After they leave Namorn, Daja tries hard to stop thinking about Rizu. The others are in and out of her head again, now that their connection has been reforged, and that helps, at least for a while. After all, they each have demons to purge and nightmares to share with each other, from Namorn and from their time apart, and Daja has a new forge and a steady stream of clients to occupy her. Still, some nights when she visits the bathhouse, or some mornings when she wakes, her heart clenches and she can't shake the image of Rizu’s face from behind her eyelids, even with her eyes squeezed shut.
Tris cheers her up with tales from Lightsbridge, of arrogant student mages who can't see how the world really is, even when it's in front of their noses. Briar proposes a project - creating shakkan trees of living metal - and sometimes quietly tells her about things he'd rather forget, too. Sandry brings her spiced cakes from the market, makes her tunics and scarves in oranges and golds, and makes Daja laugh with her efforts to play matchmaker between her Uncle and Yasmín, Pasco’s dance teacher.
On the days when Daja can't face anyone else at all, she goes to Frostpine’s forge, where she can sink into the metals and her magic and think of nothing else. She might have owned her own house for more than two years, but Frostpine’s forge in the temple still feels like home. So when Frostpine turns to her one morning and asks if she's thought about travelling some more, Daja can't help but feel a small pang of rejection. ‘Travelling?’ she asks, trying to sound flippant. ‘Why would I? I've only just got back, really.’
It turns out that Frostpine has an old friend, a silversmith, who lives in the north-west of Capchen. ‘Her name is Linna Ebbeflut - She's asked me for help,’ he tells Daja, ‘but… Well, let's just say that the last time I saw her, things got complicated.’ He ducks his head as Daja raises an eyebrow at him. ‘And in any case, I think she may have need of your skill with living metal. And she works silver like nobody else - there's a lot you can learn from her.’
Carrot and stick, Daja thinks, amused. But as Frostpine explains how he thinks she could help, and that she needn’t be there too long so she’ll be back by Longnight, she can't help but feel like this is the right thing to do.
---
Briar is unbothered when she tells him - after all, it's Autumn, and he has harvesting and winter preparations to get done. Tris reminds her that they can speak to each other over any distance now, and then tells her to leave in one week, not two, as a storm will pass across her route after that. Sandry is a surprise. Daja is afraid to tell her she's leaving again, even if it's not for long, but Sandry hugs her hard, tells her things are different this time, and sets about making sure she has enough warm clothing for the cold in the north. ‘And anyway, I think a change of scenery will be good for you,’ Sandry tells her, and while Daja rolls her eyes, she can't help but feel like Sandry might be right. At least all the preparations and packing have almost banished Rizu from her thoughts.
She writes her a letter before she leaves, anyway.
---
The north of Capchen is cold, almost as cold as Kugisko in autumn, and Daja appreciates the thick tunics and warm cloaks Sandry made for her. She travels most of the way with Traders, savouring the food and the tea, tastes and smells from her childhood, even if these Traders travel by land and not the sea. They part ways when they reach the western coast, and Daja finds a ship and sails north for two days. It's been years since she has been on a boat for longer than a few hours, and she is half-relieved to find that sailing still feels familiar and safe. Still, she sends up silent prayers to Oti Bookkeeper and Trader Koma for her family, now that she's out on the open water, and uses a red strip of cloth to keep her long braids in place against the wind.
At the port town of Nivvenau, Daja leaves the ship behind her. The town reminds her a little of Kugisko, with its decorative wooden buildings, but here the streets are cobbled and leaf-strewn rather than snow-covered. The decorations are far less ornate, too; mostly paintings, rather than carvings, and many of them are crumbling and old looking. If I were here to trade, I doubt I’d stop for long, Daja thinks. They don’t look like they have much to spare!
She seeks out the lodging house recommended by a merchant travelling with the Traders. There are few people in the streets - as she makes her way there through the town’s narrow, winding alleys, she looks curiously at those she does see, but most of them duck their heads and walk hurriedly away after all but a brief glance her way. Not used to strangers here, I suppose, Daja thinks. A slightly hollow feeling has begun to settle in her stomach. ‘I’ll feel better with some food,’ she tells herself sternly, pushing the feeling away. Setting her jaw to strengthen her resolve, she turns a corner and heads towards the silver-and-blue sign that identifies the lodging house’s front door. The name is inscribed in ornate silver letters: ‘Zum silbernen Schutz’.
---
It is late afternoon by the time she has paid for rooms and retrieved her belongings from the docks, and the sun is already starting to set when she sets out to find Silber Strasse, the street where Frostpine’s friend’s shop should be. The local dialect is strange, a mixture of Imperial and something else, but Daja can guess that the street would be called Silver Street in Emelan. When she gets her first look at it, she can see why - every second shop is a silversmith’s. She is half wondering how so many can survive in a town no bigger than a third the size of Summersea, when a tall, broad-shouldered woman steps from one of the doorways.
‘You must be Daja,’ she says, her voice matching her stature. ‘Come inside, before you catch your death!’
After Linna has shown Daja her forge, fed her strong Capchen tea flavoured with milk and honey, and fed her a mound of dense fruitcake, she explains the reason she wrote to Frostpine. Something is wrong with the town’s silver; not just the silver worked in her own forge, but by every smith in Nivvenau.
‘I wouldn't have written to the old curmudgeon if I weren't desperate,’ Linna says with a wry smile.
Daja takes a gulp her tea to hide her grin, wondering which part of that description Frostpine would object to more. Then she realises the seriousness of what Linna has just told her, and puts down her teacup. ‘Can you show me the problem? It might be easier to solve if I can see what's going wrong.’
