The Voice of Prophecy (Dual Magics Book 2) (3 page)

Wait. What? Full-sized? But hadn’t Quetza just said that was
impossible? He hadn’t meant to do anything more than Thekila asked of him. Not
something
else
mysterious about his magic. Seeing through the eyes of
the lion had been bad enough. Apparently by instinct, his unfamiliar body
responded to his sudden fear by trying to leap backward—and ended up in a heap.

Thekila laughed. “Slow down, Vatar. It’ll take practice to
learn to walk, let alone jump, on all fours.”

Vatar’s attempt to answer her came out as a roar. His
concentration evaporated dumping him back into his true form. He drew in a
ragged breath, trying to calm himself. “I wasn’t masking, Thekila.”

Thekila opened her mouth and then shut it again with a snap.
She shook her head. “Vatar, that’s not possible.”

Vatar fell back on his haunches and dropped his head into
his hands. He rocked slightly. “I wasn’t masking. That . . . just happened.”

Thekila put a hand on his shoulder. “Relax. I’m sure
everything’s all right.” She raised her voice. “Quetza, could you come here for
a moment?”

Quetza looked around the side of the tent. “What is it?”

Thekila beckoned her over. “Vatar’s shape change was a
full-sized lion. But he says he wasn’t doing the second masking Transformation.
How is that possible?”

Orleus followed Quetza back to the fire pit, looking
relieved at the interruption.

“Do it again, Vatar,” Quetza said, turning to him.

Vatar clenched his jaw. That was the last thing he wanted to
do, but if he wanted an answer, he’d have to. He formed the image of the lion
and put himself into it. It was easier the second time. The stretching didn’t
last as long, almost as if some other force were helping to pull him into the
shape. Quetza reached out to touch the top of the lion’s head. At Quetza’s
signal, he released the Transformation and fell back to sit cross-legged on the
damp ground.

“Well?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound as desperate for an
answer as he felt.

Quetza’s brows knitted together even as her hand flew to her
mouth. “It was solid, not an illusion. You really weren’t adding a second shape
change.”

Vatar clasped his hands between his knees to keep them from
trembling. “I told you I wasn’t.”

Quetza shook her head. “I don’t understand it. That lion was
easily twice your actual size. That shouldn’t be possible.”

Vatar’s shoulders sagged. “Then what happened?” His voice was
shaking. Everything about his magic was going wrong, doing unexpected things.
First that strange view through the eyes of the lion this morning, almost as if
he had become the lion, and now this. “What’s happening to me?”

Quetza sat down in front of him. “It’s strange, Vatar. But
it’s certainly no reason to panic.”

He looked up, not at Quetza, but at Thekila. “Am I . . .
really becoming a lion?”

Quetza snorted. “Of course not. Our magic can do a lot of
things, but it can’t change our basic nature.”

Thekila knelt beside him and took his hand. “What’s wrong,
Vatar? This is more than just your shape change.”

Vatar clung to her hand. “Strange things have been happening
today. And I don’t like it.”

“What kind of strange things?” Quetza asked. “Something
besides this?”

Vatar drew a deep breath and nodded. “When we were riding
here, I sensed lions nearby. That’s not unusual for a member of the Lion Clan.
But I
saw
that the lions were hunting a herd of wild horses. It was like
I actually saw through the lion’s eyes for a moment. Almost like I
was
one of them. I shouldn’t have been able to do that. It’s never happened to me
before.”

Quetza shook her head. “I don’t understand your Dardani
magic.”

Vatar looked up, shaking his head. “My connection to the
Spirit of the Lion isn’t magic. It’s nothing at all like the Fasallon magic.
Every member of the Lion Clan can sense lions nearby and know generally what
sort of mood they’re in. Nothing more.”

Quetza arched one eyebrow. “It certainly sounds like magic
to me. But you know more about it than I do. Maybe you should ask someone else
who does understand it.”

“The shaman?” Vatar asked. “But he doesn’t know anything
about Valson or Fasallon magic. He won’t know anything about that
Transformation.”

Quetza cocked her head to one side. “Maybe not.
Is
there anyone who knows about both?”

Vatar didn’t even have to think about it. No Dardani would
want
to know about Fasallon magic. Much too dangerous. And he was sure no Fasallon, before
him, had ever been initiated into a Dardani Clan. He was the first. “No. I
don’t think any other Valson or Fasallon know anything at all about the totem
Spirits. And I’m sure no Dardani would even ask about Fasallon magic.”

Thekila snorted agreement. Then she cocked her head to one
side. “Whether it’s magic or not, your Spirit of the Lion does seem to have
some effect on your Fasallon magic. Otherwise, what’s that shadowy lion I
always see in my mind when you bespeak me—and . . .” she glanced back toward
their tent, “other times.”

