“That it comes from Evil Spirits,” Vatar answered promptly. “Clearly, the Spirit of the Lion—”
Trev held up his hand to stop Vatar. “Yes. And your ability to sense Lions comes from the Spirit of the Lion. So . . . both come from spirits, according to the Dardani, but one is called magic and the other isn’t.”
“Are you saying that the Spirit of the Lion is magic?” Arcas asked.
Trev shrugged. “I’m not sure that the word ‘magic’ is of much use. In fact, it may only serve to confuse you. A lion will still be a lion, even if you call him a cat. And you may call a raven a black bird without changing his nature. The Spirit of the Lion gives you abilities that outsiders don’t understand. I understand only as much of the abilities that come from your father as you have explained to me.” He turned to Vatar. “Yet, you are more than the parts of you that are Fasallon or Dardani—a combination that is sometimes better than either. I see no reason that these abilities should not combine in the same way.”
Arcas shifted slightly. “Then Vatar’s magic doesn’t trouble you at all?”
Trev shook his head. “No. Why should it?”
“But—”
Trev smiled slightly. “Arcas, you would call the abilities of the shaman magic, wouldn’t you?”
Arcas blinked. “Yes.”
“Yet this magic doesn’t bother you?” Trev asked.
“Of course not,” Arcas said. “That’s—”
“It did when Maktaz was the shaman,” Vatar said at the same moment.
Trev’s smile broadened to a grin. “Exactly. It’s not the ability—whatever it may be or wherever it may come from—but what is done with it that is either good or bad. As well blame the eagle for its ability to fly.”
Arcas stared off toward the village. “I . . . I think I see.”
~
The next morning, Vatar set out for his workshop. He didn’t have much work left—and none of it the engrossing work of making something new—but the repairs he had left might at least occupy his mind for a while. Crossing the square, he passed Avaza and Ariad and paused to exchange a greeting.
Avaza smiled insincerely. “I saw you and Trev and your family out at the eastern waterhole last night, Vatar. I thought I heard the word exorcism mentioned. Is anything wrong?”
Vatar drew in his breath. Avaza had already proven to be unreliable even with seemingly harmless information. He remembered what Thekila had said about dealing with Avaza, but Thekila wasn’t here. His eyes narrowed. “I’m sure you had a very good reason for being so far from the village. Alone. At night.”
Avaza’s face colored. The one-room huts and close-knit villages of the Dardani afforded very little privacy; there were many things the tribesmen couldn’t help knowing about each other. But it was considered rude, verging on dishonorable, to actually spy on your neighbors—even more so when they were conferring with the tribe’s spiritual leader.
Vatar’s smile was more like a lion showing its teeth. “But there’s no problem that need concern you. Just some left over business from last summer.” Vatar didn’t lie often because he was so bad at it, but this was near enough to the truth that he could say it without guilt.
Ariad took a firm grip on Avaza’s arm. “Fair skies, Vatar.” He almost pulled her away.
“Fair skies, Ariad,” Vatar answered, turning back toward his forge. In this case, considering his history with Avaza, he didn’t feel guilty about stretching just enough Far Sight to catch what they said to each other as they passed out of normal earshot.
“Why are you so interested in Vatar, Avaza? Are you still in love with him?” Ariad asked with some heat.
Avaza’s voice had the wheedling tone Vatar knew too well. “You know that’s not true. But we have children. What affects him, affects them. As a mother, I—”
“You shamed me, spying on my friend—the man who saved my life—that way,” Ariad said.
Avaza tossed her golden hair. “I heard Trev say the word exorcism. If Vatar is possessed, the people need to know.”
Vatar drew in a sharp breath. That was definitely not something he wanted Avaza to think—or to start spreading rumors about.
Ariad made the Eagle Clan’s warding sign, fingers curled like the talons of an eagle. “Spirits of the Eagle and Lion grant that it is not so. But if he is, then the people need to know what Trev thinks they should know. He’s the shaman, not you, Avaza. And it appears he has things in hand.”
“But—” Now Avaza’s voice sounded sulky.
“That’s an end of it, Avaza. Don’t shame me before Vatar again.”
