Marsh contemplated arguing, then caught the look on his face and decided she didn’t want latrine duty for the next six months of her life. She sat, catching Roeglin’s chuckle as she did.
Gustav caught it, too, and turned toward him.
“I’m sitting. I’m sitting,” the shadow mage managed, raising his hands.
He’d have been falling if Gustav hadn’t grabbed his arm and lowered him back to his blankets. The captain turned and gave Marsh a fierce glare. “Never again,” he ordered.
Marsh wanted to ask if she could do it to an enemy, but he was way ahead of her.
“Take out the enemy, but no more practicing head combat until Elise and Felix can show you how to do it safely.” He paused. “And that’s only if it can be practiced safely.”
2
No Kind of Welcome
It took them longer to get back on the road than usual, and by the end of it, Marsh owed Henri another dinner. She noticed Izmay wasn’t complaining.
“I really like candy shrooms,” the female shadow mage confided when it was her turn to ride alongside Marsh to make sure she didn’t fall.
Marsh shot her a sideward glance. “Uh-huh.”
“And chocolate. I like that, too.”
Marsh was about to reply that chocolate was in short supply and she could take what she was given when Mordan growled. The mule’s ears twitched and it raised its head. Marsh shortened the reins before it could do anything more, like get the bit between its teeth and bolt into caverns unknown.
Fortunately, it did nothing more than tense beneath her, its ears moving as it tried to identify the threat. Marsh caught herself reaching along her link to the kat but was jolted back by both the stab of pain in her head and the fact that Izmay slapped her on the shoulder—hard.
“No mind magic!” the shadow guard snapped, “or I’ll dump you on your ass myself.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Marsh muttered, and Roeglin snickered.
She heard the scrape of steel being drawn and followed his example, pulling her own sword from its scabbard. “Well, this is going to be fun.”
Turns out it wasn’t. The arrow humming out of the dark might have hit her if Mordan hadn’t come racing out of the dark. The mule danced away from the kat, then bucked, dumping Marsh out of the saddle and onto the path.
“By the Deep’s dark-assed—”
Mordan came and crouched over her as a second arrow flew through the space she had been. The mule brayed in surprise and started to bolt, only to have Zeb reach out and snag its reins. Marsh watched their hooves disappear and listened to the thud of boots hitting the ground around her.
Mordan left her, pushing her way past the legs surrounding her as she headed out into the dark. Marsh wished she could follow the kat’s progress, riding her mind, looking through her eyes and listening through her ears. She was almost surprised when Mordan pushed her gently back into her own head.
Silence descended, and the boots around her did not move. The only sound came from a single murmured instruction. “Be still.” Then a solid thump followed by Roeglin’s startled yelp.
“Quit your bitching. I’m saving your life.”
If Marsh hadn’t known he had a point, she might have thought Henri had enjoyed the opportunity.
No one answered that, and she found herself missing Roeglin’s smartassed presence in her head. She even missed it when he didn’t respond to that thought with something like, “I’ll remind you you said that.”
Tired of not being able to see anything, she went to roll into a crouch, only to have two boots push her quickly back down.
“You’re not in the clear yet,” warned Gustav.
“Stay,” asserted Gerry, sounding like his attention was elsewhere.
She was half-tempted to dump them both on their asses, but she let them keep her down instead. The silence stretched. Finally, Henri spoke. “Looks like they were only after her,” he observed, and then added, “The only way to know if they’re gone is to let her get back up and see if anyone tries to shoot her again.”
Both boots kept the pressure on as Marsh tried to do exactly that, and she waited while Gustav sorted through his options. Mordan’s frustrated roar at the empty dark decided him.
He lifted his boot. “Man has a point.”
Gerry’s boot followed and both of them scanned the dark, doing their best to see what was out there. Marsh rolled to her feet slowly, since she felt like she’d been hit by a cave-in.
That’s gonna leave a mark, she thought, taking a breather before pushing to her feet. Gustav’s hand under her arm was helpful but not necessary. Marsh straightened, the skin between her shoulder blades crawling, anticipating the next strike.
It didn’t come.
Zeb returned, leading her mule and holding an arrow in one hand. “Pulled this out of him. No wonder he ran.”
“It’s a wonder he’s still following you,” Marsh commented, and the shadow guard held up a candy cap ball.
“Gustav is magic,” he said. “You’d be surprised what a mule would do for one of these.”
He passed the reins over to Marsh. “Not sure you can ride him,” he told her. “It was in far enough to stick.”
“Thanks, Zeb.” Marsh took the reins and rubbed the mule’s face. “It’s okay, boy. We can lean on each other.”
This drew snorts of amusement from those around her.
“He leans on you, and you’ll both fall over,” Roeglin told her coming alongside. “You can ride with me.”
Henri smirked. “Make sure you hold him real tight,” he snickered. “Ain’t a man alive doesn... Ow!”
“You’ll have to pardon him.” Izmay smiled. “I’m not sure he knows what manners are.”
She rode her mule in between them and slugged Henri again for good measure, her smile never wavering.
“And I’m not learning them from you,” he muttered rebelliously, subsiding to silence when Izmay fixed him with a stern stare.
