“Cherche, Mordan.”
The instruction was delivered in a tone that expected immediate obedience, and Marsh felt her eyes widen. The hoshkat tilted her head toward Marsh before focusing on the girl. As Marsh watched, the kat got slowly to its feet, gave a luxurious stretch, and bared her ivory fangs in a long yawn. Aisha hopped from one foot to the other, her small face anxious as the kat sat and made a show of licking her foreleg.
It took the child a few minutes, but she finally got the message.
“S’il plait, Dan? Pretty s’il plait?”
The kat stopped grooming and regarded the child with her azure gaze.
“Please cherche.”
With a soft growl, Mordan got to her feet and wandered through the wounded, occasionally stopping to sniff at one or another. After a single round, she came back and looked at Marsh. Apparently, the pride was clean. No more darkness tainted their wounds.
Marsh breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at Aisha.
“Mordan says no one else.”
The little girl sagged and walked over to lean on the kat.
“Good kitty,” she said, stroking Mordan’s fur. “Good, good, kitty.”
Across the room, Master Envermet cleared his throat.
Marsh lifted her head at the sound, stretching out her hand for Aisha to take. She glanced toward Master Envermet and led the little girl closer.
“Aisha, do you have something you’d like to say to Master Envermet?” she asked, and the only warning she had of impending trouble was the slight frown that creased the child’s brow.
By then it was far too late.
Aisha let go of her hand and stalked up to the shadow captain, stopping in front of him long enough to tap his stone-covered thigh.
“You are a very bad man,” she told him. “No stop helping. Is rude.”
She stamped her foot and looked at Marsh.
“Dere,” she declared, and she walked out of the infirmary, her small head held high.
A snort came from one of the neighboring blankets, followed by a muffled laugh and then a groan from another. The sound shook Marsh out of her drop-jawed disbelief, and she closed her mouth.
“Aysh…” she began as the little girl vanished into the courtyard, but Aisha showed no sign of hearing her…or stopping if she had. “Aisha!”
Tamlin started to sputter, and Roeglin made a sound suspiciously like a choked-down snort. Marsh hurried to the door.
“Aisha Liliana Danet!”
Behind her, Tamlin started to snigger, and Roeglin unsuccessfully tried to muffle a chuckle.
“Aisha!” Marsh shouted, catching sight of the little rat walking toward the first formation of soldiers, but the child paid her no heed and kept walking. The soldiers faltered in their first round of katas but then continued.
Marsh quickened her pace, only to freeze as Master Envermet’s voice rolled out of the infirmary and over the parade ground.
“Apprentice Danet! Report!”
Marsh was relieved when Aisha paused and devastated when the child started moving again—in the opposite direction. Master Envermet’s voice rumbled past a second time, and Marsh wished she could have stepped out of its way. The sound was like a breeze blowing over her skin.
“Apprentice Danet! This is your second warning!”
The soldiers in the formation started laughing. Marsh wondered what they knew that she didn’t.
“Three!”
And the soldiers snapped into three perfectly straight lines.
“Cookie…” the multi-voiced whisper echoed around the courtyard, and Aisha’s footsteps faltered.
Marsh looked around, wondering where the whisper had come from.
Aisha looked over her shoulder.
“Two…”
The men started chanting.
“Coo-kie! Coo-kie! Coo-kie!”
To Marsh’s utter surprise, Aisha gave a shriek of frustration and bolted back across the courtyard.
“I coming! I coming! I coming!”
As soon as she’d disappeared back into the infirmary, the soldiers started laughing—right up until their commanders barked out orders to resume their katas. Marsh looked from the men back to the infirmary, and then around the courtyard.
She jumped as Master Envermet’s voice reached out again.
“Shadow Master Leclerc, return!”
This time, the men did not stop performing their katas, and after a moment’s consideration, Marsh turned around and followed Aisha’s path back to the infirmary. To her surprise, Aisha was standing in front of the Shadow Captain, and the stone had returned to the floor. He looked from the child’s upturned face to the door as Marsh entered.
“Come here, Shadow Master.”
Marsh stifled a sigh and went. Master Envermet apparently had a point to make, and they were right at the center of it. His voice was almost pleasant when he spoke, although Roeglin’s completely blank face did not bode well.
Marsh’s fears proved well-founded.
“I believe you and Apprentice Danet have volunteered to assist in clearing the stables and latrines this evening,” he said, his voice deceptively mild.
Marsh heard Aisha draw a breath and nudged the child before she could speak. Master Envermet caught the movement, and his eyebrow twitched.
“I also believe,” he continued, “that you both needed to study the local fungi. I have a team gathering edibles and clearing the ground around the walls tomorrow morning. You will join them.”
“Ceres and Valglin will escort you.”
The two guards Mordan had knocked to the floor were waiting near the door. Marsh stifled a groan, then said the only thing she could think of.
“Yes, Master Envermet.”
It was a relief to hear Aisha’s voice echo the words.
5
Goodbyes
“No crying,” Marsh said, sternly waving a scrubbing brush at Aisha. “You did it.”
