Jens stared in awe, his mouth open, his ears ringing. He had seen such a transformation twice before, from wolf to human to felfrass, but there was no getting used to it. It was amazing.
“Aur-magic!” shouted Jens’s father.
“Aur-magic! After it!” shouted the other men.
They ran out of the gathering place and toward the forest, chasing the owl, whose shape was a distant and fleeting one in the sky. Jens followed quickly. He did not think they had a chance against an owl that could change shape once more, whenever it was necessary, but he could not be sure. He had to help her escape.
“Get your bows!” shouted one of the men to the boys who were still standing.
The boys ran for their bows and arrows. Jens moved toward them, deliberately getting in their way. They fell over his feet, then cursed him for his clumsiness. He managed to break at least one bow before the boys got away.
Jens ran after them into the forest. He could see no sign of the owl, but his father shouted, “I can sense the aur-magic. This way!”
They were headed north, which was where Jens had first met the girl Liva.
Jens could not allow them to continue in that direction. He saw a bird flying overhead and shouted, “This way!” It was the wrong color and shape, but it was similar enough that at least half the party turned immediately, rushing in the other direction.
What arrows were left went to bring down that bird. It was a small hawk, and the rest of the party, including Jens’s father, came back when it was downed.
Jens stood over the still body of the hawk and felt the weight of this death on his hands. He had never killed an animal before.
And it was not his bow and arrow that had downed this one. But his intent had. He’d done it so that Liva could escape. He would have traded her for any animal in the forest, of any size. But the hawk had been beautiful. It still was, even in death.
“The aur-magicked one did not change into a hawk,” said his father stubbornly, staring at it.
“It must have,” said Jens, quietly.
“It was an owl. I saw it. And far whiter than this one.”
“You must be mistaken,” said Jens.
“And there is no sign of the aur-magic in this one that would allow it to change from mouse to bird,” his father went on.
But the other men seemed less interested in finding the real creature who had changed shape and more interested in enjoying their triumph.
They took up the hawk and brought it back to the village, intending for it to be stuffed and raised as a reminder to all about what happened to those who used aur-magic.
“Aur-magic,” his father muttered as they marched. “The Hunter would know the difference between an animal and a human with aur-magic. That’s what the burning is for.”
Jens shivered at the thought of Liva burning.
“We are too far north, too much away from the strong tehr-magic of the the city. Your mother wanted to come here. I never understood why. She loved the untouched forest and its wild animals, aur-magic and all. But I should have gone back the day she died. Not that it would have made any difference with you.”
“Father, I like it here,” said Jens.
“Because you can’t tell any more difference between the aur-magic and the tehr-magic than you can between an owl and a hawk,” said his father, and with a cutting hand gesture made it clear that he did not want Jens to follow him back to the gathering place.
Jens went instead to his hut, glad that he had seen the pika, but a little disappointed that he had not seen the girl. Ah well, he would not wish Liva back into the danger of the village. If he wished to see her again, he would have to go to her. Alone, without a hunting party. He wondered whether he would be able to find his way that far north safely. The animals there were not naturally afraid of humans, and he had no magic to tame them.
But as he approached his hut, he saw the owl circling overhead, and his heart pinched inside his chest. It was not that he had thought she had been harmed, but it was so good to see her again, to know that she cared for him enough to return, even after all that had happened to her. She knew that he was not like the other village men, and that made all the difference to Jens.
As soon as he thought of the other village men, he remembered her danger. He stepped out into the clear and waved urgently at the owl, thinking to send her away. Instead of obeying him, the owl flew to the ground next to his door and in a moment was in the form of a pika once again—less noticeable than a strange human girl if a villager passed by. And if Jens’s father saw her, he would know the truth and tell the others to kill her.
The pika ran up his leg, licking gently at the knee that was starting to swell. Already it strained against his leggings.
“What do you want?” Jens asked.
The pika eeped at him.
Jens tried. “You want food?” he guessed.
The pika eeped even more loudly.
Which probably meant he’d gotten it wrong.
He dared not take her into his hut in case his father returned, but they would have a little shelter in the animal lean-to. “Come here,” Jens said, beckoning.
The pika followed him into the lean-to as he sat and put his back to the wood. She danced around him as a pika, then changed at last into her human form, into Liva.
Jens stared at her, then offered her a coarsely woven blanket on the floor, embarrassed. He had remembered the awe he felt in her presence, but not the particulars of her beauty. She had dark hair and dark eyes and a quick, delicate way of moving. In some ways, she was more animal than human. But in another way, Jens thought he had never met a human who had seemed more sure of herself. Liva. He said the name again in his mind and savored the taste.
She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, then knelt at his side and put a hand to his wounded knee.
Jens tried not to wince away from her touch, and almost succeeded.
“I’ve just tried again to heal your leg with my magic,” she said after a time, “but it did not work. I do not know how to help you.”
