The Spirit Stone - Katharine Kerr [77]
‘At least we can take the herds south where it doesn’t snow much at all. I was just wondering if you found us all strange.’
‘Different, but not strange in a bad way.’
‘Good. But if you have any questions or the like, just ask me.’
‘Well, here’s a thing I don’t understand. Why do your people call Nevyn and your da “Wise Ones”?’
Loddlaen hesitated for several long moments. ‘Because they have dweomer,’ he said finally.
‘Oh here! Now you’re teasing me. Seriously, why do they?’
‘It’s no jest. They have dweomer, and they studied long and hard to get it, too, so they deserve to be called wise.’
‘I truly do hate being teased like this.’
‘So do I, and that’s why I’m not teasing you. Why do you think I am?’
Morwen was about to snarl and demand he stop, but he looked so honestly puzzled that she refrained. ‘I’ve always been told,’ she said instead, ‘that there’s no such thing as dweomer.’
‘Oh.’ He paused to grin at her. ‘I should have known that Roundears would be so stupid.’
‘Are you truly telling me that there’s such a thing?’
‘See for yourself.’ Loddlaen pointed at his fire circle, then called out a few words in Elvish.
Two salamanders appeared on either side of the tinder and kindling. Evan squealed in delight as they rose up on their hindquarters; one even waved a steaming orange paw in his direction, and its flat broad mouth gaped in what might have been a smile. She heard Loddlaen snap his fingers. The bits of grass suddenly burst into flame. When Loddlaen snapped his fingers a second time, the flame went out.
‘The salamanders will light fires for you,’ he said. ‘If you know how to ask them. Learning how is part of the dweomer.’
From behind her a masculine voice suddenly swore. She twisted around to see Tirro staring, as open-mouthed as the salamander. Loddlaen jumped to his feet.
‘What are you doing here?’ Loddlaen snapped.
‘I’m sorry.’ Tirro took a step back. ‘My master let me have a little time to myself, a reward, like, for helping move camp. I’m sorry. I’ll go away.’ Tears came to his eyes.
‘What? Don’t!’ Loddlaen said. ‘You just startled me, and you’re not supposed to see things like this.’
‘I won’t tell! I promise. I truly truly won’t.’
‘It’s all right, then. Here. Come sit down.’
Like a dog who fears a beating, Tirro walked up one slow paw at a time. When Loddlaen gave him an encouraging smile, he sat down a few feet farther from the fire circle than Morwen and Loddlaen. His eyes still glistened with tears, but he seemed to have forgotten about them in his awe at the blackened tinder.
‘Did I really see you light a fire without anything?’ Tirro whispered. ‘No flint, no steel, naught?’
‘Well, the Wildfolk are the ones who actually did the lighting,’ Loddlaen said.
‘Oh, of course they did!’ Tirro grinned at him. ‘But it doesn’t matter. I can see why you don’t want to tell me how you did it.’
‘I already did tell you,’ Loddlaen said with a sigh. ‘But no matter, indeed. Please—I can’t say this enough—never ever let my da know what you saw here. He’d have my hide on the wall of his tent. We’re never supposed to let outsiders know about dweomer.’
‘I shan’t say a word.’ Tirro suddenly looked so sad that he seemed to have aged fifty years. ‘You’re lucky, Morwen. You belong here now. You get to see the marvels.’
‘So I am.’ All at once she felt sorry for him. ‘Well, though, who knows? Maybe there are marvels for you somewhere else.’
‘Where?’ Tirro spat out the word. ‘In Bardek? Not beastly likely!’
‘From what you’ve told us, just being in Bardek will be a marvel in itself,’ Loddlaen said. ‘Let me get you a mug and somewhat to drink. Mead or honey-water?’
‘Mead, and my thanks, if you can spare a bit.’
When Loddlaen got up, Evan leaned against Morwen and stuck his thumb in his mouth. He was watching Tirro with his pale brows furrowed in a little frown.
‘You look tired, sweetheart,’ Morwen said to him. ‘It’s time for your nap. Let’s go to Da’s tent.’
Instead of whining, Evan merely nodded agreement.