Lhem villages are built for three things, or so the wisest sages say. Their foundations are in the stones of earth. Their life is in the strength of sea. And their beauty is in the power of the Guardian Tree. From these three things the Lhem derive their life and their existence.
In retrospect, Amos realized that the sages were acknowledging that the Lhem really liked fishing. Still, every Lhem village built its houses out of local stone, all clustered about a massive Guardian Tree. And every morning, the Lhem went into their duvkanan and pulled fish from the sea. As he entered Dorkeno, he passed the docks where fishermen would soon be tying up. It was late afternoon. Huka had pushed them as hard as he thought they could handled, and the demands of summiting ridges and crossing a few estuaries had helped calm their grief. Amos looked at Victana. Her face was still drawn and sad. He doubted she would ever stop grieving completely, but at least now she could stand and appear somewhat normal. It was a wonder he could do the same.
He had been in Dorkeno every spring to purchase rock salt from the Imperial merchants. Rock salt was superior for drying and curing fish to the pan salt harvested by the Lhem on the placid side of their peninsula. It ran counter to the Lhem ideal of self-sufficiency, but it enabled them to keep fish preserved without magic through the long winter.
He knew they had entered Dorkeno proper when he felt a surge of magical energy on the edge of his consciousness. They had passed the sigils and entered the protection of Dorkeno's Guardian Tree. Magic floated in the ambient again. It was like drawing a deep breath after a long dive on the oyster beds, only in Amos' case it was like suddenly surfacing to find the composition of air every so slightly changed from when he dived. No one had ever fully understood how the Guardian Trees interacted, but it was known that they were networked and could act in unison. Certainly, the loss of such an old and prominent Guardian Tree as that of Lusketo had changed the ambient magic. The flavor of the magic was less complex, like a dish missing a spice. With a start, he realized that Dorkeno's Guardian Tree was grieving as well.
"You look like you just realized that fish have scales," Victana said.
They had been friends since as far back as they could both remember. She only pretended to be mean. He only pretended to be hurt. Now they were all each had in the world.
"The Guardian Tree here knows about Lusketo," he said.
"Of course it does," she said. "If whoever this giant outsider knows about it, all of Dorkeno must know."
"No," Amos said, "it knows. About whatever that creature was that was poisoning the Guardian Tree. It knows. The magic here is afraid."
"Magic is the force of life that emanates from everything that has lived or will live," Victana said, quoting their schoolmasters. "How can it be afraid?"
"Magic is life," Amos said. "Life is afraid when it is faced with a powerful predator."
"You speculate too much," Victana said.
"Can't you feel it?" Amos asked. "It's like the sun is just a shade darker. Or like the moon forgot to rise, but just for a moment and then it rushed into the sky."
"What I'm feeling," Victana said, "is the way everyone is staring at us."
It was true. The fishing grounds were weak at this point in autumn, so only the most desperate or the most ambitious of the fishers were out. Most of those who could were lounging about, drinking seacha and staring. Most of them had the manners to pretend to be staring out to sea, or perhaps at a spot three or four feet beyond Victana or Amos, but everyone was staring.
"They are very anxious to see you!" Huka said, with a booming laugh.
"I wish they weren't," Victana said.
They walked through the staring village until they reached the Council Seat under the leaves of the Guardian Tree. The entire Village Council was assembled there, shifting awkwardly in long, formal gowns of state. One of them, an older woman with a half smile on her face, stepped forward with both palms outward. She was tall for a Lhem, with lighter skin than usual and gray eyes betraying a distant origin from across the mountains.
"My children," she said. "Welcome to Dorkeno. I am the Sorceno-Na of Dorkeno."
Sorceno was an old word, used on as the title for the chief caretaker of the Guardian Tree of a village. She was also, presumably, the chief magic instructor for the village's children. Na was simply a generic word for a grandmother, but usually applied to a female Sorceno.
"My Na," Amos said, "We come from Lusketo." He bent and kissed Na's outstretched palm. Victana did the same.
"Dorkeno has heard the tragedy that has befallen Lusketo and offers you the full hospitality of all Dorkeno," said Na, smiling in perhaps too pitying a way, but her eyes were warm.
"Thank you," Amos said. "We have no village and beg the protection of your Guardian Tree."
"A scant protection in these times," said a younger man standing behind Na. He had a straw-colored beard and piercing blue eyes, both rarities among the Lhem.
"Peace, Auguston," Na said.
"We are at war," continued Auguston.
"There is no war when one party chooses not to fight," said Na.
"They have poisoned a Guardian Tree," said Auguston.
"They?" said Na. "We have not even heard the story from the only survivors. Do not be so quick to judge."
"Who else could it be but the Varenge?" demanded Auguston.
"They were not Varenge," Victana said.
The Varenge were the traditional enemies of the Lhem. They lived on the archipelagos off the coast of the Placid Peninsular and occasionally raided the shores of their neighbor.
"How do you know?" demanded Auguston.
"The magic was different," Amos said.
"What does a boy know of magic differences?" demanded Auguston.
"I've felt Varenge magic," Amos said. "Last year, when they sailed around the Placid. They chose not to raid us because our Guardian Tree was so old and powerful. Their magic tasted of salt and metal. Whatever killed our Guardian Tree was different."
"What type of magic was it?" asked Na, sounding neutral and almost disinterested. Amos realized with a start that she was very subtly probing him for magical resonances.
"You will find I am a sea-aligned mage," he said. "I have permissions primarily from small creatures of the surf and strand."
"And something else, young one," Na said.
"The ocean protected us during our flight from the attack," Amos said. "In exchange, I have sold a Lhem to its care. My child, in fact, but I have none."
Na looked at Amos then, very hard.
"My child," she said. "Do you wish to kill us all?"