The Voice of Prophecy (Dual Magics Book 2)

by Meredith Mansfield

  Arcas looked around the group. “You won’t be using magic, will you?”

  Orleus cast a quick look at Vatar. “No magic. Just straightforward weapons training. Same as I give my new recruits. None of them have much magical Talent or they wouldn’t be joining the Guard.”

  Arcas looked back toward Elaria and nodded. “It would be a good thing to know, even if I never have to use it.”

  ~

  They trained, usually in pairs, for an hour in the morning and again in the afternoon, when Orleus returned from his recruiting.

  One day when Arcas couldn’t join them because of commitments at the Merchants’ Guild, Orleus pulled Vatar aside. “While it’s just us, I’d like to try a few things with that shield of yours, if you can do it without hurting yourself. That could be very useful in a fight.”

  Vatar turned his spear in his hand. “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem to work the same way each time I use it.”

  Orleus’s brows drew down. “How many times have you used it?”

  “Just three. The time I deflected the bear from Thekila. I passed out that time, but I don’t know if it was because of the bear hitting the shield or because I came close to burning myself out.”

  “The damage you nearly did to your Powers would be enough to cause you to lose consciousness,” Quetza said.

  Vatar nodded. “Then I kept Theklan from being trampled by a bull during our crossing from Zeda. It worked, but I had the wind knocked out of me. It felt as if the bull hit me, instead of the shield. But, when I used the shield in the Council Chamber, to deflect the candlestick, I didn’t feel anything.”

  Orleus shrugged. “Maybe you’re just getting better at it.”

  Vatar shook his head. “I don’t think so. If I was getting better at it, I’d at least start to know what I was doing. It’s been mostly instinct all three times.”

  “All right,” Quetza said. “Let’s see if we can figure this out. Set the first time aside for the moment, since you remember the least about it. What was different between the last two times?”

  Vatar paced a few strides and then back. “The level of danger. Theklan could have been killed. I would only have been bruised by the candlestick. And I probably could have ducked, anyway.”

  “Yes. I also notice that in one case you were protecting someone else. And you were protecting yourself in the other.” Quetza’s brow furrowed. “If the bond between you and Thekila is serving the same purpose as the twin-bond did for Tabeus and Taleus, maybe the difference was in how Thekila reacted.”

  Thekila wrapped one red curl around her finger, unwound it, and then twisted it around her finger again while her brow furrowed in thought. “I don’t think I was even aware of it the first time until afterwards. The second . . . the second time I was terrified, both for Theklan and that Vatar would injure himself again.”

  “And the third time?” Quetza asked.

  “I was following Vatar and Theklan with a distance viewing.” Thekila smiled. “He was so impressive, standing up to the High Council like that. And when that woman threw the candlestick at him, I was so angry. I was glad that he could use the shield to deflect it. It was so much more dramatic than having to duck.”

  Quetza tapped her chin. “I see. So when you were against him using the shield, he felt the impact. And when you supported him, he didn’t.”

  “Do you think that’s the difference?” Vatar asked.

  Quetza shrugged. “I don’t know. This is all new to me, too.”

  “Well, it’s the best idea we’ve got,” Orleus said. “And it’s easy enough to test. We’ll just try it with Thekila helping you and then with her resisting you.”

  “Where?” Vatar asked. “We’re too visible out here in the courtyard. It wouldn’t help anything for Elaria to look out and see us using magic as soon as Arcas is away.”

  Orleus’s brows drew together.

  Quetza arched an eyebrow at Theklan. “There’s a relatively sheltered space behind the guest house. We might be visible to the neighbor on that side, but no one else.”

  “Good.” Orleus gathered up as many windfall apples as he could carry. “Ammunition,” he said as they all headed around to the back of the guest house.

  Vatar checked the neighboring fields, but the farmer was nowhere in sight. A little pile of apple cores and an old horse blanket indicated that Theklan, at least, had known of this spot and used it to hide out, dodging chores or lessons. That was likely how Quetza had found it, when she was looking for him. Vatar gave the boy a sympathetic smile. Too bad that Theklan’s hideout had been exposed, but this was probably the best place they could find for this kind of practice.

