The Shaman's Curse (Dual Magics Book 1) (17 page)

BOOK: The Shaman's Curse (Dual Magics Book 1)
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Veleus put a finger to his lips. “No, he doesn’t. Thank you
for telling me. What sort of price is expected?”

“Only you can set the price. It’s usually a service or task
that offsets the harm done.”

“I’ll give it some thought.” Veleus rubbed his chin. “Seems
to me it should have something to do with keeping you safe. Boreala and Cestus
have told me about this shaman who seems to have it in for you. What I don’t
know is why?”

Before Vatar could answer, Boreala and Avaza found them.

“We’ve got it all arranged, Vatar,” she said. “Your wife
knows what to do, now.” A barely-suppressed smile was playing about her mouth.

Vatar grinned. “Thank you, Boreala.”

“Wife?” Veleus asked.

Vatar took Avaza’s hand. “Yes, Father. This is my
year-mate—what you would call wife—Avaza.” He squeezed her hand. “Avaza, this
is Veleus, my father here in Caere.”

Veleus bowed to her. “I’m very pleased to meet you, my dear.
Please regard me as your father, too, while you’re here.”

 

 

Chapter 27: Flight

 

Thekila finished buckling the metal-studded harness on as
she watched Quetza wheel and soar on the updrafts. It looked like a lot of fun,
if she could just master flight as well as her friend.

Truth was Quetza had chosen her avatar better than Thekila
had. No matter how good either of them got with their shape changes, their mass
would always stay the same. As a wyvern, Quetza was slightly small and also
slightly heavy, but not as heavy as a wyvern carrying its prey back to the
nest. So those large leathery wings were meant to carry her weight. All she’d
needed was practice.

Thekila, on the other hand, though slight as a human, made a
very large and
very
heavy eagle. Much too heavy for the wingspan. The
mechanics of flight were never going to be as easy for her. She could do all
right in an up draft now, but without that boost, she’d fall like a rock
without some additional magic. She’d come up with a plan for that, though.

Quetza swooped below the level of the ledge and then rose up
to land gracefully. She took a step forward and melted back into her natural
shape. She stood still for a moment with her eyes closed. The sudden change
could be disorienting. Then she smiled as she crossed to sit with her back to a
sun-warmed boulder. She took several deep breaths.

Thekila took a step forward toward the ledge.

Quetza grabbed her arm. “Give me a moment. As much fun as
that is, I still get a little out of breath when I fly. I wouldn’t want to drop
you.”

Thekila grinned. “I wouldn’t want that either.” She hunkered
down next to Quetza and picked up a handful of pebbles, rolling them around in
her closed hand.

After a moment, Quetza opened one eye a slit to look at
Thekila. “So, have you had any more contact with your secret admirer?”

Thekila tossed a pebble over the edge. “Just flashes. It’s
very frustrating.”

Quetza laughed. “He’s too shy to actually say anything to
you.”

Thekila tossed another pebble, allowing her red hair to
obscure her face. “I don’t think that’s it. Last time . . . last time, I swear
he was thinking about kissing me.”

“Hmm.” Quetza sat forward. “When was this?”

Thekila shrugged and let the rest of the pebbles fall
through her fingers. “It’s been a while. Longer than usual. There hasn’t even
been a flicker since midsummer.” That was the longest she’d ever gone with
nothing since that first contact.

“See. He’s shy. He scared himself by thinking that.” When
Thekila continued silent, Quetza added. “Any idea
where
he is?”

Thekila shook her head. “Nothing more definite than west.
I’m never prepared when I see him, and then the contact is gone too fast. Like
I said, frustrating.”

“He’s either shy or he’s a terrible tease,” Quetza said.

Thekila stood up. “Ready?”

Quetza stood, too. “Sure. You know, it’s not too late to
change your avatar. You’d be even lighter as a wyvern than I am. And probably
most of your flying practice as an eagle would still apply. You could really be
flying before our tests come up.”

Thekila’s eyes narrowed. “No. I don’t have a feel for the
wyverns the way you do. I don’t think I could build a convincing wyvern in my
mind. But I have a plan.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve been practicing doing two things at once—like Teran
using a masking shape change to make his tiger avatar
look
full-size.”

Quetza cocked her head to the side. “I don’t see how that
will help.”

Thekila smiled. “Another shape change wouldn’t. What I need
is to learn to do my own pushing. Outside of an updraft, I have to learn to
push against the ground with my Powers in order to help keep me up in the air.
So I won’t be dependent on someone else to keep me from falling.”

“That won’t be easy,” Quetza said.

