Wild Magic

‘Never.’ She turned her back on it – let it die slowly – and found a log where she could sit, shuddering in horror. Grandda had told her stories about monsters, human-headed and spider-bodied, named spidrens. A brave man hunted them best at night, he’d said: their webs glowed in the dark.

A hand rested on her shoulder. ‘Little girl, your ancestors are proud tonight.’ It was the sentry, the man Hakim. ‘You are the best archer I have ever seen – better even than the Lioness.’

Alanna nodded. She knelt beside the thing, examining it with a stick rather than touching it herself. ‘We’re lucky you sensed them coming, Daine.’

The girl swallowed, thinking, You couldn’t pay me to touch that, even with a stick. ‘The hedgehogs woke me. They didn’t know what was out there. I could feel something wrong was close, but I didn’t think it’d look like – like this.’ Wincing as the knight pulled the thing’s head back by the hair—it was dead now – she added, ‘Grandda told me stories about spidrens, but he said they were killed, ages and ages ago.’

‘Not killed.’ Hakim’s voice was steady, but his face glowed with sweat. ‘They were imprisoned in the Divine Realms four hundred years ago, by the greatest of shamans.’

‘You mean they’re gods?’

‘Immortals and gods aren’t the same. They just live in the same place.’ Alanna dusted her hands. ‘Like the Stormwings, Daine. They were shut into the Divine Realms at the same time, along with a great many other creatures. Griffins, dragons, and so on.’

Daine swallowed: there were more of these? What if they were loose too, escaped from the prison where they’d been locked for so long?

‘Horse Lords.’ Onua had found them. ‘Lioness, what—’

‘They’re called spidrens.’ The knight’s voice was almost matter-of-fact. ‘Goddess knows how many of us they would have killed and dragged off to munch on if your Daine hadn’t been alert.’

‘You killed one too,’ Daine reminded her. She went to the clearing’s edge and listened to the woods beyond, just in case. All around she heard creatures stirring, large and small, as they resumed their night’s business. I don’t know if I’d ever come out of my burrow again, she thought.

Remembering an obligation, she glanced behind her. Hakim and Onua were going over the spidren, using sticks. Most of the camp had come to watch, and to marvel. One of the soldiers was vomiting at the edge of the clearing, which made her feel better. At least she hadn’t thrown up.

She faced the trees where the bat had fled after warning them. ‘Thanks, wing-friend,’ she whispered. ‘Thank you for both of us.’ In the darkness ahead, a bat squeaked in reply. Daine smiled and went back to the humans.

‘It’s over,’ she told Alanna. ‘The animals are coming out.’ She felt suddenly exhausted; the burn on her hand throbbed.

Onua put an arm around her. ‘We’ve both had enough excitement. Come on.’ She steered her to their fire. ‘Are you all right?’ She hissed in sympathy when Daine showed her the burn, and got her medicines. Daine barely remembered having the burn cleansed and bandaged, she was so tired. The pain gone, she got into bed.

‘You’re certain you’re all right?’ The woman was plainly concerned.

Daine smiled at her. ‘I think so.’ The hedgehogs snuggled in around her once more. ‘I’ll have nightmares, for sure.’

‘Me too,’ Onua sighed. ‘At least we’re alive to have them.’ She eased into her own bed.

‘What of him? The hawk – the man?’ Daine pointed at the patient’s tent.

Onua smiled. ‘Master Salmalín slept through the whole thing. He’ll be mad as fire when he hears too. Spidrens are more his line than ours.’

Daine said shyly, ‘Why didn’t you tell me the truth? About the hawk?’

A sigh came from the other bedroll. ‘His shape-shifting – it’s a secret. Only a few people know, and we’re not supposed to tell. It isn’t that I don’t trust you – I do.’

‘He’s a spy?’

‘Only sometimes, when the king’s spymaster can’t send anyone else.’

‘He was just supposed to get well and fly off, and I’d never know.’

‘That was the plan.’ There was a rueful note in Onua’s voice.

‘I know now.’

‘Yes. You planning to tell somebody?’

Daine thought about that. ‘You just said it’s a secret, didn’t you? I won’t tell.’

‘Good. Now go to sleep.’

No one left the camp by the river the next day. The men of the King’s Own burned the dead monsters and searched the woods for more. The Lioness and Onua sat with their patient all morning. In the afternoon they summoned Hakim and another soldier who carried a writing desk.

