“I need such lessons,” she said, looking up from the basin, water dripping off her face as the blacking washed away. “It’s why I’ve come. Even knowing you would probably say no. My parents are farmers in the Westland village of Backing Fell. They have no money and know no one who uses magic. My brother can use it, too, like I said. But he’s not good with it.”
She trailed off, deciding she had already said enough. But the Druid was watching her closely.
“You came all the way from the deep end of the Westland to ask me to teach you?” Drisker shook his head. “Not very sensible of you. Why not go to the Elves in Arborlon?”
“I don’t want Elves teaching me. I want you. You’re the best magic user of all. Everyone says so. You’re the most accomplished, the most talented, and the most experienced. I thought all I needed to do was persuade you.”
“How did you even find me?”
She had finished washing off her face. He beckoned her to a seat at his kitchen table, where he had already set out the tea and bread. She began to eat without a word. After several bites, she looked up again. “As I said, it wasn’t that hard. I just asked around. I thought you were in Paranor at first, but that turned out not to be the case.”
“Someone told you I was here?”
“Not right off. At first, people ignored me. They told me to go away. But I don’t give up easily. I kept asking. I finally found someone who was happy to tell me where you were.”
“Who was that?”
“I have no idea. Whoever he was, he didn’t seem to like you much. He said you were thrown out of Paranor and good riddance.”
“So it appears Paranor is not the only place where I’m not so popular these days.”
“Why were you thrown out?” she asked.
“I wasn’t thrown out. I was exiled.”
“So you left,” she said, finishing her bread and licking her fingers. “Why did you do that? Why didn’t you fight it? There must be more to the story.”
“Do you think that’s your business?”
She shrugged. “No. I’m just curious. Paranor was your home. You lived there for years. You were High Druid. You were respected. Why would you give all that up?”
He leaned back in his chair, giving her a look. “Some things aren’t worth keeping. Sometimes, you have to let go. Sometimes, you have to follow your conscience and put aside your pride.”
“You wanted a different life for yourself? Like me?”
“Maybe not like you, but yes, I wanted a different life. The Druid order isn’t what it once was, and I couldn’t seem to change the direction it was going or the mindsets of my fellows. I have a strong sense of purpose when it comes to being a Druid, but those around me didn’t seem to share it. I tried to change their minds, but I failed. In the end, I decided I couldn’t stay. So I left.”
“What do you do now?”
“You are curious, aren’t you? Some might call you nosy.”
“Some might. Some have. I wasn’t well liked in my village. People are afraid once they sense there’s something different about you. I don’t have any friends except for my brother, and he is only a sometimes-friend. Even my parents are a little afraid of me. And a whole lot afraid of him.”
“You are right about having magic. It doesn’t win you friends. It makes people fear you, but sometimes, if you are lucky, it makes them respect you, too. Another good lesson, Tarsha.”
“That one I’ve already learned.” She looked around at the cottage. “So what are you doing here?”
“Reading. Studying magic. Enjoying the peace and quiet of the forest.”
“Sounds boring. Why don’t you teach me, instead? At least, that would be interesting. I’m not afraid of hard work, and I could be good with magic if someone would show me how to use it properly. You could do that.”
“I left teaching magic behind when I departed Paranor for Emberen.” He poured them both another cup of tea, then shoved it all aside impulsively and brought out a pitcher of ale from cold storage and poured them each a glassful, instead. “Are you allowed to have this?”
Tarsha shrugged. “My mother probably wouldn’t approve.”
“From what I’ve seen of you so far, that doesn’t bother you much. Does she approve of you coming here on your own?”
“She doesn’t know. If she did, I wouldn’t be here.” She picked up the glass of ale and drained it. “Good. I’ve had better once or twice, but this is tasty. Did you make it?”
“I did. Now let’s cut to the chase. Something about your explanation doesn’t ring true. You spoke about your brother. It seems his need to learn to control the magic is much stronger than yours, yet you didn’t bring him with you. Why is that?”
She held her glass out for more, trying to think what she should say. “I don’t like talking about it,” she said finally as he refilled her ale.
“Maybe not, but I think you have to. If he is the reason you are here, I have to know that. I have to know about him. You want me to be your teacher? Then you have to be willing to tell me all your secrets.”
“You already said you wouldn’t be my teacher.”
Drisker Arc shrugged. “You decide.”
She hesitated again, this time for longer. Then she sighed. “My brother is scary,” she said.
“Too scary to bring with you, even given his condition?”
“Especially given his condition. It’s gotten worse. He has little control over his temper and less over his magic. I tried to teach him what I could, but I must not have been a very good teacher. He just never understood. Much of the time, I was worried about what he might do to other children. I was afraid he might hurt them. When he grew angry, his temper was uncontrollable.”
She paused, taking a fresh drink, lowering her eyes. “It was so bad having him at home that my parents moved him out four years ago. They sent him to live with my uncle on a farm in a nearby town. My uncle lives alone, no family. So now my brother works for him, laboring in the fields. He hates my uncle, but he has nowhere else to go.”
“Sounds very unpleasant.” Drisker eyed her the way he might a curious object. His brow furrowed. “Did you tell him you were leaving to come here?”
“No, I couldn’t.”
“Because he wouldn’t have liked it?”
“Because neither my parents nor my uncle allow me to see him. But I am afraid for him. I did manage to see him once, and something was terribly wrong. My uncle spoke of games they played, and…It didn’t sound right. I think he might be…doing something to Tavo. Something he shouldn’t. I had to find some way to help him.”
The Druid nodded slowly. “So you’re here because of him, aren’t you? If I help you, maybe you can help him.”
Tarsha forced herself to meet his gaze. “Yes.”
She was irritated that he had seen through her so easily. She had hoped to tell him in her own good time and on her own terms. She had hoped to keep this part of her life to herself. But he was too perceptive for that.
“You realize, of course, that teaching someone to use magic—especially magic as powerful as the wishsong—takes months, maybe years. By the time you learn enough to help him, everything might have changed in his life. Or yours. And there is nothing to say that anything you learn from me would even do what you want for your brother. His condition doesn’t sound like something that can be mended quickly.”