by Becky James
She closed her fist, and the dust settled to the floor, but instead of sweeping outwards it landed obediently. She had a high level of control of even small particles. What else could she do? The offensive capabilities of her magic were hard for me to map when I was in so much pain.
Tuniel swept her hair from her shoulders. Her dress looked like travelling garb, thicker than usual and replete with pockets. Perfectly tailored, it moulded to her form, the pale green setting off her light skin and silvrine hair. “I can sense them,” she said, her red lips parting. “They are all lying on stone biers, and they are alive. Alive but not moving, so I conclude that they are asleep.” She turned her gaze to me, and her eyes narrowed slightly.
I snapped into focus. “A normal sleep?” I asked. “Or a magical sleep?”
“Magical or drugged. I cannot tell, I have little skill with healing apart from what was covered in the Academy and what I know from Aubin. They have not moved or twitched, so it does not feel like a natural rest from what I can sense from the stones.”
“I have to get to them and wake them up.”
Tuniel inclined her head. “Indeed. We were waiting for you.”
“You will have to walk. I cannot carry you,” Aubin said, standing. “I have lyneal to help and I’ve made it into a tea.” He held out the steaming cup. “If you’ll drink a tea from me.”
My lips thinned, but I had no choice. I choked it down and Evyn slowly relaxed. A sick feeling stole over me; my pain had bled across to her.
I was a useless soul companion.
“We will progress in stages to get you upright,” Aubin said. “Then I will want to put your arms in slings.”
“Don’t bother. We’re wasting time.” I had to move to get away from the thoughts in my head. Heaving myself to the side, I rolled onto my knees, biting my tongue from the pain.
“Is he always this stubborn?” Tuniel asked.
“He can be.” Evyn knelt at my side. “Thorrn, lean on me—”
“Get back. I can do this.” I trembled from even that small movement.
“No one doubts that, but there’s no point in hurting yourself like this—”
“I said I would do it.” I had to find out for myself.
I forced my arms to move. They were numb and slow but they obeyed my commands. My shoulders ached fiercely. I tried raising my arms but they stopped at a thirty-degree angle from my waist. I did not try putting them behind my back, the very thought making me feel nauseous. My arms and shoulders shook as if I had a fever.
“That’s enough, Thorrn. You’re straining them,” Aubin cautioned.
Was this what I had been reduced to? My father’s sword lay on its side on the floor. Taking a breath I reached for it, managing to make my hand brush the hilt. But pain shot up my arm when I tried to open my fist, the fingers twitching into a spasm. I growled.
“Thorrn, you need to rest,” insisted Evyn. “It won’t be like this forever, but it has literally just happened. With rehabilitation you’ll probably be okay—”
“How do you know?” I thundered. “Gavain said you’d have to feed me my meals for the rest of my life. Torgund has done this before, showed Gavain how it was done. He’s crippled me, they have both crippled me…” I panted, shaking all over. The ague must have spread across my entire body!
Aubin said, “Gadamere may be able to help. He’s something of a decent medimancer—”
“And what if he can’t?” I countered. “What if I am reduced to this forever?”
“Thorrn, I know it’s hard, but you cannot lose hope.” Evyn’s voice wobbled, fighting back tears. “We haven’t fully explored all the options yet, there’s no point planning for the worst-case scenario just yet.”
“Are you blind or just stupid?” I snarled. She flinched away from me.
“Enough.” Aubin stood up. “We’re going to see what we can do about the royals. Tuniel, if he moves, drop rocks on him.”
“Good suggestion. I’ll take it under advisement.” The mage settled onto a nearby rock, arranging her skirts.
I snarled, “Where do you think you’re going? You’re not going anywhere with my soul!”
“I think she’s going with me, and we will see you anon. Use the time to rest and cool down.” Aubin offered his arm to Evyn. She turned away from me with fresh tears in her eyes, and they exited the small cavern, their footsteps fading away.
My eyes stole to the Journey Mage. If she attacked, I would not be able to defend myself. Evyn had left me to die.
