The Shaman's Curse (Dual Magics Book 1) (30 page)

“Is Vatar any good?” Teran asked Quetza.

“His strategy is surprising. It makes for a very interesting
game.”

Vatar chuckled. “That’s funny. Father always found my moves
too predictable.”

“We’ll have to play some evening, Vatar,” Thekila said.

“Any time you like,” Vatar answered, smiling up at her. That
was exactly what he’d had in mind all along.

~

The next day, Thekila finally came to their class. She
taught what Vatar knew as Far Speech and Far Sight. One by one, she asked the
student to bespeak her. Vatar had done this without knowing it dozens of times.
She’d coaxed him into Far Speech with Orleus just days ago. Yet with her
sitting right there in front of him, he couldn’t do it.

Thekila took Vatar aside after class. “Why do you doubt
yourself so fiercely? It’s only your own doubts that hold you back.”

Vatar half turned away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Thekila shook her head. “You’ve already proved that you can
do this, but now you back away from it like a frightened rabbit. What makes you
fear your Powers so?”

Vatar blew out his breath before answering. “The Dardani
distrust all magic. They say it comes from Evil Spirits. I don’t think I
believe in Evil Spirits, but . . . after Quetza’s class on distant
manipulation, I’m not sure what to think anymore.” He held up his injured hand.
“That kind of magic certainly can be used for evil.”

Thekila laid her hand on his arm. “Magic by itself is no
more good or evil than your muscles are. You use your muscles to work iron and
steel. To make things. Another man might use his to fight or to intimidate
others. Just like any other form of power, it’s only what you choose to do with
it that makes it good or bad.”

Vatar laid his hand over hers, conscious of the warmth of
his skin under her touch. “Maybe you’re right.”

Thekila squeezed his arm. “Whether you want them or not,
your Powers are part of who you are. You’ll never be complete until you
acknowledge that and come to grips with it. You’re a long way from the Dardani,
here. Forget about their superstitions for the moment and just be who you are.”
She looked up toward the door. “Oh, there are Teran and Terania, now. I told
them I’d join them for a walk before the evening meal. See you later, Vatar.”

Vatar watched her go. Teran put his arm around her briefly
as they took the steps down towards the Lake. Vatar felt the blood pounding in
his veins at the sight. He hated thinking of Thekila with Teran, even for an
evening walk. Even accompanied by Terania. If he was a better student, would
Thekila take him more seriously? How could she have much respect for him,
seeing him constantly outdone by ten-year-olds?

The next morning, before class, Vatar stumped down to the
water’s edge. He had to keep taking deep breaths, like Terania advised in her
focus classes, just to keep from wanting to scream. His fear of magic paled
before his terror of large, wave-filled bodies of water. He avoided looking out
at the deep water. He kept telling himself that the water’s edge wasn’t that
different from the verge of the Zeda water hole back home. What he wanted would
be there, in the shallows, anyway. He harvested a dozen of the hollow reeds and
took them back to his house to dry for later.

That night, he fashioned the reeds into a set of pipes. He
hadn’t played pipes like these in a long time, but he had to do something to
get Thekila’s attention away from Teran. He didn’t think he could play anything
very complex on them, even if his left hand wasn’t still stiff. Nothing like
Cestus’s intricate Caerean compositions. Best to stick with the simpler
melodies of the Dardani, the songs he knew well.

Every evening, he played on the pipes in his isolated little
house until he started to produce recognizable melodies. To his surprise, he
also found that playing the familiar melodies helped him to focus. He often
played the simple lullaby his mother had sung to him and later Kiara, Fenar and
his own twins. When he did, sometimes he saw, in his mind, Zavar and Savara as
they slept, side by side. Surely there was no harm in that. It was a good way
to end the day.