Vatar shrugged. Maybe because he wasn’t aware of it himself,
he’d never given much thought to the lion Thekila said she could sense about
his Far Speech. His eyes darted toward the tent. She hadn’t mentioned noticing
it any other time. At least it didn’t seem to bother her. “Maybe the Spirit of
the Lion shows up in my Far Speech, but I don’t see how it could have done
that
.”

Thekila squeezed Vatar’s hand. “If it bothers you that much,
we’ll just have to talk to the best experts we can find on each.”

Quetza sighed and rubbed her temples. “It wouldn’t hurt to
consult your shaman, at least as far as your Spirits are concerned.”

 “There’s Father, too,” Orleus said. “You really should
talk to Father about this when you get to Caere. Maybe even before. Especially
now that you’ve done a fourth-level Transformation.”

Vatar nodded glumly. “I don’t like not understanding things.
Especially things that concern me. And most especially things to do with my
magic.”

Thekila’s free hand rose to Vatar’s shoulder and she gave
him a little shake. “If you’re the first person with Fasallon magic to also be
initiated into a Dardani clan, we’re all in uncharted territory here. But we’re
up to the challenge. We’ll find the answer. Anyway, none of it seems
particularly threatening to me.” She leaned over to kiss him.

Orleus coughed and tilted his head up to study the sky. “I
think it may rain again.”

Vatar broke off the kiss, but continued to hold Thekila
close against him.

Quetza gave Thekila a conspiratorial wink. “I think we
interrupted them too soon, Orleus. They can use a little more time out here
together. We can come back out tomorrow and bring a fresh horse for Thekila
with us. That’ll be easier on everyone. Besides, I think we should all take a
little time to let what just happened sink in before we go running around
chasing unsupported theories.”

Vatar reached over and pulled his traveling pack closer. He fished
in it for the simple reed pipes. He wasn’t going to do any more Transformations
for a long time, no matter what Thekila said. But Far Speech and Far Sight were
probably still safe enough. And he did always feel better after making sure the
twins were happy and safe.

He brought the pipes to his lips and played the lullaby that
helped him to concentrate on his children. Far Sight allowed him to see them
just settling down for the night. Zavar turned towards him and smiled. The
little boy whispered something to Savara, who smiled, too. Vatar lowered the
pipes.

If not for the twins, he’d have left with his cousin Arcas
and his other half-brother, Cestus. They’d be in Caere tomorrow or the next
day. Then he and Thekila wouldn’t have to sneak off for a little privacy
either. Not in the farmhouse he and Arcas owned outside the city walls. Thekila
would likely be more comfortable in the coastal city, too. He knew the Dardani
way of life was hard for her. Caere wasn’t much like anything he’d seen in the
Valley, but the neat, furnished house was much more like what she was used to
than a one-room sod hut.

He meant to spend the winter in Caere anyway. It was so much
easier to do his blacksmithing there than to cart the raw materials across the
plains. But he’d wanted more time with the twins. And he didn’t feel
comfortable taking them to Caere, within reach of the Searchers whose task it
was to make sure that any child with Fasallon magic was raised under the
control of the Fasallon. Especially not when Zavar could already sense Vatar’s
Far Sight.

If they’d gone, though, maybe none of these strange things
would have happened to worry him.

Thekila snuggled in next to him. Vatar studied her face in
the moonlight and smiled. They were here, now, and they had at least one night
of privacy ahead of them. It’d be a shame to waste it. And there were
definitely some kinds of magic he wasn’t going to be afraid of. He raised the
pipes to his lips again and played a haunting love song of the Dardani. The
first music he’d ever played for her. She smiled, too, at the memory. Thekila
sang along with his pipes. The frogs made an odd, but not inappropriate
counterpoint to the music. Vatar lowered the pipes again and sang the answering
male part in his light baritone. They finished the refrain together and then
left the rest of the music-making to the frogs.

~

Thekila woke early. Something about the eerie quiet of the
plains made it hard to sleep. Maybe it was this quiet in the early hours at
home in the Valley, too. But she’d always been tucked away in her house,
unaware of it. Vatar, dark hair tousled, lay beside her, still sound asleep.
She didn’t want to disturb him with her restlessness, so she got up and went
outside.

The night was already fading towards dawn. The frogs had
long since ceased their love songs. Even the night insects had stopped their
thrumming and the day insects had not started, yet. The air was still, not even
enough breeze to move the tall grasses where the horses were hobbled. They had
walked a little distance as they grazed, but now stood together with their
heads down in sleep. The rumbling of her stomach was loud in the silence. Well,
it was nearly morning. She might as well start the breakfast since she was
awake anyway.

