Beyond the Prophecy by Meredith Mansfield Page A

really big pieces had been moved and the
channel was clear enough for all but the largest ships.
    Vatar nodded. “That’s enough.” He grimaced at the expanded
audience. “The dredgers can take it from here. Let’s go home.”

Chapter
10: Compulsion
     
    Theklan started down the hill to the Temple School without
complaint. Usually, he dawdled until Thekila drove him out of the gate because
he found the classes designed for Fasallon youths so boring. Today, though, he
thought he wouldn’t mind the quiet of the classroom, away from the noise of the
twins at play and Vatar hammering in his forge. Normally, those sounds didn’t
bother him, but today they made his head throb.
    He stopped at the turn in the road where it was possible to
look out toward the ocean. Palace Island dominated the foreground, but on a
clear day, it was possible to see all the way to the mouth of the bay. That
might be visible by midday. Right now, the morning overcast still obscured
things that far out. Nevertheless, his chest rose with pride at the thought of
what they’d accomplished over the last three days.
    He squinted and averted his gaze when a sunbeam broke
through the overcast and reflected back off the water. The constant ache behind
his eyes had started just before they quit for the day yesterday. He hadn’t
said anything about it. He really had expected it to be gone by this morning.
And he was afraid if he mentioned it that Thekila would never let him help with
any real work like that again.
    Still, perhaps it was just as well that the Temple School
didn’t start teaching the use of what they called Talent and his people called
Power until the students were a year or two older than Theklan. A day or two
without using magic might be what he needed to shake this headache. He
continued down the hill toward the Temple Gate.
    Reaching his classroom, Theklan started toward the middle
row of tables, where some of his friends were already sitting. He stopped when
the teacher called out to him.
    “Ah, Theklan. Good, you’re back.”
    “Thank you, sir.” Theklan took another step toward his seat.
    “You’ve been summoned to see the High Priest himself when
you returned to us,” the teacher went on.
    Theklan swallowed hard and turned. “Sir, I was absent at my
family’s—”
    The teacher waved a hand. “Oh, you’re not in trouble. No. I
think Montibeus means to commend you for your . . . ah . . . efforts over the last few days.”
    Theklan couldn’t help smiling at that. Vatar was funny about
magic, but it felt good to have someone important acknowledge his efforts.
    The teacher gestured to a boy in the front row who Theklan
didn’t know well. “Peleus, show Theklan the way.” He narrowed his eyes at the
boy. “Then come straight back here.”
    “What was it you did?” Peleus asked as he led the way deeper
into the Temple complex.
    Theklan flushed a little. “My sister and her husband let me
help them.”
    “With what?”
    “We used our Powers—our Talents—to move the rocks out of the
shipping channel.”
    Peleus stopped in the middle of the corridor. “You can do
that?”
    Theklan shrugged. “It’s a common gift where we come from.”
He shuffled his feet a little at the other boy’s astonished regard. “I mostly
moved the smaller rocks. Vatar and Thekila teamed up to handle the big,
unwieldy ones.”
    “That’s interesting to know.”
    Both boys looked up to see who the speaker was. Theklan
tensed a little on recognizing High Priest Montibeus. He’d only seen the man a
few times before, but the blue, green, and white robes were unmistakable.
    Montibeus put a hand on Theklan’s shoulder. “I trust you
were coming to see me. Let’s go to my office for a little talk, shall we?” He
waved dismissal at Peleus. “You can return to your class now.”
    Montibeus led Theklan back to his office and then had the
boy recite the efforts of the last few days, stopping him frequently to ask
questions. When he was