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"I would have thought it was the
domana
that kept the clans intact."

"The other castes feared that we would become cruel monsters like our fathers. The
sekasha
guard us—from harm and from ourselves. More than one
domana
has been put down by his own Hand."

"Why did
sekasha
want the
domana
in charge instead of just taking power themselves?"

It was as if Windwolf never considered the "why" of it. He frowned and thought for a minute. "I am not sure. It is the way they wanted it. Perhaps it was because with the
domana's
access to the spell stones, the
sekasha's
choices were limited to putting the
domana
in power, destroying the stones, or killing all the
domana
. While they are
sekasha
first, they are fiercely loyal to their clans. It is their nature to be so.

And as such, it would go against their nature to weaken their clan."

"So the spell stones and the
domana
stayed."

Windwolf nodded. "And we have had what passes as peace for thousands of years—because of the
sekasha
."

Tinker glanced over to where Pony and Stormsong stood. Close enough to protect. Far enough away to give her and Windwolf a sense of privacy. Who was really in charge? On the surface, it would seem she was—but if she was—why was she stuck with
sekasha
watching her when she would rather be alone?

"In the Westernlands, the Wind Clan has only the spell stones at Aum Renau." Windwolf returned to his magic lesson. "On the other side of the ocean, there are other sets.

"What's the range of a set?"

"The stones can reach one
mei
; Pittsburgh is one-third
mei
from the coast."

It finally explained one mysterious elfin measurement. Unlike human measurements which were exact, the
mei
was said to be roughly a thousand human miles but subject to change. At Aum Renau, Windwolf had shown her how he cast a trigger spell. It set up a quantum level resonance between him and the spell stones, in essence a conduit for the magic to follow. Power
jumped
the distance. It had been his demonstration at Aum Renau that had given her the idea of how to destroy both gates. Magic, though, could be influenced by the moon's orbit and other factors, so the exact distance would be variable—which fit the quantum-based system.

The distance limit also explained why only two clans were coming to help them deal with the oni.

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"So, the Stone Clan and Fire Clan each have a set of stones within a
mei
?"

"Yes."

"And spell stones from different clans can overlap." Tinker wanted to be sure she had it right.

"Yes. The
domana's
genetic key determines which one they pull from. The spells are slightly different. In the terms of battle, the Stone Clan is much weaker in attack, but they are superior in defense. Their specialty is mining, farming, and architecture."

Architecture was the forefather of engineering. It kind of made sense—her being Stone Clan and a genius in the hard science.

"Do we actually fight with them?"

"Yes and no. There has been no open warfare between the clans for two thousand years, not since the Fire Clan established the monarchy. To a human, that might seem like lasting peace, but my father saw battle as a young man, and our battles have merely become more covert. Fighting is limited to assassinations and formal duels."

The concept of elves wanting her dead was somewhat unnerving.

"You are under the queen's protection," Windwolf continued. "So you will be fairly safe from the other clans for the time being. I want to teach you, however, a shielding spell so you can defend yourself."

"Oh cool."

He laughed and distanced himself from the Rolls. "Have you been taught the rituals of prayer?"

She nodded.

"Good. First you must find your center, just as you do for a ritual." He stood straight and took a deep cleansing breath.

"Hold your fingers thus." He held out his right hand, thumb and index rigid, middle fingers cocked oddly.

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She copied the position and he made minute changes to her fingers.

"Each finger has several degrees.
Laedin
." He tucked her index finger into a tight curl, and then, gliding his finger along the top of hers, showed her that there needed to be a straight line from the back of her hand to the knuckle. "
Sekasha
." He uncurled her finger to the second knuckle and corrected a slight tendency to bend at the first knuckle. "
Domana.
" He had to hold her finger straight so she only bent the tip. "Full royal." This was a stiff finger.

"Bows to no one," Tinker said.

"Exactly. You must be careful with your hands. A broken finger can leave you defenseless.

"The first step is to call on the spell stones. You use a full suit—king and queen." These were thumb and pinkie held straight out. "
Domana, sekasha, laedin
."

Tinker laughed as she tried to get her fingers to cooperate.

"There are finger games you can play to get them to do this fluidly." He patiently corrected small mistakes in her hands. "In the base spells, correct positioning is not as vital, but later, a finger out of place will totally change the effect of your spell."

"This does get easier?"

"Yes, with practice.

"To call winds and cast the spells, you need to hold your hand before your mouth." He raised his hand to his mouth and demonstrated the desired distance and then dropped his hand to continue speaking. "Don't touch your face with your hand, but you should feel as if you're almost touching your nose. Also if you were to breathe out, like you were blowing out a candle, the center point of your breath would hit this center joint of your fingers."

"Okay." She held up her hand and found it was harder to not touch her nose than she thought.

"When I was little, my brothers and I would practice fighting with each other and in the heat of battle, sometimes we ended up punching ourselves in the nose."

Tinker laughed.

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"Now, listen to the command to call the winds, and then to cancel." He raised his right hand to his mouth. "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaae."

Tinker felt the tremor in the air around Windwolf, like a pulse of a bass amplifier, first against her magic sense, and then against her skin.

Mentally, she knew that his body was taking the place of a written spell; his voice started the resonance that would establish a link between him and the spell stones, over three hundred miles away. Despite everything she knew, his summoning of power out of thin air somehow seemed more magical than any act she'd ever witnessed.

He dismissed the power with another gesture and spoken command.

"Now, you try it."

