(Many of these characters and countries and such are Tamora Pierce's, but if you're reading this then you probably know the books well enough to tell which ones are and aren't my imagination.)
(My first fan fic, many more chapters to come if I get reviews.)
Verilidaine Sarrasri strolled through the edges of what was growing to be a large forest. It was the very height of spring, and the air was full of the sounds and smells of life. Each and every plant was in full bloom, and animals were in abundance; Daine could feel them everywhere. About four yards behind her she could sense two squirrels and a rabbit trailing after her curiously. Whenever she stopped to peer behind her, the small animals would also pause in their tracks and gaze in what they thought was a surreptitious way around bushes to get a good look at this strange creature that was exploring their forest. They could tell that it was neither People nor Two-legger, but what it was exactly was much beyond their knowledge.
Daine was new in this area of Tortall. She and Numair had been moving around for quite a while now, and in each place she had made friends with the animals and the people in the surrounding areas.
Laughing quietly, Daine turned around and knelt down onto the mossy floor of the wood. You don't need to be afraid of me. She told the rodents through her mind.
One adventurous squirrel hopped forward a few steps. How did you get like that? He asked. Daine had run across this problem many times before.
"I'm a Two-legger with a bit of People inside me," she explained, now speaking aloud. She placed her hand on her chest, indicating her heart, where she always imagined that her copper-flamed Gift resided.
You are like…a People inside a Two-legger?
"Sort of," chuckled Daine, "What's your name?"
Quickfoot.
"Hello, Quickfoot. I'm just exploring the forest. I hope the People don't mind."
We don't! Quickfoot assured her. You're a nice Two-legger.
"Thank you." Daine grinned. She got up from her knees, not bothering to wipe the damp dirt from her breeches, but brushing a smoky brown curl away from her eyes.
Wait! Quickfoot called out. What about the other Two-legger? For a moment Daine thought that Quickfoot meant Numair, and wondered how they knew about him.
"That Two-legger…he's my mate," she explained, blushing slightly. Quickfoot seemed confused.
If he is your mate, then why is he killing the People? Daine realized with a start that the squirrel was not referring to Numair at all, but to some other human. "Wh-what?" she stammered.
He is short, by Two-legger standards. He carries the part of a tree that kills People. He is your mate?
"No!" exclaimed Daine. She recognized that the "part of a tree" that Quickfoot spoke of was a bow. "My mate does not hunt. I was mistaken."
He is here now, the other Two-legger. Just beyond those trees.
"Thank you." Daine told him kindly. She understood that the animals in the area were naturally concerned about humans hunting, but there was nothing that Daine could do about that. Not everyone in Tortall was a vegetarian. Come to think of it, no one in Tortall was a vegetarian. Just to pacify the small being, who was clearly agitated at the presence of the hunter, she made her way in the direction that Quickfoot had indicated. She passed through a thick copse of fir trees, and into a clearing. The scene she arrived upon made her gasp.
There was indeed a man in the clearing. He was a short, grizzled man; who had his bow sighted on a doe that grazed on the other side of the stretch of grass, clearly oblivious to the danger. Hearing Daine's gasp and sensing her in the vicinity, the deer twisted its head quickly, and spotting the threat, bounded away into the trees, her tail raised in fright. The hunter cursed and swung around to see who had interrupted him at such a crucial moment. He stared at Daine with fixed, piggy eyes.
"Stupid girl!" he spat, advancing on her. She stood tall, unafraid, her eyes blazing.
"You're breaking the law!" she declared, not caring how imperious and snobby she sounded. "According to the newest decree of King Jonathan, it is illegal to kill female deer during the first two months of spring!" Daine was very familiar with this law; she had invented it herself back when the deer population had been falling dangerously fast. It was because of over-hunting that the loss had been happening, and it had taken Daine a long time to convince Jonathan that change needed to happen. Apparently the law wasn't being enforced as well as it should have been.
"Ye don't fool me, talkin' all noble an' such!" the man growled. "Yer a common girl, an' I know that ye can't do nothin'! More'n that, ye just cost me a whole deer!" He raised his meaty fist in a threatening way.
"Go ahead," urged Daine smugly. She knew that if he tried to hit her, she could defend herself better than he realized. Furthermore, she did not believe that he had the guts, for all his bluster.
"Hey!" a small but courageous voice called from the other side of the clearing. "Hands off the lady!" Surprised, the man turned around to stare at what Daine could already see. A young boy of perhaps ten years of age stood on the other edge of the clearing, his fists doubled up and his brow furrowed. Daine winced. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and this little boy was only going to get himself into trouble by trying to help her. Too late she realized that the overly-brave boy was making a charge at the hunter, his head bent and his feet flying. Before he could slam his stubborn head into the man's stomach, however, the man shoved the boy roughly away so that he crashed into an oak tree. Almost too fast for Daine's eyes to comprehend, a thin branch whipped down and slashed the man across the face.
His hand flew to the cut, which was bleeding sluggishly. He stared in horror at the small boy, who was breathing heavily and glaring with an intensity that was surprising for one so small.
"That…that was magic!" the man gasped. The boy grinned evilly.