Daine kept out of the way of the men. She wasn’t used to being noticed and greeted by so many people. Her caution did not extend to their mounts, of course. Once she’d cared for her ponies, she looked at the big horses. Her favourite was Alanna’s mount, the young stallion who had greeted her so happily the day before. She examined every inch of him, crooning praises into his ear.

‘I think the feeling’s mutual.’

Daine jumped – once again the Lioness had come up unheard. She grinned at the knight. ‘He’s a beauty.’

‘His name is Darkmoon.’ The stallion lipped Alanna’s breeches pockets. ‘He’s spoiled rotten.’ Fishing a lump of sugar out, she fed it to him. ‘His grandam was my first horse – a fine mare, true to the bone.’ Giving Darkmoon another sugar lump, she added, ‘You saved my life last night.’

Daine blushed. ‘You saved mine.’ Purple eyes are very unnerving when they look at you, she thought. Or is it that she’s got so much Gift it leaks over to all she does?

‘Where did you learn to shoot like that?’

‘My grandda taught me. Carved me that bow too.’

‘You’d think, your size, you’d only be able to manage a smaller one.’

Daine shrugged. ‘I’ve always been a fair shot.’

The woman snorted, but her eyes never left Daine’s face. She toyed with the gem around her neck. ‘Three times you shot overhead and hit a mark that moved, in the dark. That’s more than “fair” shooting.’

Daine shrugged again. ‘I practise a lot.’

Alanna grinned. ‘I’ll stop. I didn’t mean to interrogate you. I’ve been so busy getting Arram’s story out of him that I forgot I just wanted to say thanks. You saved my life, and the life of one of my best friends. Arram wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t nursed him. I’ll remember it.’

Daine swallowed. ‘It was no trouble—’

Alanna took her hand. ‘If you need anything, come to me. A place to stay, money, work – I don’t care. If I’m not around, go to my husband.’ Startled, Daine looked at Alanna’s ring finger and saw a wide silver band. ‘He’s the baron of Pirate’s Swoop. He’ll do anything for you I would.’

Daine gulped. A King’s Champion in debt to her? An offer with no limits, and she to apply to the lady or her baron husband? People like her had no business bothering the great and wealthy! And if Alanna knew the truth about her, about what she’d done once, she’d hate Daine. She’d have to.

The knight must have seen refusal in her face. ‘Promise me.’

Daine wondered if there was any way to get out of it. Alanna had the look of someone who wouldn’t let this go, however. ‘I promise, Lioness.’

‘Alanna,’ Onua called from the tent. ‘We need you for a minute.’

‘Coming,’ the knight replied. ‘By the way – can you wield a sword?’

‘Me? Gods, no!’ she said, shocked. A sword was a weapon for nobles!

The Lioness grinned. ‘I shouldn’t be glad, but I am.’ Seeing Daine’s puzzlement, she explained. ‘If you were as good with the sword as you are with a bow, I couldn’t take the competition.’ She clapped Daine on the shoulder and returned to her patient.

The next day everyone rose at first light, Onua and Daine from habit, the others from necessity. ‘You’re staying here?’ Alanna wanted to know.

Onua spooned porridge into a bowl and gave it to her. ‘Just for today – give Arram a little more time before we go west. How about you?’

‘I’ll see the local magistrate, now I have Arram’s information,’ Alanna explained, drizzling honey into her bowl. ‘Once I get a writ of arrest from him, Sinthya’s mine.’

‘So that’s why you were so near when I called for help,’ said Onua. ‘Springtime you’re usually at Pirate’s Swoop. You were waiting for Arram?’

Alanna nodded. ‘He has proof now that Sinthya is dealing with Carthak.’

Onua smiled grimly. ‘I knew it!’

The knight frowned. ‘I’m sending word to the king, to tell him about our visitors last night, and the Stormwings.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t understand why these immortals are reappearing now. We’ve had reports from all over Tortall, and from our neighbours as well. Also, I don’t like it that they were on hand to chase our friend when he escaped.’

‘You don’t think it was a coincidence?’ Onua asked. ‘Or does Sinthya have an arrangement with those – things?’

Daine winced. The idea of humans welcoming such creatures was chilling.

Alanna sighed. ‘I don’t know. That’s one of the questions I’ll ask His Lordship – when I arrest him. In the meantime, I leave you to your travels. Don’t let Arram overdo things. And it might be best if he kept from shape-shifting for a while, not that I think he’ll have the strength to try.’ The knight finished her breakfast and got to her feet. ‘Time to ride.’

