Robin Hobb - Renegade's Magic

Soldier’s Boy got slowly to his feet. His head still pounded with pain, and hunger squeezed him again. All the magic he’d acquired, he’d used in healing the worst of his injury. He sighed. “I go to regain my feeders. We will see you soon, at the Wintering Place. Travel well.”

“At the Wintering Place,” Jodoli confirmed. He reached out and took Firada’s hand. They walked away. I did not “see” the quick-walk magic, but in less than two blinks of my eye, they had vanished from my sight. When they were gone, Soldier’s Boy turned back to Lisana’s stump.

He walked over to it, knelt in the deep moss, and gravely examined the damage. There was not much; the fire had licked the outer bark, scorching it but had not penetrated it. He nodded, satisfied. He gripped the hilt of the rusty cavalla sword that was still thrust deep into the stump. Heedless of the unpleasant buzzing that the proximity of the metal blade woke in his hands, he tried to work it loose. To no avail. A nasty recognition stirred in my own thoughts. As a mage, I’d now experienced how unpleasant the touch of iron felt. Yet Lisana had never once reproached me for the blade I’d felled her with and then left sticking in her trunk. I felt shamed.

But Soldier’s Boy continued unaware of my thoughts or feelings. He pushed through growing underbrush to reach the young tree that reared up from Lisana’s fallen trunk. He set his hands to its smooth bark and leaned his head back to smile up at its branches. “We must thank our luck that she did not know this is where you are truly most vulnerable. This little one would not have survived such a scorching as your trunk took. Look how she seeks the sun. Look how straight she stands.” He leaned forward, to rest his brow briefly against the young tree’s bark. “I really, really miss your guidance,” he said softly.

Behind us, Lisana spoke. “I miss you, too, Soldier’s Boy.”

I knew he could not hear her. She knew it, too, and I heard the isolation in her voice, that her words to him must go unheard. It was for her rather than for him that I said, “She misses you, too.”

Soldier’s Boy caught a breath. “Tell her that I love her still. Tell her I miss her every day. There is not a moment that goes by when I do not remember all that she taught me. I will be true to what she taught me when I go to the Wintering Place. This I promise. Tell her that. Please, tell her that for me!”

He was looking at her little tree. I wanted him to turn and look at the cut trunk, where Lisana still manifested most strongly for me. But it was not easy to make him hear me, and I did not want to waste the effort. “She hears you when you speak. She cannot make you hear her replies, but what you say aloud, she hears.”

Again, he halted, turning his head like a dog that hears a far-off whistle. Then he slowly reached out to the little tree and drew a finger down its trunk. “I’m glad you can hear me,” he said softly. “I’m glad we at least have that.”

I heard Lisana sob. I wished I could have met her eyes. “She’s by the stump,” I said, but my strength was fading.

Lisana spoke to me again. “Please. Tell him to walk down the line of my fallen trunk. Near the end, another small tree has begun. Tell him that it is for him, when the time comes. I’m preparing a tree for him. Please tell him.”

“Look for another little tree, near the end of her fallen trunk,” I said. I pushed the words as hard as I could. But he did not hear me. After a pause, he spoke aloud to her. “I’m tired, Lisana. Tired and hungry and empty of magic. I need to find sustenance. And as soon as I can, I must leave for the Wintering Place. I haven’t forgotten what you told me. Believe me. What you taught me, I will live.” He was very still, as if listening for me or for Lisana, but after a time he closed his eyes, puffed his cheeks, and turned away from the little tree.

He started to follow the fading trail that led back down the ridge and eventually into a valley where a small stream flowed. Weariness dragged at us. He muttered as we walked, and after a time, I realized he was speaking to me. I listened more closely to his rambling words. “You used it all. Did you hate us that much or were you just stupid? I saved that magic, hoarded it all thinking that I might get one chance. And now it’s all gone. Gone. You always complained to everyone who would listen that I’d stolen your beautiful wonderful future. Is that why you destroyed mine? Was it vengeance? Or stupidity?”

I had no way of responding. I was little more than a spark inside him now, clinging desperately to my self-awareness. The idea of letting go came to me. I shook myself free of it. What would happen to me if I did? Would I cease to be entirely, or would all my ideas, thoughts, and knowledge suddenly be merged with Soldier’s Boy? Would he consume me as I had tried to consume him? If he integrated me into his being, would I have any awareness of it? Would I live on only as odd bits of dreams that sometimes haunted the Speck mage I would become?

The thought of merging my awareness with Soldier’s Boy and becoming merely a part of him held no appeal for me. Instead it filled me with loathing, and I struggled against it. “I am Nevare Burvelle,” I told myself. “Soldier son of a new noble lord. Destined to be a cavalla officer, to serve my king with courage, to distinguish myself on a field of battle. I will prevail. I will keep faith with Epiny and I will prevail.” I would not become a set of disconnected memories inside some hulking forest mage. I would not.

And so I wearily clung to my identity and did little more than that for the next two days. I was an observer as Soldier’s Boy hiked wearily down to the stream. He found Likari dozing on the shady bank while Olikea scavenged in the shallows for a grayish-brown leggy creature that looked more like an insect than a fish to me. As she caught each one, she popped its head off with her thumbnail and then added it to the catch heaped on a lily leaf on the stream bank. The animals were small; two would fill her palm. She already had a small fire burning. As Soldier’s Boy approached, he greeted her with “It is good that you are already finding food for me.”

She didn’t look up from her hunting. “I already know what you are going to say. That you have used up what magic you had, and we must stay another night here. Did you kill her?”

“No. I let her go. She is no threat to us. And you are right that we must stay here, not one night, but three. I have decided that before I travel, I will rebuild some of my reserves. I will not be the Great Man I was when we rejoin the People, but I will not be this skeleton, either. I will eat for three days. And then we will quick-walk to the people.”

“By then almost everyone will have returned to the Wintering Place! The best trading will be done, and all that will be left there are the things that are not quite perfect or have no newness to them!”

“There will be other trading days in years to come. You will have to miss this one.”

Olikea filled her cheeks and then puffed the air out explosively. She had caught two more of the creatures, and she flung them down on those already heaped on the stream bank so hard that I heard the crack of their small shells as they hit. She was not pleased, and I was dimly surprised by how easily Soldier’s Boy dismissed her feelings on the matter.

She looked at him at last and surprise almost overcame her sullen glance. “What happened to your forehead?”

“Never mind that,” he said brusquely. “We need food. Busy yourself with that.” With his foot, he stirred the sleeping Likari. “Up, boy. Gather food. Lots of it. I need to fill myself.”

Likari sat up, blinking, and knuckled his eyes. “What sort of food, Great One?”