Linna nods, rising from her seat. ‘I'm no magyerin,’ - Daja guesses this is the local word for mage - ‘but I recognise magic when I see it. There's magic in the silver that shouldn't be there.’
---
As Daja walks through the cold and empty streets to her lodgings, she barely notices her surroundings. Her mind is caught up with what she saw in Linna’s forge. The silversmith is right - there is magic in the silver, but it’s like nothing she's ever seen before. It's not the ambient magic of silver itself, and it's not a mix of other metals, either. That would be simple to deal with - just a contamination of the ore, something she could unweave like Sandry wove and unwove cloth. This is something else; it almost felt malevolent, like something clinging to the metal that refused to let go.
Tris, she calls mentally, hoping her sister can spread some light on what she has seen. Tris dealt with magics mixing into materials where they shouldn't be before, right? There is silence at the other end of their bond, though - Tris is either reading or sleeping. Daja sighs. I’ll try again later, she sends down the bond, knowing that Tris might register the message even if she didn't realise until later.
As she looks across the street to her lodging house, Daja almost thinks she sees Tris in front of her, until a second glance tells her she’s completely mistaken. The girl’s hair is like her sister’s, curly and deep red, and they look to be about the same age. But where Tris is short and plump, this girl is taller (though not as tall as Daja) and muscular, with a thin nose and dark brown eyes - eyes that are now trained suspiciously on Daja.
‘There’s no need to stare!’ the girl mutters, holding her worn basket in front of her as if to shield herself from Daja’s gaze.
Daja blushes, embarrassed. ‘I'm sorry,’ she says, walking across to the girl. ‘For a moment, I thought you were someone I knew.’
The girl looks her up and down, and shrugs. ‘Not likely,’ she says. ‘Don't think I know anyone who’s not from round here - and not many of them, at that.’ She sounds half curious now, and Daja can't blame her. Nivvenau doesn't seem like a place that gets too many visitors at all, never mind visitors not from Capchen.
Daja shifts her ebony staff to her left hand and holds out her right hand in greeting. ‘Well, now you do,’ she says, smiling. ‘I'm Daja - Daja Kisubo.’
The girl looks at her for a moment, with a suspicious expression that seems almost Tris-like, and then shrugs again and puts down her basket. ‘Talia,’ she says. ‘Talia Rudelsdochter.’ As their fingers touch, Daja can't help but feel a shiver run through her like a tiny piece of her sister’s lightning.
Talia pulls her hand away, her face half-curious, half wary. ‘You're not like them,’ she says, taking a step backwards. ‘You're moy-te. But how can that be?’
Daja frowns. ‘I'm a what? I'm sorry, I don't….’
Suddenly, something like fear crosses the girl’s face. ‘I have to go,’ she says, before Daja can finish her sentence. She grabs her basket, her eyes meeting Daja’s for just a moment before she hurries away down the street. In the moonlight, Daja sees a flash of silver beneath the girl’s thick lashes.
‘Wait!’ Daja calls, but Talia is already gone. Daja stares down the street, knowing what she has just seen, and utterly confused about everything else. She has been able to recognise silvery flashes like that since she was eleven years old. Like Linna said earlier, she knows magic when she sees it.
---
Daja works the next day at Linna’s forge, learning silver-work techniques and trying to work out what is contaminating the silver. Sinking into her magic, concentrating on the problem in front of her, she doesn't think of the strange girl at all - at least not until they break for tea, in the late afternoon. Her only success comes when she tries feeding some to a small pot of her living metal. Experimentally, she forms a delicate bangle out of the mixture, flexible and yet tough. At the contact with the living metal, the malevolent magics in the silver seem to dissipate - although why or how that should be, she isn't sure.
‘I'm sorry,’ she tells Linna. ‘I can see what’s wrong - there is definitely magic there that shouldn't be - but I'm not really any closer to working out how it got there, never mind how to separate it out again!’ She gestures to the bangle. ‘It seems to like my living metal, but that's not much use for working silver alone.’
Linna takes the bangle from her and flexes it, her eyes widening. ‘This is… A marvel’ she says wonderingly. ‘Only a student of Frostpine’s….’ For a moment, she turns the bangle over in her fingers, her mind elsewhere. Then she sighs. ‘Ach, you’re right. That's not much help for working silver alone, and the purity of the silver is important.’ She hands the bangle back to Daja, who slips it onto her wrist. ‘Would it help to see the mine? We've had watchers there, to see if someone is interfering, and they've seen nothing, but…’
‘...but if all the silver is like this it seems likely it's coming from the source,’ Daja says, nodding. ‘That's a good idea.’
Linna stands. ‘Then I'll arrange for an escort for you - the mine is a fair distance outside the walls, and the woods are full of bestyeren.’
Daja doesn't recognise the word, though Linna’s scowl as she says it tells her it can't be anything good. ‘Bestyeren?’ she asks, her tongue stumbling over the unfamiliar syllables.
Linna doesn't meet her eyes. ‘Beasts,’ she says shortly. ‘They're one of the reasons that silver is so important to Nivvenau - it helps hold them off.’
Silver weaponry? Daja wonders. An odd choice, but if that's the only metal they can easily mine in the region… She's seen already that Nivvenau is not a wealthy place, nor of any trade importance. Despite its harbour, the town itself seems little larger than a village, its richest residents still seemingly mostly merchants and tradespeople. She shrugs, and smiles at Linna.
‘Then I appreciate the escort,’ she says. It seems as if Traders don't pass through the town very often - Linna probably isn't aware of the damage most Traders can do with a staff, never mind the full strength of Daja’s magical connection to fire and metal.
The odd Nivvenan word reminds her suddenly of her encounter last night, and she turns to Linna. ‘By the way, what does “moy-te” mean?’ she asks.
