Magic Study - Study 2

faded as the ground returned.

“You have found five souls already,” Moon Man said.

“But they weren’t—”

“Dead?”

I nodded.

“Do you know what a Soulfinder is?” he asked.

“They wake the dead?” When he raised an eyebrow without commenting, I said, “No, I don’t.”

“You need to learn.”

“And telling me would be too easy. Right? Takes all the fun out of being a mysterious Story Weaver.”

He grinned. “What about my bargain? Childhood memories for your help with Leif.”

Just hearing his name sent waves of anger through my body. My reasons for coming to Sitia had been so simple. First for survival, fleeing the Commander’s order of execution. Second had been to learn how to use my magic and meet my family. Perhaps along the way I might develop a kinship with this southern world. Or perhaps not.

My plans had seemed straightforward, then my road kept dipping and turning and I kept getting caught in its traps. Now I felt mired in mud in the middle of nowhere. Lost.

“Your path is clear,” said Moon Man. “You need to find it.”

And the best way to find something you had lost was to return to the last place you remembered having it. In my case, I needed to start at the very beginning.

“I promise to try to help Leif,” I said.

Smells and softness flooded my mind as memories of my childhood came to life. Apple Berry perfume mixed with the musky scent of earth. Laughter and the pure joy of swinging through the air followed an argument with Leif over the last mango. Playing hide-and-seek with Leif and Nutty, crouching on branches to ambush Nutty’s brothers during a mock battle. The sharp sting of hazelnuts on my bare arms as her brothers discovered our hiding spot, launching an attack. The slap of mud as our clan leader dug a grave for my grandfather. The sound of my mother’s soothing voice as she sang me a lullaby. The lessons with Esau on different species of leaves and their medicinal properties.

All the happiness, sadness, pain, fear and thrills of childhood came rushing back. I knew some would fade with time, but others would stay with me forever.

“Thank you,” I said.

Story Weaver inclined his head. He held out a hand and I grasped it. The dark plain faded and shapes grew from the ground. Colors returned as the sun’s first light crested the horizon.

I blinked, trying to orient myself. The clearing where I had left Kiki and Leif had changed. Large circular tents ringed a huge fire pit. Brown animal shapes had been painted on the white canvas of the tents. Dark-skinned people milled about the roaring fire. Some cooked while others tended children. Some wore clothes while others wore nothing. The clothes were all made of white cotton. The women wore either sleeveless dresses that reached to their knees or a tunic and short pants like the men.

Near the fire, Irys and Cahil sat cross-legged with two older men and a woman. They were intent on their discussion and didn’t see me. I couldn’t spot Leif or his horse, but Kiki stood next to one of the tents. A woman wearing short pants groomed her. Her brown hair bobbed to her neck.

I jumped when I realized Moon Man no longer stood beside me. In fact, I couldn’t see him anywhere in the small village. Perhaps he’d gone into one of the tents.

Not wanting to interrupt Irys, I checked on Kiki. She whickered at me in greeting. The woman stopped brushing the dust off her coat. She studied me in silence.

Who’s this? I asked Kiki.

Mother.

“Is this your horse?” the woman asked. The inflection in her voice rose and fell with each word, and there was a slight pause between them.

I reviewed Irys’s lecture about the Sandseeds from the night before. The woman had spoken first so I guessed it would be all right to answer her. “I’m hers.”

She snorted a short laugh through her nose. “I raised her, taught her and sent her on her journey. It’s a pleasure to see her again.” She kicked at her saddle on the ground. “She doesn’t need this. She will float under you like a gust of wind.”

“That’s for me.” And for our supplies.

Another huff of amusement. She finished brushing her. Kiki turned her blue eyes toward her and understanding flashed on the woman’s face. She whooped and jumped up on Kiki’s back.

Have fun, I told Kiki as she raced through the tall grass.

“Is that wise?” Cahil asked. He watched Kiki disappear over a hill. “What if that woman doesn’t come back?”

“I don’t care if she comes back or not.” I shrugged, looking past Cahil. Irys and the three Sandseeds stood next to the fire. They were still in deep conversation. One of the men gestured in what appeared to be anger.

“You don’t care if she steals Kiki?”

Instead of trying to educate Cahil on my relationship with Kiki, I searched his face. Tension had pulled his eyes into an intent expression. His gaze darted around the campsite as if he expected to be attacked.

“What’s been going on?” I asked him, tilting my head toward Irys.

“Last night, we made camp and waited for you and Leif. I worried when you failed to catch up, but Irys seemed amused. Then this group of Sandseeds arrived at our site. These are the clan leaders. They travel from village to village, settling disputes, bringing news and goods. It’s very convenient that they found us. I think they’re hiding something.”

Cahil’s frown reminded me of my brother. “Where’s Leif?”

Worry lined his face. “They said he went back to the Keep. Why would he do that?”

Because he, too, felt afraid. But, I said, “He probably wanted to get the red soil samples to Bain.”

Cahil appeared unconvinced. Before I could ask more questions, Irys ended her conversation and moved to join us.

“They’re upset,” she said.

“Why?” I asked.

“They think we’re accusing them of giving the Curare to Tula’s attacker. And Cahil’s attempts to recruit them to his cause have inflamed them.” Irys scowled at Cahil. “I thought you wanted to come along so you could see another part of our culture. Your selfish obsession to raise an army has jeopardized our mission.”

Cahil didn’t look remorseful. “I wouldn’t have to raise an army if the Council supported me. You—”

“Silence!” Irys sliced her hand through the air and I felt a brush of magic.

Bright red blotches grew on Cahil’s cheeks as he tried to speak.

“Despite all my diplomatic training, I can’t get them to tell me anything. Cahil has offended them. They will now talk only to you, Yelena.”

“Should we plan our escape route now?” I asked.

She laughed. “We’ll push Cahil into their path to slow them down.”

Cahil shot Irys a venomous glare.

“You have a slight advantage, Yelena,” she said. “I might be a Master Magician and member of the Council, but you’re a blood relative. In their eyes, a relative is more important than a Master.” Irys shook her head in frustration.

“Relative?” I asked.

“About five hundred years ago a group of Sandseeds decided to move into the jungle. The Sandseeds are wanderers by nature, and there have been many groups that have broken from the main clan to find their own way. Most don’t stay in communication with the main clan, but some, like the Zaltanas, do. Just try and discover some information without implying that these Sandseeds are involved. Choose your words carefully.”

Irys must have read the skepticism on my face because she added, “Consider it your first lesson in diplomacy.”

“Seeing how well you did with them, I’m surprised that I don’t feel more confident.”