Trial by Obsidian

by Naomi Kelly

  "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice shakier than I thought possible.

  I somehow managed to nod, "Are you?"

  "I think so." He craned his neck and looked around us, "It would have been nice if Zephyrus left me some instructions on how to use this magic."

  "I may not be a god, but I'll try my best to teach you."

  "You saved me once more."

  "Epione helped," I said wryly. I might not fully believe in the gods, but I did believe in him. In us.

  "I will always save you."

  The dome dissolved around us and allowed the thin covering of snow to drift down. There was no more deafening gales or clang of metal. The field had fallen silent, still.

  Dragging my bruised body upright, I surveyed the field around me and for a split-second I worried everyone was dead. There was not one single person standing.

  Reuben wrapped his grip around my forearm and helped pull me up. It wasn't until we rose that I realised most of the men were kneeling, heads bowed in an act of respect.

  "Rise," Reuben boomed from beside me. In unison the legion of surviving men unfolded and stood to attention. It was then I could fully grasp who had perished.

  Men more broken than the swords they clutched. Bodies stiffer than the ground beneath them.

  Karnes. Marx. And about fifty other men lay shrewn at all angles. The only people alive who did not stand were Bryar and Elm who held a weakened and fragile Willow.

  I broke free from Reuben's hold and ran towards her. Every step hurt, but the pain was good. It reminded me I was alive, and no matter how surreal it felt, this was not a nightmare.

  "Tend to the injured," Reuben ordered to the waiting legions, "Someone fetch me a banner-man."

  I collapsed onto my knees at Willow's side. Her sunken stare was locked on nothing at all. She was cold through and through, from the inside out and outside in. The only warm part of her was the growing puddle of blood that leaked through her pants and merged with the snow. I slid my hand through the slit in the fabric and ripped open the gap to reveal the extent of her injury. My hands trembled over the horse-shoe shaped wound on her thigh.

  It was deep and throbbing.

  "I'm losing her lass," Bryar lips quivered and a tense vein beneath his eye twitched, "I can feel her slipping way."

  I gripped her wrists and forced my tired magic into her veins. Her weakened, barely flowing veins.

  "She has lost a lot of blood," I said, feeling her body slow beneath my hold, "Bryar I need you to help me."

  "What can I do?"

  "You're not going to like it," I muttered. Reuben was once again at my side, with the banner man he requested. He ripped the draping flag off of the pole and lay it over Willow.

  "I'll do anything lass,"

  "I'm going to have to cauterise the wound," I explained, refusing to look at him, "Heat the tip of your sword."

  Bryar unsheathed his blade but froze.

  "Won't that hurt her?" Adonis swallowed hard.

  Yes! Of course, it will, I mentally snapped but remained still. I could have stemmed the bleeding myself by using all the power I could muster, but any magic I inflicted on her would pass through to her daughter. Too much Obsidian flowing through such a fragile little life would easily tear her away from her mother.

  "It will hurt her, but it will save her. Now, Bryar."

  He struggled to draw a ragged breath. He closed his eyes as he wrapped his clenched fist around the Garnet hilt of his sword. Fire spread up the blade. I fought to grasp the sword from his tense grip, but he did release his hold. Reluctantly.

  I quenched the flames in the snow. An angry hiss escaped with the steam. I paled as my brain caught up with my gut instinct. It was scorching hot and I was seconds away from pressing it into Willow's golden skin.

  Before I could stop myself, I slapped the flat side of the sword against the wound.

  An ungodly roar erupted from her ashen lips. I screamed with her but held my position.

  One second.

  Two seconds...how long would this take?

  Her bellow morphed into sobbing. Her flesh melted and fused over the gaping wound. Instead of a bloody gorge, she now had a black ridge of marred flesh. The bleeding stopped as the skin bubbled into blisters.

  I threw away the blade and pulled her close.

  "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I cried. Her body recoiled from me as she fell unconscious, but my magic still had a sense of her. Heat raced through her body. Fury and fight. The pain was good, at least I knew she was alive. They both were.

