Grabbing a ragged piece of brush, she pulled herself up a particularly steep area and found herself unexpectedly in a hollow that hadn’t been visible from below. A small smokeless fire burned near a bedroll. The rather large, lank wolf turned amber eyes to her and swayed his tail in casual welcome.
Since he wasn’t using it, she seated herself on the bedroll and rested her chin on her raised knees. Casually, she threw a few more sticks onto the fire, leaving it for him to break the silence. Typically, he explained nothing but questioned her instead.
“Tell me about the camp.” His voice was mildly curious.
“Why? You’ve been here much longer than I have.”
He shook his head. “I just want to know what you see—how much I need to explain to you.”
“Well,” she began, “there has been a camp here for several months, probably starting in the spring. Originally, the person or people who started it didn’t know much about camping in the woods, so I’d guess that they weren’t locals. It looks like someone is in the process of reorganizing camp. If I were a gamester, I would place gold that Myr is the reorganizer—since I suspect you wouldn’t bother.” She looked to the wolf for confirmation.
Wolf nodded, and Aralorn continued to speak.
“From what I can tell, most of these people came with not much more than the clothes on their backs. There are what, maybe fifty people here?”
“Fifty-four with you,” Wolf replied.
“Then over a third of them are children. There is no common class among them. I’ve seen peasants, townsfolk, and several aristocrats. The children are, as far as I’ve seen, without family. They are almost all Rethian.” Aralorn lay back and made herself comfortable. “They have all the earmarks of refugees, and I’d lay my last gold that they are running from the ae’Magi.”
Wolf grunted an affirmative.
“How did they all get here, though? I could see northerners finding this valley, but I heard southern Reth accents, too.”
“You, of all people, should know the reputation of the northern mountains,” replied Wolf.
Aralorn frowned at him. “I saw you transport the merchant, and my understanding is that teleportation is a difficult, high-level spell. And you managed it in the Northlands.”
Wolf shook his head. “I wouldn’t have tried it this far north even if we weren’t worried about the ae’Magi finding the valley. Small spells seem unhampered here, but more delicate spells are harder to control. Some people it affects more than others—the ae’Magi won’t travel even as far as the northern lands in Reth. It doesn’t seem to have much effect on my magic”—he nodded at the fire, which flared up, dancing wildly with purple and gold flames—“but I wouldn’t have bet even the merchant’s life on it; so we traveled south.”
“The stories about that aspect of the Northlands are common enough, even in southern Reth,” agreed Aralorn. She gave him a look. “I suppose that this area would be a good place to run to if you were trying to hide from a human magician.”
“I”—he hesitated a minute, and Aralorn got the distinct feeling that he changed what he was going to say—“previously located this valley as a possible refuge although I never intended to set up a camp of this size here.”
He gazed with an air of bemusement over the camp. “I don’t know how these people found this valley in particular. You can ask, but everyone has a different story. It is unreasonable that fifty people, most of whom have never been a mile away from their own front doors, would wander blithely into a hanging valley that would be hard for a forester or trapper to find.”
After a slight pause, he continued, “As you speculated, they are all running from the ae’Magi in a manner of speaking—the way that you would have been fleeing from Sianim if you had made a few more negative comments about the ae’Magi. Most of them were driven from their villages by the townspeople.
“Except for Myr, everyone in camp can work a little magic. The adults didn’t have enough ability to be trained as magicians and escaped the ae’Magi’s control that way. The children are young enough that they had not yet been sent for training.”
“How far does that control go?” she asked him. “Are they his puppets?”
“No more than Ren or any of the other nonmages who do as he wants. He just takes away the advantage their magic gives them, and so they only see what he wants them to see.”
Aralorn turned until she faced him. “Why aren’t you under his control?” She expected him to avoid answering as he usually did when her questions became too pointed.
But Wolf moved in a lupine version of a shrug. “I either broke the ties of the binding, or I wasn’t in training long enough. I am not sure which.”
Aralorn and Wolf sat in silence, watching the camp stir in the valley below them. Aralorn stretched her feet out to the fire, which still flared uneasily, as if waiting for another command.
Watching the red play of flame reflected on her feet in the dim light, she ventured another question. “How long have you been helping Myr?”
She noticed with self-directed amusement that her tone was disinterested, revealing none of the jealousy she felt. It had surprised her to feel resentful of Myr, but Wolf was hers. When she found out that not only was there someone else close to him but that Wolf had revealed himself as a human mage to him—it bothered her.
Wolf spoke slowly. “I have been looking for a way to move against the ae’Magi for a long time. It came to my attention that Myr didn’t hold the ae’Magi in the same esteem that most people do: Apparently, Myr is not susceptible to magic. I am still not sure what use he will be against the ae’Magi, but it seemed prudent to watch him. At first I did little more than observe, but after Myr’s parents were killed, I introduced myself and offered my help. For the most part, all that I did was offer advice and block a few spells that might have resulted in fatal accidents.”
“Accidents like a carriage overturning unexpectedly,” offered Aralorn, remembering Myr’s parents.
Wolf nodded. “Or an archer’s arrow going astray, things that immunity to magic does not shield against. I am not sure if I helped much in the end. The last attack that the ae’Magi set against Myr was more subtle. Did you hear what happened?”
Aralorn shook her head. “The first thing that I heard about it was back at the inn, when some messengers from the capital rode in and spouted nonsense. Myr was supposedly crazed with grief and attacked one of his own men.”
Wolf snorted. “Myr was in his private courtyard in the palace when he was attacked by an elemental—a lucky choice for Myr, as most of an elemental’s ability to harm is magical.” So maybe she’d convinced the ae’Magi that Myr wasn’t immune to magic, or maybe he was testing it.
Wolf continued with the story. “They made enough noise that I went out to investigate. I think that Myr would have won even if I hadn’t been there.” Wolf shrugged. “When it was dead, the demon transformed into a more mundane creature—one of Myr’s personal guards. We were still standing over the body when the better part of the castle guard ran into the courtyard. They attacked, and we managed to flee. Here is where we’ve been ever since.”
“What now?” asked Aralorn, drawing pictures in the dirt near the blankets.
Wolf let out a sound that passed as a laugh. “Now, Myr is trying desperately to prepare this camp for winter, and I am trying to find a way that I can move against the ae’Magi.” He paused, then said in a tone that reeked of frustration, “It’s not that I don’t have the power. It is the training I lack. Most of what little I do know I’ve learned myself, and it’s not enough. If I could find just one of the old magicians not under his spell, I could find something to use against him. Instead, I have to wade through piles of books that may be utterly useless.”