The three warriors stared at him for a long, painful minute until, one by one, they sheathed their weapons and turned back to camp.
Athlone watched them go. They had not jumped into an instant acclamation of his decision, but they had not condemned him, either. He released his breath in a long, silent sigh. It was one thing to demand obedience from a warrior on the field of battle, but Athlone could not in good conscience order his men to accept his talent as a sorcerer. He could only hope their loyalty and respect for him as a chieftain would eventually win them over. Their acceptance would mean a great deal to the rest of the clan.
Sayyed had been watching the exchange with deep interest. He was very aware of the significance of Athlone’s decision to wield magic. He slid his sword back into its leather scabbard and stood arms akimbo, his body tight with anticipation. “Good! Gabria, you can teach us both to use our powers.”
“Not now,” she said hastily. “The night is late.”
“This is as good a time as any to start,” Athlone said.
Gabria groaned inwardly. She could hardly bear to teach Athlone for fear of what he wanted to do. Now she had to include Sayyed. The men were watching her expectantly, so she gritted her teeth and marched back to camp. Athlone and Sayyed were not going to let her wiggle out of this; it was clear she would have to teach them something—a few of the basic premises she had learned from the Woman of the Marsh. Perhaps if they knew more of the dangers of wielding magic they would have enough sense to leave the gorthling alone when they found it.
Gabria settled down by the fire and waited while Sayyed and Athlone came to join her. Tam came, too, and curled up beside Sayyed, her large eyes glittering in the firelight with a strange excitement. The other men went to their own tasks, but Gabria noticed they stayed close enough to hear her voice.
She paused briefly and cast her mind back to the mangrove tree in the swamp and the ancient sorceress whose rasping voice still spoke clearly in her memory.
“Will is at the center of sorcery,” Gabria forced herself to say. “With every spell you create, you are attempting to impose your will on the fabric of our world. Magic is a natural force that is in every creature, stone, or plant. When you alter that force, even with the smallest spell, you must be strong enough to control the effect and the consequences. The forces of magic can destroy you if you cannot control them,” she told her fascinated listeners. “The strength of will is the most important trait of a magic-wielder. Therefore, you must know yourself, every measure and degree of your own soul so you can recognize your limitations and know when the sorcery has begun to leach strength from your being.”
“Is that what happened to Branth?” Athlone asked.
Gabria nodded. “I think so. I think the Fon pushed him too far and his mind was not clear enough to recognize his danger. All magic-wielders must be very careful not to overextend their powers.”
“What else does a magic-wielder need?” Sayyed demanded.
“Desire, concentration, and imagination,” the sorceress continued. “Not all spells are rigidly defined. You can often create your own. The reason you need spells is to clarify your intent in your mind. The words help you focus your powers on the magic. You must know exactly what you want to do or the magic will go awry.”
“Like my sphere,” Athlone said.
“Exactly.”
Sayyed leaned forward. “What about the Trymian Force?”
“The force is drawn from the power within the wielder. You can use it at will and change its intensity, but you must be careful not to overuse it or it will seriously weaken you.”
“Can you show us how to control it?” he requested, his excitement sparkling in his eyes.
Alarmed, Gabria shook her head. “No. It’s too soon. You nearly got us killed when you tried to use the force against the Korg.”
“But Gabria,” Sayyed protested. “How can we help you fight the gorthling if you don’t show us how to use our power?”
All at once, Gabria’s fear and reluctance broke loose, and she rushed to her feet. “Don’t you see?” she said forcefully. “You can’t help me. There isn’t enough time to teach you to defend yourselves, let alone fight something as powerful and evil as the gorthling. You will be killed if you try. So don’t learn. Don’t try. Let me fight it, and if I win, I will teach you later, when there’s time.”
“And if you don’t win?” Athlone asked quietly.
“Then you’ll have to find another teacher.”
Sayyed sprang to his feet, his long black hair flying like a stallion’s mane. “Gabria, you are being unreasonable! You can’t fight that thing alone.”
“I most certainly can,” she cried. “I won’t be responsible for your deaths.”
Athlone looked up at her, his voice cold with anger. “You will jeopardize the clans and endanger yourself.”
“I’ll endanger myself far more by taking two unskilled sorcerers into an arcane battle they have no chance of surviving. Without you, I won’t be distracted, worried, or terrified for your safety. No! No more. Stay out of this, all of you.” She swept her cloak onto her shoulders and strode out of the firelight.
Athlone and Sayyed looked at one another, and for once their thoughts were in perfect accord.
“She is not going to fight it alone,” Sayyed muttered.
“No.” Athlone arched an eyebrow. “If we work together, perhaps we can learn enough to surprise her.”
Sayyed held out his hand, and the Khulinin clasped it to seal the vow.
Tam watched them with her bright, eager eyes and, unbeknownst to the men, she made her own vow to herself. They’ were not going to leave her out of this.
Meanwhile, Gabria hurried into the darkness. The night was warm and dry, so she went to sit on a nearby hill. Long after the distant campfire had burned out, she sat on the grassy slope while her thoughts spun through her mind. She was frightened of meeting the gorthling alone, but she was terrified of losing Athlone or Sayyed to the beast through their lack of skill or hers. She knew she could never forgive herself if they died in a situation they had no business being in at all.
“No,” Gabria whispered to the stars, “they must not fight. It is my duty, not theirs.” Within her heart she vowed to fight alone, even if it meant leaving her companions and seeking the gorthling herself. Athlone would be furious, but at least he would be alive.
At one point a doubt crept into her mind: what if they were right? Was she being arrogant and selfish to think she could handle the gorthling alone? What would the clans do if the creatures did kill her? Gabria immediately banished those doubts. She could think of no other way to destroy the gorthling. The creature had to be fought with magic, and she was the only one who had any hope of succeeding.
16
Day followed day and league after endless league fell behind the small patty of riders as they pushed south on the trail of the gorthling. They traveled as fast as possible, for they were desperate to catch the creature before it reached the gathering. They pushed themselves and their horses hard and stopped to rest only when necessary. To increase their speed, they dumped most of their gear, using the pack horses as spare mounts.
Gabria worried at first that Tam or the Hunnuli colt would wear down under the rigors of the rough travel—the journey had already been a long, hard one for everyone. To her relief, the Reidhar girl and the colt managed very well. Tam stayed close to Sayyed, riding with him and keeping him company in the evenings. She still had not said a word, but she smiled more and pampered Sayyed with her constant attention. The Turic, for his part, was pleased to have her friendship and treated her with the humor and affection of a protective big brother.