The Last of the Wilds

The wrinkles appeared. “Of course,” he replied. “Now, with all these suggestions to take care of, I have a lot of work to do. Go back to Teiti now.”

She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, then slipped off his knee and walked back to Teiti. Her aunt smiled, took her hand, and led her out of the room.

In the stream outside stood a large group of traders. She heard them muttering among themselves as she passed.

“... waiting for three days!”

“It has been in my family for three generations. They can’t...”

“... never seen such large sea bells. Big as fists!”

Sea bells? Imi slowed and pretended to brush something from her clothes.

“The landwalkers have discovered them, though. They guard them well.”

“Could we arrange a distraction? Then we...”

The conversation became too quiet to hear as she moved away. Her heart was beating fast. Sea bells as big as fists? Her father loved sea bells. Could she ask one of these traders to get one for her? She frowned. It sounded like they were planning one big trip to gather lots of bells. When they did, bells the size of fists would be on sale everywhere. They’d be common and boring.

Unless I get someone to sneak in and grab one for me before the traders get there. She smiled. Yes! I just need to find out where these sea bells are.

Which would be easy. Tonight she would make a trip to the pipe room.

:Auraya, are you coming? Juran asked.

Auraya jumped at the voice in her mind. She dropped the scroll she had been reading - a fascinating account of a sailor who had been rescued from drowning by one of the sea people - and leapt out of her seat. Her sudden movement startled her veez. He gave a squawk, ran up the back of the chair he’d been sleeping on and scampered up the wall.

“I’m sorry, Mischief,” she said, moving to the wall and stretching a hand out to him. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

He stared at her accusingly, feet splayed firmly against the wall. “Owaya scare. Owaya bad.”

“I’m sorry. Come down so I can scratch you.”

He remained just out of reach, his whiskers now quivering in the way they did when he was living up to his name.

:Owaya chase Msstf, a tiny voice said in her mind. She shook her head.

“No, Mischief. I—”

:Auraya? Juran called.

:Yes. I’m coming. Where are you?

:At the base of the Tower.

:I’ll be right there.

She sighed and left Mischief clinging to the wall. Setting a goblet on the edge of the scroll to stop it blowing off the table, she moved to the window, unlatched the pane and pushed it open.

An awareness of the world came to her as she concentrated. She somehow knew where she was in relation to the ground below, and the land and sky around her. Drawing magic to herself, she willed herself to change position slightly. A little higher, then outward. In a moment she was floating beside the window, nothing but air below her feet. Shifting her position again, she turned around and shut the window.

Below her lay the grounds of the Temple. Floating as she was, it almost looked as though one of her feet was standing on the round roof of the Dome, and the other on the hexagonal building known as the Five Houses where the priesthood was housed. Aside from the White Tower behind her, the rest of the Temple grounds were carefully tended gardens shaped into a pattern of circles - the circle being the symbol of the gods. Ahead and to her right she could see a thread of reflected sky where one of the many rivers of Jarime made its way toward the sea.

She willed herself to descend. When she moved like this, it did not resemble flying at all. She called it flying only because she could not think of another simple term to sum up what she was doing. “Moving in relation to the world” was a bit long-winded.

In addition to her awareness of the world was a new awareness of the magic in it. During the last moments of the battle, when she had gathered more magic to herself than ever before, she had become aware of magic in a way she had never been before. If she concentrated, she could sense it all around her.

Both Circlians and Dreamweavers agreed that the world was imbued with magic. All living things could draw in some of that magic and channel it out into the physical world. The uses it was put to were called Gifts and had to be learned, just as any physical skill must be learned. Most living things, including people, could draw only a little magic, and so had limited Gifts. Some, however, were stronger and more talented. If human, they were known as sorcerers.

I was an unusually powerful sorceress even before the gods enhanced my powers to make me a White, she reminded herself, looking down at the ring on her finger. I wonder what sort of life I’d have lived in the days before Circlian priests and priestesses.

She liked to think that she would have used her Gifts to help people, that she would not have become corrupt and cruel, like so many powerful sorcerers in the past. Sorcerers like the Wilds, who while powerful enough to achieve immortality had been more inclined to abuse their power and positions of authority.

Perhaps humans were not meant to wield that much power. Perhaps having physical form made them vulnerable. The true gods were not corrupt. They had no physical form, but were beings of pure magic that existed in the magic that imbued everything.

Auraya jolted to a halt.

I can sense that magic. Does that mean I will be able to sense them?

The possibility was both exciting and disturbing. She looked down. The ground was not far away. Descending again, she dropped until she was level with the top of the Tower entrance, then slowed to make a gentle landing.

Looking through the arches, she found the other White standing in the hall. Mairae saw her and smiled. At once the other White followed Mairae’s gaze. Juran’s expression softened as he saw Auraya. He started toward her and the others followed.

“Have you been taking a little early morning jaunt around the Tower?” he asked, indicating she should walk beside him as they started toward the Dome.

“No,” Auraya replied. “I must confess, I forgot the time.”

“You forgot?” Mairae exclaimed. “Your one-year anniversary?”

“Not that,” Auraya said, chuckling. “Just the time. Danjin brought me a fascinating scroll to read on the Elai.” She looked at Juran. “Will I be going back there to make a second offer of alliance?”

Juran smiled. “We’ll discuss it at the Altar.”

The priests and priestesses standing or walking about the Tower and Dome paused to watch them. Auraya had grown used to their stares of curiosity and admiration. She had learned to accept them as part of her role and was no longer embarrassed.

Does that make me vain and spoiled? she wondered. This is no easy task. I work hard, and not for my benefit. I serve the gods, like them, but I happen to be more Gifted and good at what I do. And I am still capable of mistakes. Leiard’s face flashed into her mind and the usual pang of hurt followed. She pushed both away firmly.

They walked under one of the wide arches of the Dome, out of the gentle morning sunlight. The darkness inside took form as Auraya’s eyes adjusted. In the center of the huge structure, upon a dais, stood the Altar.

The five triangular walls of tile structure were folding down to the floor like an opening flower. Juran stepped onto one and strode up to the center, where a table and five chairs waited. The others followed. As they took their seats, the walls slowly hinged upward to meet above them, sealing them in what was now a five-sided room.

Auraya looked at each of her fellow White. Juran was taking a deep bream, preparing to speak the ritual words. Dyara sat calmly. Rian was frowning; he hadn’t looked happy since the war. Mairae’s arms were crossed