Micah or the end of Magic. Chapter 8.

Chapter 8 .

 

Explanations.

 

“Now,” said Calizone, turning to Grace, “I sense that you are magic.”

Grace opened her mouth to protest, but Calizone raised a hand.

“I don’t mean that you use magic. That is obvious, you can touch the dragon‑skin box. No, I mean that you yourself are magic, in the same way the wraiths and the dragons are. I have never met a human who is magic in that way.”

Grace took a deep breath. “I didn’t know I was magic,” she said. “But I can tell you the story of my people, as it was told to me by my grandmother, and to her by her grandmother, and so on back into the distant past. It might explain it.”

“I am all ears,” said Calizone.

“Me too,” said Micah. “I didn’t know there was a difference between being magic and using it.”

“There is a great deal of difference,” Calizone said. “Now be quiet and listen.”

Grace nodded and began.

“Many years ago, my people lived in another world. They were nomads who wandered from place to place, much as we do now. But they were not fortune‑tellers then, nor any of the other things my people can do today. They were storytellers.

“They travelled from village to village, town to town, manor house to manor house. Only the Nomad women told the stories. It was said they could take something as insubstantial as a wisp of smoke and make it seem as real and solid as flesh. People called them Weavers of Smoke.

“At a time when there was little entertainment, these storytellers were welcomed everywhere. When the tale was finished, the Nomad men would pass around a bag, and people would drop in a coin or two.”

Grace paused, then continued.

“The king of one particular land was very suspicious of these wandering storytellers. Like many tyrants, he believed people were plotting to overthrow him. He thought the storytellers were carrying messages for these plotters, hidden inside their stories.”

“Were they?” Calizone interrupted.

Grace shook her head. “The story doesn’t say. But the king also believed the tales made people unhappy with their lives. He didn’t care whether their lives were good or bad, only that they stayed quiet and obedient. He feared rebellion.

“So, he declared the storytellers outlaws. He offered a reward for information about them and sent soldiers to arrest them.

“The reward tempted many poor people, and the punishment for not reporting the storytellers was harsh. Most of the time, people did report them, but often warned them first that soldiers were coming. Even so, life became very difficult for the storytellers, and slowly, almost all of them were captured.”

Micah frowned. “What happened to them? That king sounds as if he could be very harsh.”

“They had their wagons and horses taken away,” Grace said. “They were forced to live in guarded camps and not allowed to leave. The story doesn’t say what happened to them in the end. But the storytelling stopped. Without a way to earn money, the last few weavers of smoke were starving and desperate.

“Soon, only a small group remained, a mother, her three daughters, and their male cousins. They fled deeper and deeper into the Great Forest, which covered much of the land. When their wagons could go no further, they released the horses and went on foot.

“They travelled until they came to a line of tall bushes. No matter how they pushed, they couldn’t get through.”

Calizone sat up straighter. “I think I know where this is going.”

“Well, I don’t,” said Micah. “Please carry on.”

Grace continued.

“There was an argument, so the men went one way and the women the other, both searching for a way through. All the while, they could hear the soldiers crashing through the forest behind them.

“As luck would have it, the women found a gap in the bushes. The mother, Marita, went through first. She vanished.

“The three girls squeaked in horror. But before they could do anything, Marita came back through the bushes, much faster than she had gone in.

They crowded around her.

 ‘That was very odd,’ she said. ‘I was in a forest like this one, but the trees were different, and the sky too. And the sun was in the wrong place. Then something forced me out. I couldn’t stay.’

“‘Let me try,’ said Bellia, the eldest daughter. She pushed through the gap and disappeared. A few minutes later she returned. ‘It seems that other place does not want us,’ she said.

While the women were discussing what to do next, they heard a great deal of noise from the direction the men had gone. Marita’s brother came running towards them.

“Hide!” he gasped. “The soldiers are right behind me. The others have been taken.”

The four women pushed through the gap in the bushes as quickly as they could. Marita’s brother did not follow immediately, and before he could, the soldiers burst into the clearing and seized him. They tied his hands behind his back and dragged him away. Others began searching along the bushes for the women.

Fortunately, the soldiers were out of sight when the women were forced to return through the bushes. They could hear shouting in the distance, and the noise grew louder, the soldiers were coming back.

