up. “I’m not sure how. I just did.”
“Was it your voice again?” Father asked.
Vatar let out his breath slowly. “No. I didn’t hear a word. I just knew what I had to do.”
“Has anything like that ever happened to you before?” Father asked.
Vatar thought back. “Yes. When I challenged Maktaz.” After a moment he added. “And when I made the spears for the tiger hunt.”
Veleus walked in silence for a little while. “Both of those things happened before you ever heard this voice of yours. Have you ever had any other strange feelings?”
Vatar looked away. “Yes. I’ve always had a sort of sense of danger. A kind of prickling between my shoulder blades.” He paused and let out a long, slow breath. “Torkaz refused to listen to me that day at the river, when the flash flood swept him to his death.”
Father nodded. “Well, Fore Sight is in our bloodline, too. And apparently you have some of that gift as well.” He stopped and waited for Vatar to turn to face him. “Maybe that explains your voice.”
Vatar blinked. Could it be as simple as that? “Is that how Fore Sight works?”
Father shrugged and started walking uphill again. “I’ve never had the gift myself. I understand it varies widely.”
When the farm came into sight ahead, Father stopped again. “A word of warning, Vatar. That was a virtuoso performance. You’ve given the High Council a lot to think about—some of which they won’t like the taste of. And not just Gerusa. When they’ve had a chance to calm down and think about it, they’ll resent it. I would have advised a more diplomatic approach.”
Vatar shook his head. “Father, I tried. I kept asking them to untie my hands. I stayed as calm and reasonable as I could. Gerusa left me no choice. It was the only language she was going to understand.”
Father shrugged. “Gerusa always has been . . . difficult.”
As soon as they came through the gate, Thekila ran to Vatar’s arms, holding him as tight as she could. “You were magnificent! But I was so scared for you!” She freed one arm to pull Theklan in, too. “And for you.”
Vatar threw his arm around Thekila and hugged her back. “You helped. I felt you following us with Far Sight.”
He stepped back to allow Theklan his sister’s full attention for a moment. The boy had been more frightened than Vatar had. He looked around the others. Orleus and Quetza stood side by side, grinning at him.
“Well done!” Quetza said.
“From what Thekila said, you sure showed Mother,” Orleus added.
Vatar blinked. He’d never really thought about it, before, but Orleus and Boreala weren’t just Father’s children. They were Gerusa’s, too.
Vatar looked to the other side, where Arcas and Elaria stood. Arcas’s smile was forced. Elaria was huddled close to him, as if for protection. Vatar’s breath caught. There could be no doubt that they knew about his magic now—and weren’t happy about it. He’d been right not to mention it before now. Or had he? Would this have been easier if he’d simply told Arcas as soon as they got back? He let his breath out. Too late now, in any event.
Vatar swallowed before speaking. “Arcas?”
“What . . .” Arcas paused to clear his throat. “What was all that about, Vatar?”
Vatar drew in a deep breath and let it out, trying to organize his thoughts. He held out his hands, palm out, wordlessly pleading for understanding. “You’ve known Veleus was my real father for three years, Arcas.”
“Yes. But I didn’t know . . . I didn’t know you had Fasallon magic. The things Thekila described . . .”
Vatar shrugged. “I didn’t know it myself until last winter.” He huffed. “I suppose I was too Dardani to admit it to myself.”
“And . . . and everyone else here?” Elaria asked, her voice breaking.
Vatar sighed. “Cestus and Orleus are my half-brothers. Part of Cestus’s trouble is because he doesn’t have very much Fasallon magic and Orleus . . . doesn’t use his much. Less even than I do. Thekila, Quetza, and Theklan are Valson. Their magic is similar to that of the Fasallon in some ways and different in others. It was something Theklan did earlier with one of those abilities that they have and the Fasallon don’t that drew the attention of the Fasallon High Council.”
Veleus stepped forward. “The High Council has promised to leave Vatar and all those associated with him alone. You have nothing to fear from them.”
“Magic itself is neither good nor evil, Arcas. Just like my strength or your talent in negotiations is neither. It’s what we do with it that’s either good or bad. It took a lot for me to finally understand that.” He held his cousin’s eyes for a moment. “For what it’s worth, Arcas, Trev knows about my magic and he doesn’t seem to think it’s anything to be concerned about.”
Arcas nodded provisionally. “It was just . . . unexpected.”
Vatar sighed relief.
“It was more than that. It was terrifying.” Elaria’s eyes were wide and her knuckles were white where she clung to Arcas’s arm. “The Temple Guard coming here.” She pointed at Thekila. “Her telling all about what was happening as if she could see it—”
“She could see it, Elaria,” Vatar said. “The same way I can see my children on the plains every night when I play my pipes. It’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Elaria glared at him. “And the things she said you did. Becoming a lion!” She made horns with her fingers, the Caerean sign against evil and ran back into the house.
