Touched By Magic (The King's Wolf Saga)

by Doranna Durgin

  Farren eyed his grandson with disapproval. "That may well be. But you passed on a private conversation, and you owe him an apology for that."

  Tanager moaned, "He'll kill me."

  "You'll deserve it," Kacey spat. "It's no wonder he doesn't trust you—he's trying, but he won't, once he finds out about this. Or weren't you there when Reandn said it might be best to work with Farren after all?"

  Tanager slunk down to the stool. "No," he said in a low voice.

  "Son," Farren said, "There are important things happening around us, and there's no more time for you to fiddle with growing up. We cannot afford any more of your impetuous acts. Is that clear?"

  Stricken, Tanager seemed to shrink within himself. "I..." he mumbled, looking down at his toes, "I was only trying to help."

  "I know," Farren said. "I think that's the worst of it."

  "So?" Teayo said with a harrumph. "Where's this leave you, Farren? Does it change your options?"

  Slowly, Farren shook his head. "No. We still need someone to scout around Solace. I won't create half as much stir as that former Wolf First—he can't draw on his connections, and he knows it. Although for what it's worth, I have no doubt his involvement with the Keep deaths is an innocent one. And as I'll share everything I discover with him, I don't think he'll have as much call to anger."

  "He's going to be angry, anyway," Kacey pointed out.

  "I suppose he will," Farren agreed, "At this point, there isn't much I can do—short of walking away—that will make him ha—" He cut himself off, glancing sharply at the fireplace mantle. His hands, Kacey noticed, rose to make a quick dictation of movement, freezing in mid-gesture; he looked down at them, frustrated and angry.

  "What is it, old finger-twister?" Teayo asked, and it was his alarm that raised Kacey's own hackles.

  "That stone!" Farren jumped to his feet, closing on the mantle, staring at the ensourceled rock in a moment of intense concentration. He shook his head sharply. "I can't do a thing with it—get a mallet, Teayo!" And he scooped up the stone by its thong and took it outside at just under a run; Teayo, his large bulk moving faster than Kacey had ever seen, ran for the barn. Kacey and Tanager crowded together in the doorway, enmity forgotten as they stared out into the starlit yard, trying to discern the action. Teayo, a large dark figure against the grass, met Farren in front of the well. Almost immediately, Farren's voice rang out in sharp command. "Get back in the house—cover your eyes!"

  Tanager would have lingered, but Kacey had no desire to brook that voice; she pulled him in by the arm and slammed the door closed with her back against it. Her eyes were closed as Farren repeatedly ordered her father to move back, but the sudden, soundless flare of light bullied its way through her eyelids with ease.

  "Damn!" Tanager cursed beside her, his hands going to his eyes. "Can't see a thing!"

  "It's dark anyway," she flung over her shoulder as she pushed him out of the way and ran out the door. "Father? Farren?"

  "Did I tell you it was safe to come out?" It was Farren's voice, and it led her to him, faint though it was. In the darkness she found him, rising slowly from the ground. Teayo was at her shoulder in a minute, reaching over to steady his old friend.

  "Did you cover your eyes?" the big man demanded. "I'll be upset with you if you've managed to blind yourself, wizard."

  "I put my arm over them," Farren said, far too calmly. "I hope it was enough."

  "And was it worth it?" Teayo said, helping Farren to his feet. His voice wasn't gruff enough to match his words.

  "Pa-Farren?" Tanager called, worried, stumbling toward them, one hand still rubbing at his eyes.

  In the cheerfully lit doorway behind him, Reandn appeared at a dead run, half skidding, half tripping to a stop. "Farren!" he cried. "They're back! Watch yourself!"

  Farren's voice rose, still firm and calm, to ease the alarm. "No, they're not," he said, allowing Teayo to lead him toward the house; Kacey took his other arm. "We just saw to that."

  "You—" Reandn said, and moved aside so the little procession could enter; he peered out into the yard, and Kacey realized he held his knife—and that he held it with intent. "What in the Lonely Hells was that?"

  In the light, Farren's grey-shot hair and beard were clearly scorched; the damage ran across his cheekbones and blistered his lips. His blinking eyes watered and squinted, and Teayo immediately told him to close them. "Sit, keep them closed, and be still," he ordered. "I'll be back in a moment, and we'll see what we can do."