Avaza’s voice was stubborn. “But, if he is possessed, then the twins—”
Ariad cut her off. “The twins are Lion Clan. If anything happens to Vatar—anything—they will be raised by his clan, Avaza. You know that.”
Avaza turned sulky again. “I’m their mother.”
“He is their father and the child belongs to the father’s Clan. That’s our law.”
Vatar let his Far Sight go. He knew Avaza well enough to know she would be trouble, probably in small, nasty ways. In spite of what she’d said last autumn, she never had forgiven him for taking the twins, even to keep them safe. He’d better warn Thekila at the first opportunity. Just as well they’d be taking the twins with them this year. Right now, he wouldn’t be inclined to let Avaza anywhere near them. Especially with Zavar sensing Vatar’s Far Sight.
Chapter 36: Eagles
Thekila set aside her plate. Just the smell of the meat made her queasy, now. Thankfully, Lucina had brought her some fruit earlier in the afternoon, in deference to her condition. And the plain, bland flatbread tasted better to her than it ever had. She chewed on a piece as she considered what she was about to ask. She’d been wondering about this long before Vatar told her about Avaza’s spying. “Vatar, Arcas was adopted into the Lion Clan, right?”
Vatar looked up from his food. “Yes. He stayed with my family while I was apprenticed to Lanark. He was adopted then.”
“Is it possible for an adult to be adopted, too? Say, the wife . . . life mate of a Dardani?” Thekila asked.
“More than possible,” Lucina answered. “I was adopted by the Horse Clan.” Her face clouded slightly. “All things considered, that might be an excellent idea.”
“Do you want to be adopted into a clan, Thekila?” Vatar smiled at her. “You’d have people you could turn to, if anything . . . happened to me. Family.”
She laid a hand on his cheek. He would think of that first. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. But I’d like to have a big family. And be really a part of this side of your life, too. Would I be a member of the Lion Clan, like you?”
Vatar chuckled. “No. Lion is one of the two clans you can’t belong to.”
Thekila blinked. “Why?”
“Because all of the Lion Clan are considered my brothers and sisters,” Vatar said. “I can’t choose a sister as my life mate, now can I? Mother is Horse Clan, so all of the Horse Clan are my cousins. Those are the only two Clans I can’t choose a mate from.”
“Oh. I see. Then which Clan would I belong to?” Thekila asked.
Vatar touched the spot on her throat where her amulet lay hidden under her tunic. “You could only be Eagle Clan.”
She smiled. “That would be appropriate, wouldn’t it?” She continued mind to mind. “But isn’t Avaza Eagle Clan? Would that be . . . wise?”
“No. Avaza lives with the Eagle Clan as Ariad’s year mate. But she’s a Raven.” He cocked his head to the side. “Actually, the Eagle Clan would be duty-bound to protect and believe in you over her.”
“Hmm. That could be . . . useful.” Thekila switched back to speaking aloud. “What’s involved in this adoption? What would I have to do?”
“Not much,” Danar answered. “I’d ask Larad, or possibly Vatar’s friend Ariad, to take you to the next Eagle Clan council. When it comes time to accept the new clan members, Larad or Ariad would stand for you and call you ou
t to the center of the hut. The clan and the Spirit of the Eagle will accept you and you will be tattooed with the Clan Mark.”
“The footprint of an eagle?” Thekila asked.
Vatar chuckled. “No. The Eagle Clan claim that their totem animal never touches the ground. So, of course, it can’t have a footprint. Their mark is an eagle feather.”
“Then you could trace my tattoo like I trace yours,” she said in his mind.
“Mmm, yes,” he replied. “What else is on your mind? This isn’t just about Avaza, is it? You don’t need to do this just to prove some interaction between the two . . .” He paused to swallow. “Between the two kinds of magic.”
“That’s not the only reason. I really do want to be part of this side of your life. And I’ve always wanted a big family. But, afterward, if there’s the shadow of an eagle when I bespeak you, well, that’ll answer at least some of your questions, won’t it?”
“What if you start hearing a voice, too?”
“Well, then, that will be a kind of answer, too.”
