Wild Magic

‘It was going so well.’ Onua was grooming the ponies. ‘She laughed.’

Numair rubbed his elbow. He’d got off lightly – Cloud had only barely nicked the skin. ‘She’ll laugh again.’

Daine kept to herself, and the adults left her alone, talking quietly. When cleanup was done, they did the sitting thing. It was as Tahoi had shown her: with eyes closed and legs crossed they sat, hands on their knees, breathing as if they were asleep. In fact, Daine went to sleep watching them.

That night it came to her that Ma and Grandda probably wouldn’t mind if she had fun now and then. They’d been partial to fun, making berry strings or playing catch with the bread dough. In her packs were two of the dancing puppets Grandda had made for her birthdays: the horse and one that looked just like Ma. The others had been ruined, but she had saved these.

She got up in the morning with caution and sent the raccoon and the marten who had spent that night with her on their way. She hated apologies, but if Onua and Numair were angry, she would make some.

Luck was on her side. Their grouchiness seemed to be normal morning grouchiness; all they wanted to do was drink their tea, eat their food, and get moving. Daine let it go at that. If they weren’t angry about how she’d behaved, why remind them?

They made good progress that day. Once supper and cleanup were done, Numair stretched. ‘Let’s go, Onua. You won’t improve without practice.’

Daine knew what came next. ‘What’s the sitting thing?’ They looked at her blankly. ‘You know – what you’re going to do now.’

‘Meditation,’ Numair said. ‘It clears the mind, and rests it. If you have the Gift, meditation helps your discipline.’ His eyes were thoughtful as they rested on her. ‘Would you like to learn?’

‘I don’t have the Gift.’ Was he going to start on that?

He shrugged. ‘It’s not only for the Gifted. I told you, it rests the mind. It helps you get a – a grip on the way you think.’

‘It helps you decide what you want,’ Onua added. ‘And how to get it.’

Daine scuffed her foot in the dust. ‘Is it hard?’

Both of them smiled. ‘You won’t know till you try,’ Numair pointed out.

Daine shrugged and sat as they did, tailor-style. ‘Now what?’

‘Hands on your knees. Sit straight. Close your eyes. Let the thoughts empty out. For tonight, that’s enough. Just let your thoughts go.’

Daine heard Tahoi sigh. Now he had no one to play with.

The next morning they weren’t far from their camp when riders overtook them on the road: Alanna and the men of the King’s Own. Daine was startled to see that the Lioness, so friendly before, was now pale with fury. Darkmoon was as angry as his mistress. He pranced and fidgeted until Daine went to his head. He calmed slowly under her hands.

‘He’s gone,’ the knight told them. ‘From the looks of it, he fled the minute he knew you were safe. Curse him! Those dungeons of his—’

‘I know,’ whispered Numair. He looked suddenly tired.

‘I don’t understand,’ Onua protested. ‘You searched?’

‘We did.’ Alanna rubbed her neck. ‘His servants claimed Stormwings came, with a box, like a sedan chair. They flew off with him in it.’

‘Then they can be talked to,’ Numair said. ‘They’re intelligent.’

‘Sure they are,’ Daine said. ‘They talked to Onua and me in the marsh.’

‘She’s right,’ the K’mir told them. ‘And they searched for Numair in patterns after they lost him.’

The Lioness sighed. ‘Lovely. More fun. All right – we have to see the king. Come along as soon as you can now. Be sure to ward your camp at night!’

‘We’ll do fine,’ Numair told her. ‘See you at the palace.’

The knight and Hakim nodded, and within a few moments the company was galloping out of sight.

Four mornings later Onua and her companions topped a rise, and Daine thought her eyes would fall from her head. Before them a river halved a valley that cupped a walled city and more houses than she could count. At the heart of the valley three bridges linked the northern and southern banks, and roads entered the city from every angle. In the west, the city broke through its wall to climb a long slope dotted with estates and temples.

Above everything stood a huge castle shielded by high walls. Its towers, flying bright-coloured flags, shone in the early sun. A small dome placed among them glowed silver like a giant pearl. Black dots like ants climbed a broad, white-paved road from the city below, to scatter before the walls and stream in through several gates.

‘That’s the palace,’ Numair said. ‘Home of the most unusual royal couple in all history and their peculiar court.’

‘I don’t think “unusual” and “peculiar” are the right words,’ protested Onua, and Tahoi barked agreement.

‘Do you live there?’ Daine asked the man.

He shook his head. ‘I live south, along the coast. They have rooms for me here, though.’ He looked at Onua. ‘Press on?’ She nodded.

Their road took them around the city until they reached a bridge over a deep moat. Here the palace wall was only ten feet high; the gate was a simple affair of wood and iron. Inside lay a small town, its air scented with molten copper, pine, cows, and baking. All this, Numair said, supported the palace. Daine shook her head in awe.

Guards in maroon and beige waved them across the bridge. Inside the gate, Numair pointed to the palace. ‘I go that way – I need to report in.’

Tears stung Daine’s eyes. You knew he’d leave sometime, she scolded herself. This is it. Don’t be a baby. He’s got important things to do!

A big hand patted her shoulder. ‘Just for now,’ the man said quietly. ‘I’ll see you again soon.’

Onua grinned when he kissed her cheek. ‘You just can’t wait to lay hands on your books again. I know that look in your eye.’

‘She does too,’ Numair admitted. ‘Take care of our Daine.’ He waved and headed towards the palace, hands in his pockets.

‘Come on,’ Onua told her. ‘It’s this way.’

Following her out of the gate’s inner yard, Daine saw more wonders. Around them soared the levels of the palace, with wings and turrets in many styles telling of additions over time. She saw more glass in a look than she’d seen in her life. Her nose smelled flowers, both plain and exotic; her ears were filled with creaking wagons, shouting people, and the clang of metal.

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