The Voice of Prophecy (Dual Magics Book 2) (34 page)

“Still . . . just take care of each other,” Thekila said.

Quetza grinned. “We will. Don’t worry about that.”

Vatar clapped Orleus’s leg. “Fair skies, you two.”

Orleus smiled. “For you, also. We’ll meet again. Maybe this
winter. Or next year, here at Zeda.”

“And, in the meantime, we’re never farther away than this.”
Quetza tapped the side of her head to indicate Far Speech.

With a final wave, the two turned their horses toward the
south and rode off. Orleus’s dogs gave a joyous bark and ran ahead.

Thekila leaned against Vatar. “I hope they’ll be as happy as
we are.”

Vatar put his arm around her waist. “It’ll be different for
them. But they’ll make their own kind of happiness together.”

She looked up at him. “Does that feel true?”

Vatar gave her a squeeze, knowing she was referring to his
Talent of Fore Sight without mentioning the word magic around the superstitious
Dardani. “Yes. Yes, it does.”

Chapter
2: Trust

Vatar and Thekila watched until the departing horses were
almost lost to sight before turning back to the village. When they came in
sight of their hut, they found Avaza watching hungrily as the twins played
under the watchful eyes of Theklan and Vatar’s younger sister, Kiara. They
giggled as Vatar’s little brother, Fenar, just a year older than the twins,
jumped out at them from hiding. Vatar laughed, too.

Thekila pulled on his arm to make him stop. She cast one
distrustful look at Avaza before looking up into his eyes, which wasn’t
necessary with Far Speech, far less communicating through their bond, but it
would make better sense to any casual observer.
I overheard a few comments
about possession this morning when I went down to the waterhole. Avaza hasn’t
stopped spreading those rumors. Don’t trust her.

Vatar nodded, his eyes narrowing.
Thanks for the warning.
He stepped forward, making his footstep deliberately loud so that Avaza
would hear him.

Avaza turned toward him, smiling insincerely. “Hello, Vatar.
I . . . I wondered if you’d let me have the twins again, for as long as you’re
here at Zeda.”

Vatar looked past her to where the twins were now piled on
top of Fenar. “We’re not going to be here that long this year, Avaza. Only a seven-day
or two at most.”

Avaza bit her lip. “Even a little time is better than none.
It’s been almost a year since I last saw them. They’ve grown so much.”

Vatar was silent for a moment as if he was considering it.
Actually, he would have been reluctant to let Avaza take the twins even without
Thekila’s warning. The winter had been eventful for Zavar and Savara—kidnapped,
rescued with considerable use of magic, carried to safety by Quetza transformed
into a white wyvern, and Savara’s injury magically healed. It’d be only natural
for Avaza, as their mother, to ask about their winter and it was entirely too
much to expect four-year-olds not to talk about adventures like that. And Vatar
knew it would be as much as his life was worth to trust Avaza with knowledge of
his magic among the superstitious, magic-fearing Dardani. Bad enough she’d
started talk of possession. He could defend against that, knowing that it
wasn’t true.

Finally, he shook his head. “I don’t think so, Avaza. They
are growing fast. It’s important at their age to have good examples to
follow—honorable examples. I’d trust Ariad with that, of course.” He turned his
head to meet her eyes. “But not you.”

Avaza reeled back as if he’d struck her. “What do you mean
by that?”

Vatar sighed. Avaza never seemed to expect her actions to
have consequences. She never seemed to learn, either. “Avaza, last year you as
good as admitted spying on me and my family while we conferred with the shaman.
That can hardly be considered honorable. It would take a real fool not to
connect that with the rumors that I’m possessed that started shortly after
that. Which—again—is not true, Avaza.” Vatar had to hold his voice steady not
to betray himself with that statement. He wasn’t possessed—exactly. The fact
that one of his distant ancestors sometimes spoke to him in his mind was
irrelevant. Taleus couldn’t actually
make
Vatar do anything. All Taleus
could do was offer occasional advice and sometimes help to keep Vatar calm in a
crisis. Not the same thing as possession, though Vatar seriously doubted Avaza
would see the distinction.

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t make it worse by adding lying to the list,” Vatar
interrupted. “I’m not a fool. And I know you too well.” He drew a deep breath.
“Avaza, once before you asked me to name the price of your honor for spreading
stories about me. That time, I thought Maktaz had tricked you into it, so I set
the price of your honor low. To make the same mistake twice . . . Well, I’m not
inclined to set a price this time. I won’t stoop to your level and spread the
word that you are without honor—unless circumstances force me to it. You might
want to bear that in mind.”