  "What happened?" Reandn repeated. He looked ready to attack anything that moved wrong, and Kacey found herself moving with slow precision, not wanting to be the one that triggered him.

  "Stupid," Farren muttered, then spoke more clearly. "When you were on the road, those men located you with a spell set into a stone. I should have destroyed that stone...but I'd hoped it could somehow help us find the perpetrator—that I might be able to draw on its source of magic. I couldn't."

  "That's what I felt," Reandn said, relaxing only a touch. "The stone." He looked at the wizard, his gaze stopping at the man's uncontrollably weeping eyes. "And you—?"

  "Smashed the stone. There was, indeed, power left to the spell."

  Tanager, his blinking finally slowed, said, "That's what we saw? What was left?"

  "Yes. I only hope I released it quickly enough—that Ronsin wasn't able to pin a direction on you."

  "Ronsin," Reandn said flatly. He gave Kacey and accusing look, and she directed his gaze to Tanager with her own, not for a moment willing to assume the boy's guilt.

  But Teayo returned before Reandn could react, shouldering him aside to reach his patient's side. "A little salve," he mumbled, almost cheerfully, "A nice cool bandage across your eyes, foolish wizard. I think we can fix you up." He glanced up and behind him, at his audience. "You children get back, go on. Time for talk later."

  Kacey plucked at Reandn's arm and at his clear resistance. "I'll tell you," she said, a whisper, beneath Tanager's protests that he wanted to stay. "Come to the kitchen."

  With a last sideways look at the scorched Farren, Reandn followed Kacey a few steps toward the kitchen. Tanager hesitated, not sure which course was the safest. He settled with peeling off through the sickroom, and presumably to the barn.

  "How'd they find out who I'm after?" Reandn demanded, as soon as they were in the kitchen.

  "Tanager, of course," she said calmly. "Listen up a minute." Distraction, that's what she needed. Besides, she had her own worries. "Rethia's not home yet. Whatever you said, you upset her good. I can't remember another time she stayed gone this late." Reandn just looked at her, the demand in his eyes not easing a whit. Kacey swallowed. "If she's not back by morning, we're going looking—you and I. It'll be good for you."

  Reandn nodded; it didn't look like he was really paying attention. He repeated darkly, "Tanager."

  "Yes, Tanager," Kacey said, trying to keep her voice light, and turning a suddenly critical eye toward Reandn. Here, in this cleanest room of the dwelling, his dirty hair and the accumulated sweat of effort and illness suddenly struck her as beyond acceptable. Besides, sometimes concentration on the mundane was a useful thing. "He eavesdropped. Farren really gave him a mouth-switching for it, too. You know, you need a bath," she said bluntly. "Just happens I have water heating."

  He stared at her, and inside she flinched, wondering if she'd stepped over yet another one of his lines—and then he laughed. Not a big laugh, but humor, all the same. "A bath," he said. "I guess I do."

  "All right," she said, as if she'd never lost confidence. "There's a small room off the end of the kitchen, you see the door? I'll bring you the water. And I'll tell you what else you missed. But I won't scrub your back." Oh, Graces, how had that slipped out?

  He laughed again, and Kacey fled.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Chapter 17

  Reandn woke with a disoriented start, instantly aware of the small body next to him, the slightly different angle of early morning light
against his lids, the slightly different feel of the mattress beneath him.

  That small body gave a small sigh, and Reandn abruptly recalled his new roommate. The boy had made it through half the night and then awakened, homesick, frightened, and inconsolable.

  At least, until Reandn joined him.

  And now the six year-old had somehow managed to take up most of the bed and light covers, even though the weight of his splinted leg anchored him firmly in place. Reandn found it simple to ease quietly off the bed—he was already halfway there.

  He stretched hugely and opened the door to let the faint morning breeze run over his face and through hair that was noticeably shorter—Rethia's ministrations, he'd been told, and pushed away a wistful memory of Dela's hands on his hair. Thanks to Kacey's blunt shove toward a bathtub the evening before, he was clean as well. His arm remained stiff and painful— but he felt awake, truly awake, as if he'd been in a daze for the past few days.

