The Shaman's Curse (Dual Magics Book 1) (15 page)

Vatar and the others rode into sight of Zeda at sunrise,
singing. The whole tribe seemed to be out to greet them and it didn’t look as
if anyone had slept that night. All the Dardani stood, watching as the young
men rode up and, Vatar was sure, counted heads.

When the assembled Dardani saw the heads and pelts of the
dead tigers being pulled on travois, a huge cheer erupted from the front of the
crowd and spread to the back. Startled birds rose from the waterhole like
fireworks.

The crowd surged forward to envelop the young men. Vatar saw
Pa, Mother, and Kiara struggling against the mob to get to him. He pushed
through to them and jumped down from his horse.

Pa thumped him on the back. “You did it!”

Mother drew him into a fierce hug. “Let’s get somewhere
quieter where you can tell us all about it.”

Kiara bounced up on her toes. “I want to hear everything.”

Mother drew back to look into Vatar’s face. “Yes, and you
need to get some rest before your fall down. You’ll never make it through the
rest of the festivities otherwise. Our hut will be quiet enough.”

Rest hadn’t been the first thing on Vatar’s mind, but he
could hardly walk away and refuse to tell them what had happened. He’d go
looking for Avaza later. She was probably listening eagerly to Ravaz’s version
of the story right now anyway. Vatar ducked through the door into the darkened
hut after Kiara.

Kiara turned back to him immediately. “What happened? I bet
you were the hero of the whole hunt.”

Vatar shook his head. “Everyone there was a hero, one way or
another.” Vatar sat down on his bedroll and leaned back against the sod wall.
Then, between jaw-cracking yawns, he described the whole hunt. Somehow, he
seemed to slide lower onto his bedroll as he talked, but he was too tired to
pull himself back upright.

~

Vatar woke to Pa’s insistent shaking.

“I know you’re tired, son. But it’s rising noon and the
celebration is about to start. You don’t want to miss the jarai tournament, do
you? You’ve certainly earned your place in it.”

The jarai tournament was normally the highlight of the
Midsummer Festival, but Vatar felt no great need to show off his abilities.
They’d just killed a pair of forest tigers. After that, jarai could only be an
anticlimax. Still, not all of the young men playing today would have been part
of the hunt. He wouldn’t let his clan’s team down.

Vatar tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes, afraid he’d be
too groggy for the tournament. He needn’t have worried. Between lack of sleep,
adrenalin reaction, and pure relief and joy at still being alive most of the
young men were as giddy as if they were drunk.

The jarai field was set up on one side of the village, where
a very large triangle had been marked out with a large basket in each point. As
the winners of last year’s tournament, the Eagle Clan would be in the first
round—and every round thereafter until they were eliminated. By the luck of the
draw, Lion and Horse Clans would be their first opponents.

The five riders from each team included all the young men
from that clan who had just participated in the tiger hunt and as many others
from among the younger men as needed to fill out the team. Vatar didn’t know
all the riders well. Of those he did know, Daron was clearly a much greater
threat than Ariad. He tried to assess the others quickly as they sat their
horses. The eldest Eagle Clan chief tossed the hard, wrapped leather ball into
the air and the game was on.

An Eagle Clan rider snatched the ball out of the air and
wheeled to race for his team’s basket. Vatar and Daron both spurred forward to
block the ball carrier from reaching his goal. The young man tried to pass the
ball to one of his team mates, but Daron pivoted his horse and intercepted the
ball. With a whoop, he was off toward the Horse Clan’s goal. The quick change
of momentum left most of the other players behind.

Vatar was nearest. He slammed his horse’s shoulder into the
mount of another Horse Clan player, throwing him off balance, and raced ahead
to catch Daron. Only Ariad blocked Daron from his goal. Vatar didn’t like that
match up at all. Steering with just his legs and his weight as he juggled the
ball, Daron swerved sharply to the left, slipping past Ariad, and slammed the
ball into his goal for the first point of the game.

Daron tossed the ball up to put it in play again. An Eagle
Clan rider caught it and dashed across the field to their goal. Two Horse Clan riders
rode in from each side to block him. Ariad and most of his team mates were
caught to one side of the field, chasing after the blocker on the right. Vatar
decided to trust the Horses to block the basket and positioned himself between
the ball carrier and his team mates.