"Maybe it was."
The man turned and fled without another word. Daine approached the boy.
"Are you alright?" she asked him. He was still leaning against the tree.
"I'm fine. How about you, my lady?" he asked, taking her hand and kissing it. Daine drew it away quickly.
"Thank you for attempting to save me, but I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. What I really want to know is whether or not that was magic that just happened." The boy's smile faded.
"I…I don't know. The mages say I haven't got any gift. Margory had me tested at least five times. But the plants, they've always done what I've asked them. That man who just tried to hit you, Darren Strongarm, he's afraid of magic and everyone knows it. So I had to."
Daine's mind was whirling. What the boy was saying sounded exactly like the rhetoric she herself had used many times before she found out about wild magic. "What is your name?" she asked him.
"Pieter," he answered.
"I think you should come with me, Pieter."
Pieter eyed Daine suspiciously. "Why?" he asked. Daine sighed inwardly. It was a long story, but she would have to tell the short version.
"Look, I'm a mage, too, but a special one. No one knew I had magic until a kind man thought to look farther. I have something called wild magic. I can talk to animals and heal them, and change into them, among other things."
"You can TURN into an ANIMAL?" Pieter gasped. Daine nodded.
"Yes. Now that man, his name is Numair Salmalin, and I are going around the country searching for other wild mages to teach. Most don't realize that they have the Gift at all, let alone a special type."
Pieter looked confused. "But I can't talk to animals!" he protested.
"No, but you can talk to plants."
"Well technically plants don't talk, they just—"
"You understand what I mean, though? Your Gift might even be unique!"
"Yeah…I think so." He didn't sound so sure. "Prove it!" he exclaimed suddenly.
"What?" asked Daine, taken aback.
"Prove that you're telling the truth. Turn into a cat, or something."
"I…I can't." muttered Daine, somewhat embarrassed. "I'd lose all my clothes."
"Oh," said Pieter, blushing.
"But I can do this!" Daine extended her hand toward him and concentrated her thoughts on the large cats she had once seen in the menagerie in Carthak. Her hand quickly morphed into a huge orange paw, which looked odd compared to her more slender arms. Pieter gasped and took a step back. He examined the paw carefully from a safe three feet away.
"Wow," he said.
"Now will you come with me?" she asked. He bowed.
"I'd be glad to, my lady. If you change that back." He pointed at the paw. Daine changed back to her normal human hand.
"Okay, but stop calling me 'my lady'. I'm not a lady." Pieter looked surprised.
"I know, young maiden. I just like calling you that." He bowed to her deeply. Daine turned and began walking the other direction, and he was quick to follow.
"I'm not one to be romanced by ten year-olds, thank you." She told him curtly. He looked truly offended.
"I am twelve!" Pieter practically shouted. Daine paused and looked him over.
"Are you really?"
"Of course. Ask anyone. Ask Margory. She's known me all my life." Daine sincerely doubted that this scrawny, blonde boy was twelve years old, but she forewent any further discussion on the subject.
"Can I ask you some questions now?" she asked the small boy, though of course she did not need his permission.
"I suppose," he answered.
"First of all, where did you learn to talk like that?"
"Like what?"
"All proper and such. Like, 'I suppose.'" Pieter shrugged.
"Margory has always been particular on my speech."
"Who is this 'Margory you talk about? Your mother?"
"No. Margory takes care of me. My ma died when I was ten. She was carried off by spidrens." Pieter said this without any emotion in his voice. Daine suspected he had had to repeat it many times to strangers. "Ma was a servant at the fief, so Margory, the head gardener, took me in."
"You work at Fief Realan?"
"Yes."
"Numair and I are staying there, too. We are guests of Lord Yorin of Realan."
"Oh." Pieter didn't look surprised at this fact. Daine wondered if all travelers coming from the palace in Corus were invited to stay with Lord Yorin. Certainly he had been eager for news of Corus and the goings-on there.
"What about your father? Where is he?"
"I don't know. I never knew. He passed through the castle a long time ago. I don't know if my ma even really knew him. Secret lovers, you see," he confided to Daine in an undertone. She looked at him, surprised at how wise he sounded at the age of twelve…or whatever. He continued, "You and that Numer man are lovers, too. I can tell." Daine's cheeks burned bright scarlet.
"Numair, you mean? How…how can you tell?"
"Just the way you talk about him. No matter. I can deal with some competition." Pieter chucked Daine on the arm, and she stared at him, almost running into a tree as she walked without looking at her surroundings.
"Are you always so friendly to strangers?" she asked, slightly amused.
"Only the pretty ones," was his cheeky answer. If Daine had been a typical court lady, she might have been scandalized. Luckily for Pieter, Daine was far from the typical court lady. Although, she thought, maybe he could tell that on his own. After all, she was wearing a tunic and breeches. Good point. She said to herself. They emerged from the forest onto a large dirt road that led up through the village and all the way into the fief.
"Once we get there, you should introduce me to Margory. Then," she continued. "You'll meet Numair, and we'll see what he makes of you."
"Oh. Fantastic," mumbled Pieter. Daine couldn't tell whether or not he was being sarcastic.