  Awake, and ready to turn back to the reason he was here in the first place. Ronsin.

  But he was no longer the only one who knew about the wizard. Thanks to Tanager, Farren, too, knew the wizard's name—even if he didn't know the details. Momentarily, his jaw tightened, but it was too early in the day to give in to anger. He let the breeze take it away, and turned his thoughts to Rethia. If she'd returned during the night, he'd missed it. And if Kacey was truly worried, she'd want to start looking early. Reandn gave the barn a thoughtful look and idled over the decision to saddle Sky.

  Behind him came the slight scuff of a bare foot against the plank floor, a whisper of material. Kacey, he thought, or Rethia, returned.

  But it was Farren who greeted him when he turned.

  "I guess it's true," Farren said. "You can't sneak up on a Wolf."

  "Why bother?" Reandn said, frowning. A good mood could only be pushed so far.

  The older man shrugged. "An old man's games. Teayo sent me back to wait for him—he wants another look at my eyes." His face glistened with ointments at reddened highlights on cheek and brow, and a light layer of gauze covered his eyes.

  "Does he think they've been damaged?" Reandn stepped closer, looking more carefully at what the released magic had wrought.

  "Who knows?" Farren's smile was affectionate if wry. "It's hard to decipher harummph sometimes. Myself, I'm not too worried. They're only a little sensitive to light." The smile disappeared. "It's enough to keep me from rushing off to the city, which should please you."

  Reandn didn't even try to hide it. "Like you, I'll take any advantage I can get."

  Farren hesitated, and Reandn felt the blue eyes searching him, even through the gauze. "I have to apologize about that," the wizard said. "I wanted to know how the man had made you an enemy—and I'm glad I do—but I'd have preferred to find out some other way. And, Reandn, I am truly sorry about your wife."

  "You believe it, then. That he's killed with magic."

  "I always did believe there was magic involved—how else to explain your arrival in Maurant? But I don't know how Ronsin accesses it—and that's all I've wanted, right from the start."

  As if Reandn could possibly want to help another wizard find magic. He took a deep breath, but said none of the things that immediately came to mind. There was no reason to cheapen the sincerity of Farren's words. And...there were questions he had, final doubts about what Ronsin had done to him—and to Adela. His voice hitting grit but remarkably even, he said, "There are things I have to know. Maybe...you can help me."

  "If I can," Farren responded, his voice just as even, as if he knew that even the faintest sign of triumph at this request would destroy any chance at working with Reandn.

  "I don't understand what happened to Dela. And...I don't understand why Ronsin didn't do the same to me." He swallowed, amazed it could hurt so much, physically, just to say a few words. "Ronsin had us both, but he killed—" He worked his jaw and tried coming at it a different way. "But he sent me to Maurant."

  Farren asked gently, "What makes you so sure he didn't merely send her elsewhere, as well?"

  Reandn shook his head, even though he longed to be told he was wrong. "Four gone before her, and no reason at all to send any of them away; besides, none of them showed up elsewhere. And...there was the way Dela just...faded. She had metal on her, the binding of a book and her ring. They were left behind." Just like the boy's unicorn halter. "But the ring—and my knives—came with me." He stopped, seeing it again in his mind, and recalling with clarity the awful recognition of Adela's not-being. "I felt her go," he added softly. He didn't mention that he'd seen her since.

  Farren shook his head, his brows drawn above the gauze and his expression troubled. "I'm afraid I can help you make some sense of that," he said. "And I'm sorry to say you're right. Your wife—and the others, if Ronsin used the same technique on them—are indeed gone."

  Reandn looked away, out the door and into the fresh sunlight splashing long shadows between house and barn. He'd known it. He'd never doubted it. So it shouldn't feel this way to hear it from someone else. It shouldn't.

  After a moment, Farren spoke again; his voice took on an impersonal note, as if he understood it was the only way to get them past this moment. Behind the gauze, his blue eyes were closed. And for the first time, his words lacked a sense of dominance, the authoritative note that so easily sent Reandn's hackles up. "Everything in our world is filled with a certain amount of power; it is that which binds us together, and which makes a rock a rock instead of sand. Some things are more tightly bound than others—metal, for instance. When this power is... stolen, the binding is gone and the object disperses." He paused a moment, waiting, giving Reandn the chance to ask questions. But Reandn said nothing. "Unbinding is a difficult spell for even the highest caliber of magic-user. The site and the wizard must be properly prepared. Ronsin apparently decided he didn't have the time to waste with you."

