The Voice of Prophecy (Dual Magics Book 2) (10 page)

Theklan followed Gafar as he wandered down to the beach. It
was chilly and damp, not really comfortable weather. But according to Gafar,
interesting things often washed up on the rocky shore in weather like this—at
least, things interesting to eleven-year-old boys.

Theklan couldn’t keep his attention on looking for the
things Gafar seemed to be hunting. He stopped frequently to just stare at the
ocean and the waves running up the shore towards them. The Lake back home was
nothing like this. What would it be like to swim in the ocean, with those waves
keeping the water in constant motion? What kinds of creatures lived in that
murky water? Probably not any of the ones he knew from the Valley. It was all
new, even the smell. That salty tang was much stronger here than in the
marketplace, but Theklan almost thought he liked it.

Well, except for some of the seaweed. Some of that stank.
Ahead of him, Gafar kept turning over that seaweed, and stirring up the smell
of it, as he looked underneath for more interesting objects.

Theklan wrinkled his nose and looked up. A large wooden
wharf, much bigger than the one at home, jutted out into the bay. A handful of
boys a few years older than Theklan and Gafar leaned against the railing
looking back at Gafar and himself. No boats were currently tied up, though.
“Where are the boats?”

Gafar looked up where Theklan pointed. Then stood up,
rubbing his sand-covered hands on his pants legs. “Uh, oh.”

Theklan turned back to him. “What?”

Gafar shook his head without taking his eyes off the boys on
the wharf. “We shouldn’t have come this far. The fishermen’s boys don’t like
city boys coming down here. Come on, let’s go back.”

“Hey! You! What are you doing here, city boys? This is our
beach!” one of the boys on the wharf yelled.

“Run!” Gafar said, taking off back up the beach.

Theklan followed more slowly.

“That’s right, soft city boys. Run away from us!” The older
boys taunted. One of the boys threw a rock that struck Gafar in the back of the
leg, tripping him. Theklan stopped and helped Gafar to his feet. Another rock
whizzed past Theklan’s head, narrowly missing him.

Theklan turned back towards the older boys. “Stop that,” he
yelled. “You’ll hurt someone.”

“Yeah! You!” one boy shouted back.

“How you gonna stop us?” another jeered and threw another
rock.

Theklan
caught
it with his Power, letting it hang in
the air several feet away. The students drilled in something like this at the
Academy—although the objects were usually lighter and less dangerous. Still, it
was familiar enough for Theklan to easily stop the rock and hold it suspended.
He caught the next rock, too. Now, there were two rocks floating in the air
between the two groups of boys. The boys on the wharf started to mutter among
themselves, stepping back across the wharf without taking their eyes from
Theklan and Gafar. Gafar stared at Theklan, too.

“All of you stand right where you are!” an adult voice cut
in.

Five Temple Guards came down the beach. Theklan let the
rocks drop, suddenly remembering his sister’s admonition against using his
Powers here.

“You two, what are you doing here?” the corporal asked,
glaring down at Theklan and Gafar.

Gafar took his eyes off Theklan for the first time and
answered. “We went farther than I thought, sir. We were just walking on the beach,
looking for stuff that washed up.” He pointed back toward the wharf. “They
started throwing rocks at us.”

“You shouldn’t be down here. Who’s responsible for you?”

“My brother is Fowin the Smith,” Gafar answered, his
attitude showed that he knew he would be in trouble for this.

“And you?” the corporal asked Theklan. There was a sort of
glint in the corporal’s eye as he addressed Theklan, speculative, almost
greedy.

It made Theklan uncomfortable. The question was confusing.
“I . . . I’m Theklan. I . . . .”

“He’s not from Caere,” Gafar said. “He’s staying with Vatar
the Smith.”

“Very well. You two get on home.”

Gafar pulled on Theklan’s arm and the two turned to scramble
up the beach and away. Theklan heard the corporal speaking to the other boys as
they ran.

“As for you, you’re known trouble-makers. I don’t know what
makes you think you can get away with something like this. You’ll come with us
to the Guard Hall until your families come for you.”

When they got back to the safer part of the city, Gafar slowed
down. He had been striding well ahead of Theklan. Now he allowed the slightly
younger boy to catch up—almost. “You should have told me you’re Fasallon.”

“I’m not Fasallon. I’m Valson.”

Gafar shook his head. “Only the Fasallon can do things like
that. Magic.”

