The Shaman's Curse (Dual Magics Book 1) (14 page)

Boreala, coming back from one of her tiger-attack patients,
stopped as she passed by the forge. Something about the song Vatar sang sent a
chill up her spine. It wasn’t at all melodic, but that wasn’t what stopped her.
She narrowed her eyes and watched more closely, using all her senses. She
gasped and pulled her healer’s bag tight against her chest. Lords of Creation!
He was singing power into the red-hot metal. That was a very rare and wild
Talent. She’d never seen anything like it before, but the Talent was
unmistakable.

And unexpected. Father had led her to believe that Vatar had
no Talent. She needed to talk to Father. Soon.

Late that night, when the others slept, she composed herself
to contact Father. Normally, she would have preferred solitude, but it was too
dangerous to leave the hut alone at night. She reached out. This was overdue.
She really should have contacted her father earlier, but she’d been afraid of
being ordered straight home.
“Father?”

“What’s wrong?”
Father’s answer was immediate. He must
have been worried about them.
“I expected you to be home by now.”

“I can’t leave yet,”
Boreala answered. Briefly, she
described the situation.

Father’s mental voice became even more urgent.
“Are you
in danger? What about Cestus and Vatar?”

Boreala forced herself to calm. She’d worried him
unnecessarily by not contacting him sooner. Now she’d given him news that
worried him even more. The least she could do was to project calm to ease his
fears now. Most of them, anyway.
“I’m in no more danger than anyone else and
far less than most. Cestus is safe, too. Vatar is one of those who will have to
face the tigers.

“I’m too far away to help.”
There was frustration in
the reply.
“Can anything be done?”

“Vatar has a plan. He and Cestus and Vatar’s friends have
refined it.”

“Will it work?”
Father asked.

Boreala sent a mental smile.
“It has once before. Vatar
modeled it after Tabeus and the Sea-Dragon.”

“Interesting choice. Can he pull it off? That requires
considerable skill,”
Father said.

“Vatar thinks so. And he won’t be alone, as Tabeus was,”
Boreala
answered truthfully.

Father sighed.
“I hope he’s right
.
I appreciate
you giving me warning, even if all I can do is worry.”

“That’s not why I contacted you, Father. As you say,
there’s nothing you can do about it from there. I would have waited until we
got back.”
She tried not to let herself think unless the worst happens
.
It was too hard to hide thoughts like that through Far Speech.

“What then?”
Father asked.

“Father, whatever made you believe that Vatar has no Talent?”

Boreala wasn’t surprised by the puzzlement in Father’s
reply.
“Cestus thought he’d detected a brief Far Speech conversation during
his manhood rites, but Montibeus and I ruled out anyone he could have
contacted. Why? What has this got to do with the current problem?”

Boreala drew a deep breath before she answered.
“I
watched Vatar at his forge today, as he made the spears for the tiger hunt. He
sings as he works. I watched until I was sure. Father, he was singing power
into the blade.”

“What? Are you positive?”
Father’s surprise was
unmistakable.
“Like the spear Tabeus made to kill the sea dragon?”

“Yes, Father. Although, I don’t think Vatar knows what
he’s doing. Once I realized what I was seeing, it was too strong to miss.”

There was a long moment of silence—so long that Boreala
almost thought she’d lost the contact.

“Say nothing of this to anyone else. Not even Cestus,”
Father
said, eventually.

Boreala blinked in surprise.
“You don’t mean to keep it a
secret, do you?”

“If I can, yes,”
Father answered
.

“But, Father, if the Council, especially Mother, find out
that you kept this from them—”

Father interrupted her.
“Boreala, what do you think would
happen to Vatar if he were confined to this island?”

Boreala only had to think for a moment.
“It would kill
him.”

“Yes, no matter how they gilded it, he couldn’t live in a
cage. So the Council must not learn of this.”

Boreala sighed.
“Yes, Father. What about Vatar? Shouldn’t
he know?”

“No,”
Father answered.
“Or at least, not yet. Apparently
his people have some odd ideas about our Talents.”

“I know. Vatar warned us on the way out here.”

“Cestus says the few times he’s brought up anything to do
with Talent, Vatar’s reactions were . . . excessive. Almost panicked. Vatar
doesn’t need any more stress right now. He especially doesn’t need to doubt
himself.”
Father paused.
“Probably he’s safer not knowing, for now.
Later, when his training with the Smiths Guild is complete, there may be a
time. Not yet.”

