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“The clan leaders realized that the only way we could win against the Skin Clan was to use their greatest abilities against them. Once the Skin Clan became immortal, they ordered all their bastards killed. We started to hide away healthy babies, offering up stillborn and deformed infants in their place. They were protected by the clan so that they could protect the clan.”

Tooloo had told her a version of this, only somehow not as noble, not so desperate. Quick Blade, Windwolf’s great-grandfather, had been one of the babies hidden away and died fighting for his adopted clan’s freedom.

“After we won the war with the Skin Clan, we suffered a thousand years of war between ourselves. Clan against Clan. Caste against Caste. Elf against Elf. We had lived so long in slavery that we had no idea how to be free. It was the sekasha that held us together — they demanded that the clan structure should be maintained when the other castes would have abandoned it.”

“I would have thought it was the domana that would kept the clans intact.”

“The other castes feared that we would become cruel monsters like our fathers. The sekasha guards us — from harm and from ourselves. More than one domana has been put down by his own Hand.”

“Why did sekasha want the domana in charge instead of just taking power themselves?”

It was as if Windwolf never considered the “why” of it. He frowned and thought for minute. “I am not sure. It is the way they wanted it. Perhaps it was because with the domana’s access to the spell stones, the sekashas’ choices were limited to putting the domana in power, destroying the stones, or killing all the domana. While they are sekasha first, they are fiercely loyal to their clans. It is their nature to be so. And as such, it would go against their nature to weaken their clan.”

“So the spell stones and the domana stayed.”

Windwolf nodded. “And we have had what passes as peace for thousands of years — because of the sekasha.”

Tinker glanced over to where Pony and Stormsong stood. Close enough to protect. Far enough away to give her and Windwolf a sense of privacy. Who was really in charge? On the surface, it would seem she was — but if she was — why was she stuck with sekasha watching her when she rather be alone?

“In the Westernlands, the Wind Clan has only the Spell Stones at Aum Renau.” Windwolf returned to his magic lesson. “On the other side of the ocean, there are many other sets. They are arranged so that our clan can travel widely and stay within range of a set.”

“What’s the range of a set?”

“The stones can reach one mei; Pittsburgh is one third mei from the coast.”

It finally explained one mysterious elfin measurement. Unlike human measurements which were exact, the mei was said to be roughly a thousand human miles but subject to change. At Aum Renau, Windwolf had shown her how he cast a trigger spell. It set up a quantum level resonance between him and the spell stones, in essence a conduit for the magic to follow. Power jumped the distance. It had been his demonstration at Aum Renau that had given her the idea of how to destroy both gates. Magic, though, could be influenced by the moon’s orbit and other factors, so the exact distance would be variable — which fit the quantum-based system.

The distance limit also explained why only two clans were coming to help them deal with the oni.

“So, the Stone Clan and Fire Clan have a set of stones within a mei?”

“Yes.”

“And spell stones from different clans can overlap.” Tinker wanted to be sure she had it right.

“Yes. The domana’s genetic key determines which one they pull from. The spells are slightly different. In the terms of battle, the Stone Clan is much weaker in attack, but they are superior in defense. Their specialty is mining, farming and architecture.”

Architecture was the forefather of engineering. It kind of made sense — her being Stone Clan and a genius in the hard science.

“Do we actually fight with them?”

“Yes and no. There has been no open warfare between the clans for two thousand years, not since the Fire Clan established the monarchy. To a human, that might be seem like lasting peace, but my father saw battle as a young man, and our battles have merely become more covert. Fighting is limited to assassinations and formal duels.”

The concept of elves wanting her dead was somewhat unnerving.

“You are under the Queen’s protection,” Windwolf continued. “So you will be fairly safe from the other clans for the time being. I want to teach you, however, a shielding spell so you can defend yourself.”

“Oh cool.”

He laughed and distanced himself from the Rolls. “Have you been taught the rituals of prayer?”

She nodded.

“Good. First you must find your center, just as you do for a ritual.” He stood straight and took a deep cleansing breath.

“Hold your fingers such.” He held out his right hand, thumb and index rigid, middle fingers cocked oddly.

She copied the position and he made minute changes to her fingers.

“Each finger has several degrees. Laedin.” He tucked her index finger into a tight curl, and then, gliding his finger along the top of hers, showed her that there needed to be a straight line from the back of her hand to the knuckle. “Sekasha.” He uncurled her finger to the second knuckle and corrected a slight tendency to bend at the first knuckle. “Domana.” He had to hold her finger straight so she only bent the tip. “Full Royal.” This was a stiff finger.

“Bows to no one,” Tinker said.

“Exactly. You must be careful with your hands. A broken finger can leave you defenseless.”

“The first step is to call on the Spell Stones. You use a full suit — king and queen” these were thumb and pinkie held straight out “Domana, sekasha, laedin.”

Tinker laughed as she tried to get her fingers to cooperate.

“There are finger games you can play to get them to do this fluidly.” He patiently corrected small mistakes in her hands. “In the base spells, correct positioning is not as vital, but later, a finger out of place will totally change the effect of your spell.”

“This does get easier?”

“Yes, with practice.”

“To calls winds and cast the spells, you need to hold your hand before your mouth.” He raised his hand to his mouth and demonstrated the desired distance and then dropped his hand to continue speaking. “Don’t touch your face with your hand, but you should feel as if you’re almost touching your nose. Also if you were to breathe out, like you blowing out a candle, the center point of your breath would hit this center joint of your fingers.”

“Okay.” She held up her hand and found it was harder to not touch her nose than she thought.

“When I was little, my brothers and I would practice fighting with each other and in the heat of battle, sometimes we ended up punching ourselves in the nose.”

Tinker laughed.

“Now, listen to the command to call the winds, and then to cancel.” He raised his right hand to his mouth. “Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaae.”

Tinker felt the tremor in the air around Windwolf, like a pulse of a bass amplifier, first against her magic sense, and then against her skin.

Mentally, she knew that his body was taking the place of a written spell; his voice started the resonance that would establish a link between him and the spell stones, over three hundred miles away. Despite everything she knew, his summoning of power out of thin air somehow seemed more magical than any act she ever witnessed.