  Reandn shook his head. Trust a wizard to turn such a straightforward thing as killing into complexities of magic. "There are far simpler ways to kill."

  "I doubt his goal was the killing. I think he was bringing in a harvest."

  For a moment the words made no sense. A harvest, from death? From unbinding, as Farren had called it? Or was that it? "The binding power," he said. "He was taking their binding power and using it for himself, wasn't he? That's where he was getting his magic."

  The wizard's watering eyes opened; he turned his back on the sunshine. Eventually he shook his head. "Not initially. It takes magic to set up any major spell, which means he has indeed found another source. But he must have been supplementing that source. That spell is...prohibited."

  "Of course," Reandn said dryly. And if a wizard was disinclined to follow the rules, what would stop him then?

  But why Dela?

  No, he knew the answer to that. She had figured out what was going on. She had believed in the magic long before Reandn. "He must have had time to set up the unbinding spell...and then I showed up."

  "The energy from her death would have left him well able to deal with you, not that he appears to have put much thought into the matter. No doubt he found you very threatening."

  "With good reason," Reandn said, and showed his teeth.

  But Farren wasn't paying attention; he was still following the logic of Reandn's arrival in Maurant. "I doubt he had any idea where you'd end up—though there used to be a translocation station near where you arrived."

  "And the ring? She left it behind, but it came with me."

  "Metal is held together too tightly to succumb to the same spell that will unbind flesh. You end up putting more into it than you get out." Farren took a deep breath, shook his head; one hand came up to lightly touch the protective covering over his eyes. "He must be stopped. If he's continuing to perform such high level spells, I'm surprised he's been able to hide it for this long."

  "Maybe he hasn't," Reandn suggested, a touch of revenge-lust creeping into his voice. "Maybe we should find out if any one else i
s missing."

  Farren's face was as grim as Reandn's voice. "I'm afraid I think you're right."

  ~~~~~

  Kacey offered her mare a nubbin of dried winter carrot and reached for the bridle looped over a corral post. The horse—it was more of a pony, really, a saucy, sturdy black mare who suited her perfectly—opened her mouth for the bit and then shook her head, pulling the throatlatch buckle from Kacey's fingers. "Be still," she told the creature. It'd be easier to do this if she wasn't also watching Reandn from the corner of her eye, ensuring herself that he really was ready to return to the activity he obviously craved.

  He stood within the barn, dealing with the leggy bay horse who had saved his life. She winced as his arm gave way, thumping the saddle down and sending the creature skittering reproachfully across the aisle. Reandn followed with a curse.

  Kacey leaned against the corral and waited for him, refusing to feel remorse and gently pushing away the mare's nose as it quested for the rest of the carrot in her pocket. Besides, she told to herself, you're the reason Rethia's stayed away so long. The ride might very well be a strain on him, but if Rethia wasn't in her meadow, it would be time to worry, and Kacey wanted all the help she could get in finding her.

  Reandn maneuvered the bridle into place and, with clumsy skill, tickled Sky's lip. The bay flicked his ear in annoyance and took the bit. "Try not to look like you're enjoying this," he grunted, glancing in Kacey's direction.

  She made no attempt to straighten out her expression, but her voice stayed matter-of-fact. "Rethia's meadow isn't too far from here. Just a bit too far for you to walk." His expression shifted through quick amusement, here and gone; it made no sense and Kacey decided to ignore it. "I have a few other places to check, but if we haven't found her by then, we'll have to go to Little Wisdom and notify the Locals." She frowned, stroking the mare's neck. "We'll probably find her asleep inside a ring of happy little wild animals."

  "I'm not sure that would surprise me," Reandn admitted. He smoothed Sky's thick black mane where it had tangled in leather reins, and led the horse out of the barn to where Kacey waited by the open corral gate. There he gave the gelding a wary look. The animal seemed calm enough to Kacey, but Reandn muttered, "Just mounting this horse after three days in a barn is going to count as adventure."