Thekila nodded. “But I’m sure I can do that—eventually. I
just can’t do
three
hard things at once. So the first thing I need to do
is practice flying, until that part becomes second nature. Like walking.
Then
I can focus on maintaining the shape change and pushing. And then I’ll be able
to really fly by myself.”

Quetza nodded thoughtfully. “Then, let’s start your
practice. You won’t mind if I give you some suggestions, will you?”

Thekila laughed. “I’ll take all the help I can get. Our
tests aren’t that far off.”

 

 

Chapter 28: The Journeyman’s Wife

 

Avaza stomped across the tiny courtyard to the gate. Before
coming to Caere, she’d never been glad to have her monthly cycle start. Now, it
was her one excuse to get away from Castalia and
outside
for a while, at
least while Vatar was busy during the day. She’d barely gotten away today.

The older woman had been so intent on getting Avaza into
“appropriate dress” as she called the ridiculous garments that Caerean women
wore, with their tight bodices and layered, flounced skirts. Avaza much
preferred her comfortable and practical tunic and trousers. The dress was just
the latest issue between them, though. There was always
something
Avaza
was doing wrong, or at least “not the way we do things here in the city.”
Sometimes, it just made Avaza want to scream.

It didn’t help that she was shut in with Castalia all day
every day. After those first few days, Avaza had found that her view of Caere
had mostly shrunk to the house and its courtyard, with only occasional trips to
the market to break things up. Vatar went out, to the guildhall or to his
lessons with Cestus. All Avaza saw most of the time was either the inside walls
of the house or the outside walls of the surrounding houses. No wide vistas of
grassland. Not even a garden. Barely a view of the sky or a breath of the
wind—and what breeze did reach her smelled strange.

This wasn’t what she’d expected when she’d wheedled Vatar
into taking her with him. Caere was supposed to be exotic, exciting, at least
interesting. The monthly walk to and from the Temple was the only time she
really even got to stretch her legs.

When she reached the Healers’ Hall, Avaza asked the junior
Healer at the door for Boreala and was sent into the entrance hall to wait. She
stood by the arch, looking out at the garden beyond. It wasn’t a natural
landscape. Not even close. But it was the nearest thing she’d seen since coming
to Caere. She wondered if she was permitted to go out there.

She turned to see a man wearing a Healer’s badge staring at
her. Avaza tugged on the hem of her tunic and lifted her chin.

“What do
you
want here?” the man asked.

Avaza shrugged. “Urulu weed.” She looked beyond the man to
Boreala, who had just appeared in the doorway.

The man scowled. “What does a strong, healthy young woman
like you need urulu weed for? Go back home and do your duty, woman.”

“Andreus, if you want to preach, I’ll speak to Montibeus
about finding a place for you,” Boreala said sharply.

Andreus drew himself up and turned to face Boreala. “We
don’t dispense urulu weed to healthy young women.”

Boreala raised her eyebrows. She had to look up at the much
taller young man, but her expression left no doubt who was in charge here.
“First, Andreus,
you
do not tell
me
what we do and do not do. You
have stepped several rungs above your place. Not that it’s any business of
yours, but Avaza is a woman of the Dardani who will return to the plains next
summer. She doesn’t want to make that long ride heavy with child. A sensible
precaution, I think. And, lest you forget, it is not your business to question
my judgment. Now, get about your own business. And you need to practice the
skill of discretion. That’s also an important part of a Healer’s job. You have
just offended the wife of one of the sons of High Councilor Veleus.”

Andreus blanched. “I . . . I didn’t think. . .”

“No. You didn’t,” Boreala agreed. “Officious, narrow-minded prick!”
Boreala said when Andreus had left. “Never mind him, Avaza. I’ll see to it that
he doesn’t bother you again. However much it hurts his male ego, I am a Master
Healer and he is not. And never will be.”

Avaza watched Andreus walk away, eyes narrowed. That was the
first time anyone in the city had actually been rude to her. She didn’t like it
at all. She was still upset about the encounter when Vatar came home from the
guildhall.

“What’s wrong, Avaza?” he asked as soon as he saw her face.

Avaza shrugged. “One of the Healers was mean to me today.”

Vatar crossed the room and took her in his arms. “Mean to
you? In what way? Do I need to go deal with it?”

Avaza sniffed. At least Vatar didn’t dismiss her discomfort.
She shook her head slightly against his shoulder and sniffed again. “No.
Boreala dealt with him, I think.”

Vatar chuckled. “Probably better than I could.”

“She was very . . . forceful for someone so small,” Avaza
said.

Vatar nodded. “I don’t think size matters with Boreala. Her
body is small, but her spirit is huge.”

