The Voice of Prophecy (Dual Magics Book 2) (25 page)

Cestus let the conversation drift around stories of their
children and married life for a while before bringing the topic back around to
his real purpose. He sighed. “I worry about them, especially little Arus. It’s
too soon to tell, of course, but if he doesn’t have any more Talent than I do .
. .” He let the implication hang there.

Kareus nodded. “I know what you mean.” He looked around the
claustrophobic little office. “I’d hate for my son to have to do this, or
something like it, all his life.”

Cestus surreptitiously drew a deep breath. Now for it. “It
doesn’t have to be this way. Other people have the freedom to choose and to do
whatever they’re capable of doing. Why shouldn’t we?”

Kareus shot Cestus a surprised look. “Because we’re
Fasallon. That’s the way it’s always been.”

Cestus shook his head. “Speaking strictly historically,
that’s not true. It wasn’t that way when the Fasallon first arrived in Caere,
before Abella made her prophecy. And it doesn’t have to be that way now. Look
at my half-brother, Vatar. He’s Fasallon. Half, at least. As much as me.
 But he’s been allowed to live outside the Temple and choose what he wants
to do. To travel where and when he likes. Why shouldn’t we have those same
freedoms? If the Council can make an exception like that for Vatar, why not for
us?”

Kareus shook his head. “The Council will never consider it.”

“Not on their own. But last winter, Vatar faced the Council
down. They were all prepared to arrest and imprison him and he made them back
down. Ask Dareus of the Palace Guard if you doubt me. He saw it.” Dareus was
also one of the first recruits to the cause. “Vatar was taken into the Chamber
with his hands bound and he left as an honored guest. The Council isn’t as
implacable or as strong as they would have us believe. They’ve released their
grip once, they can be convinced to do it again if we are strong enough, united
enough, determined enough.” Cestus sat up a little straighter. “How much do you
want a better life for your children, Kareus?”

Kareus drew in a deep breath. “Very badly. I’d do just about
anything to keep them from having to do this all their lives.”

Cestus nodded. “That’s exactly how I feel.”

Kareus glanced toward the door and lowered his voice. “Is
this all just talk, Cestus?”

Cestus smiled. “For now. But not forever.”

Vatar lay still as Thekila rolled over for the third time.
Likely, she’d never really be comfortable sleeping in a bedroll on the floor of
a sod hut. “Do you miss home? Your home, I mean. The Valley and the Academy?”

Thekila turned toward him. “Caere
is
my home now. I
do miss that a little. But this will become home, too.” Her lips quirked up
briefly. “It’s just going to take a little longer.” Her brows drew down. “I
don’t miss the Valley, precisely. But I do miss some of the people. Teran and
Terania, especially. I’d like to go back—for a visit. Not this year, though.
When we do go back, I want to find a way to persuade Theklan to stay and finish
his education properly. I worry that he’s falling behind.” She shifted slightly
to a more comfortable position. “But I want him with me when his nephew is
born, too. Maybe next year.”

Vatar pulled her in to lay against him, with her head
pillowed on his chest. “Well, we’ll start back for Caere soon now. You’ll be
more comfortable there.” He wouldn’t try to keep her away from her friends.
He’d learned that lesson early. But he was just as glad they wouldn’t have to
make the trip this year. Not just because of Thekila’s pregnancy. When they did
go back to the Valley, he’d have to give thought to how to guard her—and the
children—on the journey. Especially since it seemed likely Quetza wouldn’t be
going with them. He hadn’t forgotten the Valson who’d been exiled on his
account or the threat they posed. He wished there was some way to know where
they were now. And what they were doing.

~

Thekila accepted Savara from Vatar and set the little girl
before her in the saddle with a twinge of trepidation. Just this time last year
she’d been thrown from her horse because of a little thunder. She looked
skyward. At least the weather was fair today. She was still a little
uncomfortable with the trust Vatar was putting in her by giving her
responsibility for his daughter. She couldn’t help thinking that Savara would
be safer with Arcas.

Quetza stood a little apart talking quietly to Orleus, both
hands held in his. He drew her into a hug before turning away. Quetza walked
slowly back to stand next to Thekila, watching Orleus ride off to the ford
across the Maat River and the outposts beyond.

“You didn’t have to stay with us, you know,” Thekila said.
“You could have gone with him.”

“I will. Next spring. He’s going to come to Caere for
Vatar’s exorcism and I’ll go back with him then. To stay.” Quetza turned to
Thekila. “But I’m not going to miss the birth of your first child.”

“I’m fine. And I’ll have Boreala to take care of me. You
don’t have to feel like you’d be abandoning me.” Thekila glanced at Orleus’s
retreating figure. “You could still catch up to him.”

Quetza mounted her horse, but stayed next to Thekila. “It’s
not that long ‘til spring. And we won’t really be apart as long as we can use
Far Speech.”

Vatar swung up into his saddle and took Zavar from Pa’s
hands.

