Beyond the Prophecy (9 page)

He could feel Thekila’s tired smile as she answered.
Just
his arm. Fortunately, Boreala was here to check up on Jadar. She’s already
taken care of it. It’ll heal normally. Though she did say that the pain might
keep him from trying it again soon.

Vatar chuckled, remembering his own determination.
I
wouldn’t count on it. Not if he’s anything like me.

I’m not,
she answered.
I remember Theklan at that
age. We’ll be watching from now on.

I’ll be home soon. I love you. Get some sleep.

Love you, too.

Vatar sat up and stretched. He pulled on his boots and
stepped up through the hide-covered door into the crisp morning air, leaving Theklan
to finish sleeping.

“There you are!” Mother greeted him. “I set aside some
breakfast for you two. Better hurry.”

Kiara looked behind him. “Isn’t Theklan up, yet?”

“Not yet. Let him sleep a little longer, huh? He needs the
rest.”

Mother’s eyes narrowed. “You seemed pretty tired yourself,
last night.”

Vatar smiled at her. “More than I should have been? It’s all
right, Mother. It was Thekila, not me. Not very fair of me to leave her to take
care of the children, I guess.”

“Thekila?
How.
. . ?”

Vatar shushed her. “I’ll explain about that later. When
Theklan wakes up.” He glanced around the immediate area. “And Pa comes back
from wherever he’s gone, so we can all talk together.” He gestured back towards
the hut—the best chance of privacy to be had among the Dardani.

Mother’s lips thinned, but she nodded. Vatar knew he was
definitely going to have to explain about his bond with Thekila to satisfy
Mother. Well, he’d expected to have to do that anyway. How else could he
describe what they’d done that had caused the Fasallon to have such an
unhealthy interest in Theklan?

Kiara looked past Vatar’s shoulder. “Well, Pa’s coming back
right now. And I think it’s time Theklan woke up, anyway.”

Mother followed Kiara’s gaze. “I’ll take Fenar over to play
with one of his friends. Then we’ll all go inside and talk.” She looked
pointedly at Kiara. “We’ll keep our voices down. If Theklan can sleep through
our talk, then he really does need the rest.”

Mother came back in a few moments and they all went inside
and sat in a circle on the opposite side of the small hut from the
still-sleeping Theklan.

As he settled into his place, Vatar tried to organize his
thoughts. His family already knew about his magic. Did they also know that the
Valson had at least as much magic as the Fasallon? Possibly not. Maybe he
should start there. He cleared his throat and glanced once toward the
hide-covered door. He lowered his voice. “You know about my . . . abilities.
I’m not sure if you know that Thekila and Theklan have . . . similar Talents. In
fact, Thekila’s the one who taught me most of what I know. Well, Thekila and
Quetza.”

Mother nodded. “I’d guessed something like that.” She smiled
slightly. “You two haven’t been together long enough to communicate as much as
you seem to be able to with just a look.”

Vatar returned the smile. “No. In fact, we don’t need to
look at each other at all. Or even be near each other. With us it’s . . .
Thekila and I are bound. It’s . . . it’s a little like being inside each other’s
heads all the time—or, hearts, more like. I only know what she’s thinking if
she chooses to share it, but I always know what she feels—and the same for her
with my feelings. Though I didn’t realize it until this morning, that’s why I
was so tired last night. Little Jadar had kept her up because he’s teething.
And on top of it, Zavar decided it was a good time to try climbing that apple
tree in our yard. She’d had a very tiring day.”

Mother shook her head. “Zavar is too much like you, Vatar.”

Pa smiled reminiscently. “Even Vatar was about a year older
before he fell out of his first tree. Kiara, too.” He glanced toward the door.
“I don’t think Fenar has thought of it yet.”

Vatar chuckled. “Give him time.”

“Savara is more cautious,” Mother offered. “Maybe she’ll
rein Zavar back a little.”

Vatar shrugged. “Not noticeably. At least so far, it seems
to go more the other way. He persuades her to things she wouldn’t try on her
own.” He shook his head. “Anyway, much as I love talking about the children,
that’s not what brought me out here so late in the year.”

Pa sat up straighter. “Yes, you know how chancy the weather
is this time of year. What was chasing you to drive you to do that?”