  Orleus gestured for Vatar to move down to the fence line. “All right, I’m going to throw one of these apples at you, Vatar. Thekila, I want you to support him, this time. Try to think the same way you did when you were watching him confront the High Council. Ready?”

  Vatar and Thekila both nodded. Orleus threw the first apple. Vatar blinked. Nothing happened when he tried to raise his shield. He ducked just in time as the apple sailed past his ear.

  “I thought you were going to use your shield,” Orleus said.

  Vatar shrugged. “I’ve only ever done it when I was scared or angry. And I’ve never paid much attention to what I was doing.”

  “Well, then,” Quetza said. “The first step is for you to learn to create the shield on demand, isn’t it?”

  Orleus gestured to his stack of apples. “This may take more tries than I’d planned on. Theklan, would you run back and get more apples?”

  Thekila crossed to Vatar and placed a hand on his arm. “All right. Try to remember what it felt like when Gerusa threw that candlestick at you.”

  Vatar nodded. What had it felt like, besides the anger? Just like the previous times, he’d raised his hand to ward off the blow and the shield had sprung up at a distance. What else? Vatar closed his eyes and tried to picture it in his mind. He’d felt something flowing through him, hadn’t he? A kind of energy that didn’t seem to come from him. Chewing his lip, Vatar raised his hand and pushed it out. “I think I’ve done it.”

  Orleus nodded and lobbed an apple towards Vatar. It bounced back about a body-length away. Orleus grinned. “All right. Harder this time.”

  “No,” Quetza said. “Let Vatar release the shield and make it again once or twice first, so he’s sure he can do it at will.”

  Orleus nodded to her. “Good idea.”

  They repeated the experiment twice more. The second time, Vatar barely got the shield up in time. On the third try he stopped the apple two body-lengths away.

  “All right,” Orleus said. “This time I’m going to throw harder, so be prepared.”

  Vatar nodded and concentrated on his shield.

  Orleus pitched the apple and then had to duck as it zinged back right for his head. “Hey!”

  Vatar threw his hands wide. “I didn’t try to do that. Anyway, Thekila’s the one who can move things with her Talent.”

  Thekila shook her head. “I didn’t do that either.”

  Quetza laughed. “Then maybe you shouldn’t support Vatar quite so enthusiastically. Or else Vatar shouldn’t concentrate so hard.”

  Orleus chuckled. “Unless, of course, you want to use the shield as a weapon as well as for defense. You could definitely surprise your opponent that way. Again. Not quite so hard.”

  Thekila and Vatar both nodded. Orleus moved to one side and threw again, so that the second apple came from a different angle. Vatar moved his shield to block this one, too, but only an arm’s length away.

  “Well?” Orleus asked.

  Vatar shrugged. “I didn’t feel anything either time.”

  “I did,” Thekila said. “I’ve never noticed it before, but I felt a kind of drain.”

  Vatar sucked in a breath. That energy he’d felt coming from somewhere else was coming from Thekila. “That’s enough. We don’t need to do this anymore.”

  Thekila stepped
forward, facing Vatar, and put her hands on her hips. “Of course we’re not going to stop now. It’s just a little pull. I’ve worked much harder than that without any problem.”

  Vatar held up his hands. “I just—”

  Thekila’s posture softened a little. “I know you just want to protect me, Vatar. But we’ll never get anywhere if we don’t keep working on this. Sometimes, you have to take a little risk to get where you want to go.” She shook her head with a smile. “It’s a good thing you weren’t around when Quetza and I were jumping off cliffs to learn how to fly.”

  Vatar spluttered incoherently at the thought of Thekila jumping off a cliff.

  Thekila gave him a mock-stern look. “What did you think? We started off by trying to jump up into the air from flat ground? We’d never have made it that way.”

  Theklan looked up speculatively at the roof of the two-story guest house.

