Wolf's Blood (74 page)

Derian grimaced at the image, but Isende didn’t appear offended.

“And now you think—or Kalyndra does—that you are a spellcaster.”

“That’s right,” Isende said. “She had me do some simple routines that her own people commonly used to test for ability. I didn’t see anything spectacular, but she seemed confident that I had at least a trickle of ability. There isn’t enough time to teach me anything complex, but there is some hope that I can help to relay spell effects.”

Derian recalled with painful clarity the one time he had seen such a group spell being built—and what had happened to those who had attempted it when Firekeeper had barged in and ruined their concentration. It had not been at all pretty, and had been very fatal for those intertwined in the spell’s power.

“You’ll be careful?” he said, torn between his duty to find ways for the Nexans to defend themselves, and a strong desire to defend this one young lady.

“I will,” Isende promised. “And I wouldn’t worry too much. Ynamynet’s best hopes are that we can come up with some defensive spells—mostly spells meant to counteract spells our opponents might use. Attack, apparently, involves forces she doesn’t think either she or Kalyndra can handle.”

“So we have three Once Dead spellcasters,” Derian said, thinking back to what had been said when his flippant interruption had triggered Isende’s startling revelation.

“Actually,” she said, her grin taking the edge off her pedantry, “we have five.”

“Enigma,” Derian said. “I tend to forget him because all he seems interested in is working the gates—and he has become very good at that. Can he learn more?”

“Again,” Isende said, “Ynamynet and Kalyndra don’t think they have time to teach Enigma anything complex, but he has expressed a willingness to act as a relay for any spells they want to try.”

“Good,” Derian said. He couldn’t say the news made him precisely hopeful, but it was nice to know they weren’t quite as vulnerable to the other side’s magic as he had thought. “But you said five. I’ve been trying, but I can’t think of a fifth unless Frostweed or True Star or Arasan has shown more versatility than was initially thought.”

“No,” Isende said. She looked for a moment as if she might make him work out the answer himself, but perhaps how very tired he was showed. “Tell me. How did Firekeeper and Blind Seer and that falcon, Elation, get back here?”

“By gate,” Derian said promptly. Then he repeated more slowly. “By gate … That’s right. Someone would have had to work it. I guess I thought maybe they called on the Meddler, or Firekeeper found some way to force that Virim, but I don’t think I really thought about it at all. Are you telling me that Firekeeper is a spellcaster?”

Isende shook her head. “Not Firekeeper. Her abilities seem to be talents related to the plant and animal worlds. No. Not Firekeeper. Blind Seer.”

This time Derian gaped, letting his shock and momentary revulsion show plainly before he remembered to hide them. The thought that the wolf he had traveled with, had let guard his back, had trusted, was a spellcaster was almost more than he could accept.

“Blind Seer did have querinalo when I did,” he managed weakly. “That wouldn’t have happened if he didn’t have any magical talent. I guess I never really worried about what he did have because no one ever mentioned what it was.”

“No one mentioned it,” Isende said, “because, as far as I can tell, Blind Seer never told anyone what lay at the root of his vulnerability to querinalo, even after he had survived.

“I don’t know what your experience was, but when I had querinalo I could feel the nature of my abilities. For the first time, I realized that I had two distinct magical elements within me: my link to Tiniel, and something else that even then I suspected might be a more generalized ability—a spellcasting ability—although I didn’t learn until later to think about it as that.

“Later, when I had learned more, I didn’t want to accept that I could be a Once Dead spellcaster. I’d seen how terrible the Once Dead could become in their arrogance and their power. I didn’t want to be in the least like them. I suspect Blind Seer felt the same as I did.”

“Or even worse,” Derian said. “I don’t think the Royal Beasts even admit to the possibility of spellcasting Beasts. Talented Beasts, yes, but the ability to create and use spells seems to be something the Royal Beasts considered a solely human abomination.”

“And they really may not have been aware that it was possible for a Beast to cast spells,” Isende said. “Spellcasting is a very strange sort of talent. From what Kalyndra told me, if someone who has the talent goes untrained, it can remain unformed, a dormant force.”

“I understand,” Derian said. “At least I think I do. Spellcasters have the ability to work raw magical energy, but if no one tells them how to do it—if they have no idea even where to start—the ability might well stay dormant.”

“Except for creating,” Isende said, as if from experience, “a sort of restless feeling that you should be able to do something, but no idea even what that something is. I must say, you seem to understand this very well. Are you …”

Derian held up his hands in a defensive gesture before she could complete the question. “Oh, no. Don’t start thinking I have a spellcaster’s power, too. I’m sure I don’t. But my profession back before I was sent off with Earl Kestrel and so started my wanderings gives me some odd insights.”

“You worked at your family’s stables,” Isende said. “How would that help you to understand magic?”

“Have you ever bridled a horse?”

“Sure, and harnessed oxen. My family owned a farm, remember.”

Derian grinned. “Well, you must have been preternaturally observant if you didn’t find all those straps and buckles really confusing—especially the first couple of times you had to put on a harness.”

Isende laughed. “I remember. I used to ride my pony with just a halter, but when my parents bought me my first horse, he had enough spirit that a bridle was needed rather than just a halter. I remember just staring at the thing when it was handed to me. I knew how it should go on. I’d seen the stable hands slip them on more times than I could count, but now that I was the one doing it I could hardly figure out which part went where.”

“Right,” Derian said. “Confused, with no way to figure out what goes where, that’s how I figure a Royal Beast with a spellcasting talent might feel. Tangled. Even worse, coming from a culture that didn’t even admit to the possibility of that type of magical ability manifesting, the Beast would need to be very, very clever to evolve the idea that his unformed power needed spells to give it shape.”