Thekila had just started to stir the embers of the fire to
life when a mighty roar and the terrified neighing of the horses made her turn.
Her heart galloped. A huge, shaggy shape moved in the near-darkness. The
monster, whatever it was, pulled one of the horses to the ground. Thekila screamed.

~

Vatar woke with a start at the roar and the neighing horses.
He didn’t need Thekila’s scream to tell him there was trouble, but it still
made his heartbeat race even faster. He grabbed his spear and ran out of the
tent. He breathed again when he saw that Thekila was all right. Following her
gaze, he saw what had—appropriately—frightened her.

The hair on his arms rose up. A bear attacking the horses
was very bad news. Bears were extremely unpredictable. The best course was to
get to some kind of safety because it could turn on them at any moment. Which
meant . . . Thekila was in danger. That decided him. “Get back. Climb a tree if
you can. Or wade out in the waterhole. It’s not too deep.”

Vatar didn’t wait to see that she did as he instructed. He
charged forward, yelling a wordless cry, and thrust with his spear at the bear.
The monster roared as the spear bit into its side, just behind one foreleg.
Vatar pulled his spear free and ran backwards. He had to get out of range
before the bear could turn and swipe him with one of those huge paws. As he
stepped away, he tripped over a rock and fell on his back.
Fool, use your
magic.
Vatar didn’t have time to wonder at the strange thought. The bear
was almost on him. How could he use his magic in this situation? Far Speech and
Far Sight weren’t going to be much help. That only left . . . Transformations.
A bear wouldn’t normally charge a full-grown plains lion.

He only had moments. That strange calm that he’d sometimes
felt in times of emergency filled him. He concentrated on the black-tipped
white lion and felt himself pulled into the image. His spear clattered to the
ground as he landed on all fours again. Vatar wasted no time. He lifted his
massive head and roared at the bear.

The beast lurched back, startled, but then it hesitated.
Vatar realized his mistake too late. This was a very large bear and obviously
hungry. It might consider attacking a single lion. There was no way Vatar could
deal with that. He couldn’t even walk in this form, yet, let alone fight. It’d
take a whole pride scare this bear off.

Well, why not? He knew how to do that. Vatar concentrated
still harder to form the images of two lionesses and project them to either
side. It was harder than he expected to keep the image of all three lions equally
in his mind. His limbs trembled with the effort. When he felt he had them firm,
he roared again, imagining the two lionesses roaring with him. Was it the
strain, or were there more lionesses than there should be?

That did it. The bear roared once, turned, and ran off, its
ungainly gait made more awkward by the wound to its side. Vatar’s heart,
already beating hard from the stress, sped up. The bear was running straight
for the middle of the camp. And Thekila. Why hadn’t she gotten to safety?

Thekila shrieked as the bear rushed towards her. And froze.

Vatar screamed and let all the Transformations go. On all
fours, and dizzy from the exertion, he couldn’t even grab his spear and run
after the bear. He had to do something. Fast. But what?

Instinctively, he reached with everything in him to protect
Thekila. He heard a voice in his head. This time he was sure it was a voice,
not his own thought.
Stop! It’s too dangerous. You’re not ready. You’re
doing too much.
He didn’t have time to think about that right now. From
somewhere, he found the Power to deflect the bear. He didn’t know how and he
didn’t care.

The bear bounced back from Thekila as if it had struck a
barrier. Vatar gasped at the pain. The air was driven from his lungs as if the
bear had struck him full force. His head felt like someone was driving spikes
through his eyes. The last clear thing he saw was the bear shambling off away
from Thekila. Relief flooded him. And then he pitched forward into blackness.

~

Thekila couldn’t move or turn away after Vatar ran past her
with his spear. Her legs wouldn’t move.
When
she saw him take lion form and then project the image of two lionesses, she
summoned enough concentration to add two more lionesses behind Vatar’s.

She exhaled, smiling. Evidently, Vatar wasn’t as spooked
about his Powers as she’d feared.

But then the bear turned and came right for her.

Thekila struggled to find that same level of calm
concentration Vatar had just shown. Her avatar was an eagle. If she could just
shape change as he had and push herself off the ground, she could fly out of
harm’s way. It wasn’t so easy to master the primal fear, though. She summoned
every bit of the discipline she’d learned in her years at the Academy and still
it was too late. The bear was almost on top of her. Even if she managed to take
her eagle form, she’d never get airborne in time. Then the bear bounced back as
if it had hit a wall and ran off in a new direction. Unbelieving, she watched
it go. And turned back to Vatar just in time to see him crumple to the ground.
She ran to his side, calling his name, but she got no answer.

