Beyond the Prophecy (10 page)

Theklan reined his horse in, pausing to appreciate the
peaceful oak-studded hills surrounding the Lion Clan’s autumn village. Much as
Theklan loved the plains—or, more precisely, the way the Dardani lived on the
plains—these hills felt more like home. It was a landscape he could imagine in
some of the remoter parts of the Valley.

How had he missed this beautiful place in his earlier visits
to the Dardani? No, not visits. He
was
Dardani. He’d been adopted into
the Eagle Clan. It wasn’t visiting when you came home to where you’d belonged
all along, was it? This—or anyplace with the Dardani—was his real home.

Up ahead, Kiara called back, “Are you coming, or not?
Slowpoke.”

Theklan shook his head and urged his horse to pass Kiara’s.
He’d show her for calling him a slowpoke. He whooped as he galloped past her.
It would have been more satisfying if she hadn’t slowed and turned her horse
just as he came even with her.

“Not that way!” Kiara yelled after him. “There’s a cliff!”

For just a moment, Theklan was inclined to scoff. It would
be just like Kiara to say something like that to get him to slow down so she
could pass him again. Except, she hadn’t been trying to keep ahead of him.
She’d slowed down and turned. And that sounded like real fear in her voice. He
pulled back on the reins.

Just in time. His horse stopped right on the brink of . . .
well, it wasn’t what anyone raised as close to the mountains as Theklan had
been would call a cliff, exactly. But it was likely enough of a drop to break a
horse’s leg—maybe the rider’s too. Or worse. His heart hammered in his chest at
how close they’d come.

He turned the horse away from the edge and glared at Kiara.
“You might have mentioned something like that a little earlier.”

“How was I supposed to know you’d go thundering past on the
wrong trail?” Kiara retorted.

“Because you practically
dared
me to!”

Kiara sat up straighter in her saddle. “I did not!” Then her
expression changed, eyes shifting sideways. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, right.” Theklan only half believed that. Kiara was
full of more mischief than any ten boys he’d known back in Caere—or the Valley,
for that matter. It was always a challenge to keep up with her. Small wonder he
occasionally overdid it.

Kiara glared for a moment, then smiled shyly. Why could that
smile do strange things to his insides?

“Anyway, what I wanted to show you is this way.” She started
down the little side trail where she’d turned aside as he’d galloped past her.

Theklan heaved a sigh and followed her, at a sensible pace.

They hadn’t gone far when Kiara reined in and dismounted.
The oak trees surrounding them formed an almost complete circle, their branches
sweeping too low for any horse to get through. “We have to go on foot from
here, but it’s not much farther.”

Theklan slid from his saddle and copied her in tying his
horse’s reins to a low-hanging branch. Kiara grabbed his hand and tugged him
onward, ducking under one branch and then stepping over another that lay almost
on the ground. He had to pay close attention to the obstacles in their path,
but that didn’t stop his hand from feeling unnaturally warm where Kiara grasped
it.

There was something odd about the way the wind roared
through these particular trees. Not like anything he’d heard on the plains or
elsewhere around the autumn village. Or was that his own blood rushing in his
ears? How did touching Kiara affect him like that?

Then Kiara stopped suddenly and made a broad gesture with
her free hand. “There! Isn’t that amazing?”

So, the sound he’d heard had been neither the wind nor his
own pounding blood. It was a waterfall. Not a big one. Not by the standards of
anyone who’d lived near the mountains. It was only a small stream and the drop
was only a little taller than he was. He’d seen much higher cascades, and in
springtime, snowmelt waterfalls with far more water flowing, and rocky
waterfalls that were noisier and foamier. But, for a Dardani—who rarely ever
saw a river, let alone water falling down any kind of slope, this must seem
almost like magic. “It’s beautiful.”

It was. Somehow, it was especially beautiful sharing it with
her. That was just strange. But Theklan couldn’t deny it was true. It was a
pretty waterfall, but if he’d passed it with Thekila, or Vatar, or anybody
else, he’d barely have given it a second look. They sat on the ground side by
side and just enjoyed the scenery for a little while.

Suddenly, Kiara turned her head. “We’d better go.”

Theklan reached for her hand. “It’s not that late.”

“No. But there are hunting lions nearby. And they’re coming
this way. We should get back to the horses.”