During quiet moments, Vatar reflected on what Thekila had
said. What
did
make magic so evil in the eyes of the Dardani? He
couldn’t remember anything ever
really
happening that he’d call magic,
outside of a few old stories. What experience did the Dardani even have of
magic? He’d been glad to use magic to see that Zavar and Savara were safe. Was
happy to use his Powers that way every night. He certainly didn’t feel that
there was any trace of evil in that. Except for Loran and his friends, all
Vatar had ever seen of magic had been good or, at worst, neutral. The Healers
were good, definitely. Boreala had used magic to save his mother’s life.

When he thought about it, it seemed obvious that the
Valson—or the Fasallon—would have more wisdom on the subject of magic than the
Dardani. The Dardani shunned any hint of magic, distrusting even the abilities
of the shaman at the same time that they relied on him to protect them from
“Evil Spirits”. The critical part of his brain, trained by Cestus, recognized
that as hypocrisy.

And the Tenets . . . well, if people with magic actually
followed
the Tenets, that wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Even at the Academy, he’d seen
enough to know that wasn’t true. There’d always be a few, even here, frustrated
by the restraints. That was their fault, though, not the fault of their
abilities—whatever those were. Even among the Dardani, there were those who
tried to skirt around the standards of conduct. It was the responsibility of
the chiefs and the clans to keep them in order. Though he hadn’t seen it in
operation, he imagined the Valson must have some method to do the same thing.

He remembered what Pa had told him when they left him in
Caere the first time.
Never pass up an opportunity to learn about something
new. Other peoples have wisdom different from ours, but it is still wisdom.
Learn it. You never know where your life will take you or what knowledge or
people may be of help to you. So learn about other people and learn the things
that they know, whenever you can.
Well, that certainly applied here, didn’t
it?

He needed to open his mind and learn what he could while he
was here. He knew how to do that, if he would just allow himself to do it.
Cestus’s lessons had taught him more than the subjects they covered. He’d also
learned
how
to learn. And, if he happened to gain Thekila’s approval,
that wouldn’t be a bad thing, either.

~

Thekila smiled at Vatar’s progress when she taught the class
again. The effort had been well worthwhile for that smile. It made him bold. He
had been practicing every night on the pipes he’d made and there was one song
he was eager to play for her. Vatar approached her after the class ended.

Thekila smiled at him again. “You did very well, today,
Vatar.”

Vatar smiled back. “I’ve been trying to take your advice.”

She patted his arm. “I’m glad. It seems to be working for
you.”

Vatar cleared his throat. “Thekila, I hoped, maybe, you
would come by tonight. I miss the talks we had while I was recovering. And I .
. . I’ve made something I want to show you. If . . . if that’s not improper . .
. since I’m a student now.”

Thekila shook her head. “Not tonight, Vatar. I’ve already
promised Teran and Terania to practice with them this evening. Some other
time.”

Vatar’s heart seemed to shrink. He clenched his jaw until he
saw spots in front of his eyes. It was always Teran. “I wish you wouldn’t spend
so much time with Teran. You never have time for—” It was out before he had a
chance to stop himself.

Thekila’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you think you can tell
me who to spend my time with? I’ll go where I please and see whom I please.”

Vatar backed up a step. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s
just . . . Teran is . . . I want . . .”

Thekila’s nostril’s flared. Her green eyes flashed with
anger. “I’m not interested in what you want. Teran is like a brother to me.”

Vatar’s lips thinned. “I don’t think that’s how he sees
himself. He’s . . .”

Thekila advanced, punching a finger into Vatar’s chest. “You
don’t know anything about Teran. I’ve known him for ten years. He and Terania
have been very good to me. No one is going to tell me not to spend time with
them—or anybody else I choose. Would you tell me I can’t see Theklan, too?”

Vatar took another step back and held out his hands, palms
up. “Of course not. It’s just . . .”

Thekila backed away and crossed her arms across her chest.
“It’s just Teran you dislike. Well, that’s your problem, not mine. You’re not
coming between me and my family.”

Vatar raised his arms toward her, pleading. “I don’t want to
do that! I would never . . .”

Thekila jerked her chin up. “No one tells me what I can and
can’t do. Nobody controls me.”