“No, but you can pretend...” she suggested and leaned toward him. “I can make it worth your while...”
From the way she said it, she was looking forward to doing exactly that, and Marsh watched Henri’s face turn crimson. It didn’t help that she felt her own turning a similar shade.
“Let me help you up,” Gustav offered, coming alongside her. “That was quite a fall.”
Marsh nodded, focusing on getting back into the saddle before looking for Mordan. Gustav followed her example as he mounted, the pair of them not relaxing until the hoshkat came padding out from a clump of calla, looking disgruntled.
She cast a glance at Marsh and flattened her ears to the side, lashing her tail in irritation. A short moment later, Scruffknuckle bounded out beside her and Perdemor by her side. Pup and kit paused to look at her and Scruffy shook himself before bounding back out into the dark.
“Guess that means they came up empty too,” Gustav observed. “Let’s keep going. Those three will watch the perimeter and hopefully stop the next attack before it starts.”
Mordan cast him a look before turning and making her leisurely way out into the dark. Gustav frowned at her departing form and then turned his mule along the trail. “We’ll be sleeping at the Grotto tonight.”
Marsh hoped he was right. She wished she could touch minds with the kat but didn’t dare. She wished she could scan their surroundings for life signs, but that was too close to mind magic to risk...and Gustav had forbidden her using any magic.
She wondered if that included asking the shadows to tell her what they touched.
You know it does. Elise’s voice intruded in her mind, and she flinched.
The pain that echoed at the mage’s soft words was dull, more the pain of a bruise than a cut, but it was enough to remind her that she really had hurt herself. She didn’t even try to respond in kind.
“Fine,” she murmured, knowing the mind mage would pick it out of her head anyway.
Roeglin snickered.
“We need to re
st today,” he reminded her as if he could still read her mind, and she hugged him.
Not because he was right, and not because he cared. More because he could, and no one would be the wiser. She swore she could hear him smile.
They made it to the side trail branching to Ariella’s with nothing happening. The tunnel remained silent, and the caverns they passed through might have been devoid of life if it hadn’t been for the bright flashes of dragonflies hunting small insects drawn to the callas’ glow.
To Marsh, even the insects seemed subdued and careful, as though they didn’t want to be noticed. It was as if a swarm of predators had passed and the tunnels’ residents weren’t entirely sure they had gone. As the party approached a tangled grove of callas and golden gleams marking the entrance to the Grotto, it proved to be a fear well-founded.
The only warning they had was when the callas came alive around them. Arms sprung from the shroom’s sides, and they reached for the nearest riders. One of the guards gave a startled shout as they were pulled clear and held firm against the shroom’s trunk. Mordan screamed a hoshkat roar of defiance and outrage, and Marsh twisted, trying to find her.
Before she could, however, she caught sight of a swarm of small forms leaping across the tops of the callas as the mules in the lead bolted forward, their riders clinging to their saddles and Gustav shouting a blue streak.
More mushrooms moved on their flanks and Marsh kicked free of the mule, dropping to the ground and sprinting for the trail’s edge. She figured once she got clear of the path, she could do something, completely forgetting there was a reason she was supposed to be resting.
The world swayed and she slammed a hand against the nearest thing to steady herself. Roeglin’s mount gave a startled snort and leapt forward, dumping the shadow mage at her feet and sending her headlong to the ground.
The small creatures they’d seen bouncing over the shrooms landed amongst them. Most hit the backs of mules. They scampered quickly onto the riders, biting and scratching, their shrill voices screeching. Some landed on the trail and bounced up toward the nearest person.
“What in the Shadow’s name...” Marsh began and felt Roeglin clawing at her leg.
She reached down and grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet, feeling grateful the mules had scattered rather than milling in one spot. One of the small monstrosities leapt from the back of Zeb’s mount and landed on her head, its small hands yanking at her hair as it shrieked.
Marsh didn’t think. Ban or not, this thing had to go. Coating her hand in black lightning, she slapped at it.
Damn! She had just enough time to think the whatever-they-weres moved fast when her palm struck her now critter-free neck and pain jolted through her. This time, Roeglin caught her, although they both stumbled sideways until they’d regained their balance.
“No magic,” he muttered, and Marsh was sure it was supposed to be a yell.
“Shut up and run.”
They wound their arms around each other’s waists and staggered clear of the trail. Neither of them stopped until they’d worked their way past several motionless callas. The brevilar shrooms beyond them looked like a much safer resting place...
...right up until half a dozen small kat-like forms wound their way out of their shadows and stalked toward them.
“Friends of Mordan’s?” Roeglin asked, letting go of Marsh so they could both step clear and draw their swords.
“I didn’t know Mordan had friends here.”
They stepped wide enough to fight, but not wide enough that the small kats could get between them. Neither of them wanted to think of what would happen if the little screeching things came back.
One of the cats lunged forward and Marsh took a step back, striking out at the creature. It twisted away from her blade with a defiant yowl, and she glanced around to make sure none of the kats had gotten behind her. The two humans casting a net at them came as a complete surprise.