Once again, the women pushed through the bushes. As they did, four deer came crashing through the gap and fled into the world where the soldiers were searching. The women heard the soldiers shouting in astonishment at the sudden appearance of four terrified deer.

The women stood very still, waiting for the strange force to push them back out again. But nothing happened. This side of the bushes no longer rejected them.

Then they realised they were not alone.

A small group of men were walking along the line of bushes towards them. The women were trapped. They could not go back, the soldiers were still on the other side.

Before they could react, the newcomers surrounded them. They carried bows, but none had arrows drawn, and their knives remained sheathed.

“Well, this is something new,” said one of the men. “What happened to our deer? And more importantly, where have you ladies sprung from?”

Marita stepped forward. As she looked at the man, she suddenly knew his name, where he came from, his wife’s name, his children, everything. She also knew he was a good, honest man.

She blurted out his name without thinking.

The man stepped back. “How do you know my name? I’m sure we’ve never met.”

“I don’t know,” Marita said. “I just looked at you and knew all sorts of things, your name, your family, everything. I’ve never done that before.”

“A witch,” muttered one of the hunters.

“No, no,” Marita protested. “We came through the bushes from another world. We were being chased by soldiers who want to arrest us.”

“What have you done to make them want to take you prisoner?” the first man asked.

“Nothing,” Marita said. “We are storytellers. But the king of our land thinks we are dangerous. He ordered that all our people be locked away so we can no longer tell stories. We came through the bushes, but each time we were pushed back, until your deer came running through. Then we found we could stay.”

Walter, the chief hunter, nodded. “We’ve seen this before. Usually, the deer come back after a few minutes, confused and easy to catch.”

He turned to his companions. “Looks like we’ve lost our supper.”

The hunters spoke quietly among themselves, then Walter returned.

“You’d better come with us to our camp. The elders can decide what to do with you.”

He led them to where their horses were tied. One horse was restless, pawing the ground and snorting. Without thinking, Bella went to soothe it.

“Careful,” warned the owner. “He’s in a foul mood today. He might bite.”

“He won’t hurt me,” Bella said, stroking the horse’s neck. The animal quietened at once. “This poor creature has toothache.”

She paused. “I knew as soon as I touched him. He told me. I’ve never done that before. If you want, I can keep him calm while you look in his mouth.”

The owner gently opened the horse’s mouth and peered inside.

“Aha!” he said, pulling out a twig. “No wonder he was in pain. Thank you. I should have checked, but he likes to bite.”

Another hunter stepped forward, his arm in a sling. Laughing, he asked if Bella could tell what was wrong with him. She shook her head.

“I can only understand horses,” she said.

Neola stepped forward timidly and touched the man’s arm. “It’s broken,” she said. She stroked it gently for a few moments. The man’s face lit up.

“The pain’s gone!” he exclaimed.

Neola shook her head. “I’ve never done that before.”

Walter turned to Zandia. “And you? Do you have a special talent?”

Zandia shook her head. “I don’t think so. But if we’re going to your camp, we should hurry. It’s going to rain, very heavily, and very soon.”

She frowned. “That’s odd. Somehow I know what the weather is going to do. I’ve never been able to do that before.”

Calizone nodded. “Crossing between worlds does change things. The dragons here came from the other world as ordinary lizards and became magic. I wonder what happened to those four deer. They would have changed too. No one has ever mentioned magic deer before. Go on.”

“There isn’t much more,” Grace said. “The hunters took the women to their camp, where they were welcomed. As Zandia predicted, the heavens opened just as they arrived. She looked at the sky and said it would soon stop and be sunny for the rest of the day, and she was right.

“The women stayed with the hunters for a while, but they were used to travelling and found it hard to stay in one place. The hunters generously gave them a cart and two horses, and they set off to explore their new home.

“Wherever they went, they were welcomed. People were delighted to have their fortunes told, their broken limbs mended, their horses cured, and the weather predicted.

“Eventually, all four women found husbands. With the money they earned, they bought more horses and wagons. Soon they had children, but only the girls inherited the gifts. None of the boys ever did.”

Grace finished with a small smile. “My people have been wandering this world ever since.”

Calizone nodded. “You may be pleased to know that the gap in the trees is very close to this cottage. There’s a gate there now, instead of a hole in the hedge.”

Grace clapped her hands. “I’ve always wanted to see where my ancestors came from. Please, can we go?”

“All in good time,” Calizone said. “All in good time.”