Beyond the Prophecy (16 page)

“Surely you remember, Teran,” Thekila said. “When Loran and
the others came back after attacking Vatar. The Council exiled them and most of
their families went with them.”

“Oh, them. What about them?”

Quetza answered, “They’ve conquered or overawed or somehow
subjugated a primitive tribe called the Themyri. Now, they’ve come up from the
south, through the Kragehul Mountains. And they’re attacking Tysoe and its
outposts. But, knowing Nertan and Wartan, I’d bet their goal is something
greater than that. They’re using their Powers—both to keep the Themyri under
their control and to fight against us. We need help—the kind of help only the
Valson can give—to combat them.”

Teran frowned. “I doubt the Council will agree. It’s too far
away to be of concern to us, here.”

“No concern of yours?” Vatar had to restrain himself from
slamming his cup of tea down on the table. But that would wake Jadar. Still, he
could barely believe what he was hearing. “The Council created this situation
by exiling them and not making any provision to even try to ensure that they didn’t
endanger anyone else—after what they said in front of the Council and even
after they tried to attack us leaving the Council. They’re shattering your
precious Tenets. What does it take to make it your business?”

Thekila placed a hand on Vatar’s arm. “We have to try,
anyway. Maybe what Quetza has seen will change their minds. We also have an
invitation from the Fasallon High Council to the Valson Council. They would
welcome an emissary and the possibility of an alliance.”

Teran shrugged. “I don’t know about an alliance. The Council
may agree to send an emissary, though.”

Thekila smiled and gave Vatar’s hand a quick squeeze. “Well,
they’d have a lot to gain from sending an emissary. Perhaps even from an
alliance. I think Vatar can show them that.”

“What would they have to gain?” Terania asked.

Thekila couldn’t quite keep the smile from her lips. “Why, a
chance to study unusual new Powers.”

“What sort of unusual Powers?” Teran looked between them.
“And whose?”

Vatar huffed a sigh. “Mine.” He paused. “I’d probably better
start at the beginning. My Fasallon Talents aren’t the only kind of magic I
have.”

Teran leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

“My people, the Dardani, have a different form of magic.
They don’t call it that, but I’ve come to realize that’s what it is
nevertheless. It’s . . . it’s a spiritual connection with our Totem Spirit. I’m
Lion Clan, so for me that’s the plains lion. Ordinarily, that should only let
me sense the presence of lions and give me a general idea whether they’re
hunting or resting.”

Teran’s eyes widened. “I’ve never heard of this kind of
magic. Why didn’t you mention it when you were here before? Do you have any
idea how rare truly new magic is?”

Vatar shook his head. “I didn’t have it, then. I was cut off
from the Spirit of the Lion when I left on my Ordeal. I wasn’t reunited with it
until after I returned to my people.”

“That’s when the first odd thing happened,” Thekila put in.
“Although it didn’t seem very important at the time. It’ll be easier to show
you, I think. Vatar, why don’t you bespeak Teran?”

Vatar glanced at her. No, from her expression he could see
he wasn’t going to get out of this. Best to just do it, then. He looked across
the table at Teran and thought the other man’s name.

Teran scooted back in his chair so violently that he almost
tipped it over. “Merciful Maker! What was that?”

Thekila’s smile dimpled with mischief. “So you saw the lion,
too? That started right after he was taken back into his clan and made part of
the Spirit of the Lion again. It’s some kind of interaction of the two kinds of
magic.”

“How do you know it’s the combination of magic?”

“Because the same things happened to me when I was adopted
into the Eagle Clan summer before last.” Thekila’s eyes lost focus as she
bespoke Teran herself.

Teran blinked, obviously having seen the eagle that
accompanied her Far Speech now.

“And that’s not all,” Thekila said. “Wait until you see his
avatar. And mine.”

Quetza chuckled. “If the Dardani had a Wyvern Clan, I’d
consider getting adopted myself.”

Vatar looked around. The dining hall was beginning to fill
up. He gave Thekila’s hand a little squeeze. She was going way too fast.
Besides, he didn’t want to be asked to demonstrate his Transformation here,
with an audience. “Thekila, if we’re going to do this, we should take it all in
order. Seeing through the eyes of the lions was next.”

She smiled up at him. “So it was.”

“And this may not be the best place to continue this
discussion,” Vatar added.

“Your house has been kept for you, in case you returned,”
Terania said. “Yours, too, Quetza.”

Thekila grinned. “That’s perfect. Let’s go there to talk.”

