Chương 135: Chapter 24: Iron and Mana - Part III

By the time we leave the armorer's shop, the list of changes to my equipment is considerably longer than I expected. Darran has spent most of the conversation pointing out weaknesses I had stopped noticing simply because I had become accustomed to working around them, while Thalia has approached each problem from the perspective of someone who expects her work to be used rather than admired.

I am still not entirely convinced that I need every adjustment she suggested, but I cannot deny that several of them make sense, particularly the changes to the way my equipment sits around Nemain and the additional protection along my shoulders and forearms. The reinforced leather should give me more freedom than heavier armor would, and the new boots will be useful enough that even I have little argument against them.

The eighteen silver crowns leave my purse considerably lighter, but as I settle the strap against my hip and feel the familiar weight of Nemain at my side, I suspect the expense will be easier to justify the first time the improved equipment prevents an injury. Gale walks between Darran and me as we make our way back through the market, and I find myself paying more attention to the way he moves than I did on the journey there.

His stride has become smoother, although he still occasionally seems to misjudge the amount of space his larger body occupies. At one point, a merchant's cart forces us closer to the edge of the street, and Gale shifts around it with a single fluid movement before looking back at me as though expecting approval. There is less hesitation in his movements now.

The awkwardness that followed his transformation has not disappeared entirely, but it is already becoming something he is learning to compensate for rather than something that controls him.

"He's adapting quickly," Darran says.

"He is."

"You'll have to be careful not to mistake that for mastery."

"I won't." Darran gives me a sidelong look.

"You say that now." I cannot help smiling.

"You've become remarkably difficult to argue with."

"Occupational hazard." We continue through the market, and for several minutes the conversation falls quiet again. The afternoon crowd has grown thicker while we were inside the shop, with merchants calling out prices over the steady movement of people carrying baskets, bundles, and sacks through the narrow streets. Gale attracts more attention than either of us, although most people seem content to look for a few moments before returning to their business.

A few children point at him when they think I am not watching, while several adults give him the cautious distance usually reserved for animals they do not understand. Gale pays little attention to any of them. His ears move constantly, tracking sounds from every direction, but his attention remains mostly on us. My mind keeps diverting back to Darran's proposal to train Gale. He knows Gale's history and abilities. He also understands the realities of combat better than most people I know.

He knows how quickly an increase in strength can become a liability when the creature wielding that strength has not yet learned how to control it.

"What would you have him work on first?" I ask.

"Movement," Darran says without hesitation.

"Nothing complicated. I want to see how well he handles his new proportions when he isn't thinking about them. After that, strength and endurance. Once he's comfortable with those, we can start testing the Lightning." I glance at Gale again.

"You think he should use it already?"

"I think we should understand it before we expect him to rely on it." Darran watches Gale for a moment.

"His Lightning is secondary. Whatever he does with it, we shouldn't treat it as though it were the same as his Wind. He can become stronger with it, learn to control it better, and eventually make better use of whatever techniques come naturally to him, but that doesn't mean the affinity itself needs to become something else." The distinction is simple enough, and I nod. Gale's appraisal has already told us where the Lightning stands in relation to his Wind.

There is no reason to expect that to change simply because he becomes better at using it. What matters now is learning what he can actually do with the power he has.

"He'll need to learn when not to use it, too," I say. Darran's expression becomes more serious.

"Especially that." Gale turns his head slightly at the sound of our voices, and I reach down to run my hand along the thicker fur near his shoulder. He leans into the touch for half a step before continuing forward.

"You can keep him with you for now," Darran says.

"But when you start taking him into situations where his size and strength become useful, you'll need to make sure he understands the difference between following you and fighting beside you." The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"That sounds like something you can teach him."

"It is." I look at him.

"Then I'll leave him with you." Darran gives a small nod, as though he had expected the answer.

"Good." The rest of the walk passes without much conversation. The streets gradually thin as we move away from the market, and the buildings become less crowded until the familiar road toward the Grove opens before us. Gale seems to recognize the change before I do. His pace quickens slightly, and his attention shifts away from the people around us toward the trees ahead. Darran notices it as well, "So that's the Grove."

"That's it." He looks toward the trees for several moments without saying anything. He has heard enough about the Grove by now to know that it is no ordinary druid settlement, but this is the first time he has actually come here. I watch his expression as the path carries us beneath the first branches, expecting some reaction to the Silverwood or Heartwoods or perhaps simply the strange quiet that settles over the place. Instead, he slows. The difference is subtle, but I notice it immediately.