Or she trusted that Aubin and Tuniel would not harm us. I pressed my lips together. He had had a perfect opportunity to kill me and take Evyn. Why not do it?
I looked again at Tuniel. She was stroking the sides of the smooth cave, the stones flashing a deeper blue in the wake of her touch.
She had held me with confidence and candour. My skin heated briefly.
“See anything you like?” Tuniel turned back to me, tilting her head.
I flushed. Definitely with anger and not embarrassment. “If you touch one drop of her blood—”
“Too late.” Her face was smooth, her eyes flashing like gemstones. “In any case, it’s clear that you’re spoiling for a fight. Unwisely, I might add. I don’t know whether it’s your nature, whether it’s been beaten into you to always reach for one, or whether this is some kind of reaction to a defeat.”
“Defeat?” At first, I refused to accept that. Then I bared myself to the bitter truth. I had been defeated, taken out of the fight entirely. I sat back on my heels. “I’m the one who’s been tortured and maimed. Why is she crying?”
“Maybe because she loves you? And you’re being unreasonable and terribly hard on her.”
“Unreasonable?” My hands dropped, unable to even wipe the sweat from my brow. “You’re as bad as Aubin.”
“We are soul companions,” she said dryly. Her hands rasped along the wall as she continued her exploration of the cave wall. “Are you lashing out because of pain or fear, I wonder?”
I closed my mouth. I wouldn’t be interrogated by a mage.
She noted my silence with a smirk, saying, “I’d say both. Potentially stress. You were recently tortured and maimed.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Is this the first real disappointment you’ve ever had?”
“You call this a disappointment?” My arms lay limp in my lap, the tattoos on my right forearm bared. The bright colours of my past achievements mocked me now. When it really mattered, I had chosen not to put the tenets above my soul, and now I was useless. My words bounced down the walls beyond us, disappointment echoing back to me.
Tuniel’s voice did not echo in the cavern, as if the stones drank up every word. “Truthfully, a turn or two will pass. The shock of it is new, so I will give you grace for that. But have you never faced a difficulty that would take a turn to solve and overcome?”
“Of course I have. I’ve trained for Special Forces. That takes turns of dedication. Turns lost now,” I said bitterly.
Tuniel pursed her lips. “You were trained by being carefully tested. Gentle stretches on your ability and confidence each time. Your trainers would never have risked introducing any huge leap that threatened to break you, so you were carefully and gently incubated in skill and confidence. Now you have been broken. But when something is broken, it can be reforged into something new. If you add new materials, it becomes stronger.” She watched me for my reaction.
I turned my face away from her searching gaze. “You think I can look at this like a training exercise? A bit of rest and recovery and I’ll be stronger than ever?” I felt like throwing myself to the ground, but the thought of it filled me with dread. I’d never be able to get back up.
She moved, and I jerked my head to watch her, instinct primed. She was a dangerous mage, potentially hostile. She said, “You can look at it like that, or you can decide this is the end of your life. It is up to you.
“It is clear that your soul companion has been tempered, broken again and again,
and reforged each time into something new. Something that withstands the old injury and old hurts. You could learn from her, if you lean into her and into your bond.” She moved toward the corridor where Evyn and Aubin had gone. She trailed a hand on the wall, the stones flaring at her touch.
If she decided to seek out Evyn to harm her, I needed to be able to stand and walk after her.
Tuniel looked over her shoulder at me struggling to get up, a frown on her face. Rolling her eyes, she came back to sit on the opposite side of Aubin’s kettle, which rested on a pile of coals. “Better?”
I grunted, saying, “Thank you,” before I could remember myself. I nearly put my head in my hands, except I couldn’t. My chest heaved with suppressed sobs.
My voice cracked. “Why would she want anything to do with me? I’m done,” I whispered. “I’m a broken, useless wreck. Without my ability to fight I cannot help her in anything. That’s all I am. I am a fighter. A good one. And now I’m not anymore.”
Tuniel leant forward, touching the heart of the fire. I gaped. It was a heatstone she touched, not an actual fire, but it was still scorching.