Boreala sighed.
“I suppose you’re right.”

“Take care of yourself, Little Bird. And let me know what
happens.”

~

Veleus paced across his study. That particular kind of
Talent hadn’t been seen in generations. Of course, no Fasallon currently living
worked metal, so how would such a Talent manifest? With a shake of his head, he
turned and headed for the door. This called for a visit to the archives. That
was the only place he could think of where he might find information about this
particular kind of Talent.

On his way out the door, he touched the spear that leaned in
the corner. Tabeus’s spear, which Veleus customarily carried in the Festival.
If Boreala was right, Vatar was doing exactly what Tabeus had done when he had
sung his anger and grief into this blade. Tabeus’s spear had shown uncommon
strength and purpose during the battle with the sea dragon. More than that, it
had held its edge for over six hundred years without needing to be sharpened.
It had never shown a single speck of rust.

Vatar might have a better chance than Veleus originally
thought. At least in the tiger hunt. Here in Caere, it would be different. If
the High Council ever found out that such a Talent had resurfaced, they would
never consent to leave Vatar outside the Fasallon. He would certainly be
confined to the Palace and its island.

Yes. The fewer people who knew about that, the better.

At midday on the day of the test, Vatar went for a walk down
to the waterhole. He’d done as much as he could and there was nothing to do now
but wait until this evening. The boys would set out just before dusk, when the
tigers began to hunt.

Vatar tried not to think about that. A chill of fear went
down his spine every time he envisioned himself riding out to
look
for a
pair of forest tigers. He hunkered down and tossed a handful of rocks, one by
one, into the water. It had been much easier when the test was still days away
and there was so much to do. He’d been able to concentrate on the next task,
and the next. Now, the test was only hours away and there was nothing left to
do except think about it. He didn’t want to go back to his family’s hut,
either. That’d be too much like saying goodbye.

When the rocks were gone, Vatar stood up and walked a little
farther. He crouched down again and gathered another handful of rocks. Since he
was trying hard not to think about hunting tigers, he couldn’t get the image of
the forest tigers out of his mind. Despite his best efforts, his mind kept
reviewing all of the most frightening aspects of the tigers—and there were
many.

The tigers were enormous, about twice the size of the
massive plains lions. They could easily pull down the heaviest bull and drag it
off. The tigers’ long fangs—as long as a man’s hand—would rip the throat out of
a bull or a horse. The heavy folds of skin on their shoulders and backs were as
good as a shield. Vatar fervently hoped he was right, that the steel spears
would penetrate that thick hide.

The Dardani had never hunted a tiger, at least, not that
Vatar had ever heard of. It was too dangerous. Thinking about the tigers wasn’t
helping. Out of the ripples in the water, a face started to form, red hair,
green eyes, and a bridge of freckles across her nose—Thekila. She wasn’t even a
real girl, but Vatar couldn’t help noticing that she was pretty, in a slightly
exotic way. He wished he’d gotten a chance to know someone like her. Or,
really, any girl. The masters back in Caere had effectively blocked him from
getting close to any of their daughters. He rarely even got to talk to one for
long. Though he’d had his torc for months now, he’d never even gotten a chance
to kiss a girl. If this plan didn’t work, he likely never would.

The face disappeared as a shadow fell across the water.
Vatar turned and looked up into the face of another girl. A real girl this
time. She was slender, but her light blue tunic barely contained her ample
breasts and the corresponding curve of her hips. The color also matched the
clear blue of her eyes. From this angle, looking up at her, the sun made a halo
of her blonde hair. He’d seen her hanging around, watching the boys drill. He
thought she had a brother in the group. Or maybe a sweetheart. Although the
boys weren’t supposed to start courting girls until after their manhood tests,
sometimes the girls had already made up their minds before that—and made their
preferences known.

Vatar jumped to his feet and brushed off the knees of his
trousers. “Uh . . . hello.”

She smiled briefly—a flash of white teeth behind those pink
lips. “Hello. What were you doing?”

Vatar shrugged. He’d like to seem braver, but there weren’t
very many things he could realistically be doing out here. “Trying not to be
afraid.” He grimaced. “It’s not working.”

The girl smiled again. “Ravaz isn’t succeeding either.”