Marsh had enough time to twist toward Roeglin but not enough time to push him clear before the net’s weighted folds wrapped around them. They staggered sideways, keeping their footing as they struggled to free their arms.
Marsh dropped her sword and wormed her arm around, trying to reach her dagger. There wasn’t time. The net casters followed their cast with a rush, wrapping their arms around Marsh and Roeglin and forcing them to the ground.
They landed hard, Marsh with her hand trapped beneath her and Roeglin with a slight groan. Marsh heard the schnick of metal clearing a scabbard.
“Not raiders!” she shouted. “We’re not raiders. See? Not...”
A rough hand covered her mouth.
“What you are and are not we will soon see.”
Before she could work out the meaning behind that, her attacker was in her head. He was reaching for her memories when she screamed. Seconds later, he was out of her mind and looking at her with concern.
“Who did that to you?”
Beside her, Roeglin managed a weak chuckle. “She did that to herself, you Deeps-cursed son.”
“And you?” The question was followed by a short sharp cry and then, “Both of you? How did that happen?”
But Roeglin had gone boneless, and the other caster intervened. “We need to return.”
“Bien.”
Marsh drew a shaky breath as their captors got off them, but she lay very still as they lifted the nets clear, removing her weapons as they disentangled her.
“Up.”
She stood. It required some help, but she got there.
“This way.”
Marsh hesitated.
“Don’t make me carry you.”
The other netter scooped Roeglin up and slung him over his shoulder. When they both turned away, Marsh followed, all too aware of the dozen green-and-gray-furred kats arrayed around them.
She wanted to ask where the others were but didn’t think she’d get an answer. The answer was soon clear as the netters led her back to the trail where the rest of the caravan was waiting. Zeb and Gerry were leaning on each other, and Gustav was glowering at the two that had hold of the rope wrapped around his hands.
He turned his head as she arrived, relief and anxiety washing over his face as he took in Roeglin being carried. Marsh raised her hand as he went to speak. “We’re fine.”
Gustav subsided and returned his attention to the man and woman standing in front of him. They seemed to ignore him, surveying the gathered caravan as though counting heads. When they were sure everyone was there, they nodded and turned to lead the way into the Grotto.
At least, that’s where Marsh thought they were going. She was surprised when they turned off the trail, raising their hands as their eyes flashed green. The sight of the calla shroom and the brevilar moving aside didn’t come as a surprise, given the moving shrooms in the attack.
And wouldn’t she like to know exactly how they had accomplished that?
Marsh followed them, glancing around at the others as she did and doing her own headcount. It took her a moment to find the children, and she should have known Tamlin would be keeping a firm grip on his sister.
The boy’s eyes met hers and he scowled.
As if any of it is my fault, Marsh thought, but she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that it probably was.
3
Arrival at Ariella’s
Their captors led them in silence, some falling back to ask the shrooms to close the path behind them, hiding all trace of their passing. Marsh glanced over her shoulder, catching Elise’s eye as the woman walked beside her husband, holding her daughter’s hand.
The mind mage gave her a solemn nod, the smallest of smiles playing around her mouth. Marsh wondered what the woman had to smile about but took the reassurance. Maybe everything would be all right.
They walked for at least an hourglass before their captors stopped in front of a sheer rock face. Marsh tensed, moving closer to Roeglin until the other netter, her netter, took a firm hold of her arm.
“
Not so close.”
She tried to shrug him free, and his grip tightened, drawing her back a step. Marsh let him. His fingers were pressing hard enough to bruise, and she couldn’t find the strength to fight...not even if she’d been able to. She turned her attention to what their attackers’ leaders were doing at the wall.
For a moment, she expected to see a gateway open up through the stone itself. When that didn’t happen, she sagged with relief. Her reaction drew a strange look from her captor.
“We are not raiders, either.”
Again, Marsh tried to pull her arm free of his grip, and this time he let her go.
“Come.”
As if she would do anything else with Roeglin and the rest of her people being led through the parted stone. Marsh made a note. While the two leaders hadn’t opened the way, their eyes had flared white.
When she passed through the arch, she looked for the mages that had to be there—and was not surprised when she found them. Both were staring in the direction of the arch, but not looking at anyone who passed through. They were focused entirely on the edges of rock, their eyes as black as pitch in the golden glow of the brevilars surrounding the arch.
Two of the smaller kats broke off from the pack and went to wind themselves around the mages’ legs. One smiled, reaching down with one hand to scratch ‘his’ kat behind the ears. He kept his eyes locked on the arch as he did so, and sweat glistened on his brow.
Seeing the kats reminded Marsh that she’d lost sight of Mordan. Reaching for the kat was second nature, and white light danced across her vision as she did. The hoshkat’s growl was accompanied by the briefest brushes of contact, and Marsh whimpered, partly with relief and partly in pain. Ahead of her, Gustav cursed.
Marsh opened her eyes and looked toward him. She was in time to see him jerk his bound hands free of those holding the rope. They let him go and he came back to her.
She was sure he’d have wrapped an arm around her shoulders if his hands had been free. As it was, he came to a stop in front of her and stared at her face. “What did I tell you about not using magic?”
Trading by Shroomlight Page 2