by Jasmine Walt
I took the children downstairs for breakfast while Sorbano procured the horses, and in no time at all, we were on our way. I was glad to see the children had no problem getting into the saddle—they probably made this trip on horseback a few times a year—and Sorbano seemed fairly comfortable as well. They were probably all better riders than me—I didn’t have much experience before coming to Southia, but I’d had to learn quickly since so much of the terrain was impassible by car or wagon.
“You weren’t kidding about these roads,” I said an hour later as we picked our way along a narrow path winding up one of the mountains. It was barely wide enough for two horses abreast and was littered with so many rocks that the horses had to tread carefully. We traveled single file, with Sorbano leading while I brought up the rear, the children sandwiched safely between us.
“How deep do you think that chasm is?” I asked as I peered over the edge.
“I try not to think about it,” Sorbano said dryly as he glanced back at me.
“Primo, why are you carrying that silly gun?” Tereso called. His gaze was trained on the large rifle strapped across Sorbano’s broad back. “You don’t know how to shoot, do you?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Sorbano said. “Señorita Melcott and I don’t have magic, so we have to rely on good old-fashioned weapons to defend ourselves. She’s got her blades and pistol, and I’ve got this. And you can be sure any bandits we meet will have guns, too.”
I glanced at the pistol at my hip again, which seemed pitifully small compared to Sorbano’s rifle. Perhaps I should have gotten something bigger? No, bigger wasn’t necessarily better, as the gun dealer had explained to me when I’d bought the pistol from him. And I wanted to be able to switch between weapons quickly, something I couldn’t do with a long-barrel firearm.
A loud rumble shook the ground beneath us, and my heart leapt into my throat as an avalanche of stones came rumbling toward us from the slopes above. “Look out!” I screamed, yanking my horse against the wall. The terrified animal fought me, shying away from the falling rocks, and it took everything I had to keep him from launching us both into the chasm.
The children threw their hands up at the same time, shouting the Words to a spell. A blue shield flared to life above us, and the rocks bounced harmlessly off it to roll into the chasm below.
“Nice trick,” a man said, stepping out from around the bend. He wore dusty clothes and a wide-brimmed hat that shaded his face, but the pistol in his hand was clear enough. Seven other men appeared behind him, dressed similarly and armed with swords and knives. “Now hand over the children and nobody has to get hurt.”
“Like hell we will!” Sorbano cried, his rifle already in hand. He pulled the trigger, but the gun misfired, and his horse startled and threw him from the saddle. My own horse nearly threw me as well, but I managed to urge her forward, charging after Sorbano’s horse as he cut a path through the bandits and knocking two of them off the cliffs. The bandits were so startled that they didn’t notice me grab the leader’s pistol. I shot four of them in quick succession, then trained both pistols on the last two men standing.
“Morning, boys,” I said pleasantly.
The other men lay on the ground, groaning and whimpering as they bled profusely. I didn’t glance down to see where my bullets had landed—I’d aimed for their torsos, like the gun dealer had taught me, and I knew they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. “Why don’t you do me a favor and drop your weapons?”
The two released their weapons, and their swords and knives clattered to the ground. “P-please, Señorita,” the one on the left stammered. I was pretty sure he’d pissed his pants, judging by the wet spot on the front of his trousers. “We don’t want any trouble.”
“If you didn’t want any trouble, you shouldn’t have tried to rob us!” Tereso fumed, stalking toward the bandits.
My pulse jumped in alarm as he conjured fireballs in both hands, and the towering fury in his dark eyes stunned me. Was he seriously going to kill them?
“Get back!” I snapped, shooting out a foot. Tereso face-planted unceremoniously into the dirt, and the fireballs in his hands snuffed out instantly. “Get out of here, pendejos, before one of these kids turns you into charcoal!”
The bandits didn’t have to be told twice. They hightailed it out of there, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake and the bodies of their comrades on the ground.
“How dare you!” Tereso howled, leaping to his feet. He conjured another fireball in his hand and trained his death glare on me. “Why did you let them go? The penalty for their crime is death!”