“I have no magic,” Jens said. He could not see any reason why a girl with such power would have anything to do with him. But he felt so different in her eyes, as if she saw something no one else could—as if merely being with her made him better.
“I know,” said Liva impatiently. “But I had hoped—” She touched the leg again. Her eyes closed, and she seemed to be concentrating, but Jens could feel no change in his pain.
He breathed through clenched teeth, then heard her let out a long sigh.
She shook her head. “No. I do not understand it. How can you be so empty of magic?”
If anyone else had said the same thing to him, Jens would have taken offense. But she stared at him with complete honesty in her eyes.
“Does it matter so much to you?” Jens asked. He had been shamed by this all his life. Did it have to be the first thing she, too, thought of when she saw him?
“It matters to me because it isn’t fair. Of all humans, why should you be the one who lacks magic? Any magic, not just the aur-magic. I have tried to sneak it into you, to throw it, to press it, to hold it for you. Nothing works.”
“I’ve never had magic, and I’ve accepted that,” said Jens. “I can’t calm the animals. I can’t kill them. But there are other things I can do that are useful in the village.”
“I don’t mean—” She stopped. “I hate the tehr-magic they have here, in the village. That is not what I would want for you either.”
“Only the aur-magic,” said Jens.
She stared at him. “Of course. It is the true magic, the original magic. The magic that was born from the link between humans and animals. It is life itself. But humans take it and form it into what they think is useful to them. Tehr-magic.” There was disdain in her voice.
“If you could give me the aur-magic, then I would have to leave,” said Jens. “They would sense it, and the aur-magic is not tolerated here.” Though sometimes
he hated his life in the village so much anything seemed it would be better.
“Do you know what happened? How you lost all sense for magic?”
Jens shrugged. “I was born this way. I used to think my lack of magic must have come from my mother. She died when I was born. But my father has told me so often that I would be a disappointment to her. So there must be a different reason. I wonder sometimes—”
“What?” asked Liva.
Yes, thought Jens. I will tell her what I have never told anyone else. “If my lack of magic was what killed her. If she saw me and could not bear to live with a son who had no magic at all. Or if it was the fact that I somehow stole the magic out of her when I was born, until she died.”
“No,” said Liva softly. “That is not possible.”
“How can you be sure?” said Jens. He had not realized how much this would matter to him.
Liva pointed to a long scar on her leg. Jens noticed then how many other scars she had, running up arms and legs to the torso hidden behind the blanket.
“This one came from when I was only a few months old. I wanted to be a jay, and so I changed myself. I had used the aur-magic many times before, but not enough that I could immediately fly without falling. My mother had to come for me and carry me back to the cave in her teeth.” She turned her neck to the side and showed a row of scars there, tiny dots that looked like many rows of teeth pressed against her skin.
“Your mother?” asked Jens.
“She and my father gifted me with a great wealth of aur-magic when I was born.”
“But I thought you said—,” said Jens, feeling sick at heart.
“It’s impossible to die from giving up too much magic voluntarily. Creatures can give up what extra they have, and live with only what other animals or humans have. My mother chose to turn herself into a hound before she gave up her magic, so that she could protect me,” said Liva.
“And your father?” asked Jens.
“He changed himself into a bear so that he too could protect me as well as any other humans he believed were worthy of it.”
“He protects humans with aur-magic?” said Jens.
“Yes,” said Liva. “Because they are the most vulnerable. You, on the other hand, with your lack of magic—think of how dangerous you would be in the forest.”
“I think you are teasing me,” said Jens stiffly.
“Not at all. Without either aur-magic or tehr-magic, you would be invisible to animals. You would not even have to move silently for them to ignore you.”
Jens thought about this for a long moment. “Are you sure of this?”
“I have been testing you,” said Liva. “I am as sure as I can be. Don’t you trust me when it comes to magic?”
Jens had no reason not to trust her. And he would think about what she said. Truly, he would. But it was a great deal to take in at once—that his lack of magic might be an asset rather than a defect. That his whole life might be different, if he lived in the forest rather than a village.
Changing the subject, he said, “You are very lucky, to live in a place where you are valued.”
“Yes,” she said, with her head bowed. “Yes, I am.” Then she looked up at him and he felt as though he would be happy if he never saw another face in his life.
“I would have thought that you could heal yourself with your magic, so that you would have no scars,” Jens said, his mouth very dry.
“Ah, but what fun would there be in that? My scars remind me of stories I might forget, and every animal is proud of its scars.”
“And every human,” said Jens, thinking of his father’s pride in scars after hunting.
“Ah. Humans, too?” asked Liva. “Then perhaps I should not try again to heal your leg, in hopes that it will give you a good scar?”
“It is not the scarring I am worried about. It is the damage beneath that might lame me. Animals do not admire the infirm, do they?”
“No,” said Liva shortly. There was a flash in her eyes, and Jens knew that he had touched something tender in her, but he did not know what it was. “How can you bear to live here with the humans in this village? They are so cruel, so unnatural.”
