The nanny bleated and trotted to its mistress.
The girl dropped a hand to the goat’s head, almost absently, her eyes not leaving Thor’s face. “What do you want?”
He smiled and nodded to the nanny, the kid still in his arms. It took him a moment to find the language and lift it from her mind.
“I found your goat on the hill.” The words did not fall as easily from his tongue as he might have wished, though it was only a slight variation from that which was spoken in the southern peninsula. He cleared his throat. “This one has a broken leg, I’m afraid, but I thought you might like it back.”
The girl hesitated, her fingers tightening around the staff. The dog was at her side now, its ears perked forward and its head low.
“Meh!” the nanny said. The kid bleated back, and the girl’s gaze shifted, softening at the sight of the animal he held. She set the staff aside and reached for the kid.
“Thank you,” she said, her fingers moving over the bones of the front leg. She frowned. “What happened to him?”
“He fell into a fissure. By the look of the leg, it can’t be too terrible a break. If you set it, he should be just fine in a few weeks.”
“Can you find me something to splint it?” She sat down carefully on the ground, the kid in her lap, and began to tear a strip of cloth from the bottom of her skirt. He didn’t think she could be more than twelve years old, though she worked with the seriousness of someone older.
There were plenty of branches to pick from, though the younger and greener the more it would bend. He settled on one as thick around as the kid’s leg, and snapped it into two lengths. It was another moment’s work to strip the twigs. He pulled lightning through his hand and burned the bark free, leaving the wood slightly charred but smooth.
“Oh!”
She was watching the smoke rise through his fingers, her eyes wide. He smiled again and crouched down in front of her, handing her the wood. “If I’d left the bark, it would have worn rough against his leg. This will be better.”
She took the wood without looking at it. “But how did you do that?”
He opened his hands, showing her his palms, then brushed the soot from them. “I just can.”
“Didn’t it hurt?”
He shook his head. “Not at all.”
Her forehead creased and she dropped her gaze to the kid in her lap, taking the branches and the cloth and splinting them against the leg. He could hear her mind, buzzing over what she’d seen, trying to understand. But she was young enough, he hoped, that she would believe.
“What else can you do?” she asked, after she had finished tying the splint, and set the kid back to its feet by the mother.
Thor helped her up from the ground, and glanced at the sky. It was sunny and bright, clear and cloudless. “See that tree, there?”
He pointed toward a medium sized oak, its boughs heavy with green leaves, and she nodded. Torching the hill would not make him a very welcome guest, and while he could have chosen one already dead, it would be more likely to catch fire.
“Don’t blink,” he said. “And don’t be frightened.”
Thor closed his eyes, and called to the static in the air, drawing it together and focusing it into the sky around the tree. He could feel the moisture following, like a sweat breaking out on a hot day, and didn’t stop the cloud from forming, though he could have. He opened his eyes and traced the path from the cloud to the tree in his mind.
There was a flash of white where the lightning followed, crawling over the tree and into the earth, singeing leaves and branches on its way. The thunderclap was immediate, startling the goats and causing the dog to start barking. But Thor paid no attention to the animals, his gaze on the girl.
Her face was white as bone and she did not turn to look at him. “You did that?”
Smoke rose from the tree, and he rang the moisture from the cloud that had formed, focusing the rain into a deluge over the
The girl dropped a hand to the goat’s head, almost absently, her eyes not leaving Thor’s face. “What do you want?”
He smiled and nodded to the nanny, the kid still in his arms. It took him a moment to find the language and lift it from her mind.
“I found your goat on the hill.” The words did not fall as easily from his tongue as he might have wished, though it was only a slight variation from that which was spoken in the southern peninsula. He cleared his throat. “This one has a broken leg, I’m afraid, but I thought you might like it back.”
The girl hesitated, her fingers tightening around the staff. The dog was at her side now, its ears perked forward and its head low.
“Meh!” the nanny said. The kid bleated back, and the girl’s gaze shifted, softening at the sight of the animal he held. She set the staff aside and reached for the kid.
“Thank you,” she said, her fingers moving over the bones of the front leg. She frowned. “What happened to him?”
“He fell into a fissure. By the look of the leg, it can’t be too terrible a break. If you set it, he should be just fine in a few weeks.”
“Can you find me something to splint it?” She sat down carefully on the ground, the kid in her lap, and began to tear a strip of cloth from the bottom of her skirt. He didn’t think she could be more than twelve years old, though she worked with the seriousness of someone older.
There were plenty of branches to pick from, though the younger and greener the more it would bend. He settled on one as thick around as the kid’s leg, and snapped it into two lengths. It was another moment’s work to strip the twigs. He pulled lightning through his hand and burned the bark free, leaving the wood slightly charred but smooth.
“Oh!”
She was watching the smoke rise through his fingers, her eyes wide. He smiled again and crouched down in front of her, handing her the wood. “If I’d left the bark, it would have worn rough against his leg. This will be better.”
She took the wood without looking at it. “But how did you do that?”
He opened his hands, showing her his palms, then brushed the soot from them. “I just can.”
“Didn’t it hurt?”
He shook his head. “Not at all.”
Her forehead creased and she dropped her gaze to the kid in her lap, taking the branches and the cloth and splinting them against the leg. He could hear her mind, buzzing over what she’d seen, trying to understand. But she was young enough, he hoped, that she would believe.
“What else can you do?” she asked, after she had finished tying the splint, and set the kid back to its feet by the mother.
Thor helped her up from the ground, and glanced at the sky. It was sunny and bright, clear and cloudless. “See that tree, there?”
He pointed toward a medium sized oak, its boughs heavy with green leaves, and she nodded. Torching the hill would not make him a very welcome guest, and while he could have chosen one already dead, it would be more likely to catch fire.
“Don’t blink,” he said. “And don’t be frightened.”
Thor closed his eyes, and called to the static in the air, drawing it together and focusing it into the sky around the tree. He could feel the moisture following, like a sweat breaking out on a hot day, and didn’t stop the cloud from forming, though he could have. He opened his eyes and traced the path from the cloud to the tree in his mind.
There was a flash of white where the lightning followed, crawling over the tree and into the earth, singeing leaves and branches on its way. The thunderclap was immediate, startling the goats and causing the dog to start barking. But Thor paid no attention to the animals, his gaze on the girl.
Her face was white as bone and she did not turn to look at him. “You did that?”
Smoke rose from the tree, and he rang the moisture from the cloud that had formed, focusing the rain into a deluge over the
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