"How is it you're all so unconcerned by magic?" Nichol asked quietly. "Its use is completely restricted in Caithmor if you're not a priest."

"Restricted, true," Kith said with a shrug. "That don't mean it never happens. Magic's in all of us, Nyle, more in some, less in some, but there. Why would the gods give us gifts if they didn't want us to use them?"

"But then we'd have terrible wars," Nichol protested. "Thousands of people died before. Whole cities were destroyed."

Kith shook his head tiredly. "We 'ave terrible wars now. You think it's any less horrible for someone to die by a sword rather than a spell? People are always going to die, boy. War is the way of man, more than peace, more even than love. We fight for what we can get, and we fight to hold it. My whole village was wiped out by our Emperor's father as he worked his way along the northern coastline. Rounded us up, set our houses on fire. Some of us were fast enough to get away, but not most."

"I'm sorry," Nichol murmured.

"I survived, though what I had to give up to do so..." Kith shuddered. "Found my way, though it weren't easy." He leaned back against the edge of the wagon and tossed Nichol the spoon. "Keep stirring that. Don't let it stick to the pot." Kith turned his face and looked up at Colm. Colm looked back, still and silent, and after a moment, Kith shuddered and looked away.

"Makes my flesh crawl," he muttered. "The way it looks at us. Like it's thinkin' of how much it'd like to rip our throats out. Got a glimmer of intelligence in its eyes, it does. Probably a fearsome hunter in the open water."

"Probably," Nichol agreed. He stirred the pot, then asked, "Are there many of you here who can do magic, then?"

"A fair few. Not going to be a problem for you, is it?"

"Not at all," Nichol replied. "I'm just curious, I suppose. There's a lot I don't know about magic. Do people use it in their acts?"

"Not usually. It takes energy, magic does. You hafta be fit to make any use of it at all. Regar's the strongest sorcerer in the Spectacular by far these days, but his gift is in working charms on objects, like he did with the mesh there." Kith waved a hand at the tank. "He spells things to make 'em more useful. Swords that never dull, clothes that don't wear out, metal that can bind to glass. Kiaran's got his prophecy, some of the acrobats can do tricks that make 'em stronger, more balanced, that sort of thing. Plenty of people who work magic find it best to keep moving, otherwise the local priests hunt 'em down. Some of 'em find a place with us.

"There was one who traveled with us for a time, oh, almost ten years past now. He was a great favorite of Regar's, was his lover for a time, I think. Powerful, that man was. He could farsee."

"Farsee? Is that some kind of prophecy?"

"No, it's literally what it sounds like, Nyle. He could use his power to see any place he'd ever been before, and he'd traveled all over the world, even to the Garnet Isles. He could tell you what was happening, who was doing what... Saw it all clear as day. A great gift, that man had."

"What happened to him?" Nichol asked.

"Oh, here it gets a bit sad. He and Regar had a falling out over something, and Regar turned him out of the Spectacular. Not a day later, he was picked up by the priests and hauled off to the capital. None's seen him since. Kiaran was broken up about it back then, but he was a high-strung child. Anything could make that lad cry. He's toughened up quite a bit since then." Kith kicked his legs out straight and sighed. "Life does that to you."

"So it does," Nichol agreed, and he glanced at Colm before going back to stirring his and Kith's dinner.

* * * * *

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