Renegade's Magic (The Soldier Son Trilogy #3)

Renegade's Magic (The Soldier Son Trilogy #3) Page 147

Yet others of Olikea’s kin-clan were not as swift to welcome Soldier’s Boy wholeheartedly. I suspect that Jodoli did not encourage the people of his kin-clan to trust the interloper. Soldier’s Boy’s presence had greatly modified the attitude of the extended family group toward Jodoli. Both he and Firada had been relieved when Soldier’s Boy had taken up residence in Lisana’s old lodge, well away from the village where they traditionally wintered. They had been happy to characterize him as a Great One with no attached kin-clan, a sort of renegade mage. Jodoli had begun to solidify his standing with the kin-clan, and now here came Soldier’s Boy, threatening it once more.

What could have been a confrontation was defused when Soldier’s Boy instead sought Jodoli’s advice on the summoning, sharing his concern for Likari. At first Soldier’s Boy only asked questions and listened solemnly to every answer, even when Jodoli tediously overtrod ground well known to both of them. Firada had a soft spot for her nephew, and as the evening passed into night, the consultation changed into a family discussion. Jodoli’s home was twice the size of Lisana’s old lodge and lush with the acquisitions of a man who had been a Great One for years. These comforts Soldier’s Boy openly admired, stroking Jodoli’s pride. Yet when the night deepened about the lodge and we all drew closer to the hearth, the great lodge seemed a small place where the dancing firelight illumined a circle of faces wearied by sorrow. The feeders had been sent off to their homes. Only this “family” remained, the two women and their father, and Jodoli and Soldier’s Boy.

I should not have been surprised to discover that Jodoli was as fond of the boy as anyone was, and as shocked and offended that Kinrove had let the summoning take a feeder. It was a painful discussion for all involved, as Soldier’s Boy asked difficult questions about how long the boy might be expected to dance. He bluntly asked how long other youths called to the dance had lived, and the answer chilled us all. Two seasons. If Likari were not freed from the dance by summer, he would almost certainly die of it.

“Two seasons in which to save him. That isn’t much time,” Soldier’s Boy said anxiously.

“Two seasons to save him from death,” Firada corrected him. “Two seasons only if you are content to bring him home crippled and broken. The dance is arduous and unrelenting, Nevare. It breaks bodies, for the magic cares little for what it demands of our flesh. In two seasons, Likari will look like a little old man. His body will be stunted, for he will not grow properly on that regimen. And his mind will have been consumed by the magic. This we have seen in those Dasie freed from the dance. The adults who were returned have regained some of their connections to home and family and kin-clan. But the younger ones were completely seduced by the dance. I have heard of at least five rescued dancers who have since decided to return. They do not know what else to do with their lives. Of those who have remained, they are very young in mind; they have not grown in knowledge or manners since they were taken. They know nothing but the dance and the infusion of purpose that the magic put in them. Likari, I think, will be more susceptible to that than most. If we wait two seasons to try to take him back, well. By then it would be more of a kindness not to, to let him spend out his life there.”

Olikea had been strangely quiet. She blinked then, freeing tears that rolled down her cheeks. She did not breathe harshly or gulp. These flowing tears that spilled silently were a frequent phenomenon now, as if she wept deep inside and only her tears reached the surface. She still tended me, but she was most often silent. She appeared lost and childlike, as if she had been transported back to the days when her mother had vanished. I realized then that the view she had given me of Speck family life had been skewed to her own perspective. She had kept Likari at arm’s length all his life, fearing that she might lose him. Yet when she did lose him, even that distance had not been enough to protect her.

Soldier’s Boy reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. Although I knew his heart remained with Lisana, he and Olikea remained occasional lovers and she always shared his bed. Offering him that physical release was a part of her being his feeder; she did not expect romance or passion beyond the physical sort. Since Likari had been lost, it seemed to me that they coupled more often, as if seeking a comfort they could not quite find. Perhaps she tried for another child to replace the one she had lost. Perhaps he touched her so gently only because he wished to strengthen his bond with her and hence her kin-clan. In any case, I envied them what they had, the uncomplicated physical enjoyment of each other. Sometimes I shamed myself by pretending it was Amzil that my hands caressed, Amzil’s mouth reaching eagerly for mine. It was a sour pretense that only left me feeling more desolately lonely than ever. At all times, there remained a bristly affection between them, and the shared loss of Likari had only strengthened it. She slept against his belly rather than his back these days, and when she cried out in her sleep, he often held her. Now he immediately reassured her.