by K. M. Hade
Then it’s gone, and the world snaps shut.
Strange, glimmering snow rains around us. I hold out one hand as the flood of magic ebbs. Crystal dust and flakes rain from the sky. It stings the skin like glass as it settles over everything.
“Don’t look up!” one of the Mages shouts. “It’ll get in your eyes!”
Magic dances through me, reckless and eager. My body glows. Light rolls off me in a glowing fog. My Aether burns bright, intense blue. My horse shakes and snorts.
Through the circle of massive crystal spears the Warden glares at me, his face visible between a gap no wider than his arm.
Holy shit, that actually worked.
The crystal-glass-snow is still falling, and it’s itchy. I’ve got to get out of here before it hurts my horse. “Now you’ll have more crystal than you’ll ever need for your sick experiments, Warden. Go ahead and have plenty on hand for when the military comes to ask you questions!”
Inside the crystal prison, something crunches.
With two Aegis forged from Stone Mages and a Metal, that prison won’t hold eight angry Aethers long. The Aether-glass falling from the sky might slow them down a bit longer. Not much time. And they’ve got at least two canine-type familiars to track scents.
I stuff my magic back down. Like trying to stuff a wet cat into a box. My horse is all too happy to canter away from the scene.
3
CRYSTAL
About a mile down the road, my horse slows on its own to a jog. It glimmers from the Aether dust coating us. My familiar shifts into snake form and slithers up my arm. It flicks its tongue at me.
“I can’t believe that worked, snake.”
It hisses and twists itself about.
“We’ve got to find the others,” I tell it, shaky and raw. The horse continues its jog down the road with a little prodding from my heels. “And we’ve got to figure out what to do about those canine familiars.”
A serpentine head bob. The dark eyes absorb all the sunlight like two deep pits.
A few miles down the road, something zooms around my head. I swat at it, then remember Atrament’s warning. I pull my horse up.
A little black hummingbird hovers in front of my face.
It zooms off, leading me back about a hundred yards to a barely visible deer path.
Once I’m on the path, the fresh hoof tracks in the soft terrain are obvious. Up ahead are trees and the promise of shadow and shade. I follow the hummingbird up the path, urging my horse into a tired trot. The path leads into the trees, and to a slight, hollowed out basin in the bug-laden shade. The trees are massive around the bottom and reach tall, creating a cool (if muggy, swampy, and very buggy) sanctuary from the brutal sunlight.
Atrament is by my side in an instant. “Are you hurt?”
“No, no, just exhausted,” I say, trying to take in the little encampment. “My horse is—”
“I’ll look after him.” Rot takes my horse over to a cluster of three especially big trees and goes to the other side, where the other horses are hidden. ScatheFire (bag still on his head) is propped up against one tree.
“You made it.” Blood runs his hands over my arms, his tone full of words that make me dizzy.
“Stop.” I pull away. My magic is too exhausted for whatever is going on.
“Let her catch her breath,” Atrament demands as Smoke and Blood hover worriedly.
They put me down against the edge of the basin. I close my eyes for a minute, letting the last of my magic drain away.
“How many are dead?” Blood crouches at one of my shoulders. Smoke is at the other. Atrament is by my feet.
“None. Didn’t even have to hurt them. At least… I hope I didn’t hurt any of them.”
“What did you do?” Smoke inquires.
“Played possum and trapped them in a prison of crystal spears. They’ll break out soon. Told them we had to split up, and you left me behind to head south through the low lands, but there’s a problem.”
“Which is?” Blood focuses.
“They’ve got two canine familiars. They’ll track us here. I told them you guys are going overland to the south, but the scent will lead them here. I hope someone’s got a trick for that, because I don’t.”
Smoke slicks his sweaty hair back. Without a word, he crawls over the edge of the bowl and jogs towards the road. Rot gives me a grin. “Be right back.”
Atrament slides an arm behind my shoulders and Blood holds a water skein to my lips. “Here, drink.”