“Because I’m not the law, and neither are you!” I snarled, refusing to show fear even though there was nothing I could do to stop him if he chose to burn me to death. If I’d known how terrifying mage children could be, I’d never have taken this damn job! “Besides,” I added casually, dropping the anger from my voice, “you’re only ten years old. The last thing I need is for you to have a death on your conscience.”
“Please, hermano,” Belira said, tugging on her brother’s arm. Her eyes were wide with tears, and I realized that though the children had been incredibly brave, they’d probably never been in the thick of violence like this before. “Leave it alone. Señorita Annia was very brave, defending us like that.”
“Just doing my job.” I shifted my body to stand in front of them, blocking their view of the bodies. “Now let’s go check on your cousin, okay?”
The children nodded, and we hurried to Sorbano, who lay sprawled in the dirt. He was unconscious, but the pulse in his neck was strong, if a bit erratic.
“Primo,” Belira cried, shaking her cousin’s broad shoulder. “Wake up!”
Sorbano’s eyes fluttered open. “Wh-what happened?” he groaned, staring up at us. “And why are there nine of you?”
“Shit.” I checked him over and found a huge bump on the back of his neck. “Pretty sure you’ve got a concussion.”
“A concussion?” Tereso exclaimed. “What does that mean?”
“It means he hit his head too hard, and he’s going to die,” Belira wailed. She threw herself onto her cousin’s chest and began to sob her heart out. “Please, Primo, I don’t want you to die!”
“He’s not going to die,” I said. “We just need to get him to a doctor. Unless either of you can heal him?”
Tereso shook his head sadly. “We don’t know how to do that kind of healing magic. We can only fix small cuts and bruises.”
I nodded. “Okay, well let’s get him back onto a horse. The faster we can get him medical attention, the better.” His own horse had run off, so we led Belira’s horse over.
It took us three tries to get Sorbano back in the saddle. The first time he tried to stand up, he doubled over and vomited immediately, and the second time, his legs gave out. Finally, we managed to get him mounted, and I lashed him to the saddle to make sure he wouldn’t fall off when he passed out again.
Once I was certain he was secure, I helped the children into Tereso’s saddle. As I rummaged through the dead bandits’ belongings for any useful supplies, my gaze landed on Sorbano’s rifle. I considered taking it along with me, but after watching Sorbano handle it, that seemed like asking for trouble. Besides, I was up to two firearms now.
“Well, what do you know,” I said with a half-smile as I hauled myself up into my saddle. “Guess that guy was right. Bigger isn’t better after all.”
5
“Are you sure you want us to leave without you?” Belira asked Sorbano as we stood by his bedside. Her large blue eyes were wide with worry as she stood next to him. After a few more excruciatingly slow hours of travel, we’d finally found an inn where Sorbano could rest and a village doctor to treat him. Unfortunately, even after a night of sleep he still looked like hell. “We can wait for you to get better.”
Sorbano shook his head, then winced. “No, you must go on. Your grandfather will be very worried if you don’t arrive home on time. I will follow you once
I’m well enough to travel.” His gaze sharpened as he turned to me. “Take good care of them, Señorita Melcott, and do not deviate from the directions I gave you.”
“I’ll make sure they get there safely.”
The children said their goodbyes to Sorbano, and he seemed surprised and perhaps a little uncomfortable when they both gave him heartfelt hugs. I guessed he was so used to their snotty behavior that he hadn’t expected them to be genuinely worried for his welfare. And while it sucked that it took an injury to bring them closer together, maybe this experience would teach the children to treat Sorbano, and their other non-mage counterparts, more like equals.
Leaving Sorbano to rest, we packed up our things, collected our horses, and mounted up.
“Hang on,” Tereso said just as I urged my horse forward. “There’s a new spell I want to try.”
Curious, Belira and I watched as the little boy raised his hands and spoke a few Words. A blue ball of light began to glow between his palms, and as he chanted the spell, it began to spin, stretching and reforming itself with each turn.