Finding himself isolated with no way to get to the goal, the
ball carrier threw to the nearest Eagle, which happened to be Ariad. Vatar
spurred his horse forward to push Ariad’s aside and caught the ball. He whirled
his horse around, bent low over her neck and sped to his goal with only Ariad
to beat. He tossed the ball into the basket that represented his team’s goal.
One point each for the Horse Clan and the Lion Clan. It’d take two more for
either one of them to win the game.

Daron nabbed the ball as Vatar put it back into play and
raced for his goal. Daron’s teammates had effectively bottled up the Eagle
Clan, all but Ariad, in one corner of the field where they couldn’t interfere.
Vatar attempted to herd Daron straight toward Ariad, who was rushing toward
them from the front.

The hairs on the back of Vatar’s neck stood on end and the
spot between his shoulder blades twitched. For an instant, he was sure all
three horses would collide and fall in a tangle. Things like that did sometimes
happen in jarai. Reflexively, Vatar jerked his reins, creating a little more
distance between his horse and Daron’s. The prickly feeling eased immediately.
Daron spurred past him, slipping by Ariad and threw the ball into his goal. Now
the score was 2-1-0

Daron tossed the ball to Ariad to put it back into play.
Anything to keep the Lion Clan from gaining possession again. That was the
nature of the constantly shifting alliances of jarai. Your ally one minute
could become your opponent in the next.

Having given the ball to the Eagles, the Horse Clan now
joined Vatar and the Lion Clan in trying to stop them from scoring. Daron
rammed his horse into Ariad’s. In his mad grab for the reins, Ariad lost the
ball. Daron leaned far out of his saddle to grab it up from the field in a move
Vatar wouldn’t have dared attempt.

Daron turned again for the Horse Clan goal. One more point
would win the game for them. Vatar spun his horse to follow, along with the
rest of his team and the Eagle Clan. The Horse Clan rode in front of them,
swerving back and forth in an attempt to keep the other riders away from Daron.
One of them blocked Vatar’s horse hard enough to push it into one of the
Eagle’s. Then Daron was through and dunked the ball into his goal basket. The
score was 3-1-0. To no one’s surprise, the Horse Clan had won the first game.
Vatar found it hard to resent the win. There was plenty of honor to go around
this year and they all knew it. Besides, now the Lion Clan and their horses had
a chance to rest through the next game, in which the Horse Clan would defend
against the Ravens and the Bears. They’d scored, so as long as the next two
teams did no better, they’d get another chance in the third game when the—by
then hopefully exhausted—Horse Clan would have to play against the Wolf Clan
and the highest scorer of the other teams. At a guess, Vatar would bet that the
Horse Clan would still win. Daron was just too good.

Vatar felt as if someone was watching him. It was a little
like the ticklish feeling between his shoulder blades, but . . . not quite the
same. Before the next game got under way, he glanced across the field, to where
the Raven Clan had gathered to watch the tournament. Right there, at the front
of the Raven Clan, sat Maktaz. The shaman stared and the hate in his eyes, even
at this distance, made Vatar shudder. In some ways, Maktaz seemed more
dangerous than the tigers in that instant.

Continuing to stare back wasn’t going to help. Vatar forced
himself to break eye contact and his eyes locked with someone else who was
staring at him in an entirely different way. Avaza. He’d meant to find her as
soon as he returned from the hunt and collect that kiss. But first there was
his family, then he couldn’t keep his eyes open in the quiet, darkened hut, and
then there was the tournament. He smiled across at her, and Avaza lifted her
chin and turned her head away. Maybe he should have gone to find her after all.
Was there time, while the second game played out? The Horse Clan were good,
especially with Daron in the game, but their horses couldn’t be as fresh as the
other two teams. Usually the games took longer as the tournament continued, for
that reason if nothing else.

Vatar stood up and started to walk around the field. He
wasn’t sure what he’d do when he got there. Avaza was surrounded, probably by
her family, certainly by Clan sisters and brothers. How was he even going to
get a chance to talk to her? He’d think of something.