Vatar shook his head again. “You know, you haven’t really
thought this through, Avaza. If your rumor-mongering makes things too
uncomfortable for me among the Dardani, I’ll simply take the twins back to
Caere—and stay there. You’d never see them again if that happened. Or, if
anything did happen to me, my family would take Zavar and Savara and raise them
alongside little Fenar. I expect Mother would be even less sympathetic than I
am in that case. Your best course is to try to mend your errors—and not repeat
them. I wish I had confidence that you were actually capable of that.” He
looked back toward the romping children. “As for the twins, you’ll have to
prove to me that you understand your wrongs—and sincerely correct them—before
I’ll trust you with them.” Vatar strode on past Avaza toward the hut.

Thekila smiled as she caught up with him. “Nicely handled. I
wonder if she’ll mend her ways after she chews that over.”

Vatar shrugged. “Knowing Avaza, I wouldn’t count on it. It’d
be like her to try even harder to discredit me. Good thing Trev told all the
chiefs—and the new shaman—that I’m not possessed before he went home. Pa saw to
that. Won’t stop the rumors, though.”

~

Vatar looked up and sighed when he
saw Ariad standing outside his workshop. He should be happy to see his old
friend, but he had a feeling that his appearance now had more to do with Avaza,
now Ariad’s year mate, than with Vatar. He set aside the repair he’d been about
to start. “Fair skies, Ariad.”

Ariad nodded. “Fair skies, Vatar.”

“What can I do for you?”

Ariad shifted uncomfortably. “Avaza is very upset. Could you
see your way clear to let us take care of the twins for even just a couple of
days? As a favor to me?”

Vatar drew in a deep breath and let it out. “Ariad, there’s
very little I wouldn’t do for you. But I won’t let my children become part of
whatever Avaza is up to this time. That, I can’t do.”

“I know she crossed the line last summer, prying into your
business with the shaman. But she really is just concerned about the welfare of
the children,” Ariad said.

Vatar shook his head. “I don’t really care what she thinks
she’s going to accomplish by spreading rumors again, Ariad. I can’t just ignore
that. Not after what happened last time.”

Ariad spread his hands out, palms up. “She’s . . .” He
paused, blinking. “Wait. What do you mean
again
?”

Vatar picked up the bent hand weeder he’d been about to
straighten.
How could Ariad not know this?
“You remember three years
ago, all the rumors that sprang up before I was forced to challenge Maktaz to
the Ordeal?”

“Y-es.” Ariad made two syllables of the word.

“Well, all of those rumors were based on things—perfectly
innocent things—that Avaza told Maktaz, because she was upset that I had been
forced to take our children into the Lion Clan to protect them from Maktaz. She
came to me at midsummer and confessed what she’d done. Ask Pa or Mother. Or old
Draza of the Raven Clan. They were there. Avaza asked me to set the price of
her honor. I thought that Maktaz had tricked her, so I set a simple price. Only
that she tell the truth—even if no one believed her.” Vatar sighed. “Now, I
think I set the price too low. She thinks she can get away with pulling the
same trick that Maktaz tried. But I told her and now I’m telling you, I won’t
set a price for the same breach of honor twice. And I won’t trust her with the
twins until I’m sure I can trust her not to use them as Maktaz once used her.
They’re at a very impressionable age. I don’t want them learning to follow
Avaza’s example.”

Ariad swallowed. “I . . . I didn’t know any of that.”

Vatar smiled wryly. “I didn’t think you did. I trust
your
honor implicitly. Avaza will have to prove hers to me. I’m sorry, but that’s my
final word.”

Ariad nodded. “I understand.” He winced. “Avaza’s still not
going to be happy.”

Vatar thought back on what living with an unhappy Avaza had
been like for the few months they were year mates. “My sympathies.”

Ariad drew a deep breath and let it out. “We should have
become life mates last year. She wants to have more children—children she can
keep, this time. But then when she . . . spied on your interactions with Trev.
I thought maybe she still . . . had some feelings for you. So, I put it off.
Now . . .”