  "It's done," I said shakily. I wiped tears from my face, and tried to stand, "She is weak, but also stronger than any of us give her credit for."

  Reuben wrapped a solid arm around my waist and heaved me up with stomach churning strength.

  "Sven!" he shouted across the field, "Gather the broken bows and five other men the same height as you."

  A young man looked as confused as I felt, but he bowed his head before jogging towards were the archers had been.

  "She does not have the strength to hold herself upright for horseback. We'll lay her across the bows like slats and my men will carry her home."

  Home. He meant the Chambers. Not Deshure.

  Sven returned with the tools and men. As they lay out the wood in formation, Edvan joined us after his scope of the field.

  "Will she make the rest of the journey?

  "Yes," Reuben said without a trace of doubt, "How are the legions?"

  "The Alpha men took the most fatalities. Gamma group are relatively unscathed, but your legion has lost some good men."

  Reuben winced.

  "Ask your men to carry any fallen Beta soldiers, and I will get my men to reciprocate for you. Ensure no man carries the body of a friend. The weight of that would be too much to bear."

  Edvan nodded and moved away.

  "Arrange carriers for Karnes too," Reuben added almost as an afterthought.

  As Sven and the others carefully hoisted the make-shift gurney onto their shoulders, Reubens request made more sense. The men being of similar height made for easier transport and a smooth movement for Willow.

  Her hands that draped over the side of the wood were quickly filled by the palms of Bryar and Elm. Adonis placed the long flag over her once more before they began to follow the trail of injured men returning along the path they came.

  A path none of them had ever travelled before. A path I did not want to travel again, but I knew what had to be done.

  Eighteen

  "It's been two days lass, why is she taking so much magic to heal?" Bryar said through a stifled yawn from Willow's bedside. His worry echoed around the plain room in the barracks where they had opted to stay.

  I glanced out the narrow window to see the Chamber turrets and halls glow in the hazy morning light across the town square. I knew Reuben was in there somewhere. In some hall, shouting over some men, organising something. Duty had dragged him away the moment we stepped inside the gate.

  My duty had kept me here, at Willow's side, as she required healing every hour. Elm braided her sister’s hair whilst she whispered childhood stories in her ear and encouraged her to wake up.

  "She's just more delicate than usual, but she is recovering. She will wake soon, I can feel it," I smiled tiredly, and continued to drip my magic into her system. Even though I was only using a small amount of magic, it was constant and draining. It was if there was a leaky tap in my power reserve. Hours passed. Magic dripped away.

  Adonis arrived with a crateful of food.

  "There are more black bows on the streets than people," he remarked and handed out fruit to everyone.

  I accepted the apple but just picked at the green skin. I needed warm food. Meat. Any sort of meat. Except venison.

  "They're preparing for the funerals. The burials are taking place later."

  He opened his mouth as if to ask a question but stopped himself and ate his pear in silence instead.

  More hours slipped away
, and I was too engrossed with fidgeting the pips out of my browned apple-core I almost missed the subtle change in Willow's breathing.

  Almost.

  "She's waking," I said and broke the silence. Everyone snapped to attention.

  Her eyelids fluttered a few times before opening properly. Four worried faces stared back at her.

  "Welcome back love," Bryar said and leaned his forehead against hers, "How are you feeling?"

  Willow opened her mouth to talk but made no sound bar a cough.

  "Water," Elm suggested, "Hand her the water."

  "Aye, and a peach. Nothing has passed her lips in days," Bryar added.

  Adonis reached into the crate and handed her an armful of various fruits and a ceramic mug. She lapped up every drop of water and cleared her throat.

  "Firstly, I feel okay. Weak and stiff, but okay thanks to Juniper. I will never be able to repay you," she reached across the bed and held my hand, "You saved me."

  Bryar patted my back and smiled with the threat of a tear falling.

  "Secondly," Willow croaked turning her attention to her sister, "It was you who broke mother's vase not me! It was wholly unfair to blame me when I couldn't correct you."