The strength of Linna’s reaction takes Daja aback - the woman pales and seems to almost physically recoil. ‘Where did you hear that?’ she asks, and Daja can hear the sudden tension in her voice.
Daja explains her encounter the night before. As she repeats what the girl - Talia, that was her name - said to her, she can't help but notice Linna glancing at the bangle of silver alloy on her wrist.
As Daja finishes explaining, Linna takes her hand. ‘Some… people… in Nivvenau, they are not good people. You should be careful - don't walk alone here at night. That word… It's not a good word.’
Daja frowns. She hates it when older people assume she’s still just a kid to be protected. She doesn't know what you've seen and done already, she reminds herself, trying to think charitably. Still, it frustrates her that Linna won't tell her what the word actually means - she gets the sense that the smith is skirting around something. And we know what happened the last time I tried to solve a problem without having all the facts, Daja thinks, inwardly flinching at the memory of Ben Ladradun, burning in the Kugisko square.
It doesn't seem like Linna will tell her anything else, though, so she finishes making the arrangements for visiting the mines the next day, and resolves to find out what Talia called her from somebody else.
Perhaps my “escort” tomorrow will be less overprotective, she thinks grumpily.
---
The three Nivvenan men - Hannes, Walther, and Udo, all apprentices to various silversmiths - who are sent as her escort aren't any more willing to discuss what Daja heard. Eventually, despite her frustration, she gives up and asks them about Nivvenau, silverwork, and the mines, instead. By the time they reach the town’s main silver mine, in late morning, she can't help but find them good company.
Daja knows they find it odd that she wants to go inside the mine itself, particularly if there might be something wrong with it, but she knows she needs to get as close to the silver in the earth as possible if she's to work out what is going wrong with it. Still, she takes precautions. At the entrance, she closes her eyes and sends out her magic, testing the walls and seams of silver for structural weaknesses or danger points.
Nothing is wrong. She turns back to her escort. ‘Are you coming in?’ she asks, and can't help but feel relieved when nobody volunteers to join her. Of course, they don't have any means to tell if the mine is safe for themselves, and nobody here seems very used to having a mage around - at least not an ambient mage.
Inside, the mine is dark, but Daja follows her magic more than her other senses, mentally searching along the seams of silver and following whatever tunnel feels right. Finally, she reaches a dead end, deep into the mine. The magic isn't just in the silver, here, she realises. It's in the water! A frisson of fear ripples down her back as she remembers the Blue Pox epidemic. Magic in the water… that couldn't be good. I have to find where it's coming from, she thinks, resolutely, and sits down, closing her eyes and sinking deeper into the burning forge of her magical core.
---
Daja’s face is ashen as she stumbles out of the mine. One of the apprentices - Hannes, she thinks, because she's fairly sure he was the red-head - grabs her arm as it looks like she might fall, and hands her a flask of cold, but still sweet tea. Daja drinks, gratefully, her mind churning with what she discovered.
She lowers the flask and wipes her mouth on the sleeve of her tunic. ‘There’s a small lake to the East of here, right?’ she asks Hannes. He gives her an odd look. They really aren't used to mages here, are they? Daja thinks. ‘I need to go there,’ she says, trying to sound patient. ‘If you want me to solve your silver problem, anyway!’
The two blond apprentices exchange glances. They almost look panicked, Daja thinks. Why are the people here so skittish? The reminder that the people she was trying to help are almost certainly hiding something from her - maybe something important - makes her anxious and grumpy in equal measure.
Just as she is about to ask what the problem is, the shorter of the two, Udo, speaks up. ‘That’s - that’s Rudelswasser,’ he says, a tremor in his voice. ‘It's… It's not a place for a lady!’
Daja has had enough. Kaqs, she thinks, and just about stops herself from saying it aloud. Instead, grasping her staff tightly in one hand, she pulls out her mage’s medallion. ‘I'm not a lady, she says sharply. ‘I'm a mage, and one who's here to save your livelihood, at that!’ The three apprentices look away, their faces reddening. ‘Now, will you show me the way to this lake? Or shall I find it myself, and send you back to fera Ebbeflut?’ By now she has at least learned the local titles, if nothing else.
‘Nay, magyerin Kisubo,’ Hannes says, still looking pale. ‘We will go to the Rudelswasser, if that is where you wish to go.’
---
Briar, Daja calls through their bond. She can feel that her brother is there and awake, open to her call. I need your help. What did the water feel like, the water with the Blue Pox in it?
Briar’s response comes back as quick as lightning, and with it, echoes of concern from Sandry and Tris. The Blue Pox? Don't tell me you've found something like that in Capchen! She can feel his worry pulsating through the bond, and realises that Briar nearly lost more than any of them from the epidemic that swept through Summersea. It looked like nothing - it looked like water, same as any other water.
Don't worry, she tells him, trying to calm her own anxiety so it wouldn't carry over with her words. I don't know yet what I'm looking at, but I hope it's nothing like the pox.
She tells him what she's seen in Nivvenau so far, and when she's finished it’s Tris who answers first. That sounds more like Keth’s lightning-glass, she says contemplatively. Are you sure there isn't a mage at the mine? Or someone who doesn't know he is one?
I haven't met any mages at all here yet, Daja sends back. Or at least… Maybe not. She tells them about Talia, and her suspicion that she might have some kind of ambient magic. But I don't know if she's ever been anywhere near the silver mines, or this lake, she finishes. Linna - that's Frostpine’s old friend - she didn't seem to know her, anyway. Something in Daja made her doubt that Talia had anything to do with the tainting of the water and silver. It's probably just a coincidence.