With the consent of the man who tended Darkmoon, Daine brought the saddled horse to his mistress and held him as the Lioness mounted. This time the knight wore a leather jerkin studded with metal rings, instead of her mail. Seeing Daine look at it, she said, ‘I drew it from our spares. They always bring one in my size. It doesn’t look as nice as the mail, but it’s more comfortable.’ She offered Daine a gloved hand to shake. ‘I’ll see you again – if not at the palace, then later on. Take care of my friends, and take care of yourself.’

Daine returned the woman’s firm grip. ‘Safe journey, Lioness. Give that Sinthya man a few lumps for me.’

Alanna laughed. ‘I hope to do just that.’ She looked back: the men of the King’s Own were in the saddle. ‘Forward!’

Daine, in awe, watched them go. This was what she’d dreamed when Onua said they were going to Tortall. Well, some things are different, she thought as the riders retreated from view. Pulling the badger’s claw out of her shirt, she polished it with a thumb. She’s shorter than I expected. And I never thought she’d swear, or make jokes. She’s a legend, sure enough, but she’s so human.

An idea made her jaw drop: if she’s a legend, and a hero, then anyone could be a hero. Tucking the claw back into her shirt, she ran back to camp. If anyone might be a hero – could I? she asked herself, and smiled. No, not me.

Still, she mulled it over as she started on a pile of reins that needed mending. Onua joined her at their fire with leatherwork of her own. They worked quietly until she heard her friend say, ‘Look who’s up.’

Their patient stood in front of his tent. Someone – Daine assumed one of the men – had given him a shirt and breeches, as well as a pair of boots.

She stared up at him. He was five inches over six feet in height, with broad shoulders and a well-muscled body. His mass of coal black hair was combed back and tied into a horse tail to show a face that was dark and sensitive. He moved with the ease of a giant cat as he sat on a log beside Onua, but Daine suspected that he hadn’t always been so graceful. As a boy he must have resembled a stork, all elbows and knees. In his late twenties now, he had grown into his looks, and he seemed completely at home with himself.

‘How’d you find a pair that fits?’ Onua pointed at his feet with the awl she’d been using on her tack. ‘There’s tea in the kettle, and a clean mug right there.’

His lips parted to reveal white teeth in a shy smile. ‘Thanks.’ He poured and blew gently on his tea to cool it. ‘Alanna witched them so they’d fit.’ He regarded his boots with a wistful grin. ‘Nobody else had a pair even near big enough.’

‘What about your own magic?’ Onua asked.

‘I’m dry for the moment. Tapped out.’ His voice was midrange for a man’s, warm and a little hesitant – nice to listen to, Daine thought. She kept her eyes away from him as she wrestled with her leatherwork.

A pair of large hands came into her field of vision to hold the strap while she set the final stitches.

‘Thanks,’ she whispered, blushing.

‘You look different.’

Startled, she looked up into long, shadowy eyes. ‘What?’

He smiled. ‘You were a lot bigger.’

She grinned in spite of her shyness. ‘Seems to me you was a bit smaller, now I think of it.’

The strap was fixed. He gave it back and returned to his seat on the log. ‘I’d be dead if it weren’t for you. You’re called Daine?’

She nodded.

‘I’m glad to meet you, Daine. I’m Numair Salmalín.’

‘I thought it was Arram.’

His eyes flicked to Onua and back to her. ‘Arram’s my boyhood name. I go by Numair now.’

Daine took the hint. ‘The honour’s mine, Master Numair.’ Then, because she had to know, she asked, ‘Why didn’t you change back?’

‘I was stuck.’

‘Stuck?’

‘When Sinthya caught me, his mage fed me drugs. I panicked, and shape-shifted. I didn’t remember I was full of all the drugs it takes to knock out somebody my size.’

‘You’re lucky they didn’t kill you,’ Onua pointed out.

‘You’re right. By the time you found me, I couldn’t tell ground from air any more. The food you offered? I didn’t know it was food. Not that I was able to keep anything down.’ He sipped the tea. ‘It’ll be a long time before I take hawk shape again.’

‘That’s why you had funny eyes,’ breathed Daine. ‘And that’s why you made me dizzy.’

‘I wanted to ask you about that. Onua says you got sick, disoriented. I can’t understand how. She says you don’t have the Gift—’

‘Odd’s bobs!’ Daine snapped. Would all her new friends harp on that one thing, like Ma? ‘I don’t see why this Gift is so grand. It comes and goes. You can’t do too much at once, and you need all kinds of rules. It’s more trouble than it’s worth.’ She got up. ‘But whenever I turn round, somebody asks if I have it. I’m good with animals – isn’t that enough?’ Furious, not knowing there were tears on her cheeks, she stamped off into the woods.