~

Vatar was glad Thekila had thought to bring a pitcher of
cider and one of water back with them. He needed the liquid to ease his throat
after answering all of Teran’s questions about the Dardani Spirit magic. At
least, he hoped that was all of the man’s questions. Teran had asked about
things Vatar had never thought about—including a few things he wouldn’t mind
discussing with Trev. What magic was invested in the clan totem masks? And how
had it gotten there? The masks were very old. No one living remembered how
they’d been made in the first place—at least not that Vatar knew about.

Teran sat forward as Vatar finished his cup of cider. “Now,
Thekila mentioned something about your avatars?”

Vatar swallowed. Since that first complete Transformation,
before they’d learned that the interaction of the two kinds of magic was the
cause, Vatar had mostly avoided using his avatar if he could help it. But this
was going to require a demonstration. There was no way he or Thekila were going
to make Teran believe the change in their avatars unless the man saw it for
himself.

The rules of Transformations—shape changes, as the Valson
called them—were simple. It was Quetza who’d drilled them into Vatar before
he’d attempted his first Transformation. The most basic principle was that the
avatar—or any shape change, really—had to be the same size as the object—or
person—being changed. The weight could be redistributed in any way necessary,
but the new shape couldn’t be bigger—or smaller—than the original. He and
Thekila were the only two exceptions they knew of. Well, Theklan might be a
third, when he eventually learned to do a complete shape change—if he chose the
eagle as his avatar. It all seemed to depend on the interaction of an avatar
that was the same as their clan totem, at least as far as they’d been able to
determine.

Vatar set down his cup and stood up, moving to the center of
the small room. Thekila and Quetza, knowing what was coming, moved their chairs
back against the far wall. Vatar glanced around, then looked at Teran. “Maybe
you and Terania should move back a little, too.”

“You’ve got plenty of room,” Teran objected.

Vatar shook his head. “Just trust me on this.”

When he felt he had enough space, Vatar closed his eyes and
concentrated on the shape of a plains lion, as always altered to fit the Valson
conventions. Which meant his lion was white with a black mane and tail tuft to
distinguish it from an ordinary lion. When he had the image clear in his mind,
he put himself into it. Compared to the Transformations he’d done for the
Festival, this one was easy. The Spirit of the Lion seemed to pull him into
this shape.

When the shift was complete, Vatar opened his eyes and
looked up slightly at Teran, lashing his tail.

Teran shrugged. “It’s impressive that you’ve learned to add
a masking shape change to make your avatar appear full-sized in so short a
time, but that’s hardly new. I can do that.”

“He’s not masking,” Thekila said.

Quetza shook her head. “Put your hand on his head, Teran.”

Teran gave the women a skeptical look, but Quetza just
nodded encouragingly.

Teran took too large a step forward, clearly expecting to contact
Vatar somewhere behind what he thought was a masking shape change. Vatar
growled as Teran barely missed stepping on one huge paw. And then Teran’s hand
smacked the top of Vatar’s head, just in front of his mane.

Teran leapt back a half-step. “That’s not possible.”

“Obviously, it is,” Quetza said. “Though Vatar and Thekila
are the only two cases we have. Their avatars are the same as their totem
Spirits. That seems to be what makes the difference. Vatar tried a bear shape
once. It was harder for him and followed all the usual rules. His lion, though
. . . well, you can see—and feel—for yourself. It’s more than twice his size.”

Teran stepped back again, looking at Thekila. “You, too?”

In response, Thekila flowed into her eagle avatar. In its
own way, hers was even more surprising than Vatar’s, because her avatar was
only the size of an ordinary eagle.
That
really shouldn’t have been
possible, even with a second, masking shape change.

Terania, who was closest, put a tentative hand out to stroke
the feathers along Thekila’s back. “That’s even more unbelievable.”

“You say this is part of your Spirit magic?” Teran asked.

Vatar released his concentration and returned to his normal
shape so he could answer. “By itself, the Spirit magic doesn’t allow any kind
of shape change. Just the ability to sense our totem animals. This seems to be
an interaction between the two kinds of magic.”

After that, they spent so long talking about Dardani Spirit
magic and with Vatar and Thekila demonstrating their Transformations that it
had gotten quite late before they’d come near to exhausting the subject.
Thekila stretched and yawned. “Sorry.” She leaned her head on Vatar’s chest.

Vatar wrapped his arms around her. “Are you all right?”

She snuggled a little closer. “Just tired. We were walking
all day, you know. And talking half the night.”

Vatar looked up at Quetza. “I think we should wait until
tomorrow to talk about the rest of it.”

