by Todd Herzman
‘Stop,’ a man’s voice called.
The man let go of the chain, which he’d looped around her neck a single time, constricting her breath. It loosened as he let go. She sucked in a breath.
‘You must be the sister,’ said the same voice that had spoken before. The blood mage, hands neatly behind his back, strolled over the sand to meet her. He tilted his head. ‘I do wonder what the God King sees in you. How powerful can you truly be, taken down by a man with a chain?’
He grabbed the end of the chain and gently unwrapped her neck. Ella glared into the man’s eyes, but he didn’t look back at hers. Once he’d taken the chain from her neck, he looped it through and pulled it tight where it bound her arms. She tried to struggle, but something stopped her—an invisible force.
The blood mage’s power.
The blood mage looked past Ella, to where Aralia lay on the ground. He strolled over to the blonde witch. ‘I am disappointed, Aralia Halarani.’ He knelt beside her, looking at the arrow sticking out her back. ‘Your brother said you would put up a fight. Yet it only took one arrow…’ He flicked his hand.
The arrow shot out of Aralia. The witch screamed. The blood mage stood and clicked a finger. Ella winced, expecting something horrible to happen, but all the click did was send the man who’d held the chain to kneel and tend to Aralia’s wound.
‘Quite a day. Burned down the Serpentine and caught two witches.’ For someone so self-congratulatory, the blood mage sounded almost bored. ‘Shame I only get to keep one of you.’
The blood mage’s back was turned, facing out at the two ships on the water. Ella found she could move again. Not her arms, still bound by the chain, but her legs. She stumbled forward, not sure what she would do when she reached the man—bite at his neck? She was a step away when his hand flung up. Ella launched back, slamming into the sand with a dull thud—the wind taken from her lungs.
She closed her eyes, the sun blaring down. She squinted. Then a shadow blocked the light. The blood mage stood over her with a smug smile. He knelt and put a hand on her head. She flinched away but couldn’t move far.
‘Hush, girl.’ He stroked her hair and she shook with fear. ‘It’s time to sleep now.’
Ella realised how tired she was, how easy it would be to fall asleep here on the sand. Her eyes became heavy. She closed them, just for a moment… and drifted off into the darkness.
~
Ella woke slowly. The floor moved, gently swaying. Was she back on the Serpentine? She opened her eyes and stared at a wooden ceiling. This wasn’t her cabin—
Memories flooded back to her. She tried to sit up but found her arms and legs bound. She struggled against the restraints but couldn’t budge them. Her rage flickered on and she reached inside to draw on her powers, but they were still drained. Her arms and legs were tied fast with rope to a bed frame. She looked about the room. It was small. Smaller than her own cabin back on Reena’s ship.
Reena. Her ship burning. Aralia. An arrow in her side.
Ella fought against the rope binding her hands until her wrists became raw. She wanted to shout, scream for her friends—any anger she’d held onto from them lying to her disappeared. She just wanted them to be okay.
What if they were already dead?
Her wrists stung. Blood dripped from rubbed-raw skin. She stopped struggling and lay back on the bed, breathing as if she’d swung a sword three dozen times. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tried to centre herself like she had back on the beach. How could it be that she’d just started learning to use her powers, and now they were gone? How could it be that Jacob, Reena, Aralia—maybe the whole crew, maybe the whole island—were gone? How could she lose so much in one day?
It’s happened before, she thought. The day Ruben was taken.
She shoved those thoughts away and focused on her breathing. Her mind kept telling her it was no use—her powers were depleted, gone. But what else could she do? She fought her impulse to give up. She thought of the ball of mana—of energy—she’d used in the cave to light her way. That’s what gave Ella her powers, wasn’t it? That’s what the reserve inside of her—the one she could no longer feel—was made of.
Ella’s focus sharpened. She felt the emptiness within, the lack of mana, of energy. But she didn’t let it break her concentration. She let her focus shift; she moved her senses to look outside herself. She probed the room, hoping to find the same energy. When she’d first seen the blood mage, she’d felt the power emanating from him. As her senses expanded, she could feel him again—a dark patch of energy above her. It kept moving, back and forth. He must be pacing on the upper deck.
Ella pulled her senses away from the blood mage. There were other patches of energy on the ship, much smaller and lacking the darkness. People, Ella realised. She was sensing people. She pushed her senses down and was almost overwhelmed when she felt a well of power somewhere in the bowels of the ship.
Aralia.
Ella remembered what it had been like to be in another’s mind. The mind of her brother. Aralia had made that happen, and she’d been able to because Ella and Ruben shared the same blood. Aralia had also told her about people who could read minds, or put thoughts, feelings, entire books into people’s heads. If Ella could sense Aralia, could Aralia sense her back?
The energy coming from Aralia was different to that of the blood mage. It was similar to the other people on the ship, but… more. Ella wasn’t sure what to do, not knowing how to connect with another’s mind—or even if it was possible. Perhaps Ella could do it, but perhaps she could only do it with mana. Something she didn’t have.