Theklan bounced in his seat. “Could I be adopted, too? The other boys are talking about getting their Clan Marks soon. So’s Kiara. I want to belong to a big family, too.”
Vatar shrugged. “I don’t see why not. The problem is the timing. I’m not sure any of the clans will be holding a council much before the end of summer. We won’t be here that long. I’m sure Arcas will want to get back to Elaria and Caslar sooner than that. And I don’t want to delay our crossing too long, either.”
Thekila knew what Vatar wasn’t saying. He wanted to get her back to Caere, where Boreala could take care of her if anything went wrong with her pregnancy. But this was important, too. “I’ll barely even be showing by then, Vatar. We can wait. Even if Arcas goes on ahead of us.”
“You might not have to. The Eagle Clan might agree to hold a special council for this,” Danar said. “It’s been done before. I can talk to the chiefs for you.”
Kiara looked up eagerly. “I could get my Clan Mark early, too.”
Danar shook his head, suppressing a chuckle. “You can wait with all the others of your age, Kiara. You’ll still be here at the usual time for the Clan council.”
Vatar chased a bite of meat around his plate and then looked across at his mother. “Would there be any problem with the initiation because Thekila is pregnant?”
Lucina’s eyes narrowed in thought. “There shouldn’t be. I’ll have a word with the Eagle Clan healers, just so they know. They might water Thekila’s cup, but that’s all the accommodation that should be needed.”
~
A few evenings later, Ariad came to take both Thekila and Theklan to the Eagle Clan’s main hut. Thekila couldn’t help some speculation about what that meant. Clearly, Ariad, at least, wasn’t persuaded by Avaza’s tales. Besides, thinking about Avaza helped her ignore the fact that, despite the cool evening air, Ariad wasn’t wearing his tunic.
Vatar laughed at her slight recoil. “I should have warned you. The men always attend Clan councils bare-chested to display their tattoos.”
Theklan stepped forward, fascinated by the tattoos. Once reassured that this was normal, Thekila couldn’t contain a certain curiosity either. The small one on Ariad’s left breast, just over his heart was clearly a feather, just as Vatar had said. By the time she returned, she’d have a similar mark. The other, on his right shoulder suggested an eagle stooping to catch its prey.
“Will I get one like that someday?” Theklan asked.
Ariad chuckled.
“Not exactly,” Vatar said, suppressing a chuckle of his own. “That’s a hero’s tattoo. The usual tattoo for an Eagle Clan man is a soaring eagle. You’ll see plenty of examples at the council.”
Theklan’s eyes widened and he looked up at Ariad with new respect. “Hero’s tattoo?”
“Ariad was part of the tiger hunt, too, when a bunch of boys killed two forest tigers. In fact, he’s being modest tonight. He was awarded one of the fangs and one of the skins for delivering the death blow to one of the beasts.”
Ariad smiled. “Same as you. None of us would have survived without the blades you made for us and the plan you and Daron dreamed up.”
Vatar shrugged. “Cestus had a part in that plan, too.” He clasped Ariad’s arm. “Thanks for this.”
The other man shook his head. “It’s the least I could do.”
Thekila and Theklan followed Ariad through the huts of the Lion and Horse Clans and into the center of the Eagle Clan enclave on the other side. They stopped in front of the Eagle Clan’s main hut. Ariad led them into the single large round room, many times the size of a family hut. Benches lined the wall around approximately three quarters of the circumference. They found seats in the front row.
The fourth part of the circumference held seats for the five chiefs of the Eagle Clan. An impressive life-size carving of an eagle in flight hung on the wall behind the chiefs. Thekila would have liked to get a better look at that. The artwork in the rendering of the feathers deserved a closer appreciation.
Since this was a special council, being held specifically for their initiation, there wasn’t much other business for the clan to consider before the ritual began. Ariad sat by them and explained what was going on for their benefit.
Despite his attempt to keep her occupied, Thekila picked up snatches of conversation from the benches around her. The words possession and exorcism figured strongly. Clearly, Avaza had been spreading rumors, whether Ariad approved or not. Well, she knew how to deal with that. Just as soon as this initiation was over.