“You mean there’s more?” Teran asked.

Thekila glanced up at Vatar. “One or two other things. But
we’ll talk about it tomorrow, all right?”

Quetza nodded, stifling a yawn of her own. “Tomorrow is time
enough.”

Terania stood up, pulling Teran to his feet with her. “Of
course. Naturally you’re tired. And we’ll get much further when everyone’s
rested. Sleep late if you need to.”

Teran looked like he had tasted something sour. “Well. While
you rest, allow me to take your invitation to the Council for you so they can
consider it.” He looked at Vatar for a long moment. “You know, I think I may
volunteer to be their emissary. The chance to study a whole new kind of magic.
And the odd interaction between the two—if that’s what this is. It’s not
something to be passed up.”

Vatar handed over the letter from the Fasallon High Council.

Thekila grinned. “That would be perfect.”

Vatar bit his tongue to keep from saying what he thought
about it. Teran was the last man he wanted in Caere. Still, it seemed to make
Thekila happy. At the least it meant one less trip across the Lake and back.
And maybe Teran would have a better chance at a favorable hearing than Vatar
would.

Jadar woke them the next morning, though Vatar wouldn’t call
it early. The baby had been getting better about sleeping through the night.
Unfortunately, a trip to the kitchen for some milk-soaked bread or applesauce
wasn’t an option, here. Vatar got up to take Jadar out of the oversized chair
they’d converted to a bed for him last night and brought him back to Thekila.

She sat up and kissed Vatar as she took the baby to nurse.

Vatar brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Are you all
right? You seemed tired last night.”

Thekila giggled. “I’m fine. I wasn’t really
that
tired, though I did want to get some sleep before Jadar woke us. But I also
know Teran. And you. Once he gets really interested in a problem, he’s fully
capable of skipping meals—and sleep—for more than a day. And, my love, you do
tend to get . . . not cranky, but . . . less cooperative when you’re tired.
More stubborn. Teran’d already made you do your shape change three times, like
he was going to see something different if you just tried it again. And I know
how much energy that can take. He made me change four times before he’d believe
his own eyes. I thought it was a good time to break off, while everyone was still
on friendly terms. We have several days before we have to leave. We don’t have
to cover everything all at once.”

Vatar turned his head away to hide his frown. “We’ll have
longer than that if Teran actually means to come back with us.”

“Mm-hm. On the other hand, he might just disappear into the
Fasallon archives for a month. Or more. Teran is very, very good at research.
Maybe he’ll turn up something that will convince the Valson Council to give us
more help than I think they’re likely to at first. You want that, don’t you?”

Vatar sighed. “Yes. I wasn’t intending to have him stay with
us in Caere to get it, though.”

“Who says he’s going to stay with us?” Thekila asked.

Vatar huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Where else? How
many times have you told me you think of Teran as an older brother? You don’t
really believe I think you’d let him go live by himself somewhere in Caere do
you?”

Thekila cocked her head to one side. “I guess I hadn’t
thought that far ahead.” She smiled up at Vatar. “Aren’t you glad Arcas got us
that guest house?”

One side of Vatar’s mouth twitched up at that. “That’ll help
some. I can’t pretend I’ll be happy to see him at every meal.” His stomach
punctuated that statement be growling loudly.

Thekila laughed. “I think we’d better get you to the dining
hall.” Her stomach rumbled, causing her to giggle. “Me, too.”

They strolled across the green lawns of the Academy toward
the dining hall. Vatar paused partway, staring off toward a copse of fruit
trees where a snowy-white antelope browsed on the fallen fruit. By the color,
he was fairly sure it was a student’s Transformation. But he couldn’t recall
ever seeing a student wandering around the campus—and eating—in their avatar
form. “That’s unusual.”

Thekila followed his glance. For a moment her brow furrowed.
“She shouldn’t be doing that.” Then her eyes flew wide and she stopped a
passing teacher and pointed toward the antelope. “Is that . . . Zoria?”

The teacher nodded. “Yes. She was brought here when her
parents chose exile along with Nertan and Wartan. Her brother is a student
here. I think they all hoped we’d be able to help her, but no one’s been able
to think of anything that’s worked, yet.”

Thekila grabbed Vatar’s arm. “You can help her.”

Vatar narrowed his eyes as he looked at Zoria. It wasn’t
that he didn’t want to help. By the Council’s proclamation, if he removed her
Transformation, Zoria would just be exiled. Another potential enemy out in the
world. But maybe there was a way to prevent that. “Not right now.”