Numair looked at Onua. ‘What did I say?’

The K’mir sighed and put down her work. ‘Her mother was a hedgewitch.’ (She meant someone with basic Gifts, taught by other hedgewitches, never hoping to be more than village healer-midwives.) ‘She and Daine’s grandfather were killed by raiders in January. She wanted Daine to have the Gift, not just whatever she has with animals. Fool woman kept testing her, as if she thought the girl would develop it overnight. I’d better go after her.’

‘No – when she cools off, I’ll go. You and Alanna were right. She has real power. Not the Gift, though.’ He tapped a pair of twigs together, looking thoughtful. ‘It’s wild magic, pure and simple. She’s brimming with it. I’ve never seen a human with so much.’

‘You felt it then.’

He smiled. ‘I felt it when I was a bird, half-crazy and dying.’

Onua sighed. ‘Be careful with her, Arram. She’s hurting.’

‘I will.’ He rose, unfolding his length with a groan. ‘Use Numair, will you? I know you trust Daine, but there’s no telling who else might overhear. I still have enemies in Carthak who’d like to know where I am.’

Onua made a face. ‘You’re right – Numair.’

He grinned. ‘Come on – what great sorcerer has a name like Arram Draper? I have to have a name to fit my calling, don’t you think?’

‘All mages are Players at heart, I swear. Can’t do magic unless you have all kinds of robes and props and a big audience to cheer you.’ She waved him off and returned to her work, smiling.

Numair found Daine greeting a woodchuck, and stayed in the trees to watch. The girl lay on the ground, her eyes on a level with the chuck’s. The animal stood on his hind legs, chattering to her. She giggled, then offered a hand: the chuck snuggled against it for a moment. Then he chirped a farewell and trotted off into the bush.

Numair came forward slowly. ‘He seemed to have a lot to say.’

Daine was thinking about the chuck, how nice he was after the monsters two nights before. ‘Oh, it’s the usual spring talk. Freshening up the burrow, getting nice-smelling leaves. I told him where to find some wild mint.’ Her memory returned, and she felt her cheeks get hot. ‘Master Numair, I—’

He smiled. ‘No offence taken – if you stop calling me “Master”. If I’m to help with the ponies the rest of the way, we may as well use first names.’

‘Is Onua cross with me? For losing my temper?’

He shook his head. The motion popped open the tie that held his black locks, and it fell. ‘Gods bless it …’

Daine came to help him look. By the time they found the tie, she’d forgotten to be nervous with him. ‘It’s easier if you wet it before using it on your hair,’ she explained as they returned to camp. ‘When it dries, then it shrinks.’

‘Good advice. Your hair gives you trouble?’

‘Oh, Goddess, my hair’s so dratted thick I don’t even bother with ties.’ She giggled suddenly. ‘This is a very strange talk we’re having.’

He grinned down at her. ‘Boys worry just as much about their looks as girls do. We only hide it better.’

‘Seriously?’ she asked, delighted. Living with only Grandda and Ma, away from the males of the village, she’d begun to think young men were totally alien.

‘Seriously,’ he assured her. ‘You should see the lotions I put on my hair to get it to behave.’ He winked at Onua when they reached the campfire.

Onua and Daine spent the next day exercising the ponies and practising hand-to-hand combat, something Onua said a woman alone should know. Numair dozed, mended his spare shirt, or did exercises with the arm that had been broken. ‘Is he up to the road?’ Daine asked during one of his naps. She kept her voice low – he was stretched out under a nearby tree. ‘He maybe should ride, but he’s too big for the ponies.’

‘We’ll take it easy,’ the K’mir replied. ‘Alanna laid a slow healing on him, to fix the arm and build his strength. She said in two or three days he’ll be fine.’

‘Did you know him, from before?’

‘We’re old friends.’ Seeing the look on Daine’s face, Onua said, ‘Not that kind of friend! He goes for shapely blondes, and I like a man that likes horses. No, our hawk took pity on me when I didn’t know anyone but the queen and Buri. If he likes you, he’s the best of friends. Horse Lords help you if you get on his bad side.’ Seeing that Daine looked puzzled, she explained, ‘He is the most powerful sorcerer in Tortall.’

Daine stared. A boyish man who talked hair-ties? Looking over, she saw a butterfly hovering over Numair’s long nose. ‘Him?’

Onua chuckled. ‘Yes, him. It takes a powerful Gift to shape-change.’