Vatar’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, Arcas. I guess I should have told you about it when we arrived.” He shook his head and sighed. “Would you rather we moved into the guest house?”
Arcas glanced back toward the door where Elaria had disappeared. “I . . . No. This is your home as much as ours. Elaria . . .” Arcas broke off, shaking his head.
“Someday, she may be glad of our magic,” Vatar said and then blinked. More words that had just seemed to spill out. If this was Fore Sight, he wasn’t sure he liked it.
Arcas shrugged and turned to follow Elaria into the house.
Father clapped Vatar on the back. “They trust Boreala. Maybe I’ll as
k her to reassure them if she’s coming out soon anyway. And I might as well get back and do that. I want to spend some time in the library anyway.”
“Thank you, Father.” Vatar watched as Father let himself back out the gate.
Thekila wrapped her arm around Vatar’s back. “You know, it’s not entirely logical to trust Boreala’s magic implicitly and yet fear us for having the same or very similar magic.”
“Fear often isn’t very rational,” Vatar said.
“I think I’m beginning to understand why you’re so reluctant to tell your family about your magic,” Thekila said. “If the Caereans are less frightened by magic than the Dardani, I shudder to think what Danar’s or Kiara’s reaction might be.”
Vatar pulled her close and said nothing.
Chapter 18: Consequences
Veleus trudged up the last staircase, lugging the heavy tome and its companion scroll with him. Why had they ever decided to place the Council Chamber so high up? Yes, the view was spectacular, but the point of a meeting of the High Council was hardly to enjoy the view. He just wished Amaurea had called this meeting for a little later in the day. It was hard to be as alert as he needed to be with only a couple of hours sleep. That wasn’t good for his temper, either.
And he suspected that he would need both attentiveness and self-control before this meeting was over. He knew Gerusa too well. After yesterday’s setback, she’d be scrambling to rebuild her prestige—and she’d always preferred a preemptive strike to merely countering her opponent’s move. Yes, she’d suffered a defeat and some embarrassment, but she still had a sizeable bloc of Councilors willing to follow her lead. Combined with her own personal power, based on her undeniable Talent, that gave her influence he couldn’t afford to take lightly.
Arriving at the Council Chamber at last, Veleus sank into his seat with a sigh, setting the book and scroll on the table in front of him.
“How long have you known about this, Veleus?” Gerusa asked before he’d even properly settled into his chair.
Veleus sighed wearily. “Known about what? A great deal happened yesterday. You’ll have to be more specific.”
“How long have you known Vatar has Talent?” Montibeus asked.
Veleus turned to his friend. “If you mean what he did yesterday, I didn’t know he was capable of that. I’m not sure he knew, until Gerusa made him angry. But I had recently learned that he had Talent.”
“How recently?” Gerusa asked.
Veleus shrugged. “Vatar himself only learned that he was capable of Far Speech and Far Sight last winter.”
“Lords of Creation! Less than a year and he did that yesterday?” Montibeus asked.
Veleus’s lips twitched up despite his weariness. “I suspect motivation had something to do with his rapid progress. His new wife was one of his teachers, I believe.”
Montibeus smiled briefly at that. “Ah.”
Gerusa leaned forward and tapped the table. “Still, you’ve known for several months, at least. But you didn’t inform the Council.”
Veleus turned back to her. “Gerusa, if you thought I was going to help you imprison my son, you should have known better.” He paused and drew a deep breath to help him control his temper. “Anyway, he wasn’t in Caere and I wasn’t sure he planned to return. Because of his new wife, I thought it was possible he’d stay there.”
Gerusa slapped the table hard. “So you let him come here and threaten us. You didn’t even think to warn us.”
Veleus’s eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared as he turned to face Gerusa squarely. “First, I didn’t know you had sent the Guard to arrest him until just before the Council meeting. How can I warn you about something you deliberately do behind my back, Gerusa? Second, Fore Sight is not to be considered a threat, however frightening. That has long been established. And, third, as I remember it, Gerusa, you threatened him first. It wasn’t until you proposed killing him and his family that he challenged you.”
“That’s all true.” Montibeus waved his hand. “But why didn’t you warn us of the possibility that he is the Fasallon who is not a Fasallon?”
There was a murmur of agreement around the table.
Veleus sat back. “Because I know that he isn’t. Even he told you that he isn’t.”
“But, how do you know that he’s not the one the prophecy speaks of?” Amaurea asked.
Veleus placed his hands on the book and the scroll that he’d brought with him. “Because he is foretold in a different prophecy. Or, rather, several prophecies.”