“You did too!” the little girl howled, and Marsh’s heart went out to her.
Truth was, Aisha probably wouldn’t have done it if Marsh hadn’t shown her the way—just like the time she’d snuck out of Monsieur Gravine’s fortress to follow the Protectors sent to rescue Marsh—and that had been just over a fortnight ago. Marsh had snuck out first, and it had been her fault she’d needed rescuing in the first place. Marsh sighed. Oui…
She was supposed to be the adult. Time she stepped up and adulted.
“You want a hug?” she asked, and, just like that, the child was in her lap, winding her arms around Marsh’s neck and sobbing into her shoulder.
Marsh set the scrubbing brush aside.
“You need a bath,” she said.
“Do not.”
“Uh huh.” Marsh got up and walked to where a communal tub had been set up in one corner.
The water was lukewarm and just a bit murky, but she got Aisha into it and soon had her scrubbed down and wrapped in a towel that was cleaner than what she’d been wearing.
“Let’s get you to Brigitte,” she said. “I’ll finish up here.”
“You be up all night,” Aisha protested and Marsh shrugged, letting the smallest of smiles touch her lips.
“It’s my fault,” she said. “I set a bad example, and you copied me.”
“Did not.”
“Did too.”
“Did not.”
“Uh huh…did so too.”
“I not have to copy.”
Aisha’s face was solemn, and Marsh ruffled her hair.
“True, but you’re littler than me. I get to do the most scrubbing.”
“Do...” Aisha’s argument was swallowed by a huge yawn. “Not,” she finished as Marsh reached the dining hall.
On her way out of the latrines, she’d realized she didn’t know where they were supposed to sleep. Nudging the door open, she crossed to the food service area.
“Do you know where I can find Journeyman Petitfeu?” she asked the woman behind the counter.
> “Kitchen.”
The woman gestured over her shoulder, then screwed up her face at the sight of Aisha in Marsh’s arms.
“You can’t take that through there.”
Marsh raised her eyebrows and smiled sweetly.
“If you don’t fetch the journeyman,” she said, “I’m going to leave this sleeping on your serving counter.”
“You would—” The woman shut her mouth abruptly as Marsh stepped up to the counter, shifting Aisha in her arms.
Judging by the child’s dead weight, she’d fallen asleep on the way across the courtyard. Marsh started smirking as the woman scuttled through the door to the kitchens, returning shortly afterward with Brigitte in tow.
“Marsh!”
“I’m sorry, Journeyman, but I’ve got to get back to scrubbing. Do you mind?”
Brigitte bustled around the counter to take the sleeping child in her arms.
“Of course, I will. You’d better go before…” She sighed, her eyes turning to someone who’d just come into the dining hall behind Marsh. “Never mind.”
Marsh sighed as well and turned, knowing exactly who Brigitte had seen waiting behind her. There were days when she hated being right; whole weeks, even. Her heart sank as she saw Master Envermet.
“I was just returning,” she said.
His face was stern.
“I did not give you permission to leave. Do you like missing meals?”
“No, Master.”
“That’s too bad. Don’t bother reporting for breakfast.”
“No, Master.”
“The apprentice too,” he added, and Marsh bristled.
“The child,” she snarled, “is not missing a meal on my behalf. I decided it was her quitting time, and I decided it was her bath time, and her bedtime, and I brought her here for the journeyman to put to bed. Those were not her choices but mine.”
“Nevertheless—”
“Nevertheless, nothing!” Marsh snapped. “She’s learned her lesson, and you’re going to let her be.”
Beside her, Brigitte gasped, but Master Envermet merely quirked an eyebrow, and his mouth twitched in what might have been amusement.
“I think I will be the judge of that.”
“Not tonight, you won’t, and not tomorrow, either. She is my responsibility, and I say she has had enough.”
“She is under my command, and I disagree.”
“I contest your right.”
Marsh didn’t understand why Brigitte was moving away from her, but the woman was no longer at her side. Marsh heard footsteps—two sets of footsteps—heading for the kitchen door.
“You are also under my command,” the shadow captain reminded her in the mild tones he used when he was particularly angry, “and you’re already under disciplinary measures.”
“I’ll skip her meal for her,” Marsh said.
Roeglin stepped into the hall behind the shadow captain and came to an abrupt halt, his eyes drawn to the ceiling above them.
“Master Leclerc,” he said, acknowledging Marsh’s presence even as his face paled and he swallowed hard. He looked at the captain. “Master Envermet, may I speak with you?”
“When I’ve finished here,” Envermet replied, but Roeglin darted across the hall, slid his arm through the captain’s, and wheeled him around.
“You’re done,” Roeglin assured him. “Come with me, and I’ll explain.”
“Master Leger!” The captain was outraged, but Roeglin towed him to the door and shoved him out into the courtyard before he could protest further.
He looked back at Marsh.
“Take three deep breaths, then clean up that mess on the ceiling,” he instructed before pulling the door firmly closed.
Marsh stared at the closed door.
What mess on the ceiling?
She looked up and took several hasty steps back.