Be careful, Daja, Sandry says, echoing Daja’s own thoughts. Something doesn't add up at all, from what you've said.
Daja sighs. I will be, she promises, the warmth of her siblings’ concern pushing down some of her anxiety. I'm going to look at this lake. Hopefully I can make some sense of what's going on then!
Whatever you do, don't touch it, Briar says, as Daja spots shimmering water in the distance.
I won't, she promises.
---
When they reach the lake, Daja knows what she discovered from the mine is correct before she even reaches the water’s edge. The lake - little more than a pool, really - shimmers with magic, the same magic as in the silver, with the same malevolent tinge. Well, this isn't like the Blue Pox, she thinks, but Bookkeeper knows what it is, then! ‘Don't touch it,’ she says sharply, as Walther goes to fill a bucket for the horses. ‘It's tainted.’
Walther blanches and steps away hurriedly, dragging his horse back with him. The horse lets out a startled whinny, and behind them, a branch cracks loudly as someone steps on it. Daja whirls around.
A girl steps out of the thicket, clutching a bucket and a heavy staff, her dark eyes trained on Daja and the three apprentices. Daja almost drops her own staff as she realises who it is. ‘Talia!’ she says in surprise.
The girl takes a half-step backwards and drops the bucket, her dark eyes wide. ‘You - why are you here?’ she says, tremulously. ‘You should not be here.’ She looks across at the three men, her eyes narrowing. ‘Why did you allow her to come here?’
Before any of the three can reply, Daja steps forward. ‘Nobody allowed me to come here,’ she says softly. ‘I chose to come. There's a problem with the water, isn't there? I’m a mage - um, a magyerin - I can help.’ Inwardly, she hopes she can help. Oti Bookkeeper, please let me not gain a debt here!
Hannes moves closer to his horse, scowling. ‘If the water’s tainted, it's most likely because of her and her ilk!’ As he speaks, Udo mounts his horse, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like ‘bestyeren’.
Daja turns to them, glaring them angrily. ‘I have no idea so far what is causing this, but if none of you will tell me what is really going on here, I won't be able to help any of you!’ She tries her best to channel Rosethorn. ‘You three, if you can't be helpful, then stay with the horses, and don't touch the water!’ She turns back to Talia, and gestures to the bucket. ‘You came to fetch water - did you know it’s tainted?’
Talia slowly picks up her bucket, not looking at Daja. ‘We know it's poisoned. But we don't have a choice. It's the only water we have.’ She looks up, looking into Daja’s dark eyes. ‘But please! You should not stay near it. You are moy-te, too - I could tell! Don't let the poison take you as well!’ Abruptly, she turns away, and disappears into the thicket.
Daja can hear Udo and Walther behind her, voices loudly starting to argue something, but she knows immediately that she has to follow Talia. She dives after her into the thicket. ‘Wait!’ she calls. She's a head taller than the other girl, and despite the thick undergrowth she catches up with her quickly, though not without a few scratches. Sometimes I wish I'd kept a little more of Briar’s plant magic when Sandry unwove us, she thinks, but the thought is wiped away as she manages to step in front of Talia. ‘Moy-te - what does that mean? Why would the poison affect me?’
Talia stops and stares at her, and Daja can't help but notice how pretty she is, even with her eyes full of confusion and fear. ‘You don't know? How can you - ?’ Something in her face changes - it seems like she has made a decision. She grabs Daja by the hand. ‘Come back to the village with me. My mother can explain far better than I can.’
Daja looks down at the pale fingers wrapped around her own darker ones, and back up at Talia’s large brown eyes. ‘Alright,’ she says, wonderingly.
---
The village, when they get there, is little more than a collection of huts around a central rough-paved square. It's strangely empty - although it's the middle of the day, nobody seems to be around, and there is a heavy silence that seems to hang in the air. Talia leads Daja to a cottage on the far side of the square, and they step through the front door and into a warm room, lit by a smoky fireplace and what sunlight can make its way through the small windows.
A tall, thin woman rises slowly from the other side of the fire, her face lined and wary. ‘Talia, what…?’
Talia squeezes Daja’s hand, then pushes her ahead of her. ‘Mutti, this is Daja Kisubo. She's come to help us.’ She turns to Daja. ‘This is my mother.’
Talia’s mother approaches Daja, an unreadable expression on her face, and takes a deep breath. Almost as if she were smelling me, Daja thinks, opening her mouth to greet the older woman.
Before she can say anything, Talia’s mother touches her cheek. ‘I am Yanna Rudelsdochter,’ she says, looking Daja straight in the eye. ‘I am rudelfera here.’ Seeing Daja’s confused expression, she half-smiles. ‘Ah, you are not used to our language. I am… You might call it the matriarch,’ she explains. ‘But you… You are moy-te too.’ She breathes again, this time more sharply, almost like sniffing. ‘Or perhaps not. At least, not as we would understand it.’
‘Can you tell me what that word means?’ Daja asks, frustratedly. ‘Nobody will tell me!’
Yanna lets out a bark of a laugh. ‘Ah, you asked those in the town? Hah. They, of course, would not tell you. They wish to pretend they have never heard of us!’ She tilts her head and looks at Daja curiously. ‘Tell me - those you are closest to, those you can call on any time, no matter where you are, those you hold inside you as they hold you inside themselves - what do you call them?’
Daja stares at her. ‘How do you know that?’ she says, pressing her fingers against the lump in her palm where her part of their thread circle had sunk in. She glances at Talia. Somehow she trusts these people, even if a part of her brain is trying to remind her that she had also trusted Ben Ladradun, and look where that got her. She looks up at Talia’s mother. ‘My siblings,’ she says softly. ‘My mates. Saati.’