Avaza’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t like him praising another
woman. Especially when he was supposed to be comforting her. Well, then, if he
was going to be like that. She took a step back. “Vatar?”

“Yes?”

“Boreala said something else. She said you were the son of
some high . . . something or other.”

Vatar nodded. “High Councilor Veleus. Yes, he’s my father.
You met him that first day here, remember?”

Avaza blinked. “But Danar . . .”

“Danar is also my father,” Vatar said. “Veleus sired me and
Danar raised me. Danar stood for me when I got my Clan Mark.”

“And Boreala knows this—when I do not—because . . . ?”

Vatar tilted his head to one side and put his arms around
her again. “Cestus and Boreala are my half brother and sister. I have the impression
there are others, but those are the only two I know. And I did introduce Veleus
as my father here in Caere. I thought you understood.”

Avaza leaned back to look in his face. “But then . . .
you’re not Dardani at all?”

“Of course I’m Dardani,” Vatar said firmly. “I was raised
Dardani. I have the Clan Mark, as you well know. It doesn’t matter where you
come from. Once the Clan accepts you, you are Dardani.”

Avaza frowned, “That’s true. It’s just very confusing.”

Vatar chuckled again and kissed her neck. “You should have
seen me last year when I found out.”

~

When her cycle came around again, Avaza dragged her feet
about going back to the Healer’s Hall. Boreala had said that it was very
important that she come every month, but she didn’t want to run into that
arrogant Healer, Andreus, again. It wouldn’t hurt to wait just another day or
two, surely. Or another.

The next month, when she started feeling queasy in the
mornings, Avaza decided that she’d rather talk to Boreala about it than
Castalia. Anyway, Boreala was more likely to know what to do for it.

“Avaza! It’s been at least two months since you last came to
see me. I was beginning to wonder about you,” Boreala said. “Have you been
getting your Urulu weed from someone else?”

Avaza ducked her head. “I . . . may have forgotten. Can I
get some now?”

Boreala sighed. “Avaza, I explained to you that it must be
taken at the right point in your cycle to work properly. Timing is very
important. When was the start of your last moon cycle?”

Avaza thought for a moment. Then she looked at Boreala,
wide-eyed. “I don’t remember.”

Boreala sighed again. “All right. Let’s find out what we’re
dealing with. Come with me.”

Avaza followed Boreala into one of the patient rooms.

“Lay down, there,” Boreala said, pointing to the high bench.

Avaza lay back, wondering what this was all about. She’d
never had to do this before to get her monthly dose of urulu weed. Not even the
first time.

“Just relax.” Boreala moved Avaza’s hands to her sides, and
probed gently at her abdomen. Her face took on a distracted, unfocused look.
Then she stepped back with a sigh and helped Avaza to sit up. “As I feared.
Urulu weed will do you no good now. You’re already pregnant.”

Avaza cupped a hand over her belly. “P-pregnant?”

Boreala sat down on another bench. “Yes. About a month, I’d
guess. I know it’s not what you intended yet.”

Avaza swallowed. She couldn’t take in the possibility of a
baby in her near future. Near future? Did that mean she’d be forced to stay in
this stuffy city another year? She didn’t think she could stand that. “What
about . . . what about going back to Zeda in the summer?”

Boreala chewed her lip. “Well, it’s not ideal. And there’s
always the possibility of twins—that does sometimes happen after stopping urulu
weed. On the other hand, you’re young and strong. If everything is going
smoothly, it might not be a problem. I just can’t say right now, Avaza.” She
fixed Avaza with her eyes. “You need to come see me every month without fail.
That way I can help you make sure that everything is normal enough for you to
attempt that ride.”

Avaza nodded and sat up.

“Now, are you having any of the usual symptoms? Morning
sickness? Fatigue?”

Avaza nodded her head. “Not fatigue, but I have been feeling
sick in the mornings.”

Boreala smiled. “Well,
that
I can do something about.
I’ll give you a powder to mix with water in the mornings. That will make things
easier for you.”

Avaza left the Healer’s Hall clutching her little packet of
powder. How was she going to tell Vatar? Would he be pleased or irritated? It
was the woman’s responsibility to chew uza leaf—or take urulu weed—until the
couple decided together that it was time for a child. She’d failed at that.

One month, Boreala had said. Well, that meant she had a few
more before she had to make that decision. If she wasn’t ill in the mornings,
there wouldn’t be any other outward sign for at least two or three months, yet.
In fact, it would be at least another month or two before a Dardani woman would
expect to know something like this, so there was scarcely any reason to tell
Vatar, yet.

 

 

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