  Quetza laughed. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. Only one of us went off the cliff at a time and we used a metal-studded harness so we could catch each other with our Powers, if we needed to.” She turned and spoke directly to Theklan. “We never tried it alone until we’d mastered flight.”

  Orleus barked a laugh, shaking his head. “All right. Let’s get back to the business at hand. If you’re ready, Thekila?”

  Thekila nodded.

  “This time, let’s try it another way, with Thekila neither supporting nor resisting the shield,” Orleus said. “See if that makes any difference.”

  Vatar nodded again and pushed out his shield again. He narrowed his eyes in concentration. He had to work harder to generate the shield. Orleus slipped to the side and threw the apple from a different angle. Vatar swung his arm to the side to block the apple just in time. He grunted when it struck the barrier.

  “How was that?” Orleus asked.

  Thekila shrugged. “About the same. Vatar?”

  “I felt it when the apple struck the shield. Not quite like it’d hit me, but I definitely felt it. And it was harder to make the shield in the first place.”

  “So, we’ve definitely established that Thekila’s support is important for this shield of yours, but not absolutely necessary,” Quetza said. “That’s some progress. Maybe we should stop now and continue another day.”

  Thekila raised her chin. “Not yet. One more test, with me resisting Vatar’s shield. Then we’ll have more information to work with.”

  Vatar nodded. Just one more time. Then he’d insist they stop for the day. He didn’t want this to be too great a drain on Thekila. He concentrated on pushing out his shield again, in spite of Thekila’s resistance. It took still more of his concentration, this time.

  Orleus pitched an apple at Vatar’s midsection.

  Vatar doubled over as the missile struck his shield. His breath escaped in an explosive “Oof!” He sagged to his knees, feeling exactly as if the apple had hit him in the solar plexus.

  Thekila started toward him and then blinked her eyes wide before dropping abruptly to sit on the ground.

  Quetza ran forward to Thekila while Orleus hurried to Vatar’s side.

  “I really think that is enough for today,” Quetza said.

  “What happened that time?” Orleus asked at almost the same instant.

  Vatar waved this off. “How’s Thekila?”

  “I’m fine,” Thekila answered. “I was just a little dizzy for a moment there. Nothing to be worried about.”

  Quetza snorted.

  Thekila shot her a reproachful glance. “All right. I was more than a little dizzy, but it’s better now.”

  “What about you, Vatar?” Orleus asked.

  Vatar put his hand down and pushed himself up off the ground. “It felt just as if the apple hit me. Hard.”

  “I didn’t throw it that hard,” Orleus protested.

  Vatar shook his head as he crossed the few steps to Thekila and helped her to her feet. “No. Not just that. There was something about the shield, too. It was hard work just . . . tiring to keep it up.”

  Thekila leaned against him.

  “Well,” Quetza said. “I suggest you don’t use your shield again unless Thekila agrees with you.”

  Vatar put his arm protectively around Thekila. “I’ll agree with that.”

  ~

  Two days later, Vatar stepped up to Theklan’s side as the Temple Guard marched past the farm yet again. Despite his training, the boy cowered a little.

  Boreala, just finishing her regular visit with Elaria looked up. “What was that?”

  “The Temple Guard,” Vatar answered. “They march past here at least once a day.”

  Boreala’s brow creased. “How long has this been going on?”

  “Since just after Vatar’s arrest,” Orleus answered. “I’m going to go down to Caere and have a word with the Captains.”

  Boreala looked over at him. “Don’t do that. I doubt it’d do any good. They’ve probably got orders.”

  Orleus sneered. “Yes. From Mother.”

  Boreala nodded. “I suspect so. It’ll be better if you let Father handle it.”

  “I’d be glad if he could make them stop,” Thekila said. “It’s annoying. And it’s not helping Elaria to relax about . . . everything, either.”

  Orleus shook his head. “Father doesn’t have the authority to overrule an order from Mother.”

  One side of Boreala’s mouth quirked up. “Do you think she got the approval of the High Council for this? I don’t. And if she didn’t, then Father can get it to stop by bringing it to the Council.”