The Grove does that to people. The air changes beneath the canopy. The sounds of Fallowspire fade behind us, replaced by rustling leaves, distant birdsong, and the softer sounds of people moving through a place that has no need to compete with the city outside. The familiar paths open between the trees, and the Silverwood rises beyond them, its pale trunk and spreading branches visible through the greenery. Darran looks around slowly.

"I understand why you don't talk about this place like it's just another camp." I glance at him.

"It isn't."

"No." His eyes settle on the Silverwood.

"It really isn't." There is no awe in his voice, and I appreciate that. Darran has never been the sort of man to become overwhelmed simply because something is unusual. He observes first, considers second, and decides what he thinks afterward. Even now, his attention moves from the trees to the paths, from the buildings to the people working nearby, quietly taking in the layout and the routines without asking questions he does not need answered. We have barely stepped farther into the Grove when Eammon spots Gale.

"Gale?" The Hollowmane's ears immediately perk up, and Eammon's face breaks into a grin. He takes another step forward, then another, until Gale lowers himself slightly so the boy can reach him more easily. Eammon places both hands against his mane, nearly disappearing into the thicker fur around Gale's neck.

"You got bigger." Gale answers with a low rumble that sounds suspiciously pleased with himself. Aine approaches more cautiously, watching Gale for several seconds before reaching toward one of his forepaws. A tiny spark flickers between his claws, and she quickly pulls her hand back.

"Lightning," she whispers.

"Apparently," I say. She looks at me, then back at Gale, and this time she reaches out more carefully. Her fingers brush against the fur along his foreleg without another spark appearing, and some of the tension leaves her shoulders. Darran watches the children for a moment before looking at me.

"This is probably a good time to tell everyone that he isn't dangerous simply because he's stronger."

"I think they know."

"Eammon probably does." Eammon looks up from Gale's mane.

"I know." Darran smiles.

"Good." The familiar ease of the Grove settles around me, and for the first time since leaving the Guild, I stop thinking about appraisals, equipment, money, and everything else waiting outside these trees. Gale is surrounded by people who already know him. Eammon is treating his larger size as though it were merely an interesting change rather than something frightening, while Aine has already grown comfortable enough to touch him again.

Even the sight of Darran standing among them feels strangely natural, despite the fact that this is his first visit. I let myself breathe. Then I notice Elyrion. He stands beneath one of the older trees a short distance away, watching the gathering. His attention is not on Gale or the children. It is fixed on me, and something in his expression makes me straighten before he even begins walking toward us.

"Kaelen." His voice is calm, but there is enough purpose behind it that I know this is not a casual greeting. I turn toward him.

"What is it?" Elyrion's gaze shifts briefly toward Garrick, who has emerged from the deeper part of the Grove, before returning to me.

"I need you and Garrick." Darran looks between us.

"For what?" Elyrion answers without hesitation.

"To hunt." The words are simple, but Garrick's attention sharpens immediately. He has spent enough time around Elyrion to recognize the difference between a casual request and one that has already been decided. I look from Elyrion to Garrick, then toward Gale. Before I can say anything, Darran speaks.

"You can go, Gale's going to be with me anyways." I meet his eyes.

"We can start working through his new abilities while you're gone," he continues.

"Nothing dangerous until we know what he can handle." Gale looks toward me as though he understands that something has changed, and for a moment I hesitate. Leaving him is not difficult because I distrust Darran. It is difficult because I have spent so long being the one responsible for him that the idea of walking away while someone else takes over feels unfamiliar. But Darran is right. Gale does not need me watching every movement he makes.

He needs room to learn, and Darran has the patience and experience to give him that room without mistaking his strength for readiness. I crouch beside Gale and place a hand against his mane.

"You stay with Darran." Gale studies me for a moment, then turns his head toward Darran. Darran gives him a calm nod.

"We'll manage." Gale's tail moves once behind him before he settles beside Eammon again. I rise and look toward Elyrion.

"All right," I say.

"Tell me what we're hunting." Elyrion turns toward the path leading away from the Grove and onto the forest surrounding Fallowspire, rather than answering immediately. Garrick falls into step beside him, already checking the straps on his equipment as though he knows we will not be standing around for long. I look back once. Darran is already speaking quietly to Gale, studying the way the Hollowmane shifts his weight while Eammon continues talking beside him.

Aine is watching them both, and beyond them the Silverwood moves gently in the afternoon breeze. For once, I do not feel the need to stay. I follow Elyrion and Garrick, adjusting the new weight of my equipment as I walk. Nemain remains silent at my side, and the second blade rests where it always has, familiar enough that I barely notice it. Whatever Elyrion has found beyond the walls, I suspect the hunt will tell me more about why he has been watching the wilderness so closely these past few days.

We leave the last of the familiar paths behind us, and the trees close around the three of us as we disappear into the forest.