I swallow a few mouthfuls, but my attention is on Smoke and Rot. They’re out on the main road, with both familiars in animal form. Smoke’s bird is on the ground and snaps its wicked beak as Rot’s horse tries to nibble its feathery head. The horse makes that laugh-whicker noise and swishes its tail. I tell the sword next to me, “Go help them, snake.”
My familiar switches forms and slithers through the grass at lightening speed.
“ScatheFire’s cat would be useful right now too,” Blood says. “It has a mile range.”
“Really?” I ask.
“It’s pretty useless except as a bed warmer and for long-range scouting, not that it does what you ask it to do half the time.”
“I think you like this cat. In fact, it sounds a lot like you.”
He tugs my sweaty hair and plants a kiss on my lips. Then yanks back and releases me, expression surprised.
Atrament saves the awkward day by saying, “They’re starting.”
Smoke pulls hand over hand. A thin, wispy smoke pools around his feet. My familiar curls up Rot’s leg and arm and twists around his neck like a necklace to get away from the vapors.
The chime of a Fell hoof against rock rattles my magic. Should I sense that so far away? There’s no time to think about it. The wispy smoke rolls along the ground, increasing in distance until it’s almost halfway to us and rotates slowly in a thin disc. Smoke’s eyes are closed and he’s concentrating on keeping the smoke exactly correct: thin, not too strong, and vast. His concentration strains and creaks as he pushes himself harder, the Fell thread ringing like hooves on cobblestone. I pull my own magic inward, afraid my squirmy Aether will disturb his careful concentration.
His familiar hops around, flapping its wings to drive the smoke.
Rot crouches down and puts one hand on the road, looking back the way we’ve come. A Fell hoof strikes rock, and I wince again. Rot’s concentration pulls at my teeth as he closes his eyes. “What’s he doing?”
“Finding our trail,” Blood says.
“Are you well, Lady Crystal?” Atrament asks with concern.
“I’m fine, just feels like all of me’s blistered, and I want a nap,” I say, focusing on the magical skill in front of me while my magic cries about it.
“He’s finding our trail and altering it,” Blood elaborates. “Rotting it. Now there goes the horse to take the brew he’s made to smear the altered scent around to confuse the dogs.”
His horse trots off back down the road and disappears from sight. Smoke’s familiar continues to fan the disc of smoke.
“Canine familiars aren’t as good scent-hounds as regular dogs,” Blood says. “They’re better in some ways, but they don’t have as sophisticated noses. This would never confuse a true hound with an expert handler, but it’ll do the trick against everyone else. The smoke will smell like something burned here a while ago. That’s why Smoke’s working so hard—he’s mimicking the scent of a smoke that drifted over this area weeks ago. From a farmer’s controlled burn or a brushfire. It will confuse our scents. Rot’s eroding them further by mimicking the Blight in the soul and decaying our scents. Now watch, there goes the horse to the south.”
The horse has come back and trotted a bit up the road before cantering into the lowlands to the south. It stretches into a gallop. My familiar is twisted around its saddle horn flapping in the breeze like a silk scarf tied around a lady’s neck.
“Your familiar is stupid,” Blood says dryly.
“I
t’s just having a good time.” Although yeah... it does look a little derpy, and I can feel it going wheeeeee!!!
The horse tramps back and forth through the grass. Smoke’s familiar alights on his wrist, and the work done, they head back to the shadows. My familiar, still in snake form, zips through the brush back towards me, raises itself up to eye-level with me, and dances happily. Or tries to. It bounces back and forth, flicking its tongue.
“Did you have fun?” I ask it.
hiisssss
Yes, it had fun flopping around doing its best lasso impression. It slithers back to my side and flicks its tongue towards the road.
Smoke slumps down against the bowl’s depression. He waves off Rot’s hands.
“When they come,” Atrament says under his breath, “I will use my magic to hide Lady Crystal and intensify the shadows. The Warden might know about this place, but I’m sure he doesn’t know how to find it. It’s common for hunting parties to make camp and rest here. There is a path that will let us cut overland through the swamp and meet the road that travels north through the farmlands into the ridge that crests the ruined lands.”
