Mercedes Lackey - Alta

“I can imagine,” Kiron said grimly and, in fact, he could. Although he had never been on the receiving end of such treatment, in no small part because anyone who wanted to intimidate him was usually perfectly free to beat him bloody, he had seen that sort of thing at work. “Lovely pots you have. It would be a shame if they were to all be smashed because you didn’t have someone around to keep an eye on them for you.” “The Headman of the village would really like this favor. You wouldn’t want to disappoint him.” “You know that people have gotten into trouble over less.” “Such a problem your son is—all it would take is one more complaint and who knows what would happen to him—” Oh, yes, he knew the silky tone, the innocent stare, the knife hidden beneath the cloth, the threat that was never implied in such a way that it was obvious to anyone except the one who was threatened.

“Anyway, you had warned Father already, and I was already hiding in the servants’ quarters. And as soon as he was sure that they were gone, his friend smuggled me here.” She sniffed. “I’m supposed to be learning how to Heal dragons. Actually, I am. I thought as long as I was here, I might just as well do it.”

He smiled at her, feeling that a pat on the head or her back would not be accepted well at the moment, and anything—well—warmer—might lead somewhere he wasn’t yet sure he wanted to go. “Good for you! And that gives me every excuse to come visit you!”

She brightened at that. “It does, doesn’t it! That’s been the worst of it, it’s so lonely —”

“We’ll just wait until the Magi have given up on you ever coming back,” he told her soothingly. “Then maybe we can bring you back as you and we can say that your Gifts have all gone. Could the Magi tell if your Gifts were gone?”

She frowned. “Probably not. The other Winged Ones could, but—but maybe I could hide them.” Then she looked as if she was going to burst into tears again. “Oh, this isn’t fair! I’ve trained so hard to develop my Gifts, and now—”

“I didn’t say not to use them” he pointed out. “Just don’t let the Magi know you still have them.” He scratched his head in thought. “You know, you could say that your aunt taught you to Heal animals, and we can bring you in to help with the dragons. The Magi almost never come around the dragons; I don’t think they like them, much. How does that strike you?”

She sighed. “I suppose this must be my ordeal,” she said, sadly. “It certainly feels like an ordeal. And the gods send every Winged One a different sort.”

“Then there you are, that’s probably exactly what it is,” he agreed, deciding that patting her hands would probably be all right. “Uh—do you think the Magi had any idea that your father was lying?”

To his relief, she shook her head. “They haven’t got that sort of power,” she said firmly. “I’d know. I think that’s one reason why they need us. And when he wants to be, Father is very good at lying.”

For her sake, he hoped so.

He stayed with her as long as he could without interfering with his own duties, and when he left, she was more of her old animated self, determined to make the best of her “ordeal” by learning all she could about dragons and the things that could hurt them or make them sick. She had admitted to him that at this point, there really wasn’t anything that any of the senior Winged Ones could teach her about the Gifts that the gods had given her; she had been told in confidence that she was not only the strongest Animal Speaker there was, but was likely to be the most accurate Far-Seeing Eye of her generation, and that what she needed more than anything was practice.

“I can practice here as well as anywhere else,” she said after a while. “Maybe better. I can always help those who Heal animals by finding out what the animals are feeling.”

He had encouraged her to follow that path; the more she had to occupy her mind, the less lonely she would be. Aket-ten didn’t have the same knack for making friends that Orest did, but she was always willing and eager to help, and he didn’t think it would be very long before the Healers were protecting her for her own self and not as a favor to her father.

But there were a great many uncomfortable thoughts that occurred to him as he trudged through the rain, going back across the bridge to the Jousters’ Compound on the Third Ring.

If, as he thought, the Magi were burning out the Fledglings’ Gifts with their ruthless exploitation of their powers, that explained in part why they were so interested in getting Aket-ten back into their hands. First, she probably represented a great deal of raw strength for their spells. Second, and this might be the most important of the two reasons, they had every reason to want to burn her out.

He had, perforce, been learning more about the political structure of Alta lately. It would have been difficult not to, with a prince and the most likely successor to the current Great Ones as one of his trainees. Things just came out in conversation, and the one thing that had struck him more than anything else was that the Magi had become very, very powerful in this land. All but one of the advisory positions that had once been held by Priests were now held by Magi.

It seemed likely to him that the last thing they wanted was for someone who had been Gifted with reliable visions of the future to become a full Winged One—for that someone would be able to advise the Great Ones with no consideration for anything other than what he—or she—Saw. That would take a fair chunk of power out of their hands, and leave them vulnerable to contradiction in Council whenever there were things they wanted done, actions they wanted taken, that might be contrary to what was really best for Alta. Nor was it particularly in their interest to have someone who could See what was going on in Tia and on the border reporting directly to the Great Ones—not when the Magi wanted reports of how their spells were decimating the enemy where it hurt him most, whether or not those reports were true. The very last thing they wanted was someone who could say, definitively, that what the Magi were doing was mostly affecting the lot of poor farmers who had very little to do with the war.

No, that was not something that would make them very happy. He wished that he had someone he could confide in and ask advice of. . . .

Frankly, he wished that Ari was around.

But that’s not possible, he reminded himself. It’s time to start thinking on your own.

Well, there was one thing that he could do. He could start educating himself thoroughly on the intricate details of how things were run in Alta—how much power the Magi had, say, and how much the Great Ones were likely to let them get away with.

And he had just the person to help him with that—

Prince Toreth.

Provided, of course, he could do so without betraying his feelings on the subject. But then again, he had a lot of practice in hiding his feelings. With luck, all that practice would stand him in good stead now.

On the other hand, Toreth has never shown any sign of being fond of the Magi, he reminded himself. I wonder if it’s possible that I’ll find an ally there?

“The Magi—” Kiron began, in as casual a tone as he could manage.

Toreth was in the middle of turning his egg; Kiron was in the pen with him on the pretense of overseeing him.

“Just what are they, anyway?” he continued, as Toreth finished the quarter turn. “Besides the people who created the Eye, I mean?”

Toreth settled his egg back into the sand, covered all but the very top with hot sand, and gave him an opaque look. “Why are you so curious about the Magi?”