Free The Caller by Juliet Marillier

say no tae ye, because o’ what ye are? Isna that the nature o’ a Caller?’
    ‘I don’t want to force anyone into anything. If I could learn to call only those willing to fight for the cause, that’s what I’d do. If learning the magic of air will help me refine my call further, or make it stronger, or ensure it does not draw beings who would be quickly destroyed by Keldec’s army, I will be deeply grateful.’
    ‘Oh, aye.’
    ‘While I was in the Lord of the North’s hall, he had me work with his warriors. I am able to use the call more strategically now. I learned to call folk from a long distance, and to call beings I had not seen before, only imagined from a description. I practised directing the actions of several folk at once, in a mock combat, for instance. That was not so hard, given that the beings concerned were willing volunteers. The Lord’s folk have a good understanding of what is at stake for all of us.’
    ‘What o’ the south, and the magic o’ fire? If this king has a fellow can conjure wi’ flame, ye’ll need a defence against it.’
    ‘I intend to visit the Master of Shadows when I leave here, not only for that, but to ask for a defence against cold iron. Unless we can protect them, many of the smaller Good Folk, the forest dwellers in particular, will soon perish if they are part of our challenge to the king. We’ve planned it for the next midsummer Gathering. Every troop of Enforcers will be at Summerfort, along with the personal armies of the chieftains of Alban. Our own fighters would soon be cut down if they could not use their iron weaponry. If there were a spell that could be cast over all those who fought against the king . . .’
    ‘Ye dinna imagine,’ the Lady said, ‘that if the Master o’ Shadows had such a spell he would gie it tae ye for free?’
    ‘He seemed well disposed toward me,’ I ventured. ‘He is a volatile being, yes. Changeable, full of tricks. But . . . wouldn’t he consider the cause of freedom important enough? I must at least ask him.’
    ‘Ye’re crazy.’
    There was nothing I could say to this, so I sat quietly instead, practising slow breathing.
    ‘’Tis a lot for a lassie to take on herself,’ the Lady said eventually. ‘A grand big task, sae grand a body can hardly get a picture o’ it. Ye’ve got a stubborn streak in ye, that’s plain. Comes frae that grandmother o’ yours, nae doot.’
    Sudden tears sprang to my eyes. The wee bright folk murmured among themselves, and the one on my right shoulder flew up to brush my cheek with its wings.
    ‘Ye miss her.’
    ‘My family’s gone. I wouldn’t wish them back; not into Alban the way it is now.’
    ‘Oh, aye. Now, tae the matter o’ what I can teach ye. This rebellion, this challenge . . . at the Gatherin’, ye say? Wi’ a great army against ye, an army well trained and loyal tae the king. Hae ye considered what might happen when ye stand up, a wee lassie like yourself, and speak words o’ defiance before that crowd? Once they start tae fight it’ll be a’ stirred up like a pot o’ porridge boilin’ on the fire. Ye willna be able tae tell friend frae foe. Sheer bloody carnage, it’ll be. This king, he willna wait for ye tae finish your speech before he orders the killin’ tae start. As for callin’ in uncanny folk tae help ye, the best Caller in a’ the history o’ Alban wouldna be heard ower such a clamour.’
    I gritted my teeth, swallowing those weak tears. ‘We have allies,’ I said. ‘Human allies as well as Good Folk. Three chieftains of Alban and their men-at-arms. On the day, our uncanny allies will be close enough for me to be able to call them easily, but concealed by magic. I’ll need to get the timing exactly right.’
    ‘Let’s suppose ye get tae Summerfort in time,’ said the Lady. ‘Let’s imagine your folk are a’ in position as ye planned. Ye stand up and say your wee speech, and the king’s men attack ye. Your rebels rush intae battle, and find