“Oh, she has feelings for me all right. She hates my guts.”
Vatar closed his eyes, briefly. “Ariad, Avaza and I were always a mistake. We’d
never have been able to stay together for a second year even if we hadn’t
complicated things for ourselves by going to Caere. If we’d taken the time to
know each other better first, we’d have known that and never become year mates
in the first place. The stress of being in Caere just made things worse. By the
time we returned, we were barely talking to each other. And then I had to take
our children from her to keep them safe from Maktaz. I can’t really blame Avaza
for having a very particular kind of enmity for me.” He grimaced. “Her actions
are another matter. She can hate me all she wants, but trying to harm me or
mine is something entirely different.” He let out his breath. “What I’m saying
is that you shouldn’t judge based only on how she behaves toward me. What’s
important is whether you think
you
can trust her.”

“Maybe. As you’ve said yourself, it’s also important what
her example would teach any child of ours.”

Vatar nodded agreement with that. “Maybe you should talk to
someone less biased. I confess, Avaza isn’t my favorite person, either.”

Ariad started to leave, then turned back. “Is this why you
asked me and my father to sponsor Thekila and Theklan into the Eagle Clan last
year? So that their word would carry more weight than Avaza’s in my clan.”

Vatar shook his head again. “No. I won’t pretend I didn’t
recognize that aspect. But there are other reasons why Thekila belonged in the
Eagle Clan.” Vatar paused. The next obvious question was what those reasons
were. And, since they all involved magic, they were not things he could explain
to any Dardani. He wasn’t about to explain to Ariad that Thekila could
Transform into an eagle, just like Vatar could take the form of a lion. There
was, perhaps, one thing he could tell Ariad, though. “When they tattooed her
Clan Mark, did you see the little charm she wears around her neck?”

Ariad cocked his head to one side. “I was preoccupied with
Theklan, but my father said she wore a little metal eagle on a chain. I thought
it was maybe something you’d made for her.”

“No, that’s not my handiwork,” Vatar said. “Her people all
wear similar amulets, though they’re all different. It’s always some animal
that represents that person’s . . . spirit, if you will. The eagle was the
symbol they chose for her. Thekila was an eagle long before she was adopted by
your clan.” That much, at least, was certainly true. Truer than Ariad would
ever know.

Ariad smiled. “Then she’s in the right clan.”

Chapter 3: Kausalya

Gerusa looked around her new apartment with displeasure. It
was not quite rustic, but the Fasallon Palace in Kausalya wasn’t nearly as
large or luxurious as the Palace of the Fasallon in Caere. On the other hand,
it hadn’t been hard to persuade the Kausalyan Council to name her their new
leader. They’d already, very sensibly, put restrictions in place to keep
Cestus’s rebellion from reaching their city. She finally had the position at
the head of the Council table she’d always wanted and deserved—just in a much
smaller city. Well, that would be amended in time.

Actually, though it had seemed like disaster at first, this
removal to Kausalya might actually work to her benefit in the long run.
Already, she had the basis of a plan. Admittedly, this plan would take longer
to carry out, but the prize would be worth it. Never mind heading the High
Council. Gerusa just might be able to supplant them all and rule as sole
representative of the Sea Gods. No. Not representative. She’d rule absolutely
as a goddess in her own right. She just needed to consolidate her position
here.

She smiled at the thought. She didn’t actually need to do
anything for the first part of her plan to play out without her raising a
finger. Without her—and her Talent for Transformations—the Festival in Caere
was bound to fail. There’d be uncertainty and unrest following that. The
Caereans would begin to lose confidence in the High Council. That would show
them for their supreme bad judgment in rejecting her.

Follow that up with shortages. Caere actually grew—or fished
for—only a portion of its food. Much came from the other coastal cities along
with other commodities the Caereans had become accustomed to. And most of that
came either from Kausalya’s rich farm land or through Kausalya from Tysoe. Just
a little tightening of the exports—perhaps a tariff on goods shipped through
Kausalya from Tysoe—and there would be shortages in Caere this winter. And
still more loss of faith in the High Council.

Fortunately, she’d still be able to coordinate with her
daughter, Selene, with Far Speech. She’d know exactly how much things were
disrupted—and be able to judge whether to squeeze still tighter.

Of course, she still needed a strategy for how to exploit
the situation when things were at their worst. That was going to take a little
time to formulate. First, she had to determine what allies and assets she had
to work with in this little backwater city.