Isende said, “I’ve talked to Plik about his own training. I understand from Harjeedian that Truth was given extensive training in how to read omens. What you’re saying is that the Royal Beasts wouldn’t have had any such tradition. They’d turn a blind eye to talents, especially useful ones, but they wouldn’t give any training in how to use them.”

“None,” Derian agreed. “And after the Beasts lost the lands east of the Iron Mountains to humans during the early days when the Old World was colonizing the New, the Beasts blamed their loss on human sorcery.”

“And so if any Royal Beast had received the faintest hint of what might dwell within him,” Isende said. nodding in understanding, “he wouldn’t have dared mention it. At best, admitting you suspected you were a spellcaster would be like admitting you had found a source of water after everyone had died of thirst. At worst, you might find yourself classified a traitor.”

Derian walked for a bit, thinking this over.

“Well, I think we now have a fairly good idea why Blind Seer has been in such a very strange mood. Remember how he ran out of that one meeting? We were discussing spellcasting, and Virim.”

“You told me.” Isende colored a little. “At the time, I thought Blind Seer’s edginess had more to do with the Meddler being the one who was prompting Firekeeper to go looking for a cure to querinalo. I can’t get rid of the feeling that the Meddler is more than a little interested in Firekeeper—and not just in the way he was interested in me and Tiniel. I think the Meddler is interested in Firekeeper as a … well … woman …”

“Something your spellcasting talent is telling you?” Derian asked teasingly.

“I think more like woman’s intuition,” Isende replied, squeezing Derian’s hand. “Or maybe I’m just seeing romance everywhere I look. They say that happens when you fall in love.”

She looked up at him and smiled. Bending to kiss Isende gently on the lips, Derian was astonished to realize how that one smile could make his infinity of worries melt away—if only for a moment.

XXXVI

  “I HAVE BEEN trying to decide,” Blind Seer said to Firekeeper as they ran back toward the Setting Sun stronghold, “if we have ever tried quite so hard to get ourselves killed.”

Firekeeper didn’t slow as she reached out and stroked her hand along the soft fur on his back.

“We’re not trying to get ourselves killed. Do you mean because we are voluntarily returning to an isolated island that is about to be attacked from the sea—with an attempt made via the gates as well—that we are trying to get ourselves killed?”

“Something like that,” Blind Seer replied. His panting held laughter rather than fear or weariness.

“That’s not trying to get ourselves killed,” Firekeeper said. “It’s only trying to keep those we care about from getting killed. What would a life preserved at the cost of Derian’s or Plik’s or even Harjeedian’s life be worth? I have enough nightmares without creating more.”

“I was wondering,” Blind Seer said, “if those nightmares would be eased or enhanced if I were …”

Uncharacteristically, he paused in midthought. Firekeeper did not prod or probe, only kept on with her steady, easy pace. Her bow thumped lightly against her back. The summer sun was rising to the east. Soon these southern lands would be hot and sticky, but temperatures on the Nexus Islands would actually be pleasant.

Good weather for fighting, she thought, if we must fight, as it seems we must. At least those of our company who are furred need not be concerned about collapsing from heat stroke.

“Ynamynet,” Blind Seer said, “and Kalyndra came to me soon after our return. They realized the implications of our arrival via gate, and were certain that Virim had not done the spell to send us through. They had already checked to see if you possessed any traces of a spellcaster’s power, and had ruled that out. They did not take long to decide who must have made the gate work.”

“And?”

“And they want me to join them in some complex of workings that they feel will give us a chance to not so much defeat as defuse most of the magics the invaders may turn against us.”

“Ah?”

“The gates should be secure,” Blind Seer went on, lengthening his stride a bit, as if chasing the idea he was articulating. “The iron that cages them is sound. However, even if one of those cages is broken, Ynamynet feels that the iron itself will warp the ability of any who cross into that area to work spells.”

“I wish I were so confident,” Firekeeper said, thinking that the Old World sorcerers who had attempted the gates earlier in the spring had been able to manage a return.

“I think Ynamynet wishes that she were so confident as well,” Blind Seer laughed. “However, her point is well made. There are only two trained spellcasters in our number. Three others of us have some power, but we are like pups who have just shed our milk teeth. We can bite, but we know little about getting the most from our new fangs. So Ynamynet and Kalyndra must focus their efforts somewhere. They hope to discourage those spellcasters who might try and work magic against us from a distance while safe aboard ships at sea.”

“Good thinking,” Firekeeper said. “I had not considered that.”

“Both of those ladies,” Blind Seer replied, “know more about war and magic than either of them might wish.”

“And you,” Firekeeper said, “do you wish to learn more about war and magic?”

“Not really,” the wolf said, “but I think I should do what I can. If querinalo had given me cat’s claws, I would not like them much, but I would not hesitate to use them in defense of you and of our pack. Is this any different?”

“Only if you feel it is so,” Firekeeper said.

“I did, once,” Blind Seer admitted, “but when we returned I spoke with one of the ospreys who have been scouting the fleet. What he described made me shiver with fear as I have not shivered since I was a pup. When the osprey took wing, Truth came to me. She told me that the omens were not good, but that they were worse if magic were not used against our opponents. She did not say what magic, or whose magic, but I am no fool.”

“Did you believe her?”

“How could I fail to do so when she stared directly at me, Ahmyn’s fire blue and white in her eyes? There is no doubt that she sees omens, no doubt that she reads them with trepidation.”

“Yet she has not fled,” Firekeeper said. “So there must be some hope. A great cat has no fellow feeling. She would not stay if there was no hope.”

“I think you are too harsh in your judgement of Truth,” Blind Seer said.

They had reached the stronghold now, and slowed to a walk as they passed through the open gate and padded to where Doc and Elise had set up housekeeping with the evacuated children and infirm of the Nexus Islands.