The little boy kicked his feet. “I wanna ride by myself.”

“Not until you’re big enough to reach the stirrups.” Vatar
chuckled.

Danar slapped Vatar’s leg in farewell. “Fair skies.”

“Fair skies, Pa,” Vatar answered and reined his horse’s head
around to the west.

Thekila swung her horse in beside him. “I hope things will
be quieter this year, anyway.”

Vatar looked off toward the horizon and frowned. “No. The
real battle is ahead of us, in Caere.”

“What do you mean by that?” Quetza asked.

Vatar shrugged. “I don’t know. I only know that it feels
true.”

Thekila reached across to take his hand. “We’ll be able to
deal with whatever it is.”

Vatar smiled at her. “Yes, we will. And that feels true,
too.”

With Vatar partially hampered by Zavar, Theklan and Quetza
helped Arcas to tend the small mixed herd of horses and cattle. Fortunately,
Arcas had brought two of the farm dogs with him. The dogs needed little
supervision to keep the herd under control and moving in the right direction.

Thekila was glad to have Vatar riding close beside her as
she balanced holding onto a squirming Savara and controlling her horse.

Thekila blinked as she experienced a new sensation. Then she
smiled, recognizing it for what it was—her new connection to her Totem Spirit.
She pointed up and slightly behind her. “There’s an eagle up there.”

Theklan nodded.

Vatar looked up, shielding his eyes. “I see it.”

“It’s hunting.” Thekila shifted her horse closer to Vatar’s
and passed him her reins. “Take these, just for a moment.” When he had her
horse’s reins, she took a firmer grip on Savara and then concentrated on the eagle.
Suddenly she saw the eagle’s viewpoint overlaid on her own. She blinked and
swayed in the saddle, seeing the earth at once so far below and at the same
time just under her horse’s hooves. The view wheeled in a way that threatened
to make her dizzy. A collection of small figures, distant and yet clear and
sharp. Thekila gulped, realizing that
she
was one of those figures. The
view whirled on, searching for yet-smaller shapes. Thekila saw the rabbit, just
before the eagle stooped for the kill. “He’s found a rabbit.” The smell of
blood made her stomach flip. She shook her head to clear it, letting go of her
distance viewing.

Quetza watched as the bird flapped back into the air,
carrying its catch. “How did you know it was a rabbit?”

Thekila smiled at Vatar as she took her reins back. “I could
see it. Like I was looking through the eyes of the eagle.”

Quetza grunted. “Well, I guess that settles part of the
mystery, at least. There has to be some interaction between the two kinds of
magic if it’s working the same for both of you.”

Vatar reached across to Thekila. “Are you all right?”

“Just a little dizzy. It’s . . . disquieting. The ground
seemed so far away. And the way the eagle circled didn’t help. Or the smell of
blood.” Thekila swallowed and gave Vatar another smile. “Next time, I think
I’ll make sure I’m sitting down—on firm ground.”

Theklan watched the bird as it disappeared into the
distance. “I want to try that.”

Thekila chuckled. “Then you’ll have to work harder on your
distance viewings.”

They stopped at a small waterhole at midday for a quick meal
and to rest the horses. Thekila looked around at the empty plains. “We’re far
enough from Zeda now, aren’t we? I want to try my avatar.”

“Why?” Vatar asked.

Thekila grinned at him. “To see if it’s changed now that I
have Dardani magic, too, of course. It won’t take long.”

Vatar looked over his shoulder to where Arcas was still
working on managing the herd. “Maybe not right here, though.”

Thekila followed his gaze. Arcas had been much more relaxed
about their magic since talking to Trev. Still, there was no need to test his
new attitude with something as obvious as a shape change. Only, it wouldn’t get
any easier to test this once they’d gotten back to Caere. Harder, in fact. She
looked around. No outcropping of rock stood at the back of this waterhole, but
a small copse of trees on the near side of the water offered at least a partial
screen. “The other side of those trees?”

“Good idea,” Quetza said and led the way.

Thekila stepped a short distance away from the others and
concentrated on putting herself into her avatar. The eagle shape came easily to
her from long practice, but this time it almost seemed that she was pulled into
the shape. She heard the gasps of her companions as her form flowed into that
of the eagle, but she didn’t need that to tell her that something extraordinary
had happened. She could feel it. She was not the usual giant eagle. She was a
normal-sized eagle and she felt as light as one of her feathers.

Thekila leapt skyward, scorning the ground and reveling in
the feeling of truly flying. It had never been like this. Always before she had
had to work so hard, to use her Powers to push herself into the air, to seek
the air currents to make a flight of more than a few moments even possible.
Now, her wings carried her easily, thrusting her upward with every stroke. She
opened her mouth to laugh with the joy of it, but what came out was a high,
piercing shriek. When she was so high she could hardly breathe, she closed her
wings and dove back toward the earth. She opened her wings and swooped just
above Vatar’s head, pulling herself into one more joyous loop before coming
back to earth and releasing her concentration. “I’ve
never
been able to
fly like that! That was glorious.”