He flicks his hand and his familiar re-appears. It dips and zips, then zooms out towards the road.
“The Warden’s never been here?” Smoke asks.
“If he has been, it is not recently,” Atrament says. “The Aether Mages with him may have tracking skills.”
“It’s very likely they do,” I say. “They’ll notice the lack of fresh hoofprints in the road. They’ll also see the horses cutting through the grass to this place.”
Blood shakes his head once, eyes on the road. “I’m hoping they’re focused on what you told them: that we’re going south with Atrament. They think your horse is lame.”
“So the Warden’s goal will be to stop you, and they’ll round me up later. Because I wouldn’t be stupid enough to show my face at the Capital.”
“Exactly. See, the thing about canine familiars is they don’t have the best noses, but you can tell then what scent to follow. They’ll pick up Rot’s familiar’s scent the strongest, and because what Rot and Smoke just did, the familiars will have a harder time sorting through the scents, but they’ll smell Rot’s familiar. They might even smell you. It’s the scent they’re looking for, so they’ll pursue it. While they’re chasing into the lowlands and getting turned around, we’ll be pushing north through the swamp.”
“Hopefully they’ll just think the familiars have lost the scent,” Smoke says.
We roll over and lay belly-down in the dirt with our eyes peeking over the edge of the basin. Rot stays with ScatheFire and the horses.
Tendrils of Atrament’s hair escape his braid and slide over all of us, and keep sliding up over the ground and trees, weaving into the canopy of branches. The shadows grow a bit deeper, darker, like the forest canopy is thicker than it actually is.
Four horses and riders come into view, the dull thudding of their hoofbeats carrying to our little hideout. They’re traveling in a frosty cloud: Frost weaving magic to keep them cool on the brutal day. The horses, though, are just walking. They’re completely spent.
“Where are the other five?” I whisper.
“One whole team is missing,” Blood whispers. “Pebbles, did you kill them?”
“No!” I gasp. “No, I didn’t kill any of them!”
“Are you sure?”
“...no?” Had one of my shards speared one of them? Had they inhaled some of that crystal dust and it choked them? Had they turned around and split up? “Maybe they’re flanking us.”
“Send your snake,” he orders.
I prod my snake and whisper to it to go to the west and look for the other team, but do not get seen. It slithers off with stunning speed, like a little silvery ribbon.
The horses pass us, then stop. The humans must be talking, but I can’t hear them. The horses stand quietly, tails swishing, clearly grateful for a chance to just stop for a minute. The wolf and dog familiars are unleashed. They sniff and sniff, chasing up and down the road. One of the Mages gestures towards where we’re hiding, but another one points down the road where the dog familiar is trotting about.
“That’s right, you high-bred fucktwats. Take the bait,” Blood hisses. “We’re all just a bunch of stupid Fells and could never outsmart you.”
They start shouting. The Warden’s voice rises above them, but the other Aethers are angry, and the horses jostle as the argument gets vehement.
Atrament whispers, “They’re angry. I think you may have harmed some of them.”
“But...” There’d been some shouting and yelping, but nobody had shouted anything like she killed Verdance or Aegis is bleeding!
The fight ends. Inferno reins his horse forward and heads down the road. His red familiar trots back to him, tail wagging, and barks. “This way. He’s got the scent. It leads south into the low-lands. Up there!”
Frost—not the one I’d killed, but the other one on the other team—has the wolf, and he hesitates, but after a moment also follows his familiar along the scent. The Warden—he’s distinctive in his dark attire—seems reluctant, but eventually heads out after them, and doesn’t even cast a glance our way like the trees are at all tempting.
I roll over onto my back and close my eyes. My heart pounds.
Atrament’s little familiar zips back and flutters and darts around him before settling on his palm. After a few minutes, he says, “The Warden wanted Inferno to set fire to the trees on either side. Some of the Aethers refused, other ones wanted it because they want you to die, Lady Crystal. For killing their Frost.”