  Orleus smiled slowly. “You’re probably right.”

  Vatar placed a hand on Thekila’s shoulder and the other on Theklan’s. “I hope you’re right, Boreala. This has gotten very old. And it’s definitely keeping both Elaria and Arcas on edge, too.”

  Chapter 21: Revenge

  Gerusa drummed her fingers on her desk in disgust. She should never have permitted herself to set the Temple Guard to try to harass Vatar. It was stupid and juvenile and she’d known it. It hadn’t done any good. And, worst of all, it had given Veleus an opportunity to embarrass her in front of the High Council. She should have known better. She did know better, if she just hadn’t let that half-blood make her so angry. She was going to have to be a lot more subtle than that to achieve her goals. That bit of petty revenge hadn’t been important enough to risk this much of her prestige on it.

  Gerusa forced herself to review the disastrous Council meetings. They weren’t pleasant to think about. But if she was going to regain her rightful position—and get her revenge—it was necessary to understand exactly where she had gone wrong.

  She really had thought the revelation of the boy’s unusual magical Talent would gain her supporters. She had been certain at least that Veleus would lose supporters over it, even if they didn’t come over to her. And she had wanted to hurt one of Veleus’s half-blood bastards at the same time. She hadn’t expected this Vatar to be able to challenge her like that in the Council Chamber itself. Nor that the other Councilors would fold so easily to the upstart.

  Her eyes narrowed. She hadn’t really cared much about Vatar before. Now, it was personal. Now, she would have to find a way to get her revenge on Vatar to salve her injured ego.

  Still, she’d clearly moved too soon and without nearly enough information. She couldn’t allow her personal animosities to lead her into another such mistake.

  Gerusa found the very existence of Veleus’s several half-blood children offensive. Their marriage had never been a love match, but Veleus didn’t have to advertise it by openly sleeping with anything in a skirt. Gerusa would have turned a blind eye to a discreet affair with a Fasallon woman like Rula. Not that she would have liked it, but it wasn’t as if she’d ever wanted Veleus in her bed every night. And it wouldn’t have been a direct insult. But all the Talentless Caerean women Veleus clearly preferred to her—that was an affront. And the bastards he had produced with them were just walking reminders. She hated them all.

/>   And, of course, she was always glad to have an opportunity to hurt Veleus, even indirectly. Quite apart from the scandal he had caused in demanding a divorce from her so adamantly, Gerusa knew that Veleus was the real obstacle that stood between her and her proper place at the head of the Council table. She should be the leader of the High Council. Everyone knew she had more Talent than anyone else on the Council except Veleus himself—and she was his equal, whether they believed it or not.

  Gerusa fumed for a moment over the memory of that long-ago defeat. She had called in every favor, influenced every member she could, to prevent Veleus from being named as leader of the High Council, knowing that, of course, she would be the next choice. Veleus had blocked that so neatly she’d had no chance to counter him. Before the High Council could reject him, Veleus had simply withdrawn, claiming that he didn’t want the position. Then he had said that the only reason he would accept would be to protect the High Council from the leadership of an unbalanced woman—meaning herself! He had proposed Amaurea as the new leader, instead. And, to prevent a rift, the Council had gone along with him, denying Gerusa the place that should have been hers.

  That was all Veleus’ fault. And Gerusa would never be able to take her rightful place at the head of the Council until she had dealt with Veleus. Even revenge was secondary to the primary goal—control of the Council. Still, she had to dispose of Veleus, somehow. He was just so hard to get to. He was nearly unassailable because of his Talent for Transformations. Sometimes Gerusa just couldn’t help using the tools that were available, like Vatar.

  Veleus seemed particularly fond of this bastard, so Vatar had been a target of opportunity, nothing more. That was where she had gone wrong. She had moved too quickly, before she knew all the facts. She would have to be more careful in the future. She would have to find a way to get more information. Then she could plan the appropriate trap for this upstart Vatar. He was more than a tool to use against Veleus, now. He had made himself a target for his own sake when he embarrassed her in front of the entire High Council. And he would pay for it.