That made sense. They’d left the poor horses tied up, unable
to escape. Theklan scrambled to his feet and followed after Kiara as fast as
the surrounding oak trees permitted.

They hadn’t gone far before Kiara stopped in front of him,
turning her head toward the opposite side of the little stream. “They’ve found
other prey. The lions. They’re moving away from us, now.” She turned and
grinned at Theklan. “Sensing lions is much better than sensing eagles.”

Theklan threw his head up at the challenge. “You think so?”
Now he was going to have to show her how much better eagles could be. He hadn’t
practiced a lot of distance viewing, what Vatar and the teachers at the Temple
school called Far Sight, but he had needed to use it a little when they worked
on unblocking the shipping channel. Enough, anyway, to show Kiara a thing or
two.

He located an eagle soaring in lazy circles above them. He’d
known it was there before he looked through his connection to the Spirit of the
Eagle. Theklan used a distance viewing to join his sight with the
bird’s
. He placed his hand on a tree trunk to counter the
feeling of vertigo, looking down from such a great height. In this oak forest,
even the eagle saw mostly only the tops of the trees. That wouldn’t help much.
By the stream, though, the trees were separated far enough for the little
waterfall to be visible. And what was beyond it.

Theklan whistled in appreciation. Farther upstream was a
long lake-like pond and that was filled by an impressive cascade. Not precisely
a waterfall. The drop wasn’t steep enough for that. But the water foamed and
roiled as it spilled over and around boulders. The effect was worthy of a
mountain stream.

Theklan grinned at Kiara. “You’re wrong. Eagles are much
better than lions. Come on and I’ll show you.” He turned back toward the
waterfall, making his way between the oak trees and up the slope that would
lead to the top of the waterfall.

Kiara tugged on his hand. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“But you’ve never been here before. How can you possibly
know what’s on the other side of this slope?”

One side of Theklan’s mouth turned up even farther. “A bird
told me. An eagle.” He scrambled up the last steep bit of slope and pulled
Kiara up to stand next to him on the shores of that sparkling pond. From this
end, a slight bend mostly hid the white foam of the cascade on the far end.
Only a grassy, open shore separated them from that. Theklan pulled on her hand.
“Come on. You’ve got to see what’s on the other side.”

Kiara stood where she was, holding tight to Theklan’s hand.
“How did you know this was here?”

Theklan paused. “I saw it through the eyes of the eagle.”

She took a step back and stared at him. “You can’t do that!
No one can do that.”

“Vatar did it first, by accident. He saw through the eyes of
a lion.” Theklan chuckled. “Scared
him
, too, from what
my sister says. Then, after we were adopted by the Eagle Clan, she tried and
she could see through the eyes of an eagle just the same way.” He grimaced
slightly. “I didn’t believe her about how dizzy that made her, but it’s true.
Eagles fly really high, and they sort of spin around all the time. I wouldn’t
want to look through their eyes for very long.”

Kiara’s brows drew down. “Vatar and Thekila and you can all
do this?”

Theklan shrugged. “Thekila and Quetza say it’s because of
the way . . .” He paused, suddenly remembering Vatar’s violent reaction to
calling the connection to the totem Spirits magic. And all the admonitions
against even mentioning magic around the Dardani. But . . . Kiara had
been
there
during Vatar’s aborted exorcism. And when Vatar had told about
clearing the shipping channel and the way Montibeus had used Theklan’s Powers
afterward. She already knew. “Because of the way our magic combines with the
abilities the Spirits give us.”

Kiara looked away and spoke so softly Theklan almost didn’t
hear her. “More magic that’s been taken from me.” Her voice rose. “I want
what’s rightfully mine. I should have this, too.”

Theklan wasn’t sure what to say to that. After an
uncomfortable moment he tugged on her hand again. “Come on. At the other end
there’s another . . . well, it’s not a waterfall, exactly. But it’s almost as
good. You’ll like it.”

Kiara stood still for a moment longer. “Will you tell me
about magic?”

Theklan sucked in a breath. He wasn’t supposed to. Vatar had
hammered into him again and again how dangerous it was to talk about magic
where a Dardani might hear. “I can’t, Kiara. The Dardani—”

“I don’t mean back there.” Kiara waved her free hand back
toward the village. “But when we’re alone, like this. I want to know.”

