Thekila looked over at Vatar after they had eaten about half the berries she'd gathered. It seemed like he'd gotten over his earlier fear. A task within his abilities and the comfort of a full belly had steadied him. But he hadn't taken up his pipes or tried to see his probably-sleeping twins, yet. That had been his nightly ritual since he'd learned to do Distance Viewings. It wouldn't do to let him get so spooked about his magic that he wouldn't even do that. He'd come too far to shut down now. “You haven't looked in on Zavar and Savara. Are you starting to distrust your magic again?”
He pulled her close and rested his chin on her head. “I don't know. Today was strange. We're fine as we are, now. Aren't we? Between us? Do we really need more magic?”
“Between us, yes. But Quetza's right. Untrained abilities are a danger. You never know when some emergency will prompt you to try something you're unprepared for.” Thekila leaned back to look in his eyes. “Lots of people learn to shape change and then never do it again. You don't have to do it often. But you do need to learn to do it safely.”
Vatar grunted noncommittally.
“Are you going to check on the twins?”
~
Vatar reached over and pulled the traveling pack closer. He fished in it for the simple reed pipes. He was a little leery of using any magic just now. On the other hand, checking on his twins had always had a calming effect on him. Maybe Thekila was right, at least about that. He wasn't going to do any more transformations for a long time, no matter what Thekila said. But Far Speech and Far Sight were probably still safe enough—at least as long as he didn't try to see lions.
He brought the pipes to his lips and played the lullaby that always helped him to concentrate on his children. Far Sight allowed him to see them just settling down for the night. Zavar turned towards him and smiled. The little boy whispered something to Savara, who smiled, too. Vatar lowered the pipes.
If not for the twins, he'd have left with Arcas and Cestus. They'd be in Caere tomorrow or the next day. Then none of these strange things would have happened to worry him. He and Thekila wouldn't have to sneak off for a little privacy either. Not in the farmhouse he his cousin Arcas owned outside the city walls. Thekila would likely be more comfortable there, too. The neat, furnished house was much more what she was used to than a one-room sod hut. But he didn't feel comfortable taking the twins to Caere and he'd wanted more time with them.
Thekila snuggled in next to him. Vatar studied her face in the moonlight and smiled. They were here, now, and they had at least one night of privacy ahead of them. It'd be a shame to waste it. And there were definitely some kinds of magic he wasn't going to be afraid of. He raised the pipes to his lips again and played a haunting love song of the Dardani. The first music he'd ever played for her. She smiled, too, at the memory. On impulse, he sent the words to her through Far Speech while he continued to play the melody. Thekila started to sing along with his pipes. The frogs made an odd, but not inappropriate counterpoint to the music. Vatar lowered the pipes again and sang the answering male part in his light baritone. They finished the refrain together and then left the rest of the music-making to the frogs.
~
Thekila woke early. Something about the eerie quiet of the plains made it hard to sleep. Maybe it was this quiet in the early hours at home, too. But she'd always been tucked away in her house, unaware of it. Vatar, dark hair tousled, lay beside her, still sound asleep. She didn't want to disturb him with her restlessness, so she got up and went outside.
The night was already fading towards dawn. The frogs had long since ceased their love songs. Even the night insects had stopped their thrumming and the day insects had not started, yet. The air was still, not even enough breeze to move the tall grasses where the horses were hobbled. They had walked a little distance as they grazed, but now stood together with their heads down in sleep. The rumbling of her stomach was loud in the silence. Well, it was nearly morning. She might as well start the breakfast since she was awake anyway.
Thekila had just started to stir the embers of the fire to life when a mighty roar and the terrified neighing of the horses made her turn. Her heart galloped. She had an impression of a huge, shaggy shape in the near-darkness. One of the horses was pulled to the ground by the monster. Thekila screamed.
~
Vatar woke with a start at the roar and the neighing horses. He didn't need Thekila's scream to tell him there was trouble, but it made his heartbeat race even faster. He grabbed his thrusting spear and ran out of the tent. He breathed again when he saw that Thekila was all right. Following her gaze, he saw what had—appropriately—frightened her.
The hair on his arms rose up. A bear attacking the horses was very bad news. Bears were extremely unpredictable. It could turn on them at any moment. Which meant . . . Thekila was in danger. That decided him. “Get back. Climb a tree if you can. Or wade out in the waterhole. It's not too deep.”
Vatar didn't wait to see that she did as he instructed. He charged forward, yelling a wordless cry, and thrust with his spear at the bear. The monster roared as the spear bit into the tender flesh under a foreleg. Vatar pulled his spear free and ran backwards. He had to get out of range before the bear could turn and swipe him with one of those huge paws. As he stepped back, he tripped over a rock and fell on his back. Fool, use your magic. Vatar didn't have time to wonder at the strange thought. The bear was almost on him. How could he use his magic in this situation? Far Speech and Far Sight weren't going to be much help. That only left . . . transformations. A bear wouldn't normally charge a full-grown plains lion.
He only had moments. That strange calm that he'd sometimes felt in times of emergency filled him. He concentrated on the black-tipped white lion and felt himself pulled into the image. He was on all fours again. Vatar wasted no time. He lifted his massive head and roared at the bear.
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 were 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 images 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 when Vatar ran past her with his spear. He'd get himself killed trying to defend her. She gasped when he tripped and fell. She wanted to run to him, but couldn't. She should do
something to help him, but what? She breathed out in relief when he took the form of the lion. Surely that would chase the bear off. Now she knew Vatar would be all right, she probably should try to find a safe place, like he'd said.
No, wait. Was the bear going to attack the lion? Vatar wouldn't be able to defend himself as a lion. The illusory lionesses appear at his sides. Good idea. She could help with that. Thekila bit her lip as she projected two more lionesses behind Vatar's. That did it.
Thekila smiled, taking a moment to appreciate the level of calm concentration it had taken for Vatar to do what he'd just done. Evidently, he wasn't that spooked about his Powers.
But then the bear turned and came right for her.
Thekila struggled to find that same level of calm concentration. If she could shape change and push herself off the ground, she could fly out of harm's way. It wasn't so easy to master the primeval fear, though. It took every bit of the discipline she had learned in almost ten years at the Academy. She flowed into the shape of the eagle with the bear practically on top of her. 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 released her shape change and 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.
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.
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.” He wasn't sure Thekila heard him. By her unfocused gaze, he guessed she was using Far Speech.
She focused on him again. “It ran off. Orleus has recaptured the horses for us, but the 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. I doubt we'll have much trouble finding it.”
They must have been waiting just outside. Thekila hadn't been alone, then, while he was out and a potentially dangerous wounded bear was out there somewhere. That was 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.
Quetza patted his shoulder. “Yes, I expected the headache. And I don't think your mother's 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 pride of lions.” His 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 mo
ve 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 out the tent flap, trying to remember exactly what he'd done. He tried to visualize exactly what had happened.
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 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. His breath started coming fast. 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.
The Shaman's Curse (Dual Magics Book 1) Page 36