“Their Blighted Frost,” Rot says. “She did them a favor.”
“No talk of the other team, although there was mention of finding you so I think you didn’t kill them, they just split up,” Atrament says with a hopeful smile. then, he tells Blood, “The Aethers have caught the scent, and it confirms in their minds that we are going to the military outpost twenty miles south of here for remounts, and intend to go on to the Capital. The Warden has said they cannot let this happen, although the Aethers are skeptical of why they’re not tracking Crystal, who is the actual fugitive. The Warden’s arguments swayed them that Crystal will not allow herself to be found, so recapturing the Fells is more logical. They can hunt Crystal later. I presume that means the other team is alive and in pursuit of her. I suppose... I could be wrong. They do seem to want Crystal very badly.”
Good news for us that the Aethers are going to push back on the Warden’s demands. “They won’t look for me in the ruined lands. I’ve made it clear I want to keep my Aether safe, and a lone Aether on a lame horse with no gear isn’t going to go to the ruined lands. They’re going to be looking around here at the farms and such expecting me to steal horses and gear. They probably will expect me to push to the southern coast.”
The south-western coast is one of the sketchiest parts of the Empire (even the Empire doesn’t like admitting it’s the Empire) and all kinds of unsavory shit passes through there and exchanges hands. It’s contaminated and squalid, and what isn’t sandy soil is rocks and small bluffs and dangerous surf. There are dozens of little hidden coves for pirate vessels, and while the docks do do legitimate business, and the Sailing Guild does have a presence, it’s the sort of seedy area that someone like me would go ply whatever value a rogue Crystal may have.
Like buying passage on a ship crazy enough to brave the Vast Dark and simply get beyond the reach of the Empire. Sort of thing an Aether with nothing left to lose would do.
Blood’s wrists rest on his knees. His shoulders slouch under an invisible weight. The reality of what we’ve done has started to sink into all of them. “In a week, we’re all going to be fugitives. In two weeks it will be all over the Empire. Four rogue Imperial Mages, a Pit Fell, and the most notorious criminal in Aether Mage history.”
Yay me. Good job. Because killing my fellow Mages isn’t good enough. Now I have to turn them into criminals.
“I h
ope you have a plan, Pebbles.” Blood tries to sound annoyed, but mostly he just sounds defeated.
Smoke and Rot are also grim. I can feel it inside me, thudding against my Aether.
Blood looks up at the canopy. “Might as well stay and rest. The shade’s good, and it’s the hottest part of the day. This place has already been dismissed as a possible hiding spot, so if we just lie low, they will ignore this place if they pass it again. We’ll press on at dusk. Atrament, can you find your way to the road in the dark?”
“Yes.” Atrament nods.
“Good. Goal is to get to the road tonight, and hit a farm or whatever we have to for remounts, food, supplies.”
We untack the horses, curry them out, and find some water for them to drink. We’d let them graze, except we can’t risk leaving any scent or clues we’re about. They’re tired and seem happy enough to stand quietly in the shade and swish flies.
I crouch next to Blood a few hours later. His petal dragon sits on the back of his hand, doing an elaborate dance with its wings. He’s re-braided his hair so the plait is neat, even if his hair is as sweaty and grimy as everything else. My familiar, in snake form, sits next to Blood, swaying in time to the dragon’s song and fascinated by it.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him softly. “I didn’t want to turn you into a fugitive, but it was the only way. I am so sorry.”
He rolls his eyes towards me. He doesn’t speak, then looks back at his dragon. The little creature chirps at me as if to say go now and resumes its dance.
“Come here, snake,” I tell it. “I’ve got a job for you.”
It slithers up my leg and caresses my face with a little flick of its tongue, then raises its upper body to do a mimic of the petal dragon’s dance. I crack a tired smile. “A court dilettante you aren’t. Not yet, anyway. Keep practicing.”
It flicks its tongue again and boops my cheek with its snoot.
I move it to the base of a tree. “Climb up onto a branch—where you won’t be seen—and keep an eye on the road. You see anything, fetch one of us.”