Iduna (11 page)

Kai was shocked. He had never seen such dire consequences from the misuse of their power over emotions. The Okeeno had firm guidelines in this area. There were things you did and things you didn't do. He was torn. He knew these people. He couldn’t just leave them like this. He couldn’t.

He made his way between the crowded tables, grabbing Iduna's upper arm to bring her with him. Stepping up to the platform where the fiddler was playing, he started to sing with his deep, compelling voice.

Bow low the long sweet struggle,

the man tired and drawn.

He worked to save his family

from sunset to dawn.

Fishing in dark waters,

catching the evening tide,

he knew that everything was good,

his son hauling net by his side.

Oh, work is long but happy,

when someone is by your side.

He went on singing rhyming stanzas of the joys of camaraderie, the tempo increasing gradually with the fiddler shifting her tune to accompany Kai.

Surveying the crowd between words, Kai could see some feet tapping here and there. He needed more. It was risky, but he had to try. Reaching down, he pulled Iduna up to the dais, never breaking from singing his song. He gave her a warning look while gesturing for her to sing with him.

She didn’t jumped in haltingly to the chorus, adding her alto voice to his. It was working. The crowd was lifting up, he could feel it. Then the mood began to sour. Iduna’s voice started to play on the low minor-key side of Kai's melody, expressing sadness in the words.

The results were disastrous. The fiddler followed her lead, and tears rolled down a few cheeks as they swung from a peak of happiness to abject despair.

Seeing what was happening, and fearing an escalation beyond and worse than the state they had walked into, Kai grabbed Iduna, spun her to face him, and clasped her hands in his. Swinging their arms in time, Kai pulled every ounce of joy he had into his eyes and voice, physically transmitting it to Iduna through the movement of their arms.

The mood improved, and a large smile spread across Iduna's face as she sang. A few people rose to their feet and began clapping in time.

They sang on. Kai took to twirling Iduna in between choruses, or she stomped and clapped. Her cheeks were flushed and her blue eyes sparkled. He could barely tear his eyes from her. She was enchanting. When the song came to a rousing close, Iduna stood facing the crowd, panting and smiling, clutching Kai's hand.

The people clapped and cheered. Then the clapping slowed. As the good cheer waned rapidly, the people in the audience seemed to crash as if they were puppets and someone had cut their strings, falling to their seats in exhaustion—spent.

The red-bearded man in the center looked lost, like he was trying to remember something. His eyes went from twinkling green to murky moss. Not knowing what he'd forgotten seemed to agitate him, then he gave up.

Before long, the whole room was back to its melancholy stillness.

Astounded and resources exhausted, Kai stood looking at the group with new eyes. This time he knew there was no simple solution. He had just done his best, or, according to Okeeno rules, his worst. Heck, manipulating a large group of people with the Okeeno power was more than frowned upon by his people. He would have to answer for what he'd done, though he knew he would do no differently a second time around. At least now he knew the depths of the situation.

He reached for Iduna’s elbow and nudged her out of the room. The sun was dipping below the horizon now, and the mist thickened. He looked up at the dull glow of the rising moon and took a deep breath. “Iduna, it looks like you were right,” he said. “We’ll have to rest here tonight. There’s an inn just over there that will likely be empty. I’ve used up my powers and will fall asleep any minute now. I promise you, we’ll leave first thing tomorrow.”

He only hoped that everything would make more sense tomorrow.

Bright morning sunlight shone down on Vilir as he rode at the head of his army. They had left Cha. He'd heard of the beautiful shores of Lawan from Senbo and had decided to make camp at the beach this time instead of the hills. He would enjoy the fresh fish and breezes. Ah, yes, the wind off the sea would help clear the stench of Lawanian fear and weakness from him.

Senbo, Chief Skuld, and Chief Dagna rode slightly behind him. Although not a word escaped Senbo’s lips, Vilir swore that he could practically hear the man think. Any moment Senbo would break the silence.

“The castles of Cha are elegant and comfortable. A fitting tribute to such a conqueror as you. They would provide you with the luxuries you deserve.”

“I took what I wanted,” Vilir said.

As they went up the next crest, he could see the sparkling ocean spilled out before him— it would be all downhill from here. He paused to take in the view and the line of warriors behind him stopped automatically. They were all walking and riding instinctively today with little energy, and nothing but muscle memory carrying them forward.

He had never seen a warm ocean before. The air smelled of salt and seaweed. White gulls floated above, coasting on currents of unseen wind.

“Have I ever told you of the magicians of Okeenos?” Senbo asked.

“No. Tell us about them,” Vilir said.

Yes, he would listen, but he would choose his own time. He would not risk making his people hollow and void of all feeling forever. He would clear the world of all magic except for his, and then his people would be safe.