Theklan bit his lip. “I don’t know about that. Vatar’s
Fasallon, I guess. And he has Powers similar to ours. But he had a really hard
time learning, at first.”

Gafar squared his shoulders. “The Fasallon can do magic
because they are descended from the Sea Gods. Are . . . are you descended from
some other gods?”

Theklan shrugged. “Not that I ever heard. But pretty much
everybody where I come from can do what I did.”

Gafar remained silent for long enough to make Theklan
uncomfortable.

“That’s like part of a game we play, back at the Academy,”
Theklan said at last, trying to bridge the silence.

Gafar turned to look straight at him for the first time
since they left the beach. “
That’s
part of a game?”

“Yeah. I mean, we don’t usually use rocks. But catching and
tossing things with our Powers is—”

Gafar turned away and strode forward again. When they
reached the Temple Gate, Gafar pointed to the road that led up the hill. “Just
stay on that road. It’ll take you back to Vatar’s farm.”

Then he turned and left Theklan standing there, wondering
what he had done wrong.

When the dogs started barking, Vatar pulled the steel blank
he’d just placed in the fire to heat back out again. “Sky above and earth
below! I may have to go down to the guildhall to work just to get away from all
these interruptions.”

Orleus stood up from the bench under the apple tree and
looked toward the gate. “I’m afraid I’m responsible for this one. I had to let
Father know I was in Caere.”

Vatar looked over at the figure in the blue and green cloak
and smiled. “Of course you did.”

They went together to open the gate.

Father stepped through. “Orleus! I scarcely believed it when
I got your message. I can’t remember the last time you were in Caere two years
in a row. And last year you were only here for two days. It’s good to see you
again. “

Orleus grinned. “It’s good to see you, too, Father.”

Father took each of them by an arm. “I need to talk to both
of you. Perhaps we should go inside.”

Vatar’s breath caught for a moment.
Both
of them?
There was no reason for Vatar to be involved in Orleus’s recruiting. Maybe that
meant that Father had finally found something in the archives to explain what
had been going on with Vatar’s magic. He hesitated, looking up at the door to
the main house. Arcas and Elaria still didn’t know anything about his magic.
He’d just as soon keep it that way. “Let’s use the guest house. That way we can
talk in private without putting Arcas and Elaria out. Let me just go bank the
fire in my forge. I’ll be right in.”

Father nodded. “Bring Thekila and Quetza, please.”

Vatar nodded. Almost certainly about his magic then. “Quetza
is probably there already. She’s been using the guest house for Theklan’s
lessons for the same reason.” He paused. “Though I think Theklan is out
exploring the city with Gafar today. I’ll bring Thekila.”

Vatar banked the fires quickly and went to get Thekila, who
was helping Elaria in the kitchen.

When they arrived at the guest house, Father and Orleus were
already seated at one end of the table. Quetza sat next to Orleus.

Orleus leaned slightly forward. “No doubt you heard about
the volcano, Father.”

Father nodded. “The High Council had a report.”

Quetza frowned. “Volcano?”

Orleus turned toward her. “Some of the peaks in the Kragehul
Mountains are volcanoes. According to our records, they spew hot rock and ash
from time to time. There hadn’t been an eruption in quite a while. Couple of
generations from what I was able to gather. But one erupted just before I got
home. Tysoe’s far enough away from the mountains, we feel the earthquakes and
maybe see the red glow of the mountain at night, but we don’t get the molten
rocks or ash—except what floats down the rivers. I missed the worst of the
earthquakes, but not the damage they did.”

“That must have been the earthquake we felt, too. The one
that started the stampede,” Vatar put in. “That was only a day after you left
us.”

Orleus nodded. “That’d be about right.” He turned back to
Father. “The bridge across the Maat River was lost in the first earthquake.
That’ll take months to rebuild. The earthquake also caused a landslide on the
north side of Lake Narycea, which in turn caused a nasty wave that did some
damage to the shipping in the lake and flooded the lower parts of the town.”

“That’s basically the information the High Council
received,” Veleus said. “Did they send you here to ask for assistance?”

Orleus shrugged. “In a way. The Tysoeans are already
undertaking the repairs. We have the labor and the resources. But the eruption
has also brought an unexpected opportunity.”

“Oh?” Father asked.

Orleus leaned forward again. “Our neighbors, the Themyri are
a superstitious lot. They apparently didn’t like the volcano at all. And now
they’ve all gone into hiding somewhere. While they’re gone—wherever they’ve
gone—the Tysoean Council has decided to place outposts into the nearer parts of
the Land between the Rivers. That’s rich farmland and the Council has wanted to
claim it for years.”