Theklan bounced on his toes. “Will I be able to do that,
too?”

“Not until you learn to do a proper shape change,” Quetza
said. “It looks like we have an explanation for your lion, too, Vatar.”

Vatar shook his head. “Another case, but not an explanation.
We still don’t know
how
it’s possible. And it still doesn’t explain the
most important thing—that voice. That’s the thing I don’t have any control
over.”

~

As they neared Caere, Vatar concentrated on his father and
reached out with Far Speech.
“Father?”

“Yes, Vatar?”
Father’s answer came almost
immediately.

“We’re almost home.”
Vatar smiled and closed his arms
a little tighter around Zavar riding in front of him.
“And we’re bringing
the twins with us.”

Excitement radiated from Father. “Boreala and I will be
there tomorrow.”

Vatar’s smiled broadened. “I thought you might say that.
We’ll look forward to seeing you.”

~

Vatar wasn’t surprised when Father and Boreala arrived early
the next day.

Veleus immediately knelt down to talk to Zavar and Savara.
“Hello.”

Savara clutched Vatar’s leg and half-hid behind him. But
Zavar cocked his head and looked up. “You look like my papa.”

Father chuckled. “That’s because I’m
his
father.” He
gestured back to Boreala hovering just behind him. “And this is my daughter. Your
father’s sister and your aunt.”

Boreala squatted down next to her father. Lured in, Savara
released her grip on Vatar’s leg and walked forward to stand beside her
brother.

Father stood up. “He has a remarkable perception for his
age, Vatar.”

“He’s a very remarkable little boy,” Thekila said. “He can
already hear Vatar, too.” She tapped her temple to indicate the kind of hearing
she meant.

Vatar shook his head. “We don’t know that. Only that he can
sense my Far Sight.”

Father looked back at Zavar and then at Vatar, who nodded.
“At his age! That’s very unusual.”

Boreala stood up, letting the twins return to their play.
She looked with some amusement between Vatar and Thekila. “Well, Thekila,
before my little brother starts pestering me, perhaps we’d better go inside so
I can assure him professionally that everything is fine with you and the baby.
As if I couldn’t see that already.”

Vatar gave Thekila a gentle squeeze and grinned at Boreala.
“It would set my mind at rest if you would. It’s a long ride between here and
Zeda.”

Boreala chuckled. “Exercise is good for her at this stage,
Vatar. Soon enough, it’ll get harder for her to move that much.”

“I keep telling you I feel fine.” Thekila’s face darkened
slightly. “Well, except when I smell meat, but that’s—”

 “Or look through the eyes of a flying eagle,” Vatar
said.

Thekila made a face. “That would make anyone dizzy.”

Boreala took her arm. “I recommend just not doing things
that are likely to make you dizzy for the next few months. But I can give you
something that will help with more ordinary nausea.”

Thekila smiled. “Well, then, by all means.”

As the two women walked toward the house, Father turned to
Vatar. “Looking through the eyes of an eagle?”

Vatar shrugged. “Thekila was adopted into the Eagle Clan while
we were at Zeda. Some of the same things happened to her. There’s the shadow of
an eagle in her Far Speech. She can see through the eyes of the eagles, the way
I did with lions. And her avatar changed. Instead of being a really big eagle,
she’s a normal-sized eagle, now. Smaller than her actual self, just like my
lion is bigger than me. Don’t tell her, but it scared me to death when she flew
in that form.”

Father shook his head. “That should be even less possible
than your too-large avatar. But, I guess it just proves it’s the result of
mixing the two kinds of magic—or whatever you call it.”

Vatar shrugged. “Trev, the Shaman, doesn’t believe in either
label. But he doesn’t seem bothered by calling our connection to the Spirits
magic, either.”

“Well, that’s an answer to at least some of your questions.”
Father paused and looked back in the direction of the city. “Let’s keep that to
ourselves, though. I don’t know how the Council would react to that knowledge.”

Vatar grunted. “There is one other thing, Father. We still
haven’t found a satisfactory answer about that voice I hear. But the shaman,
Trev, thinks there’s one way he can find out what that voice is once and for
all.”

Father cocked his head to the side. “Why haven’t you done
this already, then?”

Vatar looked back toward the house. “It needs some
preparation. And . . . he won’t attempt the exorcism without both you and
Mother. That’s why he’s coming here next spring.”

Father drew back in alarm. “An exorcism! Vatar—”

Vatar attempted a reassuring smile. “It’s all right, Father.
It won’t be like the one Maktaz was planning. Trev says the Modgud ceremony is
very different. Gentler. You will help, won’t you? You and Boreala?”

Father’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re going to go through with
this, I will certainly be here. To protect you.”

Vatar’s smile grew a little broader. “That’s why Trev wants
you to be part of this.” His eyes grew more serious. “I have to do this,
Father. I have to understand what’s happening.”