  Elm released her golden giggle, "I didn't know if you could hear my stories or not. I just didn't want you to feel alone."

  "I was never alone," Willow said gently, her hand institutionally yet subtly moved to her stomach "And thirdly, yes, I am starving."

  She sunk her wide grin into the soft skinned peach. Bryar thumbed away the sweet juices that dribbled off her chin as she eagerly wolfed down mouthfuls of fruit.

  Our laughter came easy but went fast as Willow's cheeks paled to an unhealthy green shade.

  "Grab the crate," I shouted to Adonis. He quickly placed it in her lap, only for her to purge seconds later.

  "Is she not healed?" he asked stepping away as her body heaved.

  "It's to be expected. She has not eaten in days. It's normal, right Juniper?" Elm pleaded.

  "Of course, the Northerners can't even grow a peach properly!" Bryar snapped, smashing the fruit off the wall.

  The chunk of pulp and pip slid down the wall until it melted onto the cobbled floor. Even in its mashed form it held a ripe, juicy colour in its flesh that disproved his theory of rot. I remained quiet, knowing that nothing I could say to him would change his view of the Chambers or Sinlara at the moment. He believed everything about the North was rotted to its core, but he had lost enough people and been to enough pain to earn the prejudice.

  I gave Willow another mug of water, and she gave me a weighted nod. This was not a result of her long sleep, or injury. It was because of the secret she could no longer keep from her husband.

  "It's perfectly normal," I said, "Let's give her some space. We could all use a trip to the bathing house. I'm sure our stench is not helping her eat."

  I hustled Adonis and Elm out the door in-front of me and glanced back to see her taking both of Bryars heated hands.

  Even as I walked away, I could hear his whooping through the door.

  We were half-way across the vacant square, when I heard, "Just the magician I was looking for."

  I turned to see Edvan in full Chambers uniform, complete with a ceremonial jacket decorated with badges and pins.

  I gestured to my brother and Elm to go ahead, and gave a theatrical bow to Edvan, "Well you found me."

  "I am assuming if you are out and about that Willow is doing better,"

  Genuine concern hung in his voice. It was unsettling yet refreshing.

  "She is. She will make a full recovery."

  "Good."

  "What is it you wanted? To bring me back to the dungeon?" I joked without laughing.

  He rolled his eyes but shook his head, "No. I wanted to invite you to the trials tomorrow. Reuben requested you be there."

  "Trials? Is Reuben on trial?" I growl.

  "You are too quick with your temper," he scolded, "Reuben has committed no crime and therefore will never be on trial. The case is against Mara and Teriam."

  "Oh," I stumbled. I had been so busy concerning myself with Karnes I had not thought of them, "Why am I invited?"

  "It is a private trial. No Chamber men. No jury. Just Reuben and I, but Sinlara law states you need three people for a verdict to stand. He suggested you, and I agreed. You can be smart when you're not being sarcastic."

  I bit my tongue to stop my initial remark slipping through.

  Upon seeing my struggle, he smiled his rare grin, "See you do know when to be smart."

  I muttered a curse and went to move away, but he lightly gripped my forearm, "We both know that what Karnes did was wrong. Inexcusable," he said, his smile banished once more, "And we both know Reuben is logical. Solid. But even though he will not want it to, this burial will hurt him. He has lost the only father he has ever known. You only knew Karnes as tyrant, but they did have a bond in-spite of everything."

  I remember the look on Karnes' face when he rolled over young Aspen to see the resemblance to his own boy. The way his taut face softened at the familiarity. The protectiveness he felt. It was not the same love I grew up with from my father, Ebon, or what the type of father I knew Bryar would aspire to be. But Karnes was still his father regardless.

  "Reuben will shut down if I try to talk to him about it, but he is different with you. You will be able to get through to him."

  I nodded, "I'll look after him. Always."

  Edvan released his grip and brushed down his uniform.