Father leaned back. “Isn’t that dangerous? I thought the
Themyri would raid and burn any settlement in their territory.”

Orleus shrugged. “There’s been no sign of the Themyri. They
seem to have vanished. If we can build fortified settlements while they’re
gone, well, that’ll give us an advantage when they come back. If they come
back.”

Vatar’s eyes narrowed. The Themyri were traditional enemies
of the Dardani. If they’d crossed the river into Dardani territory, Pa would
want to know about it as soon as may be. “Where do you think they went?”

“To the deep and the dragons for all I care, so long as
they’re not troubling us anymore. There are signs that they went south,
into
the mountains, which makes no sense.” Orleus shook his head. “Anyway, I’m not
optimistic enough to think we’ve really seen the last of them. Half my men are
reassigned to the Land Between the Rivers now. To protect the town and the new
outposts properly, I need more men. So, I’m here to recruit. Caere always has
more young men suitable for the Guard than you need. Some of them won’t mind
exchanging a few hardships for more freedom.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Veleus said. “You’ll
probably need to come address the Council.”

Orleus grimaced. “I was afraid of that.”

After a little more discussion about the situation in Tysoe,
Father turned to Vatar. “I’ve been searching the archives for any mention of a
shield such as you describe. I think I’ve finally found something.”

Vatar sat up. Finally
something
that might help him
understand what had happened. “What?”

Father smiled a little at Vatar’s eagerness. “It was from
our earliest records. It seems that Tabeus had a similar Talent, but it was
somehow connected with his twin-bond with Taleus. After Taleus was killed,
Tabeus was never able to do it again. There’s no further reference to anything
like it.”

Vatar’s brow furrowed. “Twin bond?”

Father nodded. “We rarely have twins among the Fasallon
anymore, but they were not uncommon in the early days here in Caere. It’s well
documented that some twins had an unusual bond that allowed them to share their
Talents in a way that none of the rest of us can.”

“We know of the twin bond,” Quetza said. “Our friends Teran
and Terania have something like that.”

“Who are Tabeus and Taleus?” Thekila asked.

Veleus looked to Vatar. “How much do they know about our
history?”

Vatar shrugged and grinned, putting his hand over Thekila’s.
“We hadn’t really gotten around to talking about ancient history, Father. I was
saving that for when we need something to talk about on a long, cold night. In,
oh, say ten or twenty years.”

Thekila blushed.

Veleus chuckled. “Briefly, then. Tabeus and Taleus are part
of our earliest history. Caere was a tiny fishing village, then. Maybe fifty
huts and half as many fishing boats clustered on the south side of the bay,
where it’s less rocky. But the climate was favorable. Our ancestors stopped
their wandering on the north side of the bay. Initially, the Caereans were at
best ambivalent about us. They didn’t use the north side of the bay, but they
weren’t entirely happy about having us occupy it, either.

“But at that time the Caereans had more to worry about than
our ancestors. A large sea dragon chose to make its home in the bay, basing
itself around the largest island, where the Palace is now. The beast ruined the
fishing—and several of the fishing boats, too. Some of the accounts say that
Celeus, the leader of the Fasallon, called the dragon to punish the Caereans
for rejecting us. Personally, I doubt that very much. I’ve never found any
reference to an ability to call dragons or any other animal. And we suffered
from the dragon’s predations almost as much as the Caereans. The beast would
climb out of the sea in the middle of the night and devour one or more of our
horses.

“Celeus had identical twin sons, Tabeus and Taleus. They
were both smiths and they were both avid hunters. Although Taleus was the
better smith and Tabeus was the better hunter. Tabeus persuaded Taleus that it
would be an adventure to hunt the dragon. But Celeus stopped them because he
saw an opportunity to make a bargain with the Caereans. His sons would kill the
dragon and, in return, the Caereans would cede the north side of the bay and
the island to us.

“Tabeus was an impatient man. Since his father had forbidden
him to kill the dragon until the deal had been struck, he rode out to hunt on
the plains. Taleus was newly married to Calpe, so he chose to stay behind. When
Celeus returned, only Taleus was here. Taleus set to work forging spears for
himself and his brother. He started to make two spear blades, but he only
finished one. He had just completed the first lance, with a long wooden shaft,
when the dragon attacked again. Taleus took his own horse and rode out to kill
the dragon. His steel-headed spear pierced the dragon’s side, which the Caereans’
bronze spears had failed to do, but the dragon’s thrashing broke the wooden
shaft before Taleus could drive the point into the dragon’s heart. The wounded
dragon killed Taleus."