“So what are you?” Tuniel murmured, her finger on the superheated stone, coaxing it to higher temperatures. “Are you a fighter as in a man who beats up other men, does flashy things with swords and other weapons, and takes their confidence from their skills? Or are you a fighter, someone who does not back down, someone who takes the hits and keeps coming, someone who finds the way around their problems or through them and seizes it?”
I sat back on my heels and stayed quiet, turning that over in my mind.
Chapter 18
When Evyn and Aubin got back, Evyn rushed up to me, pink-cheeked. “Thorrn, I felt something!” Her excitement seemed to outweigh any reticence she felt toward me, but when I held her gaze, she dropped her eyes. My fingers twitched and I opened my mouth to apologise for my outburst, but Aubin went on.
“It seems that Evyn and Ellesmere have a mental link. The queen is a reader mage. Evyn could sense some of her thoughts, but she is deep in a dreamland. It may be that Evyn has to enter the same dreamland to communicate with her.”
“If this is a magical sleep, can we ask the MasterMage of all Masters to help?” I asked. Aubin and Tuniel exchanged glances. “Oh. You think she was involved?” My eyes widened.
“We have no proof yet, but yes. I would think Waker would be involved with a powerful magical sleep.” Tuniel tapped her chin.
“Sorry. Who’s Waker again?” Evyn asked.
“The Master of all Mages and Mancers, to give her the proper title, is the ruler of the magical world,” Aubin explained. “Mundanes are ruled over by the royal family, here in Oberrot, the same way the Dinahens are ruled by their royals, the Rushia by the sultan, the Daronians by the duke and the Skieniens by… whoever claims to be Chief of the Clan Chiefs this mooncycle.”
“Broromere the Brave?” I hazarded.
“Old news. It’s Mersgere the Murderous now,” Tuniel supplied. “But those are the mundanes. In the magical sphere we bow to no kings or queens. Mancers and mages are led and kept in order by the strongest magic user of their type.”
“Usually determined by a fight to the death,” I put in darkly.
Tuniel shrugged one shoulder. “How else are we to determine who has emerged victorious?” My stomach curled, and she rolled her eyes. “The stories are exaggerated. We would lose a great deal of journey mages and mancers through true duals to the death all the time. Accidents… may happen, though.”
“Mm,” Evyn shifted. “So, the MasterMage is the top dog?”
“Not sure about that, but she fought her way to the title and has the distinct honour of speaking on behalf of the magical world,” I said.
“As if we cannot speak for ourselves,” Tuniel murmured. I felt that was a dig at me somehow. I flushed.
“She signed the Accords, though. The Magical Mundane Accords, which means if she’s moved against the king, this is an act of war,” I pointed out.
“One single mage or mancer acting against the king is a problem for Waker to solve, yes. If she is behind this attack then this would be a disaster and spark all-out war.” Tuniel stood. “We need to ascertain Waker’s involvement, but I haven’t heard of another with her magic and abilities, and, rather like Aubin, I tend towards pessimism.”
“What is her magic? What am I up against?” I asked.
Tuniel pulled her long hair back. “She has magic around sleep and abilities around the dreamlands. She appears to be able to manipulate a person’s dreams.”
“That’s it? That doesn’t sound so bad. Nothing a sword in the gut wouldn’t combat,” I mused.
“Do not underestimate her,” Tuniel said, smoothing her skirts as she perched on a ledge. “She hasn’t, in your words, ‘fought her way to the title’ by sending people to sleep. I’ve heard tell that those who go against her may suddenly change in their ambitions. Whereas before they were set on one course of action, they started another entirely. Their personality might change; previously calm people become hot-headed, for example. The courageous become fearful, the kind, cold-hearted. People with no prior issues commit suicide.”
Evyn flinched at that. I wanted to reach over and take her hand, but I still couldn’t move. Then I remembered she was probably annoyed with me.
Tuniel continued, “Sometimes they are just broken altogether. They wake up drooling and struck dumb.”