“Vatar, I know you have no reason to like Zoria, but you
can’t leave her like that when you have the power to rescue her. She might stay
that way for the rest of her life if you don’t.”

Vatar pulled her close. “It isn’t that, Thekila. How much
good would it do to free her from that shape just so she could be exiled?
Presumably we’re going to be talking to your Council in a few days. I’d like to
see if they’ll revoke her sentence, first. Wouldn’t it be better for her to be
able to stay with her brother? She’s been this way for three years. A few more
days can’t make that much difference.” He shrugged. “Either way, I’ll try
before we leave.”

Thekila hugged him. “You’re right. That would be much
better.” She leaned back to look up at him. “And it might serve more than one
purpose.” She smiled mischievously. “I’m sure Teran would be interested to see
it.”

Vatar groaned. “At least he can’t ask me to do that three
times in a row.”

Thekila laughed. “I’ll try to keep his enthusiasm in check.”
She glanced back toward Zoria. “It might impress the Council, too. Couldn’t
hurt.”

~

Vatar was not surprised when Teran found them in the dining
hall.

“The Council will hear you tomorrow.” Teran shrugged.
“Though I don’t think you should hold out much hope.” He leaned forward. “Last
night you indicated there were other interactions of these two kinds of magic.
What are they?”

Vatar glanced at Thekila, one eyebrow raised.

She stifled a giggle. “Actually, Teran, I think we pretty
much covered everything related to the two kinds of magic. What I meant to say
is that Vatar appears to have certain other Powers. From what his father has
said they’re known Fasallon Talents, although ones I’ve never heard of before.
And some of them are quite rare, even among the Fasallon.”

Vatar shook his head. “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to
demonstrate any of them for you.” He glanced at Thekila to remind her that
they’d agreed not to bring up the shield at this time. “At least not today.
Fore Sight—the ability to tell something about the future—just sort of happens.
It’s not something I can control.”

Terania came over and joined them. “
Fore
Sight? I don’t think there’s any such thing as seeing into the future.”

“Neither do
I
,” Teran said.

“The Fasallon recognized it as a Talent,” Thekila said. “They’ve
even entered some of Vatar’s predictions into their Book of Prophecies.”

Vatar looked into the distance. “Most often, it’s just a
sort of itch between my shoulder blades, warning of danger.
That’s
never
been wrong.” His voice sank to just above a whisper. “Though it hasn’t always
helped much.”

Thekila looked across at Teran. “I suppose that just leaves
one thing, but you’ll have to wait until after we appear before the Council for
that.”

“What is it?” Teran asked.

Thekila grinned. “A surprise.”

~

The following morning, they set out to cross the Lake to the
City for the Council meeting, leaving Theklan to watch Jadar for a few hours.
Vatar grimly forced himself to board the flat-decked boat. He hated being
adrift on the water, even the quiet waters of the Lake. Thekila kept her arm
around his waist and that helped.

When they debarked, Vatar was once again struck by the neat
orderliness of the City, so different from Caere’s jumble and bustle.

The Council was already seated when they arrived. So few other
Valson had come to the Council meeting, it was almost a private session. The
Council recognized Vatar almost immediately.

Vatar reiterated the Fasallon Council’s invitation to
exchange emissaries in hopes of a future alliance. It didn’t require magic to
realize that the Valson didn’t find the invitation very interesting. Why should
they? Completely self-sufficient in their valley, the Valson didn’t need
anything the Fasallon had to offer. Then he deferred to Quetza to present the
plea for help against the Exiles.

After a very brief conference among the Councilors, the
leader of the Council stood. “This is too far beyond the Valley to concern us.
We find nothing of value to us in opening relations with the outside world.
However, Teran has told us his intention to travel to this,” the leader paused
and looked at the invitation, sounding out the strange name, “Caere for the
satisfaction of his own curiosity about new forms of magic. Therefore, we are
willing to designate him and his twin, Terania, as our emissaries.”

Teran and Terania stepped forward and nodded their
acceptance.

The leader nodded back. “That concludes the business before
the Council.”

Vatar stepped forward again. “With your indulgence, I would
like to raise one more thing.”

The leader blinked. “Yes?”

“I couldn’t help but notice that Zoria remains locked in her
avatar. I think I may be able to help her.”

“You’re welcome to try, of course. You don’t need our
permission for that.” The leader half-turned away.

Vatar raised his voice slightly. “Before I do, I want her
sentence of exile revoked. Whatever she did against me, I consider that she’s
been punished enough.”

