Thestian studied Diato’s face for a few moments. “What do you suggest is the appropriate course of action?”
“Interception.” Diato did not even hesitate before answering. “I could round up some of my men and ride out tonight. We could intercept them within a week.”
Thestian sighed heavily. “It seems there is no other choice. Round up your men. Leave in the morning.” Diato bowed respectfully before leaving the wizard to do as he was bid.
–
“Damned changelings. They are taking over everything,” Arneld growled, slamming his large hand down on the table. His brown eyes were filled with cold hatred. “A man can’t get a decent job anymore. It’s all changelings or worse, half beasts.”
“Arneld, not in front of our son,” Marjorie warned softly but Arneld’s head snapped around so he could stare at his young son. The boy stared at his father with wide eyes, having never seen him so angry in all his eight years.
“The sooner he learns the way of things the better off he’ll be,” Arneld argued. “It’s better he gets the truth about magic before it’s too late.”
“No, we always said we would not teach him to hate.” Marjorie placed a gentle hand on Arneld’s shoulder. “It will upset him.”
“Men are tainted if they have magic. It’s the truth. We are the only things pure of magic anymore. I am through with any who do have magic.” Arneld’s hand clenched, his knuckles whitened. “I was the best man for that job. I can do the work. That damned changeling transformed himself into a mule and did it in the half the time.”
“Arneld…” Marjorie tried to stop him again.
“No! My son will not grow up thinking it is acceptable to let those freaks take what is his. I won’t have it. A changeling is no friend. I know that and now he will too. Boltic was my friend and he stabbed me in the back. Pulled that job right out of my hands, knowing my family needs to be fed.”
“Boltic’s family has suffered too,” Marjorie said.
“That was my job! He wouldn’t have even known about it if I hadn’t told him! They aren’t welcomed in this house ever again. Don’t let the boy go playing with their son anymore. No changeling will ever set foot on this land as long as I live here!”
“But, Egle is my friend,” A tiny voice dared to whisper from the small chair at the table.
“And you will not be my son if you go against my wishes, boy! I’ll beat the breath from you and put you out if I ever catch you taking up with a changeling. They are tainted and evil! All magic is evil!” Arneld’s words brought tears to the boy’s eyes. He’d never threatened violence against his son before.
“Egle is not evil.”
“I say that he is!” Arneld bellowed and the boy grew silent.
“Arneld! He’s only eight.” Marjorie cried. Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked down at the deflated expression on her son’s face. Arneld stared at her, then rose and stormed into the back room. He slammed the door behind him so forcefully that the walls of the cottage vibrated.
Marjorie sighed, looking at her son. “Don’t you listen to him. Egle is your friend. He can always be your friend.”
“Father says that magic is evil.” The boy’s lips quivered.
Marjorie looked toward the door her husband just disappeared behind. She knelt beside the boy’s chair, lowering her voice. “You aren’t evil. We just won’t tell him about the things you can do. He never has to know. It will be our secret. Will that be alright?” She smiled when he nodded and leaned forward to press her lips against his forehead. “Egle is still your friend. Neither of you are evil. You are my special little boy. My very special little boy.”
“Father will hate me now.”
Marjorie closed her eyes and kissed his forehead again. “No. Your Father just hates the life he has.”
The boy said nothing for several minutes then threw his arms around his mother. “I love you. I always love you.”
Marjorie smiled. “And I love you too, Ronan. Forever.”
Ronan woke with a start, eyes wide and a large lump in his throat. A dream. But it had been so real, as if he stepped right into the memory. The image of his father had been clear.
He rubbed a hand over his face and sat up. As he stood, he was careful not to stir any that slept around him. He stepped over them carefully and from the cave into the night air.
Three deep breaths that pulled the chill into his lungs and still he felt no better than before. He’d hated his father’s bigotry. It had driven a wedge between them that had never been mended. But as long as he kept the truth of what he could do a secret there was peace.
Now his secret was out. Fiona had said the words he’d always feared to hear. You are a wizard. He’d hid from that fact, tucked that part of him away. He’d stopped playing with the gifts he knew he had as teenager but he’d sworn to himself that he would never slight someone for being different than him, or the same.
“Ronan?” Ula’s voice found him, drew him from his thoughts. He didn’t look back at her as she shuffled forward to his side.
“You should rest while you have the chance,” he told her.
“What about you?” Ula touched his arm. He felt her shiver and reached back, draping his arm over her thin shoulders, offering her a bit of warmth.
“I needed some air.” He glanced down at her worried expression. “Too many bodies cramped into such a tight space.” The moon cast a ghostly glow on her face and when she smiled, her wrinkles dug dark shadows into her skin.
“You did not think it was cramped earlier.” She was teasing him and he gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Just be cautious. Someone is not…”
“What they seem,” he finished and nodded. “Yes, I believe you’ve mentioned that.”
“I have another feeling,” she said after some hesitation. He looked down at her again.
“What is it?”
“Something is coming. Something dangerous.” Her voice trembled.
Ronan’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“I don’t know. I think it means to kill you.” Ula’s hand eased around his waist and hugged.
“For the sword.” Ronan sighed heavily, dropping a hand to the sheath on his belt.
“I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I. I’ve seen enough trouble that I do not welcome any more.” Ronan frowned. They both grew silent and Ronan glanced around at the night. Nothing stirred. It was as peaceful in moonlight as it had been beneath the sun.
“I am a wizard.” He hadn’t expected the words that formed on his own tongue. Ula didn’t gasp or try to pull away from him.
“I know.”
“How do you know?” he demanded, looking at her black eyes.
“You stilled the waters of River Blanch.” She shrugged beneath his arm. “Unless a person is dimwitted, they know only a wizard could control another source of magic like that.”
Ronan felt stupid. “I’ve not used any kind of magic since I was a boy. My father disapproved of any kind of person who had it and my mother wished to keep it a secret, to keep peace.”
“They are dead now,” Ula said and Ronan winced. “The pain is still raw?”
“Not because of him. But my mother…it is unimportant.” Ronan bowed his head. “That’s not true. I could have saved her if I had used what I knew I had in me.” Ula gave him another squeeze and Ronan took a breath.
“I know nothing of this magic business. I decided the day my mother died that if I couldn’t use it to save her,