She felt the magic resonance deep in her bones, and then it bloomed around her, enveloping her.

Carefully she dismissed it.

"Very good. Once you tap the stones, you are connected to them. That means you need to immediately use the power, or dismiss it. Casting a spell that you hold, like a shield, keeps the connection open until you end the spell. Casting a spell like a force strike breaks the link immediately."

She nodded her understanding, trusting that when he taught her the various spells, he would tell which category they fell into.

"The shielding spell I'm going to teach you is the most basic of all the spells, but it is very powerful. With the power that the spell stones tap, it is nearly impenetrable."

"Nearly?"

"I do not know anything that could breach it, but I am afraid that
you
might find something—so I put in a cautionary note."

She stuck out her tongue at him. "You make me sound like a troublemaker."

"You do not make trouble—it finds you. And it is always sorry when it does."

She laughed. "Flattery will get you everywhere."

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He kissed her then, making her melt against his body. They spent a few pleasant minutes kissing, and then he set her firmly down.

"You need to learn this, my love. You need to be able to protect yourself and your beholden."

"Yeah, I know. Teach away. I'm all ears."

"You summon the power and then shape it." He called forth the power, paused deliberately, and then changed the position of his hand and spoke a new command. The magic pulsing with potential changed, distorting the air around them so they stood inside a transparent sphere.

He held his stance. "Nothing can get in unless you allow it. It will last as long as you desire—but you must be careful with your movements." He moved slowly around to demonstrate the range of motion desired to maintain the shield. "Notice you must keep your hand in the correct position. If you shift your fingers or move your hand too quickly, you lose the connection for the shield."

He flapped his hands loosely and the shields vanished.

"Ugh!" Tinker cried. "It seems dangerously easy to lose your shield when you least want to."

"There are weaker shields that don't require you to hold your position. The
sekasha
spell, for example, allows them to continue fighting without disrupting their shield. The difference in strength is—" He paused to consider a comparison. "—an inch of steel versus a foot."

"Oooh. I see." That messed with her head. She had assumed that
sekasha
provided protection to the
domana
during battle—keeping them safe as they called down lightning and such. It seemed that the truth was that the
domana
were heavy tanks during fighting. They were able to take massive damage as well as deal it. It seemed that the
sekasha
must be for day-to-day life, allowing the
domana
to sleep and eat without fear.

Windwolf called up the shield again and this time showed her how to properly cancel the shield. "It is best for you to get into the habit of intentionally dropping the shield rather than just relaxing your position."

It seemed easy enough, once you got past bending your fingers into pretzels. Tinker managed to initialize the resonance conduit, trigger the shield spell, hold it for a minute, and then cancel the shield spell.

"What about air? If you keep up the shield, do you run out of air?"

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"No. Air slowly leaches in, as does heat and cold. The shield will protect you for a period of time in fire, but eventually the heat and smoke will overcome you."

"Ah, good to know."

"Someone comes," Stormsong murmured softly, looking east.

The
sekasha
pulled in tight as they watched the eastern skyline.

"Listen," Wraith Arrow said.

After a moment, Tinker heard the low drone of engines in the distance.

"It has to be the dreadnaught," Windwolf said.

"They're coming," Tinker murmured, wondering who "they" might be.

"Yes." Windwolf tugged on her wrist. "We need to return to the enclave."

Tinker glanced at him in surprise. She would have thought they would stay to greet the newcomers.

"I am not sure who the queen has sent," Windwolf explained. "I want to look our best. Can you change quickly?"

She supposed it depended on your idea of quickly. "I think I can. What should I wear?"

"The bronze gown, please."

"That's not the most formal one I have."

He smiled warmly at her. "Yes, but I love to see you in it."

She blushed and tried not to worry about how she was going to get into the dress quickly.

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As they got into the Rolls, a shadow passed overhead accompanied by the low rumble of large engines.

A dreadnaught slid out from behind the hill to hover near the treeline. She'd forgotten how massive the blend of airship and armored helicopter was; it dwarfed the ironwoods, its four massive rotor blades beating a storm of leaves out into the meadow. Barrels of heavy guns bristled from the black hull, like the spiked hide of a river shark. The gossamer moored at the clearing stirred nervously in the presence of the large predator-like craft. As they watched, the mooring lines were cast off and the gossamer gave way to the dreadnaught.

The thumping of the rotors suddenly echoed into her memories of her dream. In the background, constantly, had been the same sound.

She shivered at the foreknowledge, and wondered what her dream had been trying to warn her of.

9: TRUE FLAME

At Poppymeadow's enclave, she discovered one of the
sekasha
had called ahead. Half the females of Windwolf's staff ambushed her at the door and hurried her to her room. She tried not to mind as they clucked and fussed over her, pulling her out of clothes, washing her face, neck, and hands, and pulling the formal gown over her head. Certainly she wouldn't be able to dress quickly without them, but their nervousness infected her.

At least she was confident about how she looked. The dress was a deep, rich, mottled bronze that looked lovely against her dusky skin. Over the bronze silk was another layer of fine, nearly invisible fabric with a green leaf design, so that when the bronze silk moved, it seemed like sunlight through forest leaves.

Unfortunately, it still had long sleeves that ended in a fingerless glove arrangement and the dainty matching slippers.

"Oh please, can I wear boots?"

"You'll be outside, so the boots are appropriate," Lemonseed proclaimed, and her best suede ankle boots were produced, freshly brushed.