Theklan’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

Kiara tossed her pony tail back over her shoulder. “I’m a
descendant of Taleus, too. I should have what Vatar has.” She ducked her head.
“What you have.” Her eyes came up to meet his, blazing. “I want to know what’s
been taken from me.”

Theklan took a step back from her intensity.

“Please.”

He nodded. “All right. Whenever we’re far enough away from
the others. I’ll tell you what I can.” He smiled wryly. “I wasn’t the best
student. Thekila was always complaining that I didn’t pay enough attention. But
I’ll tell you what I know.”

Kiara nodded. “Let’s go see what’s on the other side, then.
We don’t have all day. We have to get back before dark or Pa will have my
hide.”

Vatar barely had time to dismount before the twins rushed to
meet him, Zavar’s arm in a sling. He hugged both of them and then stood Zavar
off at arm’s length. “It wasn’t very nice of you to get into trouble as soon as
I was gone.”

Zavar hung his head. “Sorry, Papa.”

“Yes, well. You’ll have to wait now until Aunt Boreala says
your arm is healed. Until then, I can’t continue teaching you to ride those
ponies we brought back last summer. Or show you the right way to climb an apple
tree.”

Zavar looked up, mouth agape.

Vatar chuckled and ruffled the little boy’s hair. “What? You
thought you were the first boy in this family to get in trouble climbing trees
that were too big for him?” He forced his face into sterner lines. “But if you
try anything before that arm is completely healed, it’ll just be that much
longer before you get to ride again.” He sighed dramatically. “In that case, I
guess I’d have to teach Savara without you. After all, it’s not fair to hold
her back because you did something you shouldn’t.”

Zavar’s eyes widened in horror at this prospect. “I’ll be
good, Papa. I promise.”

“See that you are.” Vatar stood up and embraced Thekila.

You did that very well
, she said in his mind.

I had the whole ride back to recall all the ways Pa tried
to keep me out of trouble when I was their age.
 “I take it there were
no more problems while I was gone,” he said aloud.

Thekila’s expression clouded slightly. “None worth
mentioning.” She shrugged. “One of Theklan’s teachers from the Temple school
came up to ask about him. I think Montibeus was behind that. The man didn’t
seem like the kind who’d trouble himself to walk all the way up here on his own
initiative.”

Vatar sighed. “Ah. You told him Theklan wasn’t here?”

“Yes. But if it was Montibeus’s idea, I expect they’ll try
again.”

Vatar hugged her close. “Nothing they can do now. He’s safe
with my parents.” He grinned. “Kiara was delighted.”

Thekila grinned back.

Vatar rubbed his neck. “Though, she’s started wondering why
she doesn’t have magic, since she’s also descended from Taleus. She feels
cheated. I think she feels she somehow won’t be worthy of Theklan without it.”

“What did you tell her?” Thekila asked.

“What Taleus told
me.
That her
magic is still locked up and only one of Calpe’s direct descendants might have
the right kind of magic to release it.” Vatar grimaced. “I didn’t add the rest,
though. Apparently Calpe’s magic was very rare, even among the Fasallon. And
I’m almost certainly the only one of Calpe’s descendants who can use my magic.
And it seems that’s one Talent I don’t possess.”

Thekila shook her head. “She’s probably better off that way
among the Dardani.”

“I told her that, too. I don’t think she believed me.”

Savara tugged on his tunic. “Papa, come see. One of the
goats had a baby. And there are baby chicks, too.”

Vatar laughed at her enthusiasm. He’d seen plenty of baby
goats and chickens before, but he couldn’t help being swept up by Savara’s joy.
“All right. Show me this baby goat and the chicks.”

Savara squealed and danced off ahead of him.

~

The next day, Vatar paused in his work at the forge when he
felt the tingle of Far Speech. The source was unfamiliar, though. It took him a
moment to recognize the mental voice as Montibeus’s. Vatar considered rejecting
the contact. But the High Priest had the power to summon him before the High
Council. He’d really rather not have to cross the waters of the bay to the
Palace of the Fasallon—if the High Council had moved back there after the wave.
He assumed they had or he’d have heard about it. He sighed and set aside the
knife he’d started before answering.
“Yes, Montibeus?”

“I’ve been trying to contact you for days, now.”
Montibeus’s mental voice sounded peevish.

