Seraph smiled. “No. You are Cormorant—Weather Witch. Not everyone knows when a storm is coming, Rinnie.”
“What about Jes and Papa… and Aunt Alinath?” asked Rinnie eagerly. “Lehr is Falcon, and that makes him a hunter, right? What do Falcons and Cormorants get to do if they can’t build fires?”
“Papa and Aunt Alinath aren’t Travelers,” said Lehr.
“We’re only half, and we have Orders,” Rinnie defended herself hotly.
Seraph held up her hand. “Hold a moment. Let’s see. Uhm. Yes. Lehr is right, the Orders belong only to Travelers. Or that’s what I always thought until I met your Papa. Tier is Owl—that means Bard. I’ve thought about it a lot over the years, but the only explanation I have is this: the old Raven who was my teacher told me that the Orders cannot be bred for as we breed for certain traits in horses. They attach to someone suitable to their purposes at the moment of birth.” She smiled to herself. Her old teacher, Arvage, would have been outraged at the mere suggestion that an Order would attach itself to someone outside the Traveler clans.
She cleared her throat and continued, “In the Traveling clans, the Owl is responsible for keeping the history of the clans because one of their talents is for memory. But the Owl holds music, too—and music has always been a part of Tier.
“You had some more questions.” Seraph clucked her tongue to her teeth as she checked her memory. “Falcons track and have some affinity for weaponry. Cormorants can predict—and, if they are careful, control the weather. There are more things, but I don’t know them all. Some things vary from person to person; these things you will have to discover for yourself. Others”—she shrugged—“we might eventually have to find someone to teach you.”
“What about Aunt Alinath?” Rinnie asked again.
“Your aunt is exactly what she appears—a solsenti baker.”
“What does solsenti mean?” asked Jes abruptly.
“Stupid people,” said Rinnie with smug wisdom. “Especially Aunt Alinath.”
Seraph said, “Quit snickering, Lehr. In Traveler’s speech solsenti means someone who’s blind or crippled, but most of us use it to refer to anyone who is not of Traveler blood. Now, what else did you ask, Rinnie?”
“Jes,” said Rinnie.
“Jes is Guardian.”
“And Guardian is furthest from human,” Jes broke in bitterly. “They took the spirit of a demon and bound it to their will. In the night I am this.” He stood up and let his cloak fall so he stood before them all, revealed in the light Rinnie held. For a moment he was as human seeming as any of them, but then his shape flowed and darkened. A panther the size of Gura stood before them, his eyes gold flecked with an eldritch light.
It was the speed of the change that Seraph used to gauge whether what she saw was illusion or real. This time she was pretty certain the panther was solid and not created of her fears.
“The Guardian is the caretaker of the clan,” said Seraph calmly. “Where danger threatens, in the forests, in the darkness, he adapts to protect us. No magic works on him except his own. In the daytime—and I’m not talking about just when the sun is up, but in safety—the Guardian sleeps, taking part of Jes with him.”
Rinnie gave the light back to Lehr and walked all the way around Jes with wide eyes. Seraph could see her son cringe under that steady gaze, though he moved not a hair—but she had more confidence in Rinnie than Jes did.
“You’re beautiful,” said her daughter in awe, reaching out to touch the grey-black coat.
Lehr watched the cat narrowly, then laughed. “What, did you expect us all to shriek and run away, Jes? No one raised around Aunt Alinath could be afraid of a mere demon.”
“I don’t get to turn into a panther either?” asked Rinnie plaintively as she sat down next to Jes.
“No, only Jes,” replied Seraph.
Lehr frowned. “If I’d known about this, I wouldn’t have gotten so mad at you when you took off for the forest all the time,” he said to Jes. “I suspect it’ll take a few days for all of us to understand what Mother’s told us tonight.” He paused, then said the important thing. “I think you need to know that I’m glad you are my brother, day or night.”
“Don’t I even get fangs?” asked Rinnie.
The cat let out a huff of laughter and shifted back into a more familiar form. “No, Rinnie. No fangs for you.” He reached over and ruffled her hair. “But don’t worry. If you want me to bite someone for you, I will.”
Jes settled back on his heels, though he didn’t relax enough to sit. “Papa told me I should tell all of you, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want you to be afraid of me.”
Seraph frowned at him, “You know better than that,” she said. “No matter what they really think, they’re going to be a little afraid.” Turning to the rest of them she explained, “Dread is one of the gifts of the Guardian. If he wants to, he can panic horses or wild game. But just his very presence will make people nervous. It’s not that you are afraid of him, but that he triggers your fears.”
Seraph smiled at a sudden clear memory. “My oldest brother was Guardian,” she said. “He had a wicked sense of humor. He used to stalk people through the forest. They’d arrive at our camp panting in fear and trying not to show it, because there had been nothing to be afraid of. My grandfather used to scold him so.” She shook her head in amusement at the memory of the bent old man shaking his finger at her brother, so fierce and large. He could have broken the old man with a single blow, but instead he’d stand there, head bowed as his grandfather chastised him—and a few weeks later another terrified wanderer would approach their camp.
“That’s why Olbeck ran,” said Rinnie. “Jes really did frighten him away.”
Seraph nodded. “If it was only the dread, he’ll remember that he ran, but not why he was afraid. It’ll make him angry. He’ll have to prove himself. Be careful.”
“Mother,” said Lehr. “Why are you telling us about the Orders, now?”
“It’s that priest the new Sept brought back from Taela,” Seraph said.
“I don’t like him,” said Jes abruptly.
“Have you met him?” asked Seraph, surprised; Jes hardly ever went into the city.
“I saw him once riding with the new Sept’s hunting party,” he answered. “I don’t like him.”
“Good,” she said. “I’d like you all to avoid him if you can. There’s something… odd about him.”
“What?” asked Lehr with a sudden grin. “Does he turn into panthers or call light out of nothing?”
She smiled back, but shook her head. “He worries me.” She explained what the priest had told her about his beliefs.
Lehr shook his head when she was done. “You mean a whole bunch of solsenti—possibly solsenti wizards, from the magic they’ve used to light their temple—have started a religion based on the Travelers’ Orders?”
She nodded. “I thought you ought to know the truth of what you are before he managed somehow to corner you and feed you the muddle he and his religion have been brewing.” She hesitated. “I should have told you sooner—and there’s one other thing. I’ve never worried over it before because Travelers don’t believe in fate the way those who live here do.” And because Tier had always made her feel as if no evil could ever befall them. “For generations the Orders have been fading from the Travelers. Yet, from the marriage of Traveler and an Ordered solsenti, the first Ordered solsenti I’ve ever heard of, comes three Ordered children? My grandfather said, ‘Where great gifts are given great evils come.’ I want you all to be careful.”
Jes flowed to his feet, all of his attention toward home. “Mother, there’s someone riding into the farm.”
CHAPTER 5
Even from the vantage point of the knoll behind thehouse, Seraph could only pick out vague shadows of horses near the porch, but Jes said, “It’s the steward and a man in the Sept’s colors—ah, him. I think it’s the Sept’s huntsman himself, Mother.”