Ravaz. One of the javelinists. Lucky . . .

The girl took a step closer and placed her hand on Vatar’s
arm. “Ravaz is my only brother. Is . . . is your plan going to work? Is he
going to come back from this hunt?”

Her brother. Oh. Then . . .
Vatar squared his
shoulders and stood straighter. “We have a good chance. And he’ll be safer than
some, I think. It’s still going to be dangerous, though. I can’t promise that
no one will get hurt. Or—”

“I know. No one can promise that. I just wanted to hear that
there’s a chance.” She looked into Vatar’s eyes and the side of her mouth
twitched up again. “I’m Avaza, by the way.”

He nodded. “I’m Vatar.” With her standing this close, his
mind started to fog with the smell of her hair, the warmth where her hand still
rested on his arm.

That quick twitch that wasn’t—quite—a smile again. “I know.
I’ve been watching you.” She took another step closer.

Vatar smiled. She’d been watching him. That sounded . . .
hopeful. He couldn’t think of anything to say. Avaza’s eyes shifted down to his
lips and one side of her mouth quirked up. Vatar drew in a deep breath and
swallowed. It seemed like an invitation, but he wasn’t sure. But, if he didn’t
try, then he might really never get a chance to kiss a girl. Ever. She could
always pull away if she didn’t want him to. He bent his head and pressed his
lips to hers. He meant it to be just a short kiss, but Avaza moved closer and
locked her arms around his neck. Her lips parted under his.

Vatar forgot about the tigers. He forgot everything. His
arms came up to encompass her waist and pull her closer. All his fear and anger
evaporated in an entirely new and delectable feeling. He wanted to keep on
kissing her. Or rather, he wanted to explore more than just her lips. But . . .
was the world spinning just a little too fast for him all of a sudden? With
difficulty, he broke of the kiss and stepped back.

Avaza smiled and lifted one hand to his cheek. “You know,
when I watched you drill or in your workshop, I wondered what it would be like
to kiss you. It was better than I thought.”

Vatar’s pulse was still pounding. He felt light all over,
almost like he could soar over the plains. And Avaza, beautiful Avaza was
looking at him like . . . like a hero. He wanted to be her hero, to make her
keep looking at him like that and keep on kissing him like that, too.

He liked the thought that his kiss, unpracticed as it was,
had pleased her, too. Vatar smiled and took her hands. “If we come back
tomorrow with the heads of those tigers, will you kiss me like that again?”

Avaza cocked her head to the side and gave him a secretive
smile. “If you do that, any girl in the whole tribe would kiss you.”

“But I’m asking you.”

Avaza’s smile could have put the sun to shame. “Then, of
course I’ll kiss you. I’ll be waiting for you.”

~

The boys rode in silence to the rock outcrop. They tied
their small herd of goats inside the curve of rock as bait and then moved away,
out of sight. The moon rose, close to full, giving them plenty of light to see
by. They waited. The delay was harrowing as each boy could only anticipate
silently what would come. Vatar felt as though he would scream and knew the
others felt the same.

The night was unusually quiet. There wasn’t even enough
breeze to move the grass. The common noises of night on the plains—the call of
night birds, the rustlings of small creatures, even the drone of insects—seemed
oddly absent. Maybe that was because Vatar was listening so hard for a sound of
the tigers’ approach. He could smell the goats and his own sweat over the clean
scent of the grass.

The goats stirred restlessly, bleating in alarm. A rustle of
movement in the tall grass drew Vatar’s attention. He caught a glimpse of a
striped body and signaled wordlessly to the others near him, pointing to the
movement. The signal spread until all the boys were aware of the approaching
tigers. Vatar held his breath as the tigers stalked toward the goats.

He turned only his eyes, afraid to move or even breathe,
watching the other boys close the trap. Silently and somewhat raggedly, the
javelinists closed the circle behind the tigers and began to throw, attempting
to drive the tigers back against the vertical rock face. The javelins bit into
the tigers, piercing the thick hide, but not deeply enough to kill. The smaller
tiger, maddened by the javelins, turned back to attack his foes. Vatar wanted
to curse. The plan was falling apart already. It was too soon for the lancers
to come in. The tigers weren’t in the trap, yet. They could still escape. Then
there’d be a much riskier chase across the plains.

