Wild Magic. Tamora Pierce

on his tea to cool it. ‘Alanna witched them so they’d fit.’ He regarded his boots with a wistful grin. ‘Nobody else had a pair even near big enough.’

      ‘What about your own magic?’ Onua asked.

      ‘I’m dry for the moment. Tapped out.’ His voice was midrange for a man’s, warm and a little hesitant – nice to listen to, Daine thought. She kept her eyes away from him as she wrestled with her leatherwork.

      A pair of large hands came into her field of vision to hold the strap while she set the final stitches.

      ‘Thanks,’ she whispered, blushing.

      ‘You look different.’

      Startled, she looked up into long, shadowy eyes. ‘What?’

      He smiled. ‘You were a lot bigger.’

      She grinned in spite of her shyness. ‘Seems to me you was a bit smaller, now I think of it.’

      The strap was fixed. He gave it back and returned to his seat on the log. ‘I’d be dead if it weren’t for you. You’re called Daine?’

      She nodded.

      ‘I’m glad to meet you, Daine. I’m Numair Salmalín.’

      ‘I thought it was Arram.’

      His eyes flicked to Onua and back to her. ‘Arram’s my boyhood name. I go by Numair now.’

      Daine took the hint. ‘The honour’s mine, Master Numair.’ Then, because she had to know, she asked, ‘Why didn’t you change back?’

      ‘I was stuck.’

       ‘Stuck?’

      ‘When Sinthya caught me, his mage fed me drugs. I panicked, and shape-shifted. I didn’t remember I was full of all the drugs it takes to knock out somebody my size.’

      ‘You’re lucky they didn’t kill you,’ Onua pointed out.

      ‘You’re right. By the time you found me, I couldn’t tell ground from air any more. The food you offered? I didn’t know it was food. Not that I was able to keep anything down.’ He sipped the tea. ‘It’ll be a long time before I take hawk shape again.’

      ‘That’s why you had funny eyes,’ breathed Daine. ‘And that’s why you made me dizzy.’

      ‘I wanted to ask you about that. Onua says you got sick, disoriented. I can’t understand how. She says you don’t have the Gift—’

      ‘Odd’s bobs!’ Daine snapped. Would all her new friends harp on that one thing, like Ma? ‘I don’t see why this Gift is so grand. It comes and goes. You can’t do too much at once, and you need all kinds of rules. It’s more trouble than it’s worth.’ She got up. ‘But whenever I turn round, somebody asks if I have it. I’m good with animals – isn’t that enough?’ Furious, not knowing there were tears on her cheeks, she stamped off into the woods.

      Numair looked at Onua. ‘What did I say?’

      The K’mir sighed and put down her work. ‘Her mother was a hedgewitch.’ (She meant someone with basic Gifts, taught by other hedgewitches, never hoping to be more than village healer-midwives.) ‘She and Daine’s grandfather were killed by raiders in January. She wanted Daine to have the Gift, not just whatever she has with animals. Fool woman kept testing her, as if she thought the girl would develop it overnight. I’d better go after her.’

      ‘No – when she cools off, I’ll go. You and Alanna were right. She has real power. Not the Gift, though.’ He tapped a pair of twigs together, looking thoughtful. ‘It’s wild magic, pure and simple. She’s brimming with it. I’ve never seen a human with so much.’

      ‘You felt it then.’

      He smiled. ‘I felt it when I was a bird, half-crazy and dying.’

      Onua sighed. ‘Be careful with her, Arram. She’s hurting.’

      ‘I will.’ He rose, unfolding his length with a groan. ‘Use Numair, will you? I know you trust Daine, but there’s no telling who else might overhear. I still have enemies in Carthak who’d like to know where I am.’

      Onua made a face. ‘You’re right – Numair.’

      He grinned. ‘Come on – what great sorcerer has a name like Arram Draper? I have to have a name to fit my calling, don’t you think?’

      ‘All mages are Players at heart, I swear. Can’t do magic unless you have all kinds of robes and props and a big audience to cheer you.’ She waved him off and returned to her work, smiling.

      Numair found Daine greeting a woodchuck, and stayed in the trees to watch. The girl lay on the ground, her eyes on a level with the chuck’s. The animal stood on his hind legs, chattering to her. She giggled, then offered a hand: the chuck snuggled against it for a moment. Then he chirped a farewell and trotted off into the bush.

      Numair came forward slowly. ‘He seemed to have a lot to say.’

      Daine was thinking about the chuck, how nice he was after the monsters two nights before. ‘Oh, it’s the usual spring talk. Freshening up the burrow, getting nice-smelling leaves. I told him where to find some wild mint.’ Her memory returned, and she felt her cheeks get hot. ‘Master Numair, I—’

      He smiled. ‘No offence taken – if you stop calling me “Master”. If I’m to help with the ponies the rest of the way, we may as well use first names.’

      ‘Is Onua cross with me? For losing my temper?’

      He shook his head. The motion popped open the tie that held his black locks, and it fell. ‘Gods bless it …’

      Daine came to help him look. By the time they found the tie, she’d forgotten to be nervous with him. ‘It’s easier if you wet it before using it on your hair,’ she explained as they returned to camp. ‘When it dries, then it shrinks.’

      ‘Good advice. Your hair gives you trouble?’

      ‘Oh, Goddess, my hair’s so dratted thick I don’t even bother with ties.’ She giggled suddenly. ‘This is a very strange talk we’re having.’

      He grinned down at her. ‘Boys worry just as much about their looks as girls do. We only hide it better.’

      ‘Seriously?’ she asked, delighted. Living with only Grandda and Ma, away from the males of the village, she’d begun to think young men were totally alien.

      ‘Seriously,’ he assured her. ‘You should see the lotions I put on my hair to get it to behave.’ He winked at Onua when they reached the campfire.

      Onua and Daine spent the next day exercising the ponies and practising hand-to-hand combat, something Onua said a woman alone should know. Numair dozed, mended his spare shirt, or did exercises with the arm that had been broken. ‘Is he up to the road?’ Daine asked during one of his naps. She kept her voice low – he was stretched out under a nearby tree. ‘He maybe should ride, but he’s too big for the ponies.’

      ‘We’ll take it easy,’ the K’mir replied. ‘Alanna laid a slow healing on him, to fix the arm and build his strength. She said in two or three days he’ll be fine.’

      ‘Did you know him, from before?’

      ‘We’re old friends.’ Seeing the look on Daine’s face, Onua said, ‘Not that kind of friend! He goes for shapely blondes, and I like a man that likes horses. No, our hawk took pity on me when I didn’t know anyone but the queen and Buri. If he likes you, he’s the best of friends. Horse Lords help you if you get on his bad side.’ Seeing that Daine looked puzzled, she explained, ‘He is the most powerful sorcerer in Tortall.’

      Daine stared. A boyish man who talked hair-ties? Looking over, she saw a butterfly hovering over Numair’s long nose. ‘Him?’