Her thoughts of Avaza were interrupted when Ariad stood up and led Theklan out with him. Larad, one of the chiefs and Ariad’s father, stood up and beckoned Thekila forward.
Larad introduced Thekila to the clan first. An enthusiastic cheer of welcome followed. There was a burst of laughter when Ariad brought Theklan forward. It made Theklan blush, which only increased the merriment. Ariad seemed to have expected it. He laughed along with the rest and clapped a reassuring hand on Theklan’s shoulder. Soon the laughter died off, replaced by a shout of welcome.
Most of the lamps were extinguished, leaving the interior of the hut in semi-darkness. Only the lamps at the far end, where the chiefs had been sitting, were left. Complete silence fell for a moment, then a soft drumbeat, almost like a heartbeat, started from somewhere in the darkness.
Ariad and Larad left them standing alone, briefly. Thekila reached for Theklan’s hand, uneasy at the sudden change. His grasp on her hand told her he was nervous, too.
When he returned, Larad brought a large cup. “Don’t drink it too fast.”
Ariad had a similar cup for Theklan.
Theklan took a swallow and almost choked. Thekila sipped more cautiously. The drink had the same smell as the hard cider Vatar had been made to drink before getting his latest tattoo, the one that commemorated the completion of his Ordeal. It had a pungent taste and burned slightly going down, but it didn’t seem strong enough to choke on. Then again, Lucina had said something about watering her cup, hadn’t she? Maybe Theklan’s drink was stronger. Even watered, the drink left her feeling light-headed and a little blurry when she had finished the cup.
Once they’d both finished, their sponsors led them to the far end of the hut, where the eagle carving had been taken down from the wall and placed on one of the chief’s seats. Thekila was clear enough to take a long appreciative look at the carving. It had been lovingly and realistically carved from some type of golden wood. Every feather had been carefully depicted. The beak was made of horn. But the eyes surprised her. The eyes seemed to be looking at her. A closer look revealed that the eyes were highly polished stones, but they looked so real.
“Put your hand on the eagle’s head,” Larad said.
The wood felt warm and surprisingly smooth, considering the detail of the feathers. She felt a tingling sensation, creep up her arm from the wood.
Thekila followed Larad back out into the center of the
hut, while Theklan was presented to the Spirit of the Eagle. Larad motioned for her to sit on the floor of the hut. He knelt behind her, holding her shoulders. The lamps were relit as two healers came forward to give each of them their Clan Mark, the tiny feather tattoo on the left breast.
“This will be quick,” the healer said, opening Thekila’s tunic. Good thing the Valson tunics laced farther down than the more conservative Dardani version. Beside her, the other healer had pulled Theklan’s tunic up to his chin in order to work.
The healer dipped a cloth into a small bowl and swabbed the inside of Thekila’s left breast. Then she took up a long, yarn-wrapped thorn, dipping the thorn and yarn into a bowl of pigment. Working swiftly and with a professional detachment, the healer deftly created the elegant lines of the Eagle Clan Mark. Whatever the healer had used to swab her skin, it must be similar to the ointment Lucina made, because Thekila felt the pressure of each puncture, but no pain.
~
“Vatar?” Thekila said into Vatar’s mind, while he applied salve to her new tattoo the next morning. She didn’t seem to remember coming back to their hut at all. Whatever was in that drink was stronger than the wine she’d learned to drink in Caere, watered or not.
“Yes?” he answered, looking into her eyes.
“Did you sense the eagle? Like your lion?”
Vatar nodded and smiled. “Yes. It suits you.”
“That must be it, then. The two forms of magic are interacting in some way. At least that much of the mystery is solved. When we start back for Caere, maybe I can test whether I can see through the eyes of the eagles. And if there’s any change in my avatar.”
Vatar frowned slightly. “You didn’t have to do that, just for me.”
Thekila smiled. “It wasn’t just for you, although that would be reason enough.”
Vatar leaned forward to kiss her.
When he leaned back and continued applying salve to her new tattoo, Thekila asked, “Vatar, they laughed when Ariad presented Theklan. Why?”
Vatar chuckled. “It was probably Ariad they were laughing at, not Theklan.”
The Voice of Prophecy (Dual Magics Book 2) Page 25