“That doesn’t sound good, but we have to get Gough, Elley and Gaddy out of this magical sleep.” Evyn bit her lip. “How do we do that, if we can’t go ask Waker to do it just in case she’s the perp?”
“I think,” said Aubin, “given that you have a link with the queen, our best chance is for you to dream-think your way to Ellesmere.”
“Ellesmere as a mage may be able to break her own enchantment from within the dreamlands,” Tuniel said with a nod. “Once Ellesmere is free, she can help Gadamere, whom she also has a mind link with, and she will be able to advise whether she can reach Gough.”
“And Gough will be able to tell us where Mum is,” Evyn added. She moved to squat next to me.
“Now to make sure that Evyn remembers what she’s doing while she is asleep and goes down the link. The best lucid dreams are soul dreams. Have you two had any yet?” Aubin asked.
Evyn shook her head at him. “Not yet. Thorrn says we might when we get closer.”
I bristled. “I’m right here. Don’t talk about me like I’m part of the wall.”
“Yes. Closer, when he’s lashing about like a slaver with a new whip,” Aubin drawled.
I turned my glare on him.
“Thorrn.” Evyn touched my hand. Looking down at her and her red-rimmed eyes, I tried turning my hand over to take hers. The movement hurt, so I stopped, nerves flaring into the edges of anger. “I’d like us to get closer. And it seems like that would be very useful if we are going to help the royals and then my Mum.”
“Fine. Get closer then,” I grunted. Her lips trembled. “Stop being oversensitive about it.”
Aubin cleared his throat. “Now is perhaps not a good time. I think we all need to rest.”
But Evyn did not heed him. “Thorrn, I’m here for you. Open up to me. Tell me what you’re feeling.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now Evyn—” Aubin said.
“Why not?” she pressed.
“You don’t want to know what I’m feeling,” I blurted out, louder than I’d have liked. “It’s none of it good. All of it is ugly and hopeless. I can’t put a spin on it as Tuniel says. I can’t snap out of it. I just… I can’t.” I stared at the floor.
Evyn looked down with me and hunched to be very small. I recalled her curling up on her kitchen floor; she looked just like that, and my heart rebelled against the very thought of her making herself smaller in reaction to anyone or anything. “Evyn, I’m sorry. But it’s not… attractive, or anything I want anyone to see. Not even you.”
Gently putting her hands on my cheeks, she cupped my face. Her grey eyes warmed, lashes heavy with unshed tears. “The ugly stuff is alright with me, love. Hopeless is fine with me. I can take the truth. It is hard and cold… but it’s real, and I’m here for you when you’re ready.”
She moved away but not far, helping Aubin to prepare a meal on the heatstone. She talked quietly with Tuniel about its properties and what magic felt like. I kept half an ear on the conversation, my training latching onto Tuniel’s potential weaknesses and offensive capabilities, but truly my mind was awash with fear. If I laid myself bare, my soul would turn away from me. No one wanted to wallow in another’s pain.
Evyn moved to lie beside me when Aubin and Tuniel went off to bunk elsewhere.
I remained upright next to her, a silent sentinel unable to even get to a horizontal position. Tears pressed against my eyes. “Evyn?”
She sat up. “I’m here.”
“Hold me,” I sobbed. She knelt beside me. She cradled me while I sobbed, and every movement wracked my shoulders. I sobbed even harder about that. She put her arms carefully around my neck and I pressed my head into her chest.
“I can’t even embrace you,” I whined. “I can’t do anything! I’m never going to fight again. What good am I if I’m unable to fight? I’m helpless, I’m not of any use to you. Gavain tore my arms out by the roots.” A fresh wave of bewilderment and betrayal rose up in me. “Why would he do that to me? He sounded jealous, he was jealous of me, of the favour he thought my father showed me. Shard never let any signs he approved of me seep through, not even at home! I was met with nothing but criticism, nothing was ever good enough for him, it could never be good enough because he could never show anything toward me for fear that I would be overlooked! And I understand, I do, but it was hard, Evyn!