He blew out his breath in relief as he came around the point
of the field. Looked like he wouldn’t have to think of something after all.
There was Avaza walking alone at the back of the crowd. He ran to catch up.
“Avaza!”

She turned slowly and watched him with narrowed eyes as he
approached. “Yes?”

Vatar stopped and blinked. “I . . . uh, I thought . . .” He
drew a deep breath. “I thought this might be a good time for that kiss you
promised me.”

She crossed her arms across her chest. “I thought you’d
decided you’d rather kiss some other girl. After all, it’s been hours since you
came back.”

Oh.
“Uh . . . It’s not that. I . . .” Vatar
stammered.

Avaza continued to stand there with her arms crossed. “What?
Something was clearly more important than that kiss you suddenly seem so intent
on. I actually thought, for a little while yesterday, that you meant what you
said.”

“I did.” Sky above and earth below, a simple kiss wasn’t
supposed to be this complicated. Was it?

“Well. So what held you up?”

Vatar took a step back. “Well, my family wanted to know all
about the hunt. I couldn’t very well walk out without telling them anything. I
. . . I thought you’d be listening to Ravaz, the same way. I didn’t want to
interrupt your family’s reunion . . .”

Avaza uncrossed her arms. “That didn’t take you this long.”

Vatar swallowed hard. He looked down at his boots. “Well,
then I kind of . . . fell asleep. I hadn’t slept much the night before. And
none of us slept last night, obviously. And . . . well, and then it was the
tournament. And I didn’t have a chance to . . .”

Avaza stepped still closer and pulled his face down to hers.
The kiss was longer than their first and it left Vatar slightly dizzy. He
raised his arms to hold onto her. He continued to stare into her eyes even when
she pulled her lips from his.

Her smile at him was alluring. “There. Now you’ve collected
your kiss. Is that all you want?”

Vatar swallowed hard. “No.”

Avaza’s laugh was like the tinkling of little bells. “Good.
Because it’s not all I want, either.”

Vatar started to lean forward to kiss her again. Behind them
a shout went up from the playing field. Vatar jerked at the sound. He gripped
her shoulders tighter even as he turned his head back toward the jarai field,
torn between Avaza and the game.

Avaza laughed again. “Go on. You need to go finish the
tournament. We can . . . talk later.”

~

As Vatar predicted, The tournament ended with a Horse Clan
victory. As soon as Vatar had congratulated Daron, he started thinking about
finding Avaza again. Now, before the feast started, would be a good time,
before everyone had a chance to sort themselves out into clans and family
groups. It’d be harder to get her alone, then.

He didn’t see her anywhere. Hadn’t she stayed to watch him
play? While he stood looking around the crowd, his teammates swept him up in
the traditional march back to the village square, following the triumphant
Horse Clan players. The crowd of Dardani surrounded them, cheering them on.
Vatar stopped trying to fight against the tide. He was more likely to find
Avaza in the village, now. Maybe he’d just have to wait until after the feast,
when things thinned out a little.

As the jarai players began to drift to their own clans, the
eldest chief called for Vatar, Daron, Alion, and Ariad to come to the center of
the square.

When the four boys had arrived at the center, the chief
announced, “By agreement of the Chiefs, the tigers’ fangs are awarded to the
four young men most responsible for killing the beasts.” He tied a leather
thong from which was hung a long, curved fang around the neck of each young
man. The assembled Dardani cheered. Vatar fingered his and smiled.

The chief continued, “The skins, when they have been cured,
are awarded to Vatar, for the tiger he killed, and to Ariad because he struck
the other tiger twice.”

The square erupted in another wild cheer.

~

The feast was winding down and Vatar was thinking of going
looking for Avaza again. Except, he was so tired he thought he might fall down
half-way there, which wouldn’t make a very good impression. Should he wait
until tomorrow? Or would she be angry with him again?

He barely blinked when Pa handed him a cup. Vatar took a
gulp and almost choked. He hadn’t drunk fermented apple juice since the night
of his initiation. This was possibly even a little stronger. Wrinkling his
nose, he tried to push the cup back into Pa’s hand.

Pa refused to take it. “Drink it, Vatar. You’ll need it.”