“Nothing was chasing us, exactly. It just seemed . . .
prudent to get Theklan out of Caere as quickly as possible.” Vatar gave a brief
summary of recent events in Caere.

During it, Theklan woke up and came to join them. Kiara
handed him a piece of flatbread she’d saved for him. He nodded and bit off a
chunk.

“You mean to say you have magic too? And you never told me?”
Kiara asked him.

Theklan shrugged, pausing to swallow. “Vatar warned us not
to say anything about magic among the Dardani. Or—worse—use our Powers where a
Dardani might see us.”

Kiara bit her lip. “I guess that makes sense. But you could
have told me when we were in Caere. After all, we knew about Vatar by then.”

Theklan shrugged and took another bite of his flatbread.

“So that’s what was wrong with Theklan last night?” Mother
asked. “This . . . burn out?”

“The after-effects of it,” Vatar answered. “Judging from my
experience, it’ll be a few more days before he feels like his old self.”

“Your experience?” Mother asked.

Vatar looked down at his hands. “Summer before last, the
bear attack, we didn’t stay out at the waterhole that long because I hit my
head. I’d . . . done quite a lot of magic, trying to drive the bear off. Too
much. I still thought I could keep my magic a secret, then. I came closer to
burn out than Theklan did. But Boreala says it’ll take him longer to recover,
because he’d been working magic near his capacity for several days beforehand.”

“I see,” Mother said, tight lipped. “What does Boreala say
Theklan needs now?”

“Just rest. And not to use his Powers for a while longer. I
brought him out here hoping he could stay with you over the winter. Safely
beyond the power of the Fasallon to compel him to do anything like that again.
We’ll be taking him back to the Valley and the Academy next summer.” Vatar
glanced at Theklan. “Oh, and I promised to ask if his manhood test could be
moved up to next summer, so he won’t miss it.”

“Of course he can stay here,” Pa said. “I’ll talk to Larad
about including the boy in next year’s test, but that’ll be up to the Eagle
Clan to decide. What about you and Thekila? Will you be safe in Caere?”

“We have the full protection of my guild. Since I didn’t
take Theklan as my apprentice when he came of age for it, he doesn’t.” Vatar
looked at Theklan. “Starting in about a seven-day, once he’s recovered from
this, Thekila expects him to start checking in with us by Far Speech. It’ll be
good practice for him.”

“What about you? Are you just going to turn around and ride
back?” Mother asked.

Vatar shook his head. “Not immediately. I can’t stay long,
but the horses need to rest for at least a day or two. And I have a couple of
other things to do while I’m here.”

“What?” Pa asked.

Vatar explained about the problems between Caere and
Kausalya and the possibility of shortages as a result. “We’ll be better off
than most at the farm. We’ve got the fruit trees and Thekila’s vegetable
garden. Caere’s not likely to run short of fish. Arcas traded for a few goats,
for milk for the children, and some chickens. We’ll be all right.”

He looked over at Pa. “But I wanted to talk to you, Pa,
about the possibility of building a road between Caere and Tysoe. It won’t help
this winter of course. Maybe not even much next winter, depending. But it would
loosen Kausalya’s stranglehold on trade. Of course, any road would likely have
to cross Dardani lands. That would require the agreement of the tribe.”

“Hmm.” Pa rubbed his chin. “Well, it’s worth talking about.
I might be able to ride over and speak with a few of the chiefs who might be
sympathetic. Bion, Larad, a few others. But nothing can be decided until next summer.
There’ll be some traditionalists who’ll fight against it.”

Vatar grinned. “Arcas sent a message. The chiefs should
consider what they want to trade for their consent. He said he’d handle the
negotiations for you.”

Pa laughed. “That might help with some of them, at least.”

Kiara sat on her bedroll and watched as Vatar finished his
preparations for his ride back to Caere. She’d had questions ever since last spring,
when they’d all ridden to Caere to exorcise the voice that sometimes spoke in
Vatar’s head. The voice that had turned out to be one of his—their—distant
ancestors. And Vatar had chosen not to exorcise him after all.

Almost everyone else was out harvesting acorns to help get
them through the winter—even Theklan. Even little Fenar. Kiara really should be
with them, but this might be the best chance she’d ever get to ask some of
those questions. She wouldn’t see Vatar again until summer. There’d be more
people around, then. It’d be harder to find a private place to ask questions
like these. And she was afraid the answers might be very important to her. So
she’d stayed behind, ostensibly to help him pack up.