“This isn’t the version of the story I heard,” Vatar said.

Veleus smiled slightly. “No. Caerean youths are not told the
whole story, for obvious reasons. Celeus and Tabeus are supposed to be two of
their Sea Gods. Gods aren’t killed by dragons.

“To continue, Tabeus returned the next day. He had felt his
twin’s death through their bond. In fury, he set to work immediately. He
finished the second spear point that Taleus had started and sang his rage as he
worked. It is said that he sang power into the blade.” Here, Veleus looked at
Vatar.

Vatar swallowed. He clearly remembered singing his own anger
into the spears he forged for the tiger hunt. It had never occurred to him that
he was singing magic into them, too.

Father went on. “Tabeus drew out a long iron rod to be the
shaft of the spear and welded the blade to the shaft so that the dragon
couldn’t break it.

“When he had completed the spear, Tabeus took his horse and
went out to hunt the dragon, drawing the monster into the shallow, rocky cove
near the Temple. We call it Dragon’s Cove now. Tabeus slew the dragon that had
killed his brother.

“The killing of the dragon convinced the Caereans that
Celeus and his companions were their Sea Gods. Celeus hadn’t foreseen that, but
he was quick to use it to the advantage of his people. The Fasallon have ruled
in Caere ever since, perpetuating that Lie.

“More to the point for our purposes, Tabeus was never able
to use his ability to shield again after Taleus’s death. It seems to have been
connected to the bond somehow. But you are not a twin, Vatar.”

Thekila fumbled with a mug someone had left on the table.
She shot a look at first Vatar and then Quetza. “There is another kind of bond.
If Vatar and I are starting to bind one another, then maybe the shield is
related to that.”

“What do you mean bind one another?” Father asked.

Thekila took Vatar’s hand under the table. “It is something
that can happen between Valson couples. Because we customarily join our minds
when we . . .” She blushed and hurried on. “Well, over time, the barriers
between you drop until there is no boundary left. It usually takes years,
decades in some cases. But, well, we seem to be moving faster than that.”

Veleus tapped his lips with a forefinger. “Interesting. We
have records of a very few instances of something like you describe. Taleus and
Calpe were one.”

Vatar sat back against the wall, glad to finally have an
explanation for something. He was descended from Tabeus, so the shield was just
normal Fasallon magic, nothing to be worried about. It had only seemed strange
because no one else in that line had been fortunate enough to have a bond with
someone like Thekila. Maybe the other strange things would have a similar
explanation. And maybe the voice had just been an effect of his fear for
Thekila after all. He breathed deeply for what felt like the first time in months
and smiled. “Thank you, Father. I feel better knowing that.”

Father sat back. “You’re welcome, but I’m not finished, yet.
I found a little information on something else at the same time. I need to find
out more about your ability to see through Transformations. The only record we
have of such a Talent is very old, as old as the story I just told you. Do you
remember how you knew that the Transformations of those hooligans who attacked
you were wrong?”

Vatar sat forward again. “No. They just felt wrong.”

“Has this ever happened at any other time?” Veleus pursued.

Vatar paused to consider. “Yes. When Boreala came out to the
plains to save Mother. Her Transformation as Boreleus just felt wrong to me. I
was relieved when she showed herself as Boreala.”

“Is that the only time you’ve ever been near someone who had
transformed themselves?”

“No,” Vatar answered. “There were the lessons in the
Valley.”

“You didn’t have the same feeling then?”

Vatar shrugged. “I don’t remember having that feeling, but I
already knew they were Transformations. I watched them do it.” His mouth
twitched up. “And the first student Transformations weren’t very good, anyway.”

Father was silent a moment. “I want to try something.” He
glanced around the table, looking between Thekila and Quetza. “Can either of
you do fourth-level Transformations?”

Both women nodded.

“Then, will one of you oblige me by transforming for a
moment?”

Quetza gestured to Thekila. “Better be you.”

Thekila smiled acknowledgment. Quetza’s wyvern avatar was
likely to raise still more questions. She stood up to make the change easier
and flowed into the shape of a giant white eagle, the change starting at her
feet and moving up her body, as if she had stepped into the new form and pulled
it on like a garment. The eagle was perfect, except for its pristine plumage
and its size. A real eagle that size would make grown men look for cover.