Too soon or not, Vatar couldn’t let the tiger get to the
javelinists. He prepared to urge his horse forward. He settled back in his
saddle when, with obvious reluctance, Ariad and the other spearmen moved up to
protect the javelinists. Ariad thrust at the charging tiger, which roared in
pain and veered off. Ariad’s spear was wrenched from his grasp, the point still
embedded in the tiger’s chest. As the tiger wheeled, it raked the nearest
javelinist with his claws. The other javelinists threw again to drive the tiger
back into the trap.

The tiger ran through the frightened goats, right where they
wanted it. Good. Now what was happening with the other tiger? The plan would
work best if both tigers were in the trap.

Sky above and earth below. While no one was looking, the
bigger of the two tigers had run in among the goats and killed one. Now it was
trying to drag its kill away. The plan was falling apart. If that one tiger
escaped, they’d have failed, even if they managed to kill the smaller tiger.

Vatar turned back to see what was going on with the smaller
tiger. All the javelinists were occupied with that tiger and they were needed
there to keep it in the trap. The riders were needed there, too. It was clear
by now that they couldn’t expect the javelins to kill the tigers. Even Ariad’s
spear hadn’t penetrated deeply enough for that. It’d be down to the horsemen to
make the kill. But somebody had to keep the other one from getting away. Up to
him, then. Daron and Alion should be enough to dispatch the smaller tiger, once
it was backed up against the rocks.

Vatar spurred his horse forward. First, he needed to get to
the outside of the beast so that, hopefully, it’d run back toward the rocks and
its companion. Back into the trap. He had to wrestle his nervous horse back to
a stop and then to turn around. His mount naturally wanted to keep running
away
from the huge predator. Vatar really couldn’t blame the horse; he felt the same
way himself, but that wasn’t an option. Briefly, he wished he’d had enough time
and materials to make shields as well as spears. If he had a shield to beat his
spear against, maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to drive the tiger back without
getting any nearer. Well, as Pa would say, you can only use what you have, not
what you wish you had. Vatar took a stronger grip on his lance.

The tiger turned to roar at Vatar, making his horse dance
even more nervously. Best to get this over with quickly, before the horse
panicked. Vatar lowered his lance and spurred his horse forward. The tiger
leapt at the same instant. Driven by instinct, the horse reared up, flailing
its front hooves at the predator. Vatar adjusted just in time to keep from
being dumped off his horse’s back. The tiger slid to the side to avoid the
horse’s hooves—to Vatar’s right, toward his spear. But the tiger was intent on
the horse, not its rider. Vatar adjusted the point of his spear and leaned
forward. The horse dropped back to the ground and Vatar took drove the point
into the tiger’s side. The tiger roared once, trying to turn to face Vatar.
Vatar turned his heels to push the horse forward. The lance, driven by the
force of the horse’s momentum, drove still deeper. The tiger went limp. Dead!
He’d actually killed one of the tigers!

His victory shout died on his lips. His horse sidled away
from dead tiger, and Vatar had to fight for control. The horse whinnied in
terror and tossed its head. Vatar looked up. The second tiger, spear still in
its chest, was charging right for him, the killer of its mate, ignoring
everyone else. Vatar reached over and pulled at his lance, but it was stuck
fast in the dead tiger. His heart hammered as he fumbled for his Dardani long
knife. It was steel, but if he let the tiger get close enough for him to use
it, he was already dead. What other choice did he have?

From the side, Alion rode in, leveling his lance at the
second tiger. Just as Vatar let out his held breath, Alion’s horse shied,
throwing him. The tiger wheeled to attack the fallen boy. Daron rode in to
rescue his Clan brother. At the same time, Ariad darted forward, grabbing up
Alion’s lance.

Ariad had just enough time to raise the blade, the heavy
shaft still resting on the ground. As the tiger charged, it ran full onto the
lance, impaling itself. Simultaneously, Daron drove his lance into the tiger’s
side. The sound of the blades grinding as they met inside the tiger’s chest
screeched in Vatar’s ears.

It was over. The tigers were dead. They had done it. Vatar didn’t
know whether to leap for joy or collapse with relief. So he did first one and
then the other.

He watched as some of the boys started to skin the tigers so
they could take back proof of their success. Vatar smiled. They’d go back in
triumph. And he’d collect that promised kiss from Avaza.

He lifted his face to the moon. Life was
good.