Mirian remembered the Soothsayer in Herdon. How he’d grabbed her ankle and yelled, “White light.” Given that Gryham had managed to find them, Jake must have been a little less annoyingly obscure.
Gryham’s low stone cottage was on the other side of a fast-moving stream. There was no well, but a shed and a garden, and it both did and didn’t look familiar. Mirian stood at the edge of the rough bridge and made herself step onto it.
“Something wrong, little mage?”
“It just…” She gripped a handful of her skirt so tightly her hand ached. “There was a family, Pack, and they were killed…”
“Aye. Jake Saw you find them.”
If she had to call his expression anything, she’d say he looked sad. “Why aren’t you angry?”
“I’m angry. But he also Saw you deal with those who did the killing. It’s good they paid.”
“It doesn’t change anything.”
He shrugged. “They won’t do it again.”
“You’re still considered an abomination.”
“You think I haven’t been called names before, little mage? Since I came out of the mountains, I’ve been called many names.”
“But this name can get you killed!”
“Yes. But most that know we’re out here don’t know I’m Pack. Besides, Jake’ll give us a full day’s warning. That’s all he Sees, a full day into tomorrow. It’s why he’s not crazier than he is, I expect. Also, I’m large.”
“I noticed.”
“Most do. Now…” He changed, leaped the stream, and changed again. “…come on.”
Tomas changed and jumped the stream as well. “You could always part the water,” he called from the other side.
“There’s a bridge,” Mirian sighed. And crossed it.
Jake was a short man with dark hair and dark stubble. The dim light inside the cottage made it hard for Mirian to see the details of his face. “You want one rabbit to do for four people,” he shouted as they came into the cabin, “it’s going to have to be stew. We’ll use the last of the parsnips. Sure they look like limp dicks, but you won’t notice after they’re cooked.”
From the smell, he was frying fish. And fiddleheads.
“Rabbit’s for tomorrow night, then. Guess I’m hunting.” Gryham crossed the cabin, wrapped both enormous hands around the smaller man’s face and kissed him on the mouth. It wasn’t a fond kiss, it was more an if we didn’t have company I’d do you right here on the floor kiss. “Come back, love. We’re here.”
“I think I’ll get dressed,” Tomas muttered behind her, dragging his clothes off the bedroll. When Mirian glanced back at him, he shrugged. “There’s only so much the scent of fish can cover.”
“Have them set the table up outside.” His mouth finally free, Jake grinned up at Gryham. “And put some flaming trousers on before I burn supper.”
“We don’t have time for supper.” Although her mouth was watering, Mirian felt she had to make the protest. Supper wouldn’t bring them closer to the Mage-pack. When Jake turned toward her and raised a brow, she sighed. “Fine.”
“Furs, fish, fortunes sometimes.” Jake grinned over the edge of his mug. “For those who don’t need to see too far. We find enough to trade for what we can’t make on our own. Flour, cheese, decent tea.”
Mirian frowned, smoothing the tangled fringe on her shawl. “And no one in the village looks at you differently since the church declared the Pack abominations?”
“Most of the village thinks Gryham’s my keeper, assigned by the emperor himself.”
“Why would they think that?” Tomas asked.
Jake’s grin broadened. “Everyone knows the emperor loves his Soothsayers.”
“You lied to them.” Mirian shook her head as Jake laughed. “But Soothsayers can’t lie.”
“Not in vision,” Gryham grunted. “The rest of the time, there’s nothing stopping them. Except maybe basic decency.”
“It was for your own good.”
“So you keep saying.” Gryham lifted the hand he’d been holding since they sat down and kissed the back of it. “Liar.”
Sometimes it seemed as if the two of them spoke their own private language. Mirian wondered if her parents had ever been like that and doubted it almost immediately. “There’s a course on Soothsayers at the university, but I’ve never heard of visions being prevented by touch.”
“I’ll bet there’s plenty you haven’t heard of, little mage.”
Tomas growled. “Stop calling her that!”
Gryham stared across the table at him. “When she tells me to.”
“I don’t mind.” Mirian shifted sideways on the bench so she and Tomas were touching. Pressed their shoulders together. Dropped her nearer hand to his thigh. Wound her bare foot around his under the table. Felt him relax. When the corners of Gryham’s mouth twitched, she glared them still and turned to Jake. “Do you remember what you see in vision when you’re not in vision?”
“Not until it happens. This university of yours, does it have a name?”
“Officially it’s the Aydori Institute for the Identification and Instruction of Mage-craft but no one ever calls it that. It’s just the university.”
“Like it’s the only one,” he snorted. “Why not call it The Institute?”
“That never quite caught on.”
Gryham beamed at her when Jake laughed. “It’s where they taught you to be a mage?”
“It’s where they teach mages,” Mirian allowed. “They didn’t have a lot of luck teaching me.”
“Good.”
“Good? It’s not good! All I know is basic level mage-craft. First and second and maybe I can fake a few third levels just from overhearing them spoken about, but that’s it!”
“Good.”
“Stop saying that! It’s not good, it’s pathetic!” Under the edge of the table, Tomas closed his hand around hers and squeezed. Mirian took a deep breath. “All right. Fine. Tell me why you think it’s good.”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t. I thought we were here because…”
“I can’t.” Jake nodded at Gryham. “But he can. I Saw him do it.”
“Inside first.” Gryham stood up and stretched. “It still gets cold after the sun sets.”
“Fucking rain. This keeps up, the garden will flood.”
Mirian looked up at a clear sky and the first evening stars, down at Jake, then back up at Gryham.
Who shrugged. “I can’t be touching him all the time. And now we know why you don’t leave tomorrow.”
“The Packs came out of the mountains; Orin and Ural beyond that. Lines on maps mostly; it’s still wild land up there. Pack lands. Aydori was the closest to non Pack lands and so non Pack started to move in. They’re like rats. Some of them are like rats,” Gryham grunted as Jake drove an elbow into his side. “Pack Leaders in Aydori had to decide whether to drive them out or learn to rule them. Decided the latter, didn’t they, and Aydori got civilized.”
“What’s wrong with civilization?” Tomas demanded. “Orin is all raw meat and beer.”
“There’s nothing wrong with raw meat and beer, and while I don’t give a half-eaten rat’s ass about civilization’s opinion, things are simpler in the mountains. The mage-craft isn’t so tied up in rules and levels and shit. Less of it comes from here…” He leaned forward and tapped Mirian’s forehead. “…and more of it comes from here.” He tapped her breastbone, as far from her breasts as he could get and still be touching her chest.
Tomas growled.
“Stop it,” Mirian said absently, leaning back against his arm. “When you say more, you don’t just mean more, do you?”