“I know that.” She exhaled sharply and fought back the tears that threatened. “But I couldn’t just sit back and hope things got better. I took a chance. He’s my brother. Good or bad, sane or not, I love him.”
“But that doesn’t change the facts. Magic can’t be mastered overnight. It can’t be turned quickly to specific purposes. It has to be understood. You have to be inhabited by it. It has to be embraced by your heart, mind, and body.”
“I know that, too. I know all that. But I have to get better at using it. I have to learn how to…”
She trailed off, suddenly engulfed in a feeling of hopelessness and futility. This wasn’t working. She stood up abruptly. “Thanks for talking to me. And for the tea and bread and ale. I have to go.”
Drisker shrugged. “I was hoping you would stay a little longer.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“Giving up so easily?”
She wheeled on him. “Well, you made it pretty clear how you feel about helping me. You think I’ve gone about this the wrong way and don’t deserve your help. You want me out of your hair. So I’m going.”
She started for the door.
“Hold on!” he called out sharply. When she turned back, he said, “Maybe I’m rethinking my position.”
“No, you’re not. You’re just saying that!” She was angry and petulant, and she heard it in her words. She blushed deeply and shook her head. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just disappointed. I don’t think that of you.”
“Well, you won’t find out if you leave, will you?”
She slowed at the door and turned. “If this is a game…”
His dark face was inquisitive and oddly encouraging. “You showed real courage and determination coming here. Not many could have done what you have. I think that’s worth considering.”
She hesitated and then came back to the table and sat. “So you might agree to teach me?”
“Don’t you think you’re worth it?”
She grinned. A little of the cockiness returned. “Of course.”
“Then let’s talk about it a little more. Let’s see if maybe it might be possible.” He paused. “You interest me, Tarsha Kaynin.”
The discussion continued for a time, with Tarsha answering question after question about her magic and her ability to use it. The Druid seemed as interested in the extent of her understanding of how it worked and what it could do as he was in her personally. She let him take her wherever he wanted in this discussion, encouraged now that she could persuade him to take her on as his student. His words as she’d been about to leave convinced her she still stood a chance of winning him over, and she had no intention of letting that chance slip away.
“You realize you are committing yourself to a long period of serious study and practical experience, Tarsha,” he said at one point. “This isn’t something you can undertake if you don’t intend to stick with it. You have to be sure that no matter how difficult or unpleasant it becomes, you will not walk away.”
“I made that decision before I came to find you,” she assured him. “I’ve lived with the wishsong since I discovered it as a child. I didn’t even know what it was back then. I didn’t know what was happening to me. I don’t think anything can be as frightening or confusing as that was. I have to master it if I’m to live with it.”
“And help your brother?”
“I can’t help him if I can’t help myself.”
“You aren’t suffering from any of the same problems he is, are you?”
She hadn’t thought about that. She hesitated. “If I was, you wouldn’t teach me, would you?”
His smile was unexpectedly kind. “Just answer the question, please.”
“I don’t think I have his problems. I’m not like him. Even aside from his struggle with the magic, we have very different personalities. I think I’m stronger than he is.”
He studied her a moment, as if judging the validity of what she had said. Or perhaps measuring her strengths as she had revealed them in this conversation. “I think you are probably right.”
“Will you take me on?” she pressed, unable to stand it any longer. “I’ve done everything I can to persuade you. So will you?”
“Let’s understand something,” he said. “I am not a Druid. I am a once-Druid. So you will not be receiving instruction from the real article, only a semblance of one. I will be able to teach you magic, but I will not be able to make you a Druid.”
“I care nothing for being a Druid.”
“As well, if I agree to teach you, I will need something back in payment. Not credits but services. You must agree to stay with me for one year afterward, working as my assistant, using what I’ve taught you to help me out. Will you agree to do this?”
Tarsha hesitated. If she agreed, she would be away from her home and her brother for a year beyond the time it took her to complete her training. That seemed a very long time to let things go untended, given how she had left them. She had thought to go back sooner, to take what knowledge she had gained and use it to help him.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t think I can leave Tavo alone for that long.”
“I understand,” Drisker said quietly. “So I will make a bargain with you. Once I find you ready for it, I’ll give you time to go home and do what you can. No more than two weeks, but at least enough time to find out what is needed. After that, you come back. If things are bad, we can talk about how it should be handled.”
“You will listen to what I might think is necessary?”
“I will listen. And you, in turn, must listen to me.”
Everything she could have hoped for was being offered her. Everything she had come to find, everything she had thought she had lost, was now gained back. The tears started again, and she took a moment to compose herself. It was a long moment.
When she was steady again, she looked up at him. “We have a bargain.”
“Then let’s begin, Tarsha Kaynin.”
SEVEN
Two days later, within the walls of the Druid Keep at Paranor, High Druid Ober Balronen called his inner circle of advisers into a meeting, the subject of which he refused to reveal until all were assembled. It was typical of him to be coy about the purposes of these clandestine gatherings, which were routinely limited to a few trusted supporters. Darcon Leah stood against the wall behind the High Druid’s chair and faced the seven gathered about the long table. It was a familiar cluster of faces, but that didn’t mean he could afford to relax his vigilance. Though he doubted any would try to harm the High Druid, he was positioned so he could act instantly if one of them attempted to prove him wrong. It was his job, after all, as the High Druid’s Blade, to do so.
And with men and women as fickle and mercurial as these, you never took anything for granted.
Balronen had not yet appeared, preferring as always to be the last to enter. He reveled in the authority he commanded, and never missed an opportunity to let others know it. He was more a schemer than he was a strong, inspirational leader. He led from behind, as those in the Druid Guard liked to joke among themselves—although they never did so in anything but the Troll language and never to Balronen’s face. He was not well liked by the guard, who missed Drisker Arc’s relaxed, casual approach to command and detested Balronen’s constant manipulations.