“Ooh!” Belira clapped her hands as the ball of magic took the shape of a glowing bird. “A tracker!”
Smiling, Tereso opened his hands, releasing the bird in the air. “He will watch over us from above,” the little boy explained to me. “If he sees any bad men coming our way, he will warn us with a signal.”
“Amazing,” I said, watching the bird disappear into the clouds. It reminded me of ether pigeons, magical birds that were also created by a spell. They were used by mages to deliver messages, but I supposed there was no reason why mages couldn’t create birds to do other things, like spy or scout for them. “Why didn’t you do that before?”
Tereso shrugged. “The last time I tried, my bird came out looking like a penguin and everybody laughed at me.” His cheeks turned an adorable shade of red as he crossed his arms defensively. “But after Primo got injured, I remembered how my teacher said it was more important to focus on the spell than worry about what others might think if I messed up. So I tried.”
“Well I’m glad you changed your mind,” I said, leaning over to ruffle his hair affectionately. He scowled, but beneath his glare I could tell he was pleased. “Now let’s get going.”
We rode all day, stopping only briefly for a picnic lunch at noon. Sorbano had warned us there were no more inns along the road and that if we didn’t reach the Tarras estate, we’d be forced to camp in the woods. Thanks to the bird, we were able to avoid two more groups of bandits, but our alternate routes cost us precious time, and it was full dark when we arrived.
“Look!” Belira cried, raising the mage light she’d conjured to help light our way. The ball of magic shot forward, revealing a large gate looming up ahead. It was flanked by two huge stone pillars topped with strange geometric bird sculptures. “The Tarras falcons. We’re home!”
The children kicked their horses into a gallop, eating up the distance in seconds. The gates, which Sorbano had told me were reinforced with a magical barrier to keep intruders out, swung open as they approached, and I urged my horse after them, not wanting to get shut out in the middle of the night. Belira’s mage light briefly lit up our surroundings as we raced along the path, illuminating gardens that were probably stunning by day but were slightly menacing in the night. A white hacienda with a tiled roof waited beyond, welcoming light spilling out through the many arched windows, and as we got closer, the double doors flew open.
“Niños!” a woman cried as she flew into the courtyard. I gathered, from the long dress and apron she wore, that she was the housekeeper, and was surprised when the children raced right into her arms. “I’m so happy you made it home,” she said, hugging them tightly. Her eyes clouded with worry as she glanced around. “Where is Sorbano?” she asked sharply.
“He hit his head and got a concussion, so we had to leave him behind at an inn,” I explained as I dismounted. “He’s already been seen by a doctor, and he’ll join us in a day or so once he’s well enough to travel. My name is Annia Melcott, by the way. Sorbano hired me for protection.”
The housekeeper eyed the guns and knives strapped to my body with approval. “Thank you for getting them here safely. Please, come in. Señor Tarras will want to see you all.”
Two men stepped forward to take the horses and bags, and we left them to it, following the housekeeper inside.
My dusty boots clicked against the gleaming, intricately patterned red and white tiles, and I felt a brief pang of guilt walking through such a fine house in my dirty attire. But the housekeeper paid no mind as she led us through a series of corridors.
She stopped outside a closed wooden door. “Here you are, Señorita Melcott,” she said, tugging the door open to reveal a guest bedroom with a huge bed, a claw-footed tub already filled with steaming bathwater, and an array of large windows that looked out onto the garden. “Please take a few minutes to wash off the dust from the road. The chef is preparing a late dinner for you and the children.”
“Thank you.” As soon as I shut the door, I stripped my clothes off and hopped into that tub. I groaned as the hot water soaked into my skin, soothing my travel-weary muscles, but I didn’t allow myself to linger long. I had dinner to eat, and payment to collect.