Back in Okeenos, Iduna found herself with Pua, Ani, and Kai, chowing down while they argued with each other. The lighthearted sunny sail back to the island had momentarily pushed aside the dark emptiness that she realized now plagued her. Enjoying the respite, being alive and lighter than ever, Iduna ate, took in her bright surroundings, and watched the odd trio.

“You used your powers on Gaelen!” Pua shouted.

Kai said, “Pua, you should have seen them. At least a hundred people hollow and vacant. You know that pub. It's always full of lively music and dancing. Brianna usually bellows out a song. She was a shadow. You would have done the same thing.”

“And you had no impact,” Ani said.

“Sure I did, at first, but it didn't last. I, alone, couldn’t do it. I tried to use Iduna to help.” He paused. “That didn’t go well.”

Iduna looked up from her chicken leg slathered in honey and cayenne. She'd hoped they wouldn't turn to her for at least as long as it took her to finish the best food she'd tasted in days. She'd have to remember the recipe for Surat. The trio did not look happy. She cringed. The break was over.

“You’re blaming me?” she asked.

“Yes, you. Don't act innocent,” Kai said.

“What did she do?” Pua eyed her appraisingly.

“Her feelings are dark, strong, sporadic. You should have seen the monster she drew from the sea. She has no control,” Kai said and waved his hands around his head in the seemingly universal mime for “madman.”

Iduna was shocked. That a Spellcrafter of her rank would be called completely without control was beyond her comprehension. She had been refining her control for years.

“Right. A high-ranked Spellcrafter with zero control. I've done more complicated spells than you can dream of,” she retorted.

“I doubt it. Now before you get riled up—I know I don't want to see that in your condition—why don't you show us the kind of thing you can do so we can understand,” Kai said.

“Yes, that's very practical. Iduna of Lawan, please give us an illustration,” Ani said.

Iduna was torn between feeling like a performing monkey, having to prove herself, and the anticipatory joy that comes from doing her magic. She went with it. Her goal was to get the Okeeno on her side, sharing any helpful secrets they may have.

She opted for something modest since the last thing she wanted was to fail, and, when she was being honest with herself, as such a moment required, she wasn't feeling very calm these days.

She cleaned her hands with her napkin and tucked her sun-bleached hair behind her long ears. She would go through all the motions to generate calm, and hopefully it would be enough.

She scooched to the end of the bench and balanced on her sit bones, grounding herself while simultaneously stretching her arms up to the sky. She brought her closely pressed palms together in front of her heart. Inhaling and humming lightly, she stretched her senses to the room around her. She felt the warm slight breeze coming through the window, smelled the soil in the potted plant nearby, saw the water collected from the stream for their drinks. It wasn't much, but it would do. She melded the water and soil into shapes, using the wind to lift and sort. Forming the elements into a regiment of miniature men, she assembled them, a marching band with a drum major calling time, and marched them across the table. When they reached the end of the surface, they stood at attention. She made a gesture, and they collapsed in a pile of sludge.

Kai whistled.

“That was messy,” Pua said.

“Iduna, can you explain to us why you need our help?” Kai asked. “You've done something here none of us can do.”

The question went to the heart of the problem. Iduna sat mutely. The gravity of and her proximity to the problem locked her throat as if a snake had coiled around her neck and was squeezing tightly. She couldn’t even whisper an answer.

Ani took in Iduna’s expression and spoke for her. “The magic that defeated Gaelen is not a case of matter versus matter. She can entwine and control elements in amazing ways, but that's where she thinks her power stops.”

Iduna's spine stiffened, and her eyes closed to conceal the great pain she felt. Ani’s words echoed her deepest fears. Her magic was hopeless at helping the ones she loved, and righting her mistakes would be impossible. Tinh had said it was her fault. She knew Senbo had already been interested in Lawan, but Vilir had seemed content to stay. She didn’t know what had made Vilir change his mind and couldn’t be sure it wasn’t her fault. She’d have to live with that.

“She may not be wrong in thinking so,” Pua said. “Before you argue, consider the separation between the lands of Lawan and Okeenos. There may be more reasons for it than we know.”

“Pua has a point. It’s no coincidence that our countries don’t trade. We’ve been unable to trade with Lawan my entire life,” Ani said.

“You’re not that old,” Pua said.

“I know that.” Ani rolled her eyes at Pua. “We’ve always been annoyed at the trade restriction, but maybe there’s something to it,” Ani said.

“Like what?” Pua asked.

“I don’t know.” Ani rubbed her forehead.

Kai said, “After what I've seen in Gaelen, it's worth risking to see if we can find a way to combat it. We have no way of accessing the Lawanian training materials, but we can share the Okeeno training, putting Iduna through the experience and see what happens.” His gaze swept through the group and paused at Iduna’s throat. “That necklace. At the very least, it’s evidence that the Lawanians have been here before. We don’t trade those, Iduna. How you have it is a mystery, but it could be a good sign.”

