"If we are to survive, we must leave this place in a very few hours. Kedra?"
"I am here, Father," came his voice. Strong and sure, my anchor.
"Come to me at the Chamber of Souls, my son, once you and Mirazhe have Sherok safe. I will need your assistance to prepare the Ancestors and the soulgems of the Lost for the journey."
I would not listen to any who tried to bespeak me. I was weary beyond belief.
The Place of Exile had been our home for more than five thousand years—it was the only home, the only world, any of us had ever known.
And as I flew, I seemed to hear my own voice chanting to a succession of younglings over the long, long years.
First is the Wind of Change, Second is Shaping, Third is the Unknown, and Last is the Word.
It is the first of the teaching verses, the basis of our understanding of the way the world works, the four Winds that blow through our lives. But she who taught me that verse when I was no more than a killing never told me that the wind of change, on wings of flame, could blow so very, very cold.
The problem of Vilkas has come to a head at last. I have alerted the other Magistri. Finally, the chance to get him and that wretched girl out of my way! Now it has come to the point, it has been so very, very easy. And Erthik and Caillin at a stroke—ah, life is sweet.
Vilkas has been a student here at the College for two years. He tested nearly as high on his entrance as I did all those years ago, a once-in-a-generation power—but I would have wagered a day of my life that he was not working to his capacity for the test. I suspected at the time that he was a powerful wastrel who could not be bothered to exert himself and would come to nothing, for I have seen others of that kind, if never any so strong. Still, his capacity was high enough for me to keep a watch on him. I made certain mat my occasional observations of him were well hidden from the other Magistri, and went out of my way to befriend him. He was not interested in my friendship. Given the power available to him, that made him my enemy.
Not long after he arrived, the girl Aral appeared. She also tested very high, not in the same class as Vilkas but with more real ability than even her test results would indicate. She is not a threat, however, and may even be an asset, for she is his weakness. They are both far too powerful for their good or mine, but they are young and ignorant enough to be outmatched without overmuch effort.
I timed it well. When Magister Rikard unlocked the door this morning and swiftly threw it open we caught them in the very act. Vilkas was surrounded by a brilliant corona, the Healers' Power without a doubt, and he was using it to hold an unconcerned Aral some three feet off the floor.
"Vilkas!" cried Rikard, appalled.
Every member of the Council, assembled for this very purpose, saw the tall young man turn his head, acknowledge us with a nod, and gently lower the girl to the ground. The moment her feet touched the floor she would have started forward, but Vilkas raised a hand and she stopped where she was, bristling with righteous indignation. I suppressed my laughter with difficulty.
Vilkas bowed to the Council, calm and faintly amused. Aral stood unmoving, with a defiant flush on her cheeks. "Very well, gentlemen, you have found us out," said Vilkas with a smile. "I hope you will allow us to explain our actions."
"Vilkas, how could you!" cried Rikard. "When Magister Berys told me I would not believe it. How can you act against all we have tried to teach you?"
Vilkas only lifted an eyebrow. "I have acted against nothing you have taught me, Magister Rikard. We have invoked the Lady with every breath. All is well. And Aral is unhurt, as you see."
"We've done nothing wrong," said Aral. She was bristling now, all five feet of her, in defence of her friend. So, he was her weakness too. I had not known that for certain. "What is it that you object to?"
I turned to Magistra Erthik. "Do I understand that you have not warned these two against using the Power for purposes other than healing?"
Erthik was the least concerned among us, with the possible exception of Vilkas, and spoke lightly. "Berys, really! You know perfectly well that if you desperately want an entire class of students to do a thing, all you need do is say, just once, 'Don't even think about doing this, it's dangerous and unpredictable.' We don't even mention such possibilities one way or the other until the third year, and it never occurs to one in a hundred that our power might have other applications before then. Only one in ten of those ever try it." She looked at the pair before us and smiled crookedly. "Well— two in ten. Though I must say that's the most impressive result I've ever seen." She had the insolence to sound impressed.
"Then there is a prohibition against the use of the Power for anything other than healing?" said Vilkas, unperturbed.
"Of course there is," said Rikard sternly. "And despite Magistra Erthik's indulgence you should know it is a most serious offence."
"So I gather. However, given that we were both ignorant of such a prohibition, you can hardly condemn us for attempting to discover the limits of our gifts."
"On the contrary, Master Vilkas," I said, "condemnation is precisely the word. There is a harsh penalty for what you have done."
"A penalty for ignorance? Then the whole world owes a debt," said Aral sharply. "We have acted in the name of the Lady at every turn."
"Why?" I asked her, and when Vilkas attempted to speak I silenced him. "No, I would hear Mistress Aral." I turned to her. "Why did you feel it necessary to be so assiduous in your devotions, Mistress? Surely a simple prayer of invocation to begin would be enough."
She spoke her defiance without hesitation. "It might have been, indeed, but I am a servant of the Lady. We were making sure there was no room for the Rakshasa, Magister."
"What made you think there might be?"
Vilkas laughed. "Magister, I know you have chosen to keep all of your students in the dark, but after a year and a half of working together we have learned that any extended use of the Power draws those of the Demon-kind like cats to a fishmonger. I do not know, but I would guess that Power is like food and drink to them, or like sunlight, and the more you use it the nigher they come unless you do something about it."
His gaze lingered on me just that fraction too long.
"Magistri, you may leave us," I said. "I will deal with this."
Erthik was loath to go and began to grow angry. "This is not a matter for you alone, Berys," she said. "This must be dealt with by all of us. You do not know these two, but I do. Let them be disciplined, certainly, but you cannot think either of them Raksha-touched."
I let slip some of my anger and directed it at her. "Erthik, you do not know what can happen to even the stoutest soul when it perverts the Power. I do. That is all my study, night and morning. You treat this far too lightly! I will bring them before the Assembly this afternoon, but I have a few words to say to them first."
For a moment I feared she would not go—she is stubborn—but after a last long look at the two of them she nodded and left. Fool. Rikard seemed more hurt than angry, for these two had been in some sense his apprentices. He left with the others, muttering sad phrases. I closed the door swiftly behind them.
"Magister Rikard informs me that you have been experimenting with the Power," I said coldly. "That you have attempted Farspeech, and moving objects with the Power, and that you have tried to read the future. Do you deny these charges?"
"No." Vilkas, straightforward as a knife and every bit as malleable.
"For Shia's sake, we've never tried to hide it." Aral, armoured in justice. Fool.
"Know you the penalty for such a misuse of power?"
"It was not misused. We simply applied it in a different way," said Vilkas. He was controlled as always: unconcerned, his eyes half-lidded, his voice steady and calm. "We have done all in the name of the Lady, invoked her with every breath. There is no Raksha-trace on either of us."