After scrubbing myself clean and changing into a spare set of clothes, I went in search of the dining room, admiring the hacienda’s interior as I walked. The soaring ceilings with their exposed wooden beams, the wrought iron fixtures and beautiful artwork decorating the walls, and the tasteful, expensive furnishings in the rooms I passed all dripped with wealth. I’d been in plenty of mansions before, so the décor itself wasn’t all that impressive to me, but I did like the fact that the place had a distinctly welcoming air, which was directly at odds with the dire warnings Sophia and Camila had given me.
The scent of spices and roasted meat drifted through the air, a clue that I was getting close to my destination. Turning right, I walked through an archway and into a large sitting room. The walls and floor tiles were a dark, creamy yellow that complemented the exposed beams and dark wood furnishings, and a large, circular window looked out onto a huge marble fountain with falcons spouting water from their open beaks. An array of Southian dishes were laid out at a table that butted up against the back of one of the couches. Though my stomach ached for the food, my attention went to the man rising from the chair near the fireplace.
“You must be the mercenaria Sorbano hired,” he said gruffly, scrutinizing me with his steel-blue gaze. His silver hair and gravelly voice were the only signs of his age—outwardly, he was a robust, barrel-chested man with smooth, dark skin and blocky, handsome features. Like the mages I’d seen in the capital, he wore colorful robes with geometric patterns, and I recognized the Tarras eagle embroidered on the hems of his sleeves and neckline.
“And you must be Romil Tarras, head of the Tarras family. Pleased to meet you.” I inclined my head politely.
Señor Tarras opened his mouth, as if to speak, but the children rushed in. “Abuelo!” Belira cried as she and Tereso raced into the room, freshly washed and dressed. Tears welled in their eyes as they hurtled into their grandfather’s arms. “We missed you!”
“I missed you too, mis pequenos,” he said, the steely look in his eyes evaporating in an instant. “Is everything okay? How did the journey go?”
“It was fine,” Belira said, sniffling a bit as she pulled back. “We were attacked by bandits, and Sorbano hit his head trying to shoot them with his gun, but Señorita Annia fought them off and got us here safely.”
“I see. Is that why he isn’t here with you?” he asked me. “Because of his injury?”
I nodded. “We left him at an inn so he could recover. He’ll probably be along in a day or so. The doctor said the injury wasn’t too bad; he just needs some rest and medicine.”
Señor Tarras nodded. “Thank you for bringing my grandchildren back unharmed,” he said, disentangling himself from the children’s embrace. He
pulled a large money pouch from his sleeve—I’d learned from Sunaya and Iannis that mages had a magical pocket located there that could store just about anything—and tossed it to me. “Your fee.”
“Thank you.” I hefted the pouch, surprised at the weight. I was almost certain he’d overpaid, but I wasn’t going to complain. “Is it all right if I stay until the morning?”
“Of course. You can stay a few days, if you like. Please, come and eat.” He waved me over to the table. I blinked, surprised—he must be feeling gracious indeed if he was inviting me, a mere human, to sit with them. “You must be starving.”
The children and I loaded our plates with food, then sat down with their grandfather on the couches. I stayed fairly quiet as Señor Tarras chatted with his grandchildren, asking them questions about the journey, about their studies, and anything else he could think of.
“Abuelo,” Belira finally said in an exasperated tone. “I’ve already told you about my teachers. When are you going to tell us what happened to Papa? Is he alive?”
Señor Tarras sighed. “We don’t know,” he said gravely. “The men are still searching the caves for him.”
“How hard can it be to find him?” she wailed. “The caves aren’t that big!”
“And why aren’t you searching for him?” Tereso railed, throwing down his fork. “It’s been days now—Papa can’t hold on for much longer. We must find him!”
“Enough!” Señor Tarras shouted, his angry voice reverberating through the room.
The children recoiled as though they’d been struck, and though his expression was stony, I caught a flicker of guilt in his eyes.
“It’s time for bed, children,” he said in a slow, sonorous voice, waving his hand in front of Belira’s face. Magic sparkled from his fingertips and floated through the air to land on the children, and their eyes immediately began to droop. “Medea,” he called, snapping his fingers in the way I’d seen mages do when they magically summoned their servants, “please get them to bed.”