“I suppose I have always thought this is what I deserved,” said Jens.
She shook her head. “Not what you deserve. Not at all. You should be far away from them.”
“I do not know if I am strong enough to live alone.” There. He had admitted it. She made him feel stronger, but not strong enough.
Liva smiled. “But in the forest, one is never alone. There are always creatures around. Ants, worms, gnats, beetles, if nothing else. And the sun itself, the clouds, the wind, the trees that sigh, the trickle of the water as it flows, the taste of the changing seasons.”
“And all of them apart from me. Perhaps I do not belong anywhere.”
She laughed, without a hint of sadness. “Neither do I. I like it that way. I go where I please. I am free.”
How Jens envied her. “Well, I thank you for your attempt to help me with your aur-magic,” he said. He could not bring himself to tell her to leave, however it would be to her benefit. He wanted her to stay with him through the night and into the morning, and listen to her for long hours. It was not just the information that he craved, but the way she acted toward him. He had never been treated so well before in his life.
Liva tilted her head to one side, just like an owl.
“You should keep the knee cold, to keep it from swelling,” Liva said.
His knee? Oh, yes. He had almost forgotten about it. Now the pain came back, and with it, the sense of his own limitations.
“I think I am already cold enough.” Jens had goose bumps up and down his limbs, though he was not yet shaking, thanks to the lean-to.
She bent down and tried to pack some snow around his knee, gathered from the outside edge of the lean-to.
He yelped in pain. He had seen men die from such wounds before. It was the swelling that did it, for it ran through their whole bodies.
Then she let go of the ball of snow and stared at the ground with the same look of concentration she had shown before, when she had tried to give him her aur-magic. In a moment, Jens felt a strange sensation. It was cold, but not freezing.
He pulled himself upright in surprise, but slowly relaxed into it as the pain drifted away and he could breathe again without thinking of it.
“What did you do?” he asked, staring back and forth at her and his own knee. It could not heal so quickly, surely!
“I can’t send magic into you, for some reason, but I can send it into the snow to warm it. The energy that is released is not magical, but physical. And your leg will take that.”
“Oh,” said Jens, as if he understood what she meant. The pain left him and he felt light-headed, as if he could float away. “Thank you,” he said, or thought he said, though he could not be sure. His lips had moved, but he could not seem to hear any sounds that came out of them. Or sounds anywhere.
It was wonderful.
Liva kept doing whatever she did with the magic until she could touch his knee without him noticing. It was still slightly swollen, but he found that he could walk on it normally. “You won’t regret it, now, will you? That I healed you and you’ll have no mark to remember the fight with another human?”
Jens glanced up quickly, but saw her mouth was twisted, teasing. “No,” he said. “No regrets at all.” He felt hot now, rather than cold, and was about to turn away when Liva leaned forward. He tried to turn to her to meet her kiss, but she ended up planting her kiss on his ear.
She laughed then. “I’ve heard of human kisses. My father tells stories. But they seem easier in my imagination.”
Jens was too flustered to speak for a long moment.
“Thank you for saving me when those men tried to kill me,” said Liva, with a step backward.
“You saved yourself,” Jens whispered.
“I think not entirely. If I had, then those men would still be in t
he forest, chasing after me. And they are not. You are one who gives life rather than taking it. Do you see how you stand above the others?”
Jens shrugged.
“And you did not kill any of those animals who followed me by the river, did you? I think I would be able to smell the death on you, if you had.”
“I should have tried to save them as well,” said Jens. “But I could not think how.”
“Animals die,” she said.
“In that, we are the same,” said Jens.
“In more than that.”
Jens wondered whether she would kiss him again, but she changed back into an owl and the blanket dropped to the floor. He watched as the owl flew toward the south without turning back or making a sound. But she had been there. The improvement in his leg proved that.
He watched her fly away and turned to enter the hut. Seeing something fluttering on the ground, he bent down and picked it up. An owl feather, speckled with black and white in as distinct a pattern as the snowbird’s white threaded with silver. He turned it over in his fingers with a smile before adding it to his pouch and returning to his hut. His father would be home soon, but for now he could think of her and imagine that she was still with him.
When he woke in the morning, his father was shouting at him to get up and go to the stream for water to boil for breakfast. Jens went for it, his leg much better, and he thought of the girl who had done it and how nothing else mattered.
CHAPTER NINE
Liva
LIVA FLEW FAST, making her way south back over the river. She saw no bear tracks and felt no trace of her father’s magic. She might have to be closer to him to sense him. She hoped that he was well. She had not meant to stay that long with Jens, but time had slipped so quickly away. She could not stop thinking about the boy even now.
She tried to think of an animal form for Jens that would be fitting. He was as protective as a bear, as tender as a doe, and as smart as an eagle. He should be in a form that could soar—and he should sing, for his voice fell on her ears like music.
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