Numair opened his eyes. ‘You’re talking about me. I can tell.’

‘He’s vain, too,’ Onua said loudly. ‘He takes as much time to dress for court functions as any lady. Which is bad enough, but then he ruins his clothes sitting on the grass to watch meteor showers.’

‘But that’s my good side,’ protested Numair. ‘You really should tell her some of my faults.’ He paused, then added, ‘Then again – please don’t. I forgot you actually know my faults.’

Daine laughed. She could see the rest of the trip would be fun.

The adults were arguing about protective circles when she began to think of supper. It wasn’t fair to let Onua hunt all the time. Like her predator friends, Daine ate meat, taking care to make her kills swift and clean. Now she got hooks and line, and told the adults where she would be. There was a big tree on the riverbank where she could sit and mind her lines in comfort, and Onua had a very good way of preparing trout.

It wasn’t long before her lines were baited and set in the deep pool under the tree. With the hard part done, she watched the sky and daydreamed, rousing herself only to greet the animals who came to say hello. Cloud found a nearby patch of clover and grazed, keeping her company.

Tahoi joined them, looking disgusted. He lay down where Daine could easily scratch his ears. Onua and Numair were doing the sitting thing, not talking or working or paying attention to him. It bored him silly.

‘What’s the sitting thing?’ Daine asked.

The dog showed her an image in his mind: Onua, seated with her legs crossed, hands resting on her knees, eyes closed. To that picture he added Numair, doing the same thing. A shimmering, pearly light gleamed around each of them, rippling over their faces.

‘What’s that?’ Daine asked him. ‘That light, there?’

Tahoi didn’t know. It was a thing some humans had and others didn’t.

Magic, Cloud said. Your dam had it, and some of the others back home. Not so bright as these two – more like a glitter. But it’s magic, all right.

Onua only does the sitting thing with humans that have the light, Tahoi commented, and sighed.

The girl smiled. ‘Find a stick – I’ll play with you. Not here, though – I don’t want to scare the fish.’ Tahoi wagged his tail and hunted for a stick that wouldn’t hurt his mouth. ‘Cloud? Do I have the light inside?’

No, the mare replied. The light’s only for humans. You may look like a human, but you aren’t. You’re of the People: the folk of claw and fur, wing and scale.

‘Impossible,’ the girl said flatly. ‘Look at me. I’m pink, my fur’s patchy, I walk on two legs. I’m human, human all over.’

On the outside, the pony insisted. Not inside. Inside you’re People.

Tahoi brought a stick, and Daine went to play with him. Cloud was joking, of course. She was human. Ma would have told her if she weren’t.

They left their camp the next day. Onua set an easy pace, stopping twice in the morning to rest. Numair kept up without appearing to tire. Catching Daine’s eyes on him once, he thumped himself on the chest and said, ‘When the Lioness puts a healing on a man, he stays healed!’

‘Does your ma know you’re this silly?’ she demanded tartly.

He nodded, comically sad. ‘The few grey hairs she has on her head are my doing. But’ – with an exaggerated change of mood – ’I send her plenty of money, so she can pay to have them dyed!’

‘I hope she beat you as a child,’ Onua grumbled.

The day passed quickly. Numair and Onua told stories about the people they knew at the palace. The man even juggled for her, a most unmagelike feat. By the time they made camp, she felt she had known him for years.

Building their fire, she ran into trouble. No matter what she did with flint and steel, the wood was too damp to catch. At last she coaxed it into a tiny flame and held her breath.

‘How does it go?’ he asked over her shoulder, and the flame went out.

‘Gods bless it!’ she snapped.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Oh, they must’ve had rain here yesterday. Everything’s damp.’

‘Sit back.’

She did as she was told, and the tinder burst into flame. She had to put large sticks of wood on it fast, before the fire used up the tinder. ‘But you didn’t point, or make circles, or chant anything—’

He shrugged. ‘Some people need those things. I don’t.’

She gasped at his arrogance. ‘Well, excuse me for breathing!’

His laugh was full throated and made her grin. ‘What – did they have to enact fire-making rituals before anything would burn, where you came from?’

Her spirits dropped. ‘Things burned easy back home,’ she said flatly. ‘Real easy.’ She’d been having a good time while her family lay in the ground. Grabbing the shovel, she went to dig the latrine.

Teeth dug into the mage’s elbow, making him yelp. He looked down at his attacker, Cloud. ‘Stop that, or I’ll light a fire under your tail.’ The mare squeezed a little harder and released his arm.