‘Child, you are far from home,’ Yanna says, seating herself by the fire with the slow motions of one plagued by joint pain. ‘We are like you, in a way.’ She gestures to a stool by the fire. ‘Sit, and let me tell you about us - and about the water. That is why you came, ya?
Daja nods and sits down. Talia sits beside her, and Daja realises that something about the girl’s presence makes her feel less worried, even if she is still not really sure what she has gotten into.
‘We are pack,’ Yanna begins. ‘I believe that is what you might call it. We hold magic within us, like you, though its form is quite different. Ours allows us to do this.’ Daja can't help but outright stare in shock, as the tall woman seems to twist and transform in front of her, until she is no longer looking at a woman at all. A wolf stands in Yanna’s place, large and black, but with eyes that sparkle with intelligence.
‘Mutti!’ Talia cries, sounding outraged. ‘We need her help!’
Daja rests a hand on Talia’s. Many things are suddenly becoming clear to her. ‘It's alright,’ she says softly. ‘Is this why those in Nivvenau fear you?’
Talia nods. Yanna yelps, and her body twists back into her human form. She looks at Daja with a new expression of respect. ‘Indeed,’ she says. ‘And it has been many years since I met one such as you, who did not run at the first sight of my other self. I believe you now, when you say you will help us.’
She lowers herself back into her seat by the fire, coughing slightly. Daja can see a worried frown on Talia’s face, but Yanna ignores it and turns to Daja. ‘Let me tell you about our people, and about those in the town.’
---
Yanna’s explanation is surprising, but Daja supposes that, to anyone else, the things she and her siblings can do would seem just as extraordinary. ‘So you can change into a wolf, whenever you’d like?’ she asks Talia.
Talia looks at her for a moment, uncertainly. Then her body shifts. This time, Daja can see the magic at work in the transformation, until Talia’s wolf form stands before her and the magic settles. Talia is a lighter colour than her mother - still brown, but with hazel streaks around her muzzle and paws, and her eyes, instead of yellow, are still deep brown. After a moment, she changes back, and looks at Daja somewhat nervously. ‘But - you don't fear me now? Now that you know the truth?’
Daja shrugs. ‘One of my sisters can weave magic. Another keeps lightning in her hair. My brother could make this stool’ - she nudges it with her foot - ‘sprout leaves and roots and turn into a tree, right here in this room. And I can make things from metal that grows like my skin.’ She remembers the bangle she made in Linna’s forge. ‘Like this.’ She slides it off, and hands it to Talia.
Talia stares at it for a second. Then her face twists in fear, and she drops it. Yanna stands up swiftly. ‘Silver! You would bring that here? Perhaps I misjudged you, after all…’
Talia interrupts her. ‘My hand!’ she says, her voice trembling. ‘Look at it!’
Daja looks, and sees nothing different - Talia’s hand is as thin and delicate as it had been two days previously, when Daja took it for the first time. Yanna, however, stares in surprise. ‘Freki bless us, you are unharmed.’ She turns to Daja, the tremor in her voice betraying her lingering fear. ‘How is it that you give her silver, and yet it does not burn her?’
‘Silver burns you?’ Daja feels a hot pang of guilt in her belly. ‘I swear by Trader and Bookkeeper, I didn't know.’ A thought strikes her. ‘But that's not silver - at least, it's not pure silver.’ She holds out her hand, showing Yanna and Talia the living metal that coats it. ‘It's mixed with this.’
Talia reaches out, cautiously, and strokes the back of Daja’s hand. ‘It's warm!’ she says, surprised.
‘It's like skin, mostly,’ Daja says. ‘I barely notice it, most of the time.’
Talia looks up at Daja, then down at the silver bangle at her feet. Then she leans down and rests one finger on it.
‘Talia…’ Yanna says in a low, warning tone.
‘But it doesn't burn,’ Talia says, wonderingly, ‘not at all.’ She picks it up, despite Yanna’s sharp, fearful intake of breath, and gazes at it in her palm.
‘You can have it,’ Daja says, impulsively. ‘If you'd like?’ Talia’s answering smile, small and tentative, makes her heart sing. Before Daja can wonder in turn at that feeling, Yanna clears her throat.
‘I appreciate you coming here, and all the more now that I see what you bring with you - perhaps a hope for more change in more than just our current predicament. I have told you who we are. But Talia says you are here to help us. You think you can remove the poison from our water?’
‘I hope so,’ Daja says seriously. ‘How did it start?’
---
By the time Yanna has finished telling her of the strange mage, the odd object he dropped into the water, and the sickness that has laid low most of their clan and killed several, Daja is burning with rage. To have magic is to have responsibility, to use it to help and to protect, not to harm, she thinks fiercely. How could any mage do something such as this, seemingly designed solely to hurt - and not in the heat of war, either, when perhaps it might be excused?
‘Do you know where he came from? Or why he picked your lake, in particular?’ Daja asks, trying to keep her voice calm, despite her anger.
Yanna sighs. ‘I assumed he was sent by the town… But I have no proof. I do not think he was from Capchen. He spoke in a strange tongue, and wore garments like nothing I've ever seen. Not like yours, either,’ she adds, nodding at Daja’s tunic. ‘But neither was he from here.’
Talia twists the bangle on her wrist. ‘I think he put silver in the lake. That's what it looked like, anyway.’
Daja stands up. ‘Well, if there's silver there, I can find it. But I don't think that's all he did.’
Talia stands up too. ‘Let’s go back to the lake, then.’ She turns to her mother, who has moved as if to stand, but has started to cough. ‘Mutti, stay here. You'll wear yourself out,’ she says, looking worried.
Yanna sinks back into her stool, the coughing fit subsiding, and waves them out the door. ‘I am fine,’ she says firmly. ‘Go. Help our people.’
