Free Beyond the Prophecy by Meredith Mansfield Page B

rocks is harder than it sounds,” he
said as they mounted to ride back to the farm at noon.
    “It takes practice to do it smoothly,” Thekila agreed.
“You’re making good progress.”
    Theklan grinned at that.
    ~
    As they rode back out to the headland that afternoon, Vatar
noticed a few more people heading back toward the city on the far peninsula.
Possibly they’d gone out to assess the blocked shipping channel. He shrugged
away his misgivings about displaying his magic. Those people might wonder at
the change the next time they looked, but it wasn’t likely they’d associate it
with him or Thekila or Theklan. Let them think their Sea Gods had done it.
    The western clouds were turning pinkish by the time they
stopped that afternoon. “We’ve done about as much as we can as far as breaking
that big one up goes.” Vatar frowned. “I won’t be able to help you much
tomorrow.”
    Thekila tilted her head to one side. “You’ve borrowed my
Power before. I know you have even less practice than Theklan, but you should
be able to lift some of the smaller rocks.”
    Vatar’s face scrunched up in thought. “I always thought that
was exactly what I was doing—borrowing your Power. We can’t both use it at the
same time, can we? Or would it just be . . . I don’t know, split between us. So
that we each could only lift half as much as you could by yourself.”
    Thekila chewed her lip. “Well, that sharing of Power works
both ways. My ability to lift is greater than it was before we were bound. I
think that’s fueled by your Talents. But, even so . . . you could be right.”
She shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out. We’ll have to test it.” She
stared out at the opposite cliff for a moment. “What worries me is controlling
those large blocks. It’s not how much they weigh—though that’s an issue. But
they’re a very awkward shape.”
    “I don’t understand,” Vatar said.
    Thekila gestured at a small rock by the side of the path and
it rose up to eye-level. “It doesn’t matter much with small rocks. You don’t
really have to worry very much about the balance.” She raised a larger flat
stone in the same way. This one tended to tilt from one end to the other as if
her Power were a fulcrum. “But, as the rocks get bigger, it starts to matter. A
roundish rock this size is still no problem. This one . . . well, it’s hard to
find the balance point, so it takes more work to lift it reliably. If I try to
move one of those big pieces, there’s a good chance it’ll tip too much and just
fall back into the water.”
    Vatar stared at the flat rock still wiggling in the air for
a moment. “You know, back when I was an apprentice, we were sometimes put to
work moving finished items and raw materials for the masters. Some items—like,
say, an iron gate—usually took two apprentices to move. Not because they were
too heavy as much as because they were unwieldy. Just like that rock. It was
easier to balance with an apprentice on each end.”
    He reached out with a thread of borrowed Power and used it
to lift just one end of the rock. The rock tipped vertical for a moment. Then
Thekila redirected her power to the other end and the rock steadied, perfectly
level.
    She grinned. “It could work. We’d need really good
coordination. After all, we don’t have to just lift it. We have to move it out
of the channel, too.”
    “Lucky we’re bound, then,” Vatar said. “There’s no better
way to coordinate our efforts that I can think of.” He glanced over at
Theklan’s flushed face. “But that’s a problem for tomorrow, I think.” He
stretched his shoulders as if they were stiff. He was fine. But he didn’t think
the boy should do any more of this kind of work today. “I’ve had one brush with
near burn out. It’s not an experience I care to repeat.”
    Thekila followed his glance. “You’re right. No point in
pushing to the point where we can’t finish the job.”
    As they rode back