Beyond the Prophecy (19 page)

Savara’s face scrunched up. “Where’s Papa?”

Thekila opened her mouth to answer.

“Papa’s not coming. Not until later, at home,” Zavar said.

Thekila blinked in surprise. She knelt down, eye to eye with
Zavar. “That’s true. Your papa has something he needs to take care of, first.
But how did you know?”

The little boy lifted both shoulders in an exaggerated
shrug.

“Didn’t you tell him?” Terania asked.

“No. I hadn’t had the chance. Zavar’s already demonstrated
some Powers, though. At least, he’s able to sense Vatar’s distance viewings.
And he answered when Vatar bespoke him once.”

“How old is he again?” Teran asked.

“Just five.”

Teran shook his head. “I’ve never heard of Powers
manifesting so young.” He held out his arms. “Come here, Zavar.”

Zavar hung back, shy of the stranger. Thekila smiled and nodded
encouragingly and Zavar ventured close enough for Teran to pick him up and set
the boy in his lap.

“Can you bespeak him?” Teran asked.

“I doubt it. Just a moment. I’ll ask Vatar.”
Vatar, Teran
is interested in how Zavar can hear you already. Will you bespeak Zavar so
Teran can see it?

What business is it of Teran’s?
Vatar answered.

Teran knows a lot about the development of Powers. Maybe
he’ll have some useful suggestions for Zavar’s training.

All right.
She could feel Vatar’s reluctance. She
should have remembered how Vatar felt about Teran.

After a moment, Teran’s eyes narrowed. “Can you answer your
father?”

Zavar nodded. His face screwed up in concentration.

Teran nodded and set Zavar back on his feet. “He can hear
Vatar and answer him. But it’s difficult for him. I don’t think you should
encourage it for a while, until he’s a little older. Let his mind mature on its
own. What about the girl?”

“I don’t know.” Thekila turned to the little boy. “Zavar,
does Savara know when your papa watches you?”

Zavar shook his head. “No. She can’t feel Papa. But I tell
her he was there, so she feels better.”

Thekila smiled. “That’s good. You keep telling her if it
makes her feel better.”

Zavar nodded.

“What do you make of it, Teran?” Thekila asked.

“I don’t know. Perhaps that incident in the Valley, when
Vatar sensed his fear forged some kind of bond, opening the boy’s mind to
Vatar’s. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s only Vatar he can hear right now. No
one else.”

“That’s easy to test.” Thekila turned to Zavar again.
“Zavar, do I ever come with Vatar when he watches you?”

“No. Just Papa.”

“What does that prove?” Terania asked.

“That Teran is right,” Thekila answered. “Sometimes I do
watch them with Vatar. But Zavar can’t sense me.”

“Be very careful with it,” Teran said. “There’s a reason
Powers usually develop later than this. He needs to establish his own identity,
separate from Vatar’s. He’s a very unusual little boy.”

Thekila blinked. “Distance viewings won’t hurt him, will
they? Vatar feels better when he can watch over them.”

Teran shook his head. “No, I don’t see how that could be a
problem. It doesn’t involve direct contact.”

“Vatar! Are you in there?” someone called from outside the
hut.

Thekila drew in a few calming breaths. It was Avaza’s voice.
Not the person she wanted to be dealing with, just now. “What does
she
want?” She glanced toward where Jadar was sleeping. That wasn’t fair. She knew
exactly what Avaza wanted—and how she’d feel if anyone tried to keep her from
Jadar. It wasn’t that Thekila lacked sympathy for that. If only the woman
weren’t so petty and . . . malicious. With their budding knowledge of magic—and
their natural tendency to babble—it was simply too dangerous to give Avaza
custody of the twins for even a day.

Avaza had already proved that she’d use anything to try to
harm or embarrass Vatar. And without thinking long enough to realize how much
that would also hurt the twins. Any hint of the kind of magic Vatar was capable
of could be, quite literally, fatal among the superstitious Dardani. That was
not a risk Thekila was willing to take. No, she couldn’t let Avaza take the
children. Unfortunately, without Vatar here to back Thekila up, this was likely
to get ugly.

“Who is it?” Terania asked.

“Trouble. Stay here. Keep the children inside with you.”
Thekila let out a long breath, squared her shoulders, and stepped back out of
the hut. “What is it you want, Avaza?”
As if I couldn’t guess.

Avaza sneered at her. “I want to speak to Vatar.”

Thekila suppressed a frown. “Well, Vatar’s not here, so you’ll
have to talk to me.”

“When will he be back?” Avaza asked.

Thekila narrowed her eyes. She’d rather not give any
information at all to Avaza, but the fact that Vatar had not returned would be
common knowledge soon enough. There was no point in lying about it. “Vatar’s
gone to Tysoe on some business. He’ll be rejoining us in Caere, not here.”