Kiara drew a deep breath and plunged in. “Vatar, if you’re
descended from some Fasallon—”

“Taleus,” Vatar put in. “Well, and Tabeus. And Calpe, too, I
guess.”

Kiara waved this off. “Yes, Taleus. Well, if you’re
descended from him through Mother, aren’t I, too?”

Vatar smiled. “Of course.”

She swallowed hard. “Then . . . shouldn’t I have magic,
too?”

Vatar paused a moment, his eyes going slightly unfocused.
“Possibly. But whatever Talents you might have are still locked away by what
Calpe—Taleus’s wife and our ancestress—did to put their sons’ magic to sleep so
they could live among the Caereans.”

Kiara’s brows drew down. “Well, why is my magic still locked
up and yours isn’t?”

After another pause, Vatar answered, “I have magic from my
father—my real father—too. That opened a crack in what Calpe had done.
Impossible to wall up things like Far Speech and Far Sight when I’d inherited
them from a different source. That crack allowed Taleus to revive the rarer
Talents I’d inherited from him . . . and from Calpe.”

Kiara narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing when you get
that strange look on your face before you answer me?”

Vatar smiled. “Asking Taleus. He knows things I don’t.
Especially about this.”

“Ask Taleus if he could unlock my magic, too!” Kiara
demanded.

Vatar got that far-away look again. “No. He could only do
that because he was bound to me. Inside me, if you will. And because they were
already half released. He never had the Talent that Calpe used to lock up that
line of magic. Only another with the same ability could undo what Calpe did.”

Kiara thought hard. She didn’t know very much about the
Fasallon. She had figured out that Calpe was supposed to be the founder of the
Healers. Kiara only knew one Healer. “Boreala?”

Vatar blinked. “No. Taleus doesn’t think Boreala has that
ability. It’s hard to be sure, but he doesn’t think I’ve encountered anyone who
could do that while he’s been with me. He thinks it would have to be one of
Calpe’s descendants—which Boreala isn’t. Her Talent was very rare.”

Kiara sniffed and fought against the tears prickling at the
corners of her eyes. “I’ve been cheated. I should have magic, but it’s been
stolen from me.”

Vatar squatted down in front of her. “Kiara, listen to me.
First, there’s no guarantee how much or what kind of magic you’d have. Or even
that you’d have any. Cestus—you remember Cestus?”

Kiara nodded, not trusting her voice.

“Well, Cestus is my half-brother on my father’s side. Fully
half Fasallon, but he has almost no magic to speak of. You might not either.
Even if you did, trust me, you’re far better off without it or any knowledge of
it among the Dardani. It’s not an easy secret to have to keep. To always be
worried about someone finding out. And about what would happen if they did. If
Avaza ever knew the truth . . .”

“I bet I’d have as much magic as you,” Kiara burst out.

Vatar put a hand on her shoulder. “Kiara, why is this so
important to you?”

She ducked her head to hide her blush. “You have magic. And
you married Thekila—who has magic, too.” She gulped. “Theklan . . .”

Vatar put a finger under her chin and tipped her face up to
meet his eyes. He smiled gently. “I didn’t fall in love with Thekila because
she has magic.” His smile turned wry for just a moment. “In fact, you could say
that I fell in love with her
in spite of
her magic. Besides, you and
Theklan are both too young.”

He grimaced, possibly thinking of Avaza again. He’d been a
couple of years older than she was now when he and Avaza became year mates. And
it hadn’t ended well. But Theklan was nothing like Avaza.

“Trust me on that, too,” Vatar went on. “But whatever may
someday develop between you—in a few years—won’t depend on whether or not you
have magic, but on who the two of you are.”

Kiara made a face. “I still think I’ve been cheated.”

Vatar laughed. “You wouldn’t, if you knew how much work
magic can be. Just ask Theklan how much fun magic has been for him, lately. And
that’s in Caere, where they don’t call it sorcery and think it comes from Evil
Spirits.” He pulled her to her feet. “Is everything packed?”

“Yes, all packed and tied to your saddle.”

He started toward the door of the hut and his waiting horse.
“Good. Then why don’t you climb up behind me. I’ll take you to where the acorn
gatherers are working on my way out.”