Tamora Pierce - Wild Magic

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.