Cold Magic by Kate Elliott

Author:Kate Elliott [Elliott, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: SteamPunk, Fiction, Fantasy, Historical, General, Epic
ISBN: 9780316080873
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2011-07-25T14:00:00+00:00

21

I slipped out in his wake, as we sailing folk like to say. He walked with the rangy stride of a man accustomed to treks through trackless countryside. He handed me a wool cloak, its weave coarse and scratchy.

"Put this on over the other. Such fine cloth marks you from a distance."

Willi the homespun cloak concealing my form, I passed through the inner gate beside Duvai without incident. The stripling was waiting in the shadow of a long thatched shelter where slabs of frozen meal hung from the rafters. He handed a pack and gear to Duvai and a smaller pack to me.

"I can come—" he began brightly.

"An obedient son brings wood to his mother's hearth," remarked Duvai. The lad took the hint and with a sigh of resignation watched us go.

Duvai knew the land and the season. The barest hint of gray lightened the snowy landscape as we crossed the outer gate. If there were wolves in the shadows, they faded as day crept out from the thicket of night. Snow crunched under our feet.

"Anyone can follow our trail," I said, glancing behind at the footprints leading away.

He said nothing, just kept walking southeast in a direction that led us away from both the House and the toll road. He set a strong pace, but I had long legs and the strength to keep up.

Maybe he was testing me, for by the time we reached the edge of the land cleared and husbanded by the village, I was warm despite the cold. We halted beneath the snow-kissed branches of spruce. He knelt, scooped up a palmful of crisp snow, and blew it back the way we had come, a scatter of misted breath and a sparkle. A wind skirled over the ground, whipping the grass and rustling in the skeletal arms of the orchard. It rolled back over our footprints and, like the sweep of a brush, erased them.

"Are you a cold mage, too?" I demanded, stunned by this display.

He rose. "I am no c6ld mage. A good hunter must understand what lies around him. That is all. Best we go quickly and make distance."

We walked, Duvai in the lead and me three steps behind.

"Why do you have two hats?" I asked his back. "I mean, what did you mean by that?"

"I was speaking of Andevai. He tries to wear two hats, but no man can. He must be a magister of the House or a son of this village. He cannot be both."

"Why not? Can a person be only one thing?"

"A person must know what he is."

"Be what you are," I murmured, echoing the eru's words.

"To be what you are is the kernel at the core of every person," he agreed. He strode at a pace that would tire me in time, but I was determined to show no weakness. In a way, Kayleigh had done me a favor by giving me that sleep in the warmth of her mother's house.

"What illness eats at your mother?" I asked.

"She is not my mother," said Duvai.

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