Vatar raked his hand through his hair. Suddenly he felt like
those last months with Avaza, when he couldn’t say anything right. And it
mattered so much more than it ever had with Avaza. He’d give anything to take
those words back. This time, he’d put his own foot squarely in it, though. He
just didn’t know how to pull it back out. “I don’t want to control you. It came
out wrong . . .”

Thekila stalked out of the classroom.

~

Vatar sat at an empty table in the dining hall that night.
The way Thekila had turned her face away from him when he came in made it
perfectly clear that she didn’t want him to sit with her. Theklan apparently
didn’t know about the quarrel. He came and sat with Vatar. Not that that helped
much.

“How come you’re over here? You usually eat with Thekila and
her friends,” Theklan asked.

“I . . . just felt like it,” Vatar said. But his eyes kept
going to Thekila’s flame-red hair, where she sat with her back to him. And he
ate very little of his dinner.

Vatar wandered back to his small house. He wanted to kick
angrily at the stones in the path, but his crutch made that difficult and the
pain in his ankle forced him to stop trying. But the physical pain did not
drown out the other. She had misunderstood him. She hadn’t even given him a
chance to explain what he meant. And now she wouldn’t even look at him, much
less talk to him. That last thought cut like a knife. It made his chest tighten
so that he could hardly breathe.

Vatar sat disconsolately on the bed. Not knowing what else
to do, he picked up the pipes and began to play his mother’s lullaby. He found
it unusually difficult to concentrate. He did manage to see Zavar and Savara
sleeping for a moment. But his throat was too constricted to allow him to
continue playing the lullaby. He lay down, fully clothed, and stared at the
ceiling. He couldn’t sleep, either. And when he did doze off, dreams of Thekila
turning her back, turning to Teran instead of him, woke him. This was
ridiculous! Why should he feel so miserable over a simple misunderstanding? But
the thought of Thekila walking away from him, refusing ever to talk to him
again, burned like fire. How had she become so important to him in such a short
time? It didn’t matter. She was. He had to blink back tears. Tears! He hadn’t
cried since Torkaz died. Why did this feel like another kind of death?

~

Vatar didn’t know if he was happier or more miserable when
Thekila came to teach their class again a couple of seven-days later. She had
to look at him, at least. But there was no warmth in her eyes.

“Today, we will practice bespeaking again,” she said.
“However, this time, you will attempt to contact someone who is not in this
room, someone you cannot see as you bespeak them. This is more difficult, so it
is best to try to contact a relative or someone you know well. Choose whom you
will contact. Focus your thoughts. And begin.”

Vatar knew he couldn’t contact Danar, Lucina, or Kiara, much
as he wanted to. They didn’t have the Talent to hear him. It had to be the
other side of his family. He thought of Veleus, concentrated, and in his mind
said,
“Father?”

“Orleus?”
The reply was barely more than a whisper.
Did distance matter in Far Speech?

“No. Vatar.”

“Vatar!”
Vatar felt his father take hold and make the
connection firm and solid.

“I’m supposed to be doing this, Father,”
Vatar said.
“It’s
practice.”

“You can practice next time,”
Veleus answered with a
mental wave of his hand.
“Are you well?”

Vatar drew in a breath before answering.
“Mending.”

“Then you were injured? Badly?”

Vatar flexed his left hand and winced.
“Yes. Mostly
broken bones. They’re healing.”

“What happened?”

Vatar shook his head.
“There’s too much. It’d take too
long to tell. I’ll explain when I get back.”

He could sense Father’s smile.
“I have all day. And
I
can maintain the contact that long. But you can summarize, if you prefer.”

Vatar sighed
. “What do you already know?”

“I know about the Ordeal. I sent Orleus and Cestus to
help you, but they never caught up to you. They tracked you to a mountain pass,
but it was blocked by snow. Orleus thought you were being pursued.”

“Orleus? He’s the one I spoke to in Pa’s camp isn’t he?”

