Thealos let the silence thicken between them. Before the death of his parents, he would have bartered his future life to become a Sleepwalker. But he was finally starting to comprehend that the price it would require could be beyond his willingness to pay.
“Chancellor Abtalion told me that the Mages of Safehome are renegades. Kilshae. Is that true?”
A quirk of a smile lit Jaerod’s face. “That bothers you? You, who fled Avisahn to avoid choosing a calling?”
“You’re evading. Is it true?”
“Thealos, we can argue shades of meaning until the end of the world. I am not going to refute every little crumb that Abtalion fed you. I don’t have time. What I’m offering you is the chance to find out for yourself. Is Safehome a renegade city of powerful magic? Or is it the city that first brought the Shae to this world and will take them away again? If you accept the path that I’m offering you, then you will have the chance to decide that for yourself. How would Abtalion know our motives? He does not even comprehend that he’s encouraging Avisahn to send an army of Shae against two Sorian. Without the Silverkin Crystal, they will fail. An army twice its size couldn’t do it. Remember the hosts of Sol-don-Orai? They were all destroyed by a single Sorian’s wrath. I’ve already told you we don’t worship the Three. Because there is a Power above them that you’ve been taught not to know about or accept.”
Thealos chewed on his lip. “Why didn’t you offer this before? Were you commanded to wait until now, at this time?”
“What do you think?”
“That means you can’t tell me. Ban it! Before you left me in Avisahn, you told me that you were a Ravinir. It’s a strange word, considering its double meaning. To break is to be broken. You are a breaker…a breaker of Firekin, I’m supposing. Yet it means you are also broken. Something like this has happened to you.”
Jaerod’s eyes narrowed and his answer was slightly more than a whisper. “Or will happen to me yet. There is another nuance to the term. To be broken can also mean…?”
“To be teachable. To have the barriers to learning broken down.” Thealos smirked. “It’s a word we used a lot to describe the humans as not being. They never learned because we were such poor teachers.”
Jaerod raised his eyebrow. “Are you ready to learn the Oath magic, Thealos?”
“If I’m not, will you send me back to the Vocus?”
“You’re going back anyway. You might live a little longer with some new tricks.”
He had known his answer from the day he met Jaerod. The hunger to be a Sleepwalker had never waned.
“What must I do? What must I do to be like you?”
“Don’t limit yourself, Thealos. Perhaps someday you’ll be greater.”
It was not long before he learned how that was possible.
Chapter XV
Thealos walked through the deep Shoreland mists, lost in his thoughts. The fog had settled in along the lowland plains, creeping through the reed grass growing along the soft marshy banks of the valley streams and basins. He was grateful that the shroud had blanketed the land, for it gave him time to wrestle against his swirling thoughts.
The Oath magic.
Even hours later, thinking about what had happened struck him with confusion. How could he describe it, even to himself? Part of the lives of countless others seeped into him, a flicker of thought here, an emotion there. As if all the Sleepwalkers since time began had poured their essences into a well that he could now drink from. Yet somehow he was part of that give and take. Part of him drained away, though he was replenished by the thoughts of others. Jaerod had called it the wellspring and said it would take time to master his thoughts, to keep part of him separate from the accumulation of lives. The magic of the Crimson Wolfsmen was after the order…but a lesser order. They could only tap into the wellspring when one of their brothers died. But Thealos was part of it.