The Council members conferred briefly before the leader
turned back to Vatar. “Since you are the one she injured, we are willing to
grant your request.”

“One more thing,” Vatar said. “If I succeed, I would also
request that this Council reconsider its judgment that there is nothing worth
taking an interest in beyond the borders of this Valley. At the least, there
may be things you could learn from us.”

The leader’s eyes narrowed. “We will consider it.”

Vatar knew he’d pushed the point as far as he dared—for now.
Any more, and the Council would refuse just because he annoyed them. He gave
the Council a bow. “Thank you. I’ll see what I can do for Zoria tomorrow
morning.”

~

Theklan looked up from polishing his spear blade as they
returned. “I got some milk sops from the dining hall about an hour ago. Jadar
is taking a nap, now.”

Vatar grinned. “Thank you for taking care of him. You can go
find your friends, now, if you like. We won’t be going far again today.”

Theklan set his spear down. “Did you ask them if they knew
of a way to restore magic?”

Vatar’s brow furrowed. “No. Why would I?”

“Well, Kiara asked me to find out for her.”

Vatar sighed. He’d hoped his sister had given up on that.
She hadn’t mentioned it to him again.

“Well,” Thekila said, “you’ll have plenty of time to ask as
many of the teachers here as you like. You might even try the library.”

“I guess.” Theklan looked up at Vatar. “Does Taleus know
anything?”

Vatar shook his head. “Kiara already asked me to consult
with Taleus. According to him, it requires someone with the same kind of Talent
that Calpe used to lock up our ancestors’ Talents in the first place. And he
doesn’t know of anyone alive with that Talent.” He had an urge to speak that
felt like prophecy. “I don’t think you’re going to find an answer here,
Theklan.” The urge passed. Vatar shook his head. “It’s just as well. Life would
be a lot harder for Kiara among the Dardani if she started doing magic. Just
think how the shaman reacted to your little demonstration.”

Theklan looked down, flushing slightly. “It’d be nice to be
able to talk to her, even if it was only by Far Speech.”

“Who’s Taleus?” Teran asked.

Vatar sighed. He really hadn’t wanted to bring this up. Not
with Teran. “It’s a long story.” When Teran continued to look at him
expectantly, Vatar drew a deep breath and continued. “Taleus was an ancestor of
mine who lived about 600 years ago. He was killed by a sea dragon, but his
brother—they shared a twin bond—his brother somehow bound Taleus to stay, first
bound to the sea dragon itself and then to the islet that was all that was left
after Tabeus killed the sea dragon. He was beginning to . . . fade, when I was
sent to that islet as part of my first manhood test. Then . . . he somehow got
bound to me, instead. Sometimes, he’ll answer a question about the past, or
about his understanding of magic.”

Teran took a moment to absorb this. “So . . . who’s Calpe?”

Vatar knew he’d be answering questions about his ancestors
for the foreseeable future. He’d already had plenty of evidence of Teran’s
tenacity. “Calpe was Taleus’s wife. She was pregnant when he died—with twins.
But she didn’t agree with . . .” Vatar paused. Better not get into too much
Caerean history, just yet. “With what the Fasallon planned to do, so she used a
rare Talent only she possessed to somehow suppress her children’s Talents. She
hid the twins among the Caereans. I . . . well, according to Taleus, having
similar Talents from my father opened a sort of crack in the barrier Calpe had
created. And because Taleus was bound to me, he was able to free the rest, the
ones that came from him or from Calpe. That’s where some of my Talents come
from—like what I’ll use tomorrow with Zoria. That, as I understand it, was one
of Calpe’s rare gifts.”

~

By the next morning a small crowd had gathered on the lawn
where Zoria browsed. Word of Vatar’s intention must have spread. Zoria’s
brother was there along with several curious teachers. A few Council members
had come, too, including the leader.

As they’d planned, Thekila approached first. When she had a
grip on the antelope, Vatar stepped forward slowly.

“Can you picture her?” Thekila asked.

Vatar shook his head. “Not clearly enough. It’s been too
long.”
It’s not going to work,
he told Thekila through their bond.

I was one of her teachers. I knew her longer. Maybe I can
give you my image of her.

I have a better idea,
Vatar sent through their bond.
If I can borrow your Power to move things with magic, maybe you can borrow this
Talent from me.

The Council are expecting you to do this,
she
objected

Vatar smiled.
And how are they going to know the
difference unless we tell them? Besides, it’ll still be my Talent. It’s just
possible for you to use it because of our bond.