Tamora Pierce - Wild Magic

‘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.’