The plains must be beyond Montibeus’s Far Speech range.
Vatar suppressed a smile and answered.
“I’ve been away. What is it you
want?”

“Theklan has not returned to the Temple school.”

Vatar scowled.
“He won’t.”

“We have the power to compel—”

Vatar struck the empty anvil with his hammer. His patience for
these threats had worn thin.
“No you don’t. Not unless you want to send the
Temple Guard across the plains on the cusp of winter. He’s with my family,
among the Dardani. And don’t think that the Dardani wouldn’t fight to protect
one of our own.”
He drew a deep, calming breath.
“And don’t try to
threaten Thekila or me, either. We have the protection of the Smiths’ Guild.
Last I checked, it was the guilds who were keeping order in Caere, now. You
daren’t cross them. Any chance you ever had at further cooperation from us is
eroding fast.”
Vatar broke the contact abruptly, before his frustration
caused him to say more than he meant to. He turned to tidying up his workspace
while he tried to clear his head enough to return to his work.

He almost didn’t answer when he felt another attempt to
contact him with Far Speech a few moments later. This one felt different,
though. Not Montibeus, he was sure, but still vaguely familiar.
“Who?”
Almost as soon as he’d sent the thought, he knew.
“Quetza?! Did you mean to
bespeak Thekila?”

“Not this time. Though I hope she’ll join us. It would
save time to answer all the questions at once.”

Thekila. Quetza wants to bespeak us both.
Vatar
opened his bond to include Thekila.

“I’m here. What is it?”
Thekila joined the conversation
through their bond.

“Orleus thought you needed to know,”
Quetza told
them.
“Both of you, though Vatar most. The Themyri have returned. There’ve
been attacks on the new outposts. So far, we’ve been able to hold them off. But
. . . the Themyri are not alone. Whenever they attack, there are one or two
others. They always hang back from the fighting, but they seem to be the real
instigators. It’s easy to tell them apart. The Themyri are all dark-haired and
tanned from the sun. These others are much paler—and they all have red hair.”

Vatar sucked in a breath. He knew of only one group of
red-haired people. The Valson. Thekila’s people. His mind went immediately to
those irate Valson who’d chosen banishment over the punishment of their sons
and daughters. Punishment for their unprovoked attempt to kill Vatar.
“The
Exiles?”

“It seems likely,”
Quetza agreed.
“From what we’ve
been able to determine, the Themyri have come back from the far side of the
Kragehul Mountains. It looks like they fled south over the mountains when the
volcano erupted. The Exiles must have found them there. And subjugated them.”

Vatar blew out his breath. He could almost picture it.
“It
wouldn’t be hard. The Themyri were always superstitious. Redheads would have
been strange enough to them. But redheads who could move rocks with magic and
change shapes—they must have seemed like gods to the Themyri.”

“Vengeful gods,”
Quetza said.

Vatar nodded.
“I’m afraid so.”

“You always did say the Exiles would come back and cause
trouble,”
Thekila put in.

“Yes.”
Vatar sighed again. He’d rather have been
wrong, this time.
“I’d better alert Father—”

Quetza interrupted.
“That’s what Orleus is doing now. A
formal report to the High Council through Veleus. It’s his duty as the Captain
of the Tysoean Guard. That’s why he asked me to let you know. He thought you
should be warned as soon as possible.”

Vatar nodded, even though Quetza couldn’t see it.
“I
appreciate that.”

“Is Theklan in any danger?”
Thekila asked.
“Should
we have him alert Danar?”

Vatar shook his head, sending reassurance through their
bond.
“I don’t think he’s in any danger. Not yet, anyway. I don’t think the
Exiles could get that far across the plains in winter, even if they got past
the Tysoean Guard tomorrow, which isn’t likely. And by next year, Theklan will
be back in the Valley, at the Academy. Still, Pa should know, just in case.”

“Theklan?”
Quetza asked.
“Isn’t he with you?”

“No,”
Vatar answered.
“He’s with my family on the
plains. Caere . . . just isn’t the right place for him.”

“Well, maybe it’s for the best. At least there’s some way
to pass information to the Dardani. I’ll leave you to deal with that, then,”
Quetza said.

Vatar nodded again.
“Thank you for the warning, Quetza.
And do let us know of any developments.”

“I will.”