Forcing herself to breathe slowly and deeply, Thekila probed
gently, trying to reach Vatar’s mind. That should have been easy. It wasn’t.
He’d come within a hair of burning himself out. He was still in there, but oh,
so faint and far away.

What could she do, alone out here? Breathe. She wasn’t
alone, or she needn’t be for long. She focused her thought on her friend.
“Quetza!”

“What? Thekila?”
Quetza sounded half awake. Thekila
had forgotten how early it still was. So much had happened it felt like it
should be noon, at least.

“Quetza, I need you. There was a bear. Vatar’s injured.”

That woke Quetza.
“What happened?”

“I’m not sure. I think he came close to burning himself
out. He’s unconscious. Come quickly.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Talking to Quetza and knowing that her friend was on her way
helped settle Thekila. She looked around her. The horses had run off out of
sight beyond the trees. How far could they get with their hobbles? She didn’t
know and she didn’t know what to do about it. That problem would have to wait
until Quetza and perhaps Orleus arrived. Orleus would know what to do. Maybe
she should contact Quetza and ask her to bring Orleus along. No. That wouldn’t
be necessary. Quetza had probably already woken Orleus. She’d need him to get
the horses.

What else could she do? Get Vatar into the tent so he didn’t
lie here in the sun. Thekila, at only about half his weight, could never lift
or even drag Vatar. Not in the ordinary way. Fortunately, she didn’t have to
rely on muscle for this. She had a Power Vatar lacked. She could move objects
with her magic and she was very good at it. Only, she couldn’t move living
objects—not directly.

She ran into the tent for one of their blankets and spread
it out next to him. With difficulty, she managed to roll Vatar onto the
blanket. She grabbed up his spear and tied the blanket to it across the top. It
was crude, but it was enough for her to work with. Using her magic, not her
hands, Thekila lifted the spear and dragged Vatar into the comparative shelter
of the tent on the makeshift travois. Then she sat down beside him, and
clutched his hand in hers.

Thekila was drawn out of her vigil, sitting next to Vatar’s
unconscious form, by the frantic neighing of the horses. She leapt to the tent
flap just in time to see a white wyvern settling on the far side of the
waterhole. She ran forward to greet Quetza even as her form melted back into
that of a woman.

“Sorry,” Quetza said, nodding in the direction of the
horses. “But it was the quickest way to get here. I would have been quicker, if
I hadn’t had to ride far enough out of Zeda not to be seen by the Dardani. Now
what happened?”

Thekila told her the story as completely as she could as
they walked back to the small camp.

“Three shape changes? And whatever turned the bear aside.
It’s no wonder he almost burned himself out.”

After checking on Vatar, Quetza led Thekila back outside. “I
don’t think he’ll wake for a while. And there’s not much to be done until he
does. You go sit by him if it will make you feel better. I’ll fix some
breakfast, since none of us had a chance to eat.”

“We just wait?” Thekila asked.

“Until he wakes up. Then we’ll be able to determine how
severe the damage is and what we need to do about it.”

~

Vatar groaned and opened his eyes. By the light coming
through the tent flap it was early afternoon. How long had he been out? He
tried to get an arm under him to lever himself up. There were things he needed
to take care of. Make sure of.

Thekila put her hand on his shoulder to keep him from
sitting up. “Stay down. You need to rest. And the headache won’t be as bad if
you stay down.”

He blinked up at her. At least she was safe. That was the
biggest thing. “What happened?”

She smiled crookedly. “That’s what we’ve been wondering.”

“I meant, what happened with the bear.”

Thekila turned toward the tent flap. “Quetza! He’s awake!”
Then she turned back to him again. “The bear ran off. Orleus has recaptured the
horses for us, but my mare is badly injured.” She winced. “Orleus doesn’t think
she’ll recover. I’m more concerned about you.”

“The bear’s wounded. I should—”

Orleus ducked into the tent, just behind Quetza. “Quetza and
I will take care of the bear. Later. Its tracks are clear. Seeker will have no
trouble following that trail.”

Vatar’s brows pinched together.
Seeker? Oh, yes. That’s
what Orleus calls the bigger and heavier of his two dogs. The one he says is
trained to follow scent trails.

He breathed out. Orleus and Quetza must have been waiting
just outside. Thekila hadn’t been alone, then, while he was unconscious and a
potentially dangerous wounded bear was somewhere nearby.
Good
.

Quetza knelt beside Vatar, across from Thekila. “Okay, Vatar,
I want you to very gently reach out and bespeak Thekila. Just say her name,
nothing more.”

Vatar did as she asked. Nothing happened. What was wrong?
This should be easy. He tried harder.

Quetza gripped his shoulder. “Don’t push too hard!”