“Or not,” Pua said. “She'll be a long shot. Not only will she need to learn quickly in order to be of any use to anyone, but she comes with a mind conditioned against Okeeno ways. She admitted that she’d been exposed to Vilir’s power, and we have no idea if that will affect her ability to work Okeeno magic.”

“Oh, is that all?” Iduna felt the humor of the situation despite the gravity she'd felt moments ago. A smile hovered at the corners of her mouth. The threesome shifted their focus from each other and looked at the half-smiling Iduna.

Kai arched a brow. “See what I mean? She may seem as calm as the bay in zero wind, but she’s definitely got some emotional range in her,” he said to the other two.

Pua shook her head, and Ani stared hard at Iduna.

“Look, you have nothing to lose. Just put me through your training, and see what happens,” Iduna said.

Ani’s eyes shone brightly with unshed tears. Pua put a hand on Ani’s shoulder. “There are risks and costs with this,” Ani said.

Kai walked over to Ani and Pua. “I know this is hard, but whatever took Gaelen needs to be stopped. We could be next.” He bent his head and searched Ani’s eyes. When she finally looked at him, he said in a low voice, “She’s not your sister. We three survived it.”

“We did,” Ani said. “If she talks to Akio and still wants to go, then I agree. She can do the training.”

“Who’s Akio?” Iduna asked.

In the middle of the night, Skuld crept toward Dagna's tent. His steps were small and halting, as if he were tired or indecisive. Waves crashed on the beach where they'd made camp. Campfires dotted the shore for miles. The sand had biting flies, but it didn't seem to bother them. Everyone was in the drained state that followed an exercise of Vilir's power.

Skuld had just started flashing into true consciousness this morning. In fits and starts he saw his surroundings with new eyes. The memories came soon thereafter, and he'd shrunk with horror. The raw images filled his vision, and made him shiver and collapse into a ball. He'd been in his tent all day, keeping the servants out while he dealt with what they'd done. What he'd done.

Since Dagna controlled one half of the Ull army and he controlled the other half, they were usually in different places. He hadn't actually seen Dagna during the attack on Cha.

They’d killed all the wizards and acolytes. There hadn’t been many, but the acolytes had been so young. They had left the rest of the citizens alone … at least physically. Only Yorin knew what Vilir had done to them.

The area around Dagna’s tent was silent, with two guards at the front, staring numbly into the night. Skuld went to the back and entered through the bottom, between two spikes. Their tents were never secure, and they hadn't made an effort to fix it. The Ull liked simple designs, openness, and contact with the elements. Air blowing through a tent felt right to them. There should be flow. It was part of nature and was the way of the world. Flow and nature were core elements to his Ull beliefs.

Not seizing and grabbing and domination.

The tent was empty except for Dagna in her bedding. She was lying flat on her back with her arms at her sides. A single candle was lit next to her bed. Her eyes were open, and they stared at the ceiling with tears pouring slowly out the corners. The two of them had grown up together as playful rivals. As time passed, they had both turned into strong, independent leaders. The demands of their responsibilities, each controlling half of this enormous army, had made them hard. But now a new vulnerability opened between the two of them. He had never seen her look weak.

He approached slowly and knelt next to her bed. He put his hand in hers and whispered, “You're not alone.”

“Skuld. How could we?” Her hand grasped his like a lifeline.

He knew the answer. She knew the answer.

He clutched her hand and rested his head on her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair.

“We must stop him,” he said.

“How?”

“My mind is still foggy, but I've been working on this for a while.” He'd actually taken to chanting his plan in his head, hoping he would remember it. “The next time we both are called to Vilir's tent, we will kill him. I'll kick his legs out from under him, and you will use the time to get your ax in hand and deliver the killing blow.” Kick, ax, kill. It was a simple mantra.

“Senbo might be there.”

“We don't need to worry about him. I've never seen him fight. I don't think he even has a weapon.” It felt good to say these words out loud.

“He has a wicked-looking dagger,” Dagna said.

“Yes, but he hasn't had it on him in a long time.”

“Maybe we could just subdue Vilir. We could try talking to him.”

The idea was tempting. He had also known Vilir for a long time, and he had seemed a good man when they were younger. Appearances could be deceiving though, and Vilir was clearly an evil, powerful man. Skuld could not risk falling under Vilir’s sway again. An image from Cha flashed in Skuld’s mind's eye, and he flinched at the horror.

“No. He must be stopped and never allowed to control us again.” He raised his head and looked into her eyes. He needed to know that she was with him. That this nightmare would end.

“Okay. We will do this together,” she said.