“Yes. He’s a great hunter as well as being Captain of the
Tysoean Guard. I thought he’d prove useful in your Ordeal.”

Vatar ducked his head to hide the tears of gratitude that
sprung up in his eyes. Father had sent two more of his sons into danger to help
him. Cestus at least knew Vatar. Orleus was a brother he’d never even met. Yet
they’d both come to his aid. He swallowed hard before answering.
“Orleus was
right. I was pursued.”

“By whom?”

“Valson. People from the Valley.”

“Where is this valley?”
Father asked

“Here.”

“From there! Are you safe?”
Vatar could hear the
alarm in his father’s mental voice.

“Yes. Yes, I’m safe enough.”

“Well, what happened?”
Veleus asked, frustration
growing in his tone.

Vatar sighed.
“It started as a misunderstanding. It was
mostly just small mischief at first. I tried to stay out of their way, but they
can transform. And I accidentally injured one of them who was in the shape of a
stag.”

“They have Talent?”

“Yes. They call it Powers.”

“Go on,”
Father said.

“They came to my camp in animal form. I . . . I
killed
one of them.”

“Ah! Orleus said one had been wounded in the gut.”

“Keran. Yes.”
Vatar’s regret was clear in his tone.
“After
that, things got serious. They chased me across the Forest. I almost made it
here.”

“Almost?”
Father asked.

“They caught up to me in the pass. But other Valson came
to rescue me. The ones who chased me were breaking their laws. And now the
Valson are training me while I heal. Until the snow melts.”

“They rescued you? How did they know you were there? And
how did you know where to go?”

“They said I was sending a call for help.”
Vatar
said,
answering the first question.

“Yes. Orleus picked up on that, too.”

Vatar bit his lip.
“Father?”

“Yes?”

“Are my family safe and well? I felt panic from Zavar
some time ago.”

“They’re safe now. Orleus is usually quite terse in his
communications, but I gather Maktaz instigated it.”

Vatar blinked.
“Maktaz? He’s alone in the Northern
Wilderness.”

“No. He cheated. He was caught outside the camp of
another clan. It seems he persuaded some of them to kidnap your children, but
they were stopped. They are currently being held by other clans until they can
be judged.”

“It seemed to me that Pa was hurt.”

“Yes. He got a slash on the back from one of the would-be
kidnappers. Orleus says he’s healing well. Orleus and Cestus will stay until
you return.”

“Thank you.”
Vatar tried to let the connection go.

Father refused to release it.
“You didn’t answer my other
question, Vatar. How did you know where to go for help?”

“I’m not sure. I knew there was help here, but I don’t
know how I knew. At first, I just went east because there was no other way to
go. But the nearer I got, the more sure I was that I had to come here. Father .
. . ?”

“Yes?”

Vatar stole a glance up to the front of the room, where
Thekila sat.
“Do you remember when I told you that I didn’t have any Talent?
That the only person I saw and heard in my mind was a woman who was only a
fantasy?”

“Yes.”
Veleus conveyed an I-told-you-so chuckle with
his answer.

“She’s here. She’s been real all the time. I think . . .
I think I may have been coming to her, not this place. Does that make sense?”

“Ah! Yes, it could.”
It seemed to Vatar that there
was something Father wasn’t telling him.
“Vatar, will she be coming back
with you?”

Vatar blinked against the threat of more tears.
“I don’t
know. I don’t think so.”
He knew he hadn’t been able to hide the longing
and hurt in that statement.

Vatar almost felt as if Father had given him a brief hug.
“Now
that you know how to contact me, I expect to hear from you more often.”
With that, Father broke the contact.

~

Vatar had been completely miserable ever since the quarrel
with Thekila. He was morose or irritable by turns. Even Theklan had stopped
sitting with him in the dining hall. During his solitary walks and sleepless
nights, he had realized how much he loved Thekila, which didn’t help. He knew
he had understood it too late. He’d ruined their relationship. What could he
do, now?