Vatar let that connection go and prepared to contact
Theklan. The last time he’d had this many conversations by Far Speech in one
day, he’d been training in the Academy.
“Theklan.”

“Vatar? I’m not late. I wasn’t supposed to try to bespeak
Thekila for three more days,”
the boy answered sullenly.

Vatar smiled at the immediate defense.
“I know. Something
has come up. I want you to go find Pa and Mother. Get them inside the hut,
where it’s private, and then contact me again. This is important. Something
they need to know as soon as possible.”

“What if I can’t bespeak you from this far out? Wouldn’t
it be easier to just give me the message for them?”
Theklan asked.

“No. They’ll have questions. I’m afraid you’ll have to relay
their questions to me and my answers to them, but there’s no other way to get
them the information they need.”

“But I haven’t actually tried to bespeak anyone from out
here yet. What if I can’t?”
Theklan answered.

Vatar had to wonder just what the boy was doing that he
didn’t want to interrupt. Nothing as important as this news, certainly. He drew
in a breath for patience.
“Try Thekila first. It might be easier for you to
contact her than me. If one of us doesn’t hear from you by sundown, I’ll
bespeak you again.”

“Okay,”
Theklan answered reluctantly.

~

The next day Vatar looked up from his work at the barking of
the dogs, not surprised to see his father at the gate. He set aside the spear
point he’d been about to start and went to open the gate. “Hello, Father. I
expected you’d have some questions after Orleus reported to you yesterday.”

“You know?”

Vatar shrugged. “Quetza bespoke us at the same time Orleus
told you. They thought we should know. I’ve already relayed the information to
Pa through Theklan, not that I think there’s a chance of the Exiles getting
near the Dardani during the winter.”

“So what do you know about these Exiles?”

Vatar sighed. “Come inside. Thekila probably knows more than
I do. She taught some of them.”

When they were settled around the table in the main room
with mugs of cider and a platter of fruit, Father asked again, “What can you
tell me about these Exiles. The High Council will want all the information they
can get.”

Vatar flexed his left hand, the one that had been broken when
he was attacked on the border of the Valley. “You recall what I told you about
my Ordeal? Well, three of them were among the teens who gave me so much trouble
in the Forest.”

“Only three? I thought there were . . .” Father paused to
count. “Five in that group, weren’t there? Three boys and two girls.”

Vatar twirled his mug. “Yes. Well, Keran died.” He drew a
deep breath. He still didn’t like to think about that. “And one of the
girls—Zoria—overused her avatar and was locked in it. Still is, as far as I know.
So her exile was delayed until she could be returned to her true form.”

“I’m sure Zoria was only part of that because of Loran,”
Thekila said. “She was never in any trouble until she took up with him. He was
always the worst of the lot. The ringleader.”

“So there are only three Exiles?” Father asked again.

“No,” Thekila said. “Their fathers revolted when the Valson
Council pronounced exile on Loran, Lorania, and Platan for breaking the Tenets.
They and their families all chose to leave the Valley with their children.”

“And Keran’s family, too. His father was especially angry
that the Council exonerated me in Keran’s death,” Vatar added.

Thekila nodded. “Yes. Wartan and Nertan—Keran’s and Loran’s
fathers, respectively—are certainly the worst of the Exiles. With their
followers, I’d estimate about twenty-five or thirty Exiles all told, including
the other children.”

“And all Talented like you?” Father asked Thekila.

“More or less. I’d match my distant manipulation against any
of them, one-on-one. And I’m certain none of them had an avatar that could fly.
But otherwise, yes.”

“And all of them blame me for their exile—and for Keran’s
death.” Vatar gazed out the window, trying to remember exactly what had been
said when the Council pronounced their verdict. “When they chose exile, Wartan
made some comment about how their Powers should make them gods.”

Father rubbed his chin. “Possibly that’s the role they’ve
taken among the Themyri.”

Vatar’s gaze swung back to his father’s face. “Just like our
ancestors did among the Caereans?”

Father shrugged uncomfortably. “Possibly not
just like
.
We’ve at least brought peace and prosperity to those we rule. And the services
of the Healers. Even when we expanded our control to the other cities, it was
never by conquest.
We
never attacked anyone or started a war.”

Vatar shrugged acknowledgment of this. It was something.
More than something. If it was what was done with magic that made it either
good or evil, surely the same thing applied to any other kind of power.