Avaza paused for a moment, absorbing this, then she grinned
in triumph. “Well, then. If Vatar isn’t here, I’ll just take my children.”
Avaza took a step toward the door of the hut.

Thekila remained in front of the door, blocking her access.
“No, you won’t.”

“You can’t stop me.”

Thekila allowed one eyebrow to climb. “You don’t think so?
Try me.”

Avaza stepped forward and tried to shove Thekila out of her
way.

It had been a while since Thekila had drilled with Orleus,
but she remembered the lessons well. Use your opponent’s own weight against
them had been key in everything he taught her. Especially an unskilled opponent
who’s relying on their size to overpower you.

While the other woman was still slightly off balance,
Thekila grabbed Avaza’s arm in a lock, stepped in close, and dropped, using her
own weight to pull Avaza over. In the next instant, Avaza was looking
up
at Thekila from the ground as Thekila bounced back to her feet.

Avaza scrambled to her feet. “Why you—”

“What’s going on here?” Lucina cut in.

Avaza glared at this interruption. “Since Vatar isn’t here,
as their only available parent, I’m taking my children.”

Thekila shook her head. “Not without his consent, you’re
not. And you’re going about it the wrong way if you want that.”

“They’re
my
children, not yours,” Avaza hissed.

“They’re Lion Clan,” Lucina said with finality. “And, if
Vatar isn’t here to consult, then the decision is Danar’s. I don’t think you’re
doing yourself any favors there, either.”

Avaza stood glaring at them both for a moment and then
marched off, back toward the Eagle Clan huts.

Lucina watched her go, shaking her head. “Ariad really needs
to make a decision about her. Either declare her his life mate and let her have
other children to keep her occupied, or let her go to find someone else who
will. This situation isn’t fair to either of them.”

“I’m glad you came along when you did,” Thekila said.

Lucina laughed. “Oh, I don’t know. It looked like you were
doing fine on your own.”

Thekila grinned unrepentantly. “Orleus taught me a few
tricks.”

As they set up camp on the fourth night, Vatar watched Balan
with some concern. So far, with his natural athleticism and affable good
nature, Balan had been the best of the group. Zoridan had done fairly well,
too. At least as well as Thekila had, when she’d first come onto the plains.
Vatar still wasn’t sure about Zoria.

Something was clearly bothering Balan, now, though. He stood
staring dejectedly at the small waterhole. Vatar had caught him looking at
Zoria several times over the last few days. And there was that short walk
they’d taken together the night before. Among the Valson, that didn’t mean
exactly what it would to a Dardani. Still . . . there was more than one way
Zoria could cause trouble.

Vatar walked over to join Balan. “Is there a problem?”

Balan jumped as if he hadn’t heard Vatar approach. “No . . .
well, it’s just . . .” He swept an arm out including the drying grasses of the
prairie and the shallow waterhole. “Is it
all
like this?”

Ah. That’s it. It took Thekila a little time to get
accustomed to the plains, too.
 “Different from what you’re used to,
isn’t it? Well, I’ve never been to Tysoe before myself. Quetza would be a
better one to ask about what it’s like there. I know there’s a lake and a
forest.”

Balan visibly brightened at that news. “A lake? That’ll be
nice. How long will it take to get there?”

“By tomorrow or the day after we’ll reach the Gna River.”
Vatar suppressed a shudder at the thought of visiting the place where his
childhood friend had been swept away to his death. He squatted and used a stick
to draw a rough map in the soft ground. “We’ll cross at a ford Quetza knows.
That’ll put us in the Land between the Rivers, where all the fighting has been.
Unless things change, the plan is to follow the river to the east end of Lake
Narycea and from there to the bridge across the Maat River. Then the south
shore of the lake will lead us around to Tysoe. Probably another four or five
days’ travel. Maybe as much as a seven-day.”

“The lake’s that big?”

“Several times the size of the one in the Valley,” Quetza
said, coming to join them. “And a whole lot deeper, according to the
fishermen.”

Balan grinned. “That does sound fun. I’ll finally be able to
get my fur wet.”

Vatar blinked. “What?”

Balan shrugged. “My avatar’s a giant lake otter. None of
these waterholes have been big enough to justify the change. I miss my daily
swim.”

Quetza laughed. “Well, there’ll be plenty of room to swim at
Tysoe. Though, if the Exiles press us as hard as last year, you may not get as
much time for it as you like.” Her eyes narrowed. “Though, the Maat River is
deep. You might be able to do some reconnaissance in that form.”

Balan grinned at the idea.

Vatar studied the sky to the west. “We’re all likely to get
wet tomorrow, anyway.”