  "I'm sorry you lost your uncle. No matter how flawed family can be, it is never easy to say good-bye," I said. My throat bobbed with emotion, "I would go to the funeral if it was appropriate. I'd like to be there for him, and you."

  It was, however, most inappropriate for me or any of the other magicians to attend. Our safety had never once been threatened since arriving at the Chambers, and I knew the soldiers in attendance would not harm me, but this was their day. Not a political stand. The legions deserved to lay their fellow men to rest without a reminder of the reason they went to battle in the first place.

  "I appreciate it," Edvan said, "Go rest in your turret. Reuben will return there afterwards, there will be no more paperwork tonight. He needs rest. We all do."

  Your turret, I mused. It was quite the upgrade from the cell he shackled me in last time I was here, and a change I gladly welcomed.

  As I made my way through our turret, I took the spiral, stony staircase slower than the last time. There was no ducking from shadow to shadow. No etching along walls gripped with fear. Instead, I ambled down the long wooden corridor, one solid step at a time. Some floorboards creaked as if I treaded along the ribs of the dying, but I no longer felt the need to disguise my movements.

  I stepped inside the suite and leaned my back against the door until it clicked closed behind me. The same wave of warmth and safety that I felt when I found my satchel here, washed over me once more.

  Obsidian was in my pocket.

  My knives and crystal sword within grasp, but there was something strange about the way I felt being back at the Chambers with Reuben at my side.

  Even when he was not at my side, I felt protected. I had a lot of weapons, but Reuben’s presence made them redundant. He was my steadfast sword and shield.

  Slipping into the bathroom, I grabbed the abandoned soap that lay waiting from the last time I had used it. Deep cracks ran through its dried surface as if it were land in a desperate drought. I filled the sink, submerged the bar to soften it, and took some time to inspect myself in the oval mirror. Less gaunt and bruised than before, and with only slight grey shade under my eyes, I didn't look nearly as sleep deprived as I felt. I teased apart some of the tangled curls that had knotted themselves together, but I quickly gave up. That was a task I did not have the energy for as there was no way my tired hands could work their ways through the mass of curls. I would require a good night’s sleep and an entire jar of chamomile milk to tackle the mob of hai
r. I made a mental note to do so tomorrow morning. I wanted to seem as civilised and poised as possible to face Mara. She may be the one on trial, but her weighted stare was a judgement of its own.

  I lit the oil lantern and placed it in the window-frame that was visible from the main gates. A beacon of warmth for Reuben to return home to after his day.

  Home?

  Why did my mind deceive me like this? Home was in Deshure, not here.

  Before I could fight with my own mind any further, I crawled into the glorious bed that still held his scent. And mine. A perfume of both of us.

  I was vaguely aware of Reuben coming into the room sometime later. My normally hyper-aware senses must have left my body as I managed to succumb to sleep without crystals, weapons or someone on watch.

  He unlaced his boots and extinguished the lantern.

  Quietly, he slipped into the bed and took his place behind me.

  "I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you," I said softly without sitting up or even opening my eyes.

  The mixture of winter and grief made his body feel tense and cold against me, "You're always there for me."

  I wriggled myself into the crook of his body. He held me tighter than normal and slowly began to warm up.

  Thaw.

  Relax.

  "At least it is over now," he muttered, before falling asleep.

  I knew the burials were over, and that the battle had ended, but somehow, I got the feeling that this was not the end. This was only the beginning.

  Nineteen

  With Reuben's hand firmly clasped around mine, he half led me, half dragged me towards the Chamber hall. His free palm gripped the hilt of his sword that swung from his hip.

  Using his Onyx, he sent a controlled gust before us, opening the heavy oak doors. I prayed that was the only reason he brought the weapon with him.

  Mara and Teriam were sat in individual chairs on the opposite sides of the long table. Reuben and Edvan took the same seating position as last time, which left either the Alpha seat at the head of the table, or the vacant chair beside Edvan.

  To my dismay Edvan politely pulled out the seat for me.