Renegade's Magic

“So. What will happen now?”



She sighed, light as wind in the leaves. “Eventually, Olikea or Likari will come back and help you. Or you’ll wriggle free on your own. And then you must eat heartily, and quick-walk to join the People at the Wintering Place.”



“I didn’t mean it that way. I meant, what will become of Epiny and Spink? What will happen to them?”



She sighed again. “Let go of that life, Nevare. Embrace the one you are in now. Join the sundered halves of your soul and become one.”



That hadn’t been what I was asking her. “Will you try to harm Epiny?” I asked her directly.



“Hmf. Did she try to harm me? A few more minutes of that fire, and we would not be having this conversation now. I’ve told you before, I cannot control the magic or what it does.” A pause. Then her voice was gentler. “But for whatever peace it gives you, I’ll tell you that I will not be attempting any revenge on her.” She made an odd sound that might almost have been a laugh. “The less I have to do with your cousin, the better for both of us, I think.”



“Thank you.”



Olikea did not come to find me. Jodoli did, stumping up the ridge with a scolding Firada in his wake. He, too, had heard the summons of the whispering leaves, but he had been farther away and Firada had not wanted him to quick-walk them to Lisana, thinking it better that Soldier’s Boy handle whatever the difficulty was with the Gernian madwoman on his own. Firada was not pleased with Jodoli consuming energy to rescue me yet again. She grumbled about it the whole time that he was untying me.



“What happened here?” Jodoli asked as soon as the gag was removed from my mouth.



“Nevare’s cousin Epiny attacked Lisana. But do not concern yourself with it. The threat has been dealt with. I’m sorry that I used more of your time.”



“You call this dealing with a threat?” Firada asked tartly. “We find you bound and gagged, and your feeders nowhere in sight!”



“I sent them away, to keep them safe. It is dealt with. Let it go.”



He spoke in a commanding way that I expected her to find offensive. Instead she just puffed her cheeks and then settled in abrupt silence. Soldier’s Boy turned to Jodoli. His face was equally disapproving, but I suspected that some sign from him had quieted Firada.



“Jodoli, I thank you for coming yet again to my aid. Please, do not delay your journey to rejoin the People any longer. I will need another day here to gather strength before I am able to do any magic. But do not linger here on my account.”



“We have no intention of doing so,” Firada responded quickly.



Jodoli’s words were more measured. “Indeed, we must depart tonight. But I wanted to let you know that I went to look at what you did to the intruders’ road. I think you bought us a season of respite, and perhaps more. It is not a permanent solution. Nonetheless, I do not think you used your magic in vain. Firada is correct that I must rejoin our kin-clan tonight; they are unprotected when I am not with them. I hope you will hurry to rejoin us as quickly as you can.” He glanced about, his eyes lingering on Tree Woman’s scorched trunk.



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.