---
As she and Daja walk back towards the lake, Talia twists the silver bangle around her wrist and bites her lip. Daja pushes a thorny brandy aside, and glances back at her companion. Seeing the tears threatening to spill from the other girl’s eyes, she stops. ‘You're worried about your mother?’ she asks, sympathetically.
Talia nods. ‘It's just that…’ She pauses, and her face crumples as she fights back tears. ‘My uncle died two weeks ago. He was already weak… Someone from the town attacked him a year ago, and he never really recovered. But then, after the water went bad, he started to cough, and by the end he was gasping for air. My cousin too - he hasn't left his bed in a week. And now my mother…’ Tears spill out of her eyes and down her cheeks.
Daja doesn't hesitate - she steps towards the girl and embraces her tightly. ‘I'll try and fix this,’ she whispers. ‘Whatever I can do, I'll do it.’
Talia takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself, and looks up at Daja. ‘I believe you,’ she says, softly. ‘I don't know why, but I do.’
---
At the lake, Daja kneels down and places her hands in the water, inwardly wincing as she realises she is breaking her promise to Briar. Still, she's pretty sure now that, whatever the mage did, it's designed to only affect Talia’s people. After a minute, though, she takes her hands back out, and looks up at Talia, who has sat on a large rock at the water’s edge. ‘If there's silver in the water, I should be able to find it,’ she says dejectedly. ‘But there's nothing…’
She breaks off as she notices, once again, the silvery hint of magic around Talia - this time, spreading outwards from the girl’s body and pushing aside the malevolent magic in the water. ‘Your magic,’ she says, carefully, not wanting to scare the girl. ‘Is it just that you can turn into a wolf when you want?’
Talia looks up from the water. ‘I can talk to the others, too, without talking aloud - like you can with your saati,’ she says, carefully pronouncing the unfamiliar word. Then she bites her lip. ‘Well, and one other thing…’ She pauses, and looks at Daja, wariness returning to her face. ‘I think this is what makes the people in the town hate us, because they don't understand it. But - well, we can pass on our magic to someone else, if they truly want it.’
‘If they truly want it?’ Daja repeats, confused. ‘You mean, if someone asks you for your magic, you can share it?’
Talia nods. ‘Willingly given and willingly accepted, then one may become moy-te.’
Pack, Daja mentally translates. The way Talia says the words makes them sound like a law, not just an answer to Daja’s question.
Daja looks at her for a moment. ‘That’s….’ She grins, thinking of the questions Nico and Tris will have for her after all of this. ‘Oh, if you ever meet my sister and her mentor, they will have so many questions for you!’
Talia looks at her incredulously. ‘It doesn't bother you?’
Daja raises her eyebrows. ‘Bother me? It’s amazing! You can share your magic with someone else - that's like nothing I've ever heard before.’
Talia looks back at the water. ‘The townspeople believe we pass it on as a punishment, as an attack, to people who don't want it. That's why they fear us - they are scared we’ll make them one of us.’
Daja huffs angrily. ‘People believe idiotic things, and let their fears swallow their whole lives.’ She wipes her damp hands on her tunic and rests one on Talia’s shoulder. ‘But there are lots of people out there who aren't like that. People who don't fear things just because they don't understand them.’
Talia gives her a small smile and Daja’s heart lights up. ‘Maybe I'll get to meet some, one day,’ she says softly.
For a moment, they gaze at one another. Daja feels heat rising in her cheeks, her heart pounding in her chest. Until she suddenly remembers why she started the conversation in the first place. ‘Talia, your people don't have any water magic, though, do they?’
The spell is broken - Talia looks away at the water. ‘No, none at all. Or maybe we could have done something before it was too late,’ she says bitterly.
Feeling guilty, Daja tries to explain. ‘I'm sorry… I didn't mean to suggest that you could have done something. It's just that - I think you have water magic,’ she says.
Talia stands up from the rock, and glares at her. ‘Me? No. That's not possible. I have the least connection to the water of anyone… That's why I'm the only one who hasn't -’ She breaks off with a gasp, realising the weight of what she has started to say.
Daja feels the other girl’s pain like a lead weight sinking through her chest. ‘... You're the only one that hasn't gotten sick,’ she finishes for her.
Talia stares at her for a second, her hands over her mouth. Then she turns and runs back into the thicket, transforming into her wolf form as she goes.
‘Talia…!’ Daja begins, but then stops. There’s no way she’ll catch her now. And after all, she has something to finish here, first, and she knows where to find her when she’s finished. First, she has to cancel out the debt the other mage has brought to this place - and to these people. Some people are too selfish to balance their own books, Daja thinks, tearing her gaze away from the trees and turning to glare at the lake. Kaqs! Don’t they know that accounts written in blood will be paid in blood? She pushes away thoughts of Ben Ladradun and the hot guilt that still always comes with them, and focuses on what she needs to do.
With Talia and her water magic gone, Daja can feel the silver in the water - it’s spelled in some way, but the metal responds to her nonetheless. She draws a magical barrier around herself with her staff, and concentrates on the task at hand. Raising the silver from the lake and gathering in the particles that have leaked into the water takes almost all of Daja’s magical strength, though, and when she's finished, she flops back onto the bank and stares at the sky. Dusk is rapidly approaching, and she's not too sure how she's going to get back to Nivvenau, since her “escort” seems to have left, and Talia ran away.
Suddenly feeling very alone, and very far from home, Daja calls through her bond to her siblings, hoping they can cheer her up. Sandry? Briar? Tris?