Quetza followed his gaze. “It does look like rain.” She let
out a breath. “Well, we couldn’t expect our luck with the weather to last
indefinitely.”

A short while later, as they gathered around their small
fire for the evening meal, Vatar allowed himself to wonder how their avatars
might further the cause. He’d never much thought of Transformation as a useful
skill before. He knew Quetza’s wyvern had been useful for keeping an eye on the
Exiles’ position and possible intentions. Quetza seemed to think Balan’s avatar
might be useful, too. He didn’t think his lion avatar would be much use for
spying, even if he had practiced in it enough to be able to do more than walk
sedately, but then he didn’t really understand how the Valson used their
avatars. It didn’t seem to be very like the way the Fasallon used
Transformations, which was mostly to support the Lie.

He looked around the small group and finally turned to
Quetza. “I confess, I don’t understand everything about Valson avatars. The
Fasallon don’t seem to settle on a single form the way the Valson do. And I’d
never really thought about avatars being useful before. What do you use your
avatars for?”

Quetza shrugged. “We don’t usually use them for much of
anything. Using the same form—an avatar—just tends to make the shape change
easier with practice, as you know. Thekila and I chose ours because we wanted
to do something different, something no one else had done. It’s just good luck
that mine has turned out to be useful in keeping tabs on the Exiles.”

Vatar chewed for a moment. He glanced across at Zoria. “I
remember, when I first met you and
your
. . . friends
in the forest. Loran made a point of telling me that his avatar was a bear. And
asked me what mine was. I didn’t even understand the question at the time.”

Quetza smiled and glanced first at Balan and then at
Zoridan. “Well, among the older students—mostly the boys—they’re used as a form
of adolescent posturing. And displaying for the girls, of course. ‘My avatar is
better than yours.’ In lieu of other comparisons. At least it usually doesn’t
descend into actual bloodshed. Or blackened eyes.”

“Oh, I see.” Vatar suppressed a grin of his own. The Dardani
had their own ways of dealing with the same impulses—usually involving long
stretches of duty minding the farthest herds. He supposed the Caereans and
Fasallon must have their own methods, too. “You think Balan’s avatar will be
useful, too. What about the rest of us. I can’t imagine mine being very
helpful. Lions can be stealthy, but I haven’t practiced that much.”

Quetza tilted her head. “Your avatar is better suited to
perhaps giving you the element of surprise, I think. No one who knows how shape
changes are supposed to work can fail to be surprised by yours.”

“What’s so surprising about Vatar’s avatar?” Zoridan asked.

Vatar shrugged. “It’s much too big.” He really didn’t want
to get more into the interaction of the two kinds of magic. Or even that there
were two kinds. Not in front of Zoria. Not yet, anyway. “I know what Zoria’s
avatar is—”

Zoria shuddered. “I’m
never
using that form again.”

Quetza laid a hand on the girl’s arm. “That’s understandable.
You might consider choosing a different avatar—when you’re ready.”

Vatar continued, “What’s yours, Zoridan?”

Zoridan looked into the fire, as if unwilling to meet
anyone’s eyes. “Well . . . I was always very impressed by Quetza’s when she
demonstrated in front of our class. So . . . I picked the wyvern, too. But I’ve
never been able to get off the ground. The teachers suggested I try something
else, but I was too stubborn to change.”

Quetza laughed. “You don’t want to know how hard learning to
fly was for Thekila and me.” She studied Zoridan through narrowed eyes. “You’re
taller, but not really that much heavier than me. I doubt you could take off
from the ground, but I might be able to show you how to pick up a warm air
current and soar, at least.” She gave a little half-shrug. “If you don’t mind
crashing a few times, that is. That does seem to be part of the learning
process.”

“Could you?” Zoridan asked. “Then maybe I could help with
the reconnaissance, too.”

“It’ll be a while before you’re ready for that,” Quetza
said.

Vatar looked into the fire. “What else could our
Talents—Powers—be useful for?”

Quetza cocked her head to one side. “I don’t know that
they’re much help against the Exiles directly. Oh, if they start throwing rocks
with distant manipulation, we can do the same or change the course of the
rocks. But that’s not usually a huge part of their attack. At least, not so
far. Mostly they put the Themyri out front and drive them to attack. They
almost always have the greater numbers. But, from what we can tell, it’s mostly
fear of the Exiles’ Powers that hold the Themyri to follow them. Sometimes, a
significant enough demonstration of similar Powers on our part is enough to
disrupt the attack. Shape changes—especially dramatic ones—and distant manipulation
are both good for that.” She shrugged. “Of course, the ability to bespeak each
other is a huge help in communication. And distance viewings help us to know
where the enemy is—at least some of the time.”