Veleus opened the thick book to a page he had marked near the beginning. “How many of you have read the Book of Prophecies lately? I have. We have based almost our entire society on just one of Abella’s prophecies. When our ancestors decided to pass themselves off as the Caereans’ Sea Gods, Abella made five prophecies concerning the Lie. Taken together, they describe almost exactly what happened here, yesterday. We ignore them at our peril.”
“What do they say?” Amaurea asked.
Rather than answer, Veleus unrolled the scroll. “I had to do a little work to piece her prophecies together in the right order. Whether it’s a copying mistake or for some other reason, they’re not in the Book in the order she made them. But the Chronicles clearly tell the correct order.” Veleus placed the scroll next to the book on the table.
“The first prophecy was so simple it might have been an ordinary guess. ‘If we do this, the Lie cannot be maintained forever.’ But the second, made a day later, expands on the first. ‘There will come a point of decision when the Lie can no longer be sustained. The choice our descendants make will determine their future’—”
Gerusa groaned loudly. “This is all a diversion. What does quoting ancient prophecies have to do with the business at hand?”
“I’m coming to that,” Veleus answered. “Or don’t you have faith in your own ancestress’s prophecies?”
Amaurea glared at Gerusa. “Go ahead. There won’t be any more interruptions.”
Veleus looked back at the page in front of him. “‘—The choice our descendants make will determine their future. One choice leads to ruin, but the other choice will lead to their greatness.’ The third prophecy describes a Harbinger. ‘When the time of decision arrives, a Harbinger will appear to lay the choice before them. These are the ways by which they will know the Harbinger. He will have been raised far from his kin and washed to them by the flood. He will be in possession of wild and ancient Talents and guided by one forgotten. He will be one of those born to be bound to another. Through her, he will reunite us with our lost half. And he will possess two kinds of magic—ours and another.’ Two days later, Abella made the fourth prophecy. ‘The Harbinger will be the subject of the decision. He will tell them what the correct choice is, if they have the sense to listen.’ Abella’s last prophecy on the subject is the one we have focused all our attention on, as if it stood alone. ‘If the wrong choice is made, one day a Fasallon who is not a Fasallon will reveal our secrets and end our rule as gods.’ It’s all there in the Book of Prophecies. Read it for yourselves.”
There was silence around the council table for several minutes. Amaurea pulled the book closer and reread the prophecies Veleus had marked.
Gerusa was the first to speak. “I take it you mean to persuade us that Vatar is this Harbinger. But I don’t see how you come to that conclusion.”
Veleus sat back and began to tick of the points on his fingers. “Vatar was raised among the Dardani, far away from us. He first came to Caere after having nearly been caught in a flash flood. After yesterday, I think ‘ancient Talents’ speaks for itself. Only yesterday, his wife informed me that she thought they were ‘binding’ each other in a way I understand to be similar to the bond between Taleus and Calpe. And I believe that the Valson he brought back with him, like the boy, are ‘our lost half’, descendants of those our ancestors split away from before they came to Caere.”
“What about guided by one forgotten?” Montibeus asked.
<
br /> Veleus shook his head. “I confess I don’t understand that one. At least, not yet.”
“And in possession of two kinds of magic?” Amaurea asked.
Veleus smiled. “Well, I’m not sure yet if it’s another kind of magic. Vatar claims not. But apparently the Dardani have what he describes as a spiritual connection with the animals that symbolize their clan. In his case, this is the lion, like the one you saw yesterday.
“Vatar is the Harbinger. And he laid a choice before us yesterday—to leave him and his family alone or else face our downfall. He told us which was the correct decision, just as Abella prophesied. It’s up to us to make the choice Abella foresaw six hundred years ago.”
“You don’t suppose he could be persuaded to help us with the Festival, do you?” Montibeus asked. “With Talent like that—”
Veleus gave a single bark of laughter. He couldn’t imagine Vatar taking part in the procession of the supposed Sea Gods. Maybe he shouldn’t say that just yet, though. “Well, I’m not going to ask him today.”
Montibeus gestured palms down. “No. No, I suppose not. But maybe after he’s had a chance to see that we keep our word?”
“Anything is possible, Montibeus. But I wouldn’t rely on it,” Veleus answered. “All of my sons inherited a certain stubbornness. Vatar not least.”
Amaurea leaned forward. “How many of these Valson did he bring back with him?”
“Only three. His wife, her brother, who was here yesterday, and a friend of his wife,” Veleus answered.
“So what do you know about these Valson?” Amaurea asked.
Veleus rewound the scroll while he thought. The Sooth Teller would know if he lied outright. That didn’t mean he had to tell everything he knew, though. If only it hadn’t been such an open-ended question, that would have been easier. “I’ve only met them twice. From what I can tell, they seem to have Talents like ours. Similar enough to be able to train Vatar. As well as this ability that the young boy displayed, to move objects without touching them.”
The Voice of Prophecy (Dual Magics Book 2) Page 14