What did you do? Sandry demands, and Daja can feel her sister’s magic probing hers. The others must be asleep, or preoccupied, since she can't feel them, but having her saati’s voice in her head is enough to raise her spirits. She fills Sandry in on what she's learned about Nivvenau, what she's done with the lake, and about Talia and her water magic.
Oh Daja, Sandry sounds sympathetic. You had to tell her. But how awful for her - of course she’ll wonder if she could have done something.
Daja sighs. I know. I'll talk to her again - maybe at least this will help her realise she needs to learn how to control her magic, so in the future she can help. She tries to sit up, and flops back onto the ground. ‘Ugh.’ Her magical exhaustion is pulling her body down with it. Then, through the bond, she feels a warm ribbon of energy, tinged with the soft embrace of Sandry’s power, settling like fine silk across her skin.
There, Sandry says firmly. We can't have you passing out in the middle of nowhere, even if the wolves are friendly.
Daja grins, her sister-saati’s words buoying her spirit as much as her power boosts her energy, and pushes herself to her feet, grabbing her brass-capped staff. Thank you,she sends gratefully to Sandry, and turns towards the thicket. ‘I hope I can find the way back,’ she mutters, when suddenly a wolf’s howl breaks the near-silence of the lakeside. Daja takes a breath, pushes away the instinctive fear that rises in her at the sound, and sets off towards it.
---
The village is still quiet and empty-feeling, the silence broken only occasionally by coughs or by whimpers from one or the other of the small huts. Daja finds Yanna where she left her, and quickly tells her what she’s done. ‘The water should be clean now,’ she says, ‘at least in the lake. I don't know about the mine yet, but that's not really a problem for you, I suppose!’
Yanna holds her gaze for a long moment. ‘Thank you,’ she says at last. ‘We have little we can offer you in return, but if we can help you in any way, we will.’
Daja shakes her head. ‘All I've done is undone something that should never have been created in the first place,’ she says firmly. ‘You owe me no debt.’
Yanna nods. ‘As a clan, then, perhaps not. But I too owe you a debt. Talia has told me what you said to her.’
Daja flushes red. ‘I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset her,’ she begins. ‘It's just that….’
‘If she has other magic, she needs to know how to wield it,’ Yanna agrees, finishing Daja's sentence. ‘She is not the first among us to be attuned to other parts of nature than her wolf.’
Daja nods. ‘If she's not trained, by another mage, then her magic might escape her, become untamed. And especially with your other magic - I don't want to see what might happen. But I don't know if there even are any other mages here, never mind water mages…’
‘It's alright.’ Daja turns to see Talia in the doorway, looking pale but determined. ‘I'm sorry I left you alone by the lake. I just… needed to think. But I want to be trained. I want to learn what I could do with this magic - how I could help people.’
Daja looks from Yanna to Talia. ‘Alright,’ she says. ‘Then I'll look for a teacher for you. And in the meantime, I'll teach you to meditate - that's the first step to controlling your magic, in any case.’
Talia smiles, and Daja’s heart beats faster as she smiles in return.
---
When Daja finally makes it back to Nivvenau the next day, she finds Linna in a towering rage at Hannes, Udo, and Walther for abandoning her, and rumours flying about the town - as she walks through the streets she hears mutterings all around her, some fearful, some disbelieving, and some downright rude. Still, she pushes aside her anger, and concentrates on telling Linna what she has found out.
‘I've removed the silver, and the magic with it, from the lake,’ she tells her. ‘So no more magic should run into the mine. But the silver that's already in there is still tainted, and the only solution I can think of is to see if I can imbue the deposits with some of my living metal.’ She gestures to her hand. ‘When I worked the two together before, it removed the magic from the silver. I think it might work with the mine, too. You won't notice any difference when you work the silver, or look at it - it will be a tiny quantity, like a drop in the ocean.’
Linna looks at her, sensing that there's more. ‘But?’ she prompts.
Daja once again forces aside the anger that threatens to rise up in her. ‘It's not really a but. The silver won't burn Yanna’s people anymore - once it's mixed with my metal, it neutralises that effect, too.’
Linna glares at her. ‘What? But you don't understand….’
‘I do understand,’ Daja says, her voice cold. ‘I understand that this town has shunned and attacked these people, for nothing more than the type of magic they have.’
‘They're a threat to our children!’ Linna cries.
‘No,’ Daja says, ‘they're not.’
She explains what Yanna told her, and though Linna tries to protest, eventually she sighs. ‘You're sure they are no threat?’ Linna asks, quietly.
Daja nods, thinking of Linna, and Talia, and everything she has seen. ‘I'm sure,' she says firmly.
Linna falls silent for a moment. ‘If Frostpine trusts you…’ she mutters. ‘Then I must too.’ She turns back to her forge. ‘I'll convince the town’s council,’ she says. ‘I can't promise they'll have an easy time. But attacking them will be banned, and they will be able to live within the walls, if they choose.’ She looks Daja in the eye. ‘I don't make promises I can't keep.’
‘Thank you,’ Daja says, sincerely. It's a start, at least - and probably more than anything Yanna has ever hoped for. She herself knows all too well that attitudes are the hardest thing to change. Suddenly, she remembers something. ‘Actually, there is one more thing.’
Linna wipes her brow with a cloth, resignedly. ‘What is it?’ she asks.
‘Whoever that mage was, who poisoned the water and tainted the mine - someone in Nivvenau paid him to do it,’ Daja tells her. ‘You should find out who. That person almost cost all of Yanna’s people their lives, and all of Nivvenau’s silversmith’s their livelihoods.’
Linna leans against the table with both hands and takes a deep breath. ‘I will find out. But I think I have a good idea already as to who it might be.’ She gives Daja a wry smile. ‘You know, when I asked Frostpine for help with our silver problem, I didn't anticipate having our whole way of life be switched around along with it.’