Shadows rolled and crackled in an inky mass over her head, and when she moved away from the cloud, it followed. Across the room from her, the door cracked open and the darkness struck out. The door was pulled shut seconds before shards of dark lightning slammed into it. They lodged there momentarily before sizzling back to the ceiling and sliding back to join the cloud.
Marsh backed up a bit farther.
“I said three. Deep. Breaths, Leclerc!”
And there he was, shouting at her again. If the man wanted her to calm down, he needed to try something different.
Uh huh. How about I kick your ass?
Yeah, you and what shadow army? Marsh thought and watched as more lightning lanced out from the rolling mass over her head. This time the door exploded.
“Shadow’s Deep, shadow mage! There are folks out here want to eat sometime before mid-cycle!”
What was it with men and their food?
I heard that.
Yeah, and you resemble that remark, Marsh thought, but she didn’t say it out loud.
Hey!
If the boot fits…
Roeglin sighed in her head.
You want to tell the shadows that you really are okay and they don’t need to protect you? You know, before someone decides the stew’s good enough to risk their life for?
And here she’d thought supper was long over.
Roeglin’s reply was succinct.
Changing of the guard.
Well, Shadows Deep and damnation. That made things awkward. Okay…
Marsh spread her arms, letting out a long breath before taking another and pulling her hands in close to her chest as though drawing both air and shadow to herself. This time, when she let her breath out, she kept her arms furled against her chest.
The next time she took a breath in, she lifted her hands toward the ceiling like a cup.
“I am safe,” she said, pushing aside the idea that Master Envermet was going to have her hide for exploding the door.
“No, he won’t!” Roeglin called from behind the safety of the wall. “He promises.”
“Promises what?” Envermet might not know what Roeglin was saying on his behalf, but he was smart enough to know it was on his behalf.
Marsh let Roeglin answer for her.
“Not to have her hide.”
“Oh, no, I won’t have her hide.” Master Envermet paused as though searching for a suitable alternative. What he came up with wasn’t much better. “I’m just going to make her sorry she was ever born.”
There was a soft grunt, as though the shadow captain had just copped an elbow to the ribs, and Marsh felt laughter bubble out of her at the thought of the look on Roeglin’s face.
Whatever makes you happy, he muttered. Out loud he asked, “Are they gone yet?”
Marsh opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling. The shadow still hung above her, but it was less restless, and the lightning didn’t flicker as often in its depths.
“All safe,” she told it, giving Roeglin’s question the attention it deserved, “and I have tasks to complete. Thank you for your protection.”
She waited, watching the cloud and wondering how she had managed to call so much so fast. She also wondered how she’d managed to get lightning to come when she couldn’t call enough energy to light a glow, and she wasn’t under any threat.
Maybe you need to think of the light as lightning? Roeglin suggested, then added, Is it gone yet?
Marsh looked up, but the cloud was still there. It was no longer a seething mass, but more a sheet of rolling dark.
As she was wondering exactly what she’d have to do to get it to go away, another voice interrupted, “Are you done yet? Cos we’re starving out here!”
Marsh rolled her eyes. Trust Henri to whine the loudest.
“You wanna come through the door and see?”
“You mean the one that’s not on its hinges anymore?” He filled the empty doorframe. “Why don’t you give it your best shot?”
Marsh laughed, scattering the shadows with a wave of her fingers as she stalked over to tap the big guard on the chest with her forefinger.
“Couldn’t skewer you with lightning, Henri. Lennie would have my hide, and I’m partial to it being attached.”
“Shouldn’t piss the captain off so bad, then,” he retorted, pushing her hand back to her chest before stepping around her and heading for the eatery.
Marsh figured the man might have a point, but Master Envermet was standing right next to the open doorway, and she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of hearing her say so. Instead, she kept walking, heading back to the latrines and the scrubbing brush she’d discarded to give Aisha a hug.
She finished late and was up early, remembering her punishment from the night before and skipping breakfast to help muck out the mules, clean the latrines, and join the foraging team. She was swinging a shadow scythe with brutal efficiency when Roeglin tapped her on the shoulder. It was no surprise to see Captain Envermet at his side.
Marsh turned, releasing the scythe to the darkness.
“We leave in an hour,” Roeglin told her. “You need to get ready.”
Marsh glanced past him at the shadow captain.
“You’re released from duty,” he said, and moved on to speak to the forage team’s leader.
Marsh fell into step beside Roeglin.
“So, how much shit am I still in?” she asked, and he glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.
“Nowhere near as much as you should be. Captain had to make a point to keep discipline. You were dumb enough to force his hand.”
Marsh thought about that and shrugged. Man had a point. She had kinda earned the captain’s wrath. It was a thought that Roeglin didn’t let go past without comment.
“Yuh think?”
Marsh decided not to dignify that with an answer.
“So, what’s for lunch?”
“Nothing. You’re skipping a meal for Aysh, remember?”
Marsh groaned. Now she remembered.
“Forgot. I’ll go saddle the mules.”
Roeglin shook his head.
“No mules to spare. We’re walking the rest of the way. Your pack’s waiting by the gates.”
“Thought you said I had an hour to prepare?”
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