Page 63

They could hear the stretching of muscles, the popping of bones, as the transformation took place. Sister Nan-Tamé and Captain Milford exchanged glances. The bear pelt wrapped around its bearer like a swaddling blanket, and melted into the rest of him.

After a handful of moments, a hulking bear shook its shaggy head and looked around.

Heiler raised an eyebrow, then reached out a hand and put it on the bear’s flank, scratching its fur like he would with a trained hunting dog. When Sythius did not respond, except to glance sidelong at him, the boy smirked.

Sister Nan-Tamé stepped forward. “Impressive,” she said. As always, her voice was cultured, calm, and not even the captain could guess what she was thinking. But there was something in her normally regal eyes that belied her impeccable façade.

“Mama—that is, my Lady Mother thinks that you would be able to help him learn to ... smooth out the transformation,” Heiler said. “She called it skin-walking.”

“It’s rough,” Sister Nan-Tamé said. “I’ve seen ... similar skills before, in Jul Nastae. He did not learn from a master, or a school.” She, too, put out a hand and touched the bear. “This is no illusion.”

Jul Nastae, cult city of Saint Ulria. 

The Bed of Wisdom, where the greatest scholars worldwide gathered to record, and share, their knowledge. It was no surprise to anyone that Sister Nan-Tamé would have been there before. As a priestess tasked with Ulria’s tenets, she would have trained there. Likely, she'd spent her childhood there.

“... Are you saying that this man,” Heiler said slowly, “is showing us magic that hasn’t been seen in the Great Library?”

It was the commander’s turn to smirk. “... It certainly seems so.”

* * *

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