Daja grins at her honesty. ‘Think of it as a new start,’ she says. ‘Things seem to work out better that way.’ As she pulls on her cloak to head back to her lodgings, she is struck by a thought. ‘You know, your silverwork is finer than anything I've ever seen in Emelan - and not just yours. Everything here is beautiful work. You could probably make far more profit from trading your silver than you ever made just selling it to townspeople for ‘protection’.’
---
After Linna agrees to help, things move quickly: the town council convenes, and after several days of what is reported to be ‘contentious’ meetings, is convinced to accept Linna’s proposals. Yanna is invited to meet with them, and reluctantly comes to Nivvenau. Despite their mutual misgivings about each other, together Linna and Yanna agree that, before anyone else can gain the wolf magic, both wolf-mage and their potential new clan member must swear before a panel that they are doing so of their own free will.
Daja is relieved that, beyond a few mornings' work in the town’s silver mine, imbuing the ore with tiny deposits of living metal, she has little to do beyond teaching Talia meditation and exploring Nivvenau.
Talia finds it difficult, at first, trying to pull her water magic into a small container inside of herself. She can’t seem to separate out her water magic from the wolf magic that is part of her very being, and pulling it into just one place inside her seems impossible. Daja is almost at her wit’s end trying to think of alternative ways to teach her, until one morning she has an idea. ‘This might not work,’ she tells Talia, ‘but it’s worth a try… Can you try meditating in your wolf form, instead?’
It works, and Daja realises that she now knows what Talia’s grin looks like as a wolf, as well as in her human form. After that, Talia takes to meditation like a Blue Trader to seafaring, and her control over her magic grows with each passing day. Often, after the meditation is over, they walk around the town together, too engrossed in getting to know each other to notice any of the angry or suspicious comments occasionally directed towards them by passers by. Sometimes, her hand finds its way into Talia’s, but the other girl doesn’t seem to mind.
At night, she tells the others about everything that's happened across their bond - although mostly, she finds herself talking about Talia. Tris asks her question after question about the wolf-magic and how it can be passed on. Briar tells her off for touching the water, sounding an awful lot like Rosethorn - You couldn't have been sure it would only affect Talia's people! - but she knows it's just because he was worried about her, and soon he's asking her about the plants she's seen around Nivvenau instead. Sandry listens to Daja talk all about Talia's magic and people and face, until she laughs and asks her if she’s sure she’ll be back by Longnight.
Of course I will! Daja replies, indignantly. I promised I wouldn’t be late this time, and I meant it!
Still, she tries hard not to think about the day she will have to leave. The prospect of the long journey home suddenly feels very lonely.
---
A week passes before Linna tells Daja that they have discovered who paid the mage to poison the water. She comes to Daja’s rooms as she and Talia finish their morning meditation, and tentatively offers Talia her hand in greeting, before turning to Daja. ‘It was Goldhammer,’ she says angrily. ‘The fool!’
Daja frowns. ‘Did he say why he did it?’ she asks, sensing that the man was not a stranger to Linna and feeling her stomach churn at the pointlessness of it all.
Linna scowls. ‘He says his son was taken by the… By Yanna’s people,’ she says, with a half-apologetic glance at Talia. ‘He wanted revenge.’
Talia gasps, her eyes sorrowful. ‘Tomas!’ she says. ‘He must have been his son…’
Linna looks at her sharply. ‘He’s dead?’ she asks.
Talia looks down, her eyes filling with tears. ‘He died a month ago, of the poisoning,’ she says sadly. ‘He was a kind man… He joined us because he wanted a family of his own. We thought…’ her breath hitched, and without thinking, Daja took her hand. ‘We all thought he was an orphan!’
Linna lets out a deep breath. ‘Well,’ she says, sadly. ‘They do say that we reap what we sow. It seems that Goldhammer will learn that lesson in the worst way.’ She bids farewell to both Daja and Talia and leaves.
Accounts written in blood will be paid in blood, Daja thinks, and tries to swallow away all at once the guilty memories of Kugisko, the almost-satisfaction she feels at Goldhammer’s punishment by the gods, and her sorrow at year more pointless death.
Talia’s words break the silence and distract her from her dismal thoughts. ‘You’ll need to leave soon, won't you?’ she asks, softly.
Daja feels her heart sink further. ‘Yes,’ she says, sadly. ‘I have to go home, before the frosts come and close the road south.’ She looks at Talia, seeing her own feeling mirrored on the other girl’s face. ‘Don't worry,’ she says, trying to cheer her up. ‘I won't leave until I find you a permanent teacher. I have some names already, at least.’
Talia bit her lip, then took Daja’s hand. ‘Could I…. come with you?’ she asks, hesitantly.
Daja looks at her. ‘To Emelan? But, your mother…’
Talia’s words come faster. ‘I've talked to her. She says there's more for me out there in the world than there is here - and that I'll always be moy-te, no matter where I am.’ She smiles. ‘After all, you still are, even when you're here, nay?’
Daja feels her heart rising in her chest, and feels like she might burst. A slow smile spreads across her lips. ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘And yes! But I won't be your teacher,’ she adds.
The smile fades from Talia’s lips. ‘Oh,’ she says, disappointed.
‘We have plenty of water mages who can teach you - they're much better suited to it than I am. You can choose who you'd like to learn from.’ Daja takes her other hand, and hesitates, suddenly feeling uncertain. ‘But… I could be something else to you, if you'd like?’
Talia looks at her for a moment, confusion flashing across her face. Suddenly her smile returns, bright and brilliant. She leans up and presses her lips against Daja’s, soft and warm and sweet. ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘And yes.’