There was nothing else but to try. Ella pushed her senses closer to the well of energy she knew was Aralia. She made her mind prod it, just as she might prod the energy within herself to access it. Her mind contacted the energy. She could almost taste the power. She pushed at it harder—
Ella’s head blossomed with pain. As if she’d hit a stone wall at a sprint. She lost her focus. All she felt was the sting in her brain, her senses no longer spreading beyond herself. The pain unrelenting, enveloping her entire mind.
Someone screamed, so loud she wondered if the noise would make her head explode. It wasn’t until she ran out of breath that she realised she’d been the one screaming.
Chapter 42
Marius
Marius could almost feel the bones he cracked. The thrall didn’t scream as he fell. He didn’t scream as his leg went the wrong way, as his arms contorted to the point he would no longer be able to swing a sword. The man’s mouth gaped, producing only an eerie silence.
Shouts sounded behind Marius. Peiter and Lilah, noticing he had gone.
Marius thrust his arms at another of the thralls, stopping the woman in her tracks. In the dark, he could just make out her features. A scar over her eye, dark hair pulled up in a braid. He threw her back and pointed his palms at another—but they were moving too fast. He’d downed the third when one reached him. A burly man, taller than Peiter and stronger than Ruben, knocked him to the dirt.
Marius rolled on the cracked earth and sprang back to his feet. As he did, he realised he was surrounded.
Another shout rang out, and two of the thralls fell. Marius turned, catching a glimpse of Peiter and Lilah sprinting toward him, the monk’s hand outstretched, the seeker throwing a dagger and drawing her offhand sword.
One of the thralls grabbed at Marius, wrapping an arm around his neck. Two other thralls grasped at his hands, preventing him from using his powers.
More thralls fell as the monk and seeker made their way into battle. Then a blade pointed at Marius’s eye—he couldn’t see who held it—and a voice rang out in the night, ‘Stop.’
The voice came from a half-dozen places at once, sounding deep and mangled, confusing Marius’s mind. Peiter and Lilah stopped short when they heard it and saw the blade.
Marius, his whole body shaking in fear, stared at Peiter, hoping the old mo
nk would read his mind. Leave, he thought. They want me, not you.
The monk looked at his pleading eyes, and Marius knew he’d been heard. Peiter shook his head, ever so slightly.
‘The boy belongs to me,’ the voice said. As the words came, the mouths of the thralls moved, and Marius realised why the voice sounded wrong. It wasn’t one voice, it was many—every thrall speaking in unison.
Lilah stepped forward, arming sword gripped in her left, her right on the hilt of her Starblade. ‘If you want him, that means you won’t kill him.’
The arm around Marius’s neck tightened, making the boy gasp for breath.
‘Kill? No.’ The thrall holding the blade moved it around, letting the light of the moon catch its edge. ‘But there are many things that can be done to a body that won’t cause death.’ The other thralls, the ones not holding Marius down, stepped toward Peiter and Lilah. ‘If you leave now,’ the voices spoke, ‘I will spare your lives, and the boy will not be hurt.’
Lilah hesitated, her hand falling off her Starblade’s hilt.
Peiter walked forward, his steps slow and careful as they always seemed to be. ‘The boy is an apprentice of the Tahali Monastery. You cannot take him—’ The monk paused, took in a breath. ‘As per the agreement our monastery has with your God King.’
Lilah’s head snapped to look at the monk. ‘Agreement?’
The monk’s hand came up, in a plead for her silence.
All the thralls’ heads tilted to the side, like birds peering at worms. ‘He is not an apprentice.’ One of the thralls walked straight past the seeker and stood close enough to touch the monk. ‘And you know that, Peiter.’ Peiter flinched at the use of his name. ‘One cannot become an apprentice monk until they set foot inside the monastery. Has this boy set foot inside the monastery?’
Lilah’s hand shifted back to her hilt. She drew it a fraction. Peiter’s eyes darted at her as she did.
Marius’s gaze fell back on the blade levelled at him, the hand holding its hilt. If Marius could raise his hand, he was sure he could use his power to push that hilt back—reverse the blade’s direction and send it into the neck of the thrall instead of his own. He tried to move his arms, but the other thralls’ grips hadn’t weakened.
Lilah faced the thrall closest, a deep fury in her eyes. ‘You will not take this boy.’ She touched the silver clasp fastening her cloak—one she wore only after they discovered she was a seeker. It had a symbol of a meteorite breaking through a starfall, heading to the earth. Then she touched the hilt of her Starblade. They shared the same engraving. ‘You know what I am, and you know what I do to your kind.’
The thralls all smiled at once. It wasn’t a human smile. It was as if someone had jabbed their thumbs in the sides of their mouths and twisted up their lips. Like their voices, it was unnatural, wrong. Controlled.
‘Seeker, seeker.’ Their heads all shifted at once, to look from Peiter back to Lilah. ‘A seeker and a monk walking the path together. What a sight, in a hundred years I haven’t seen its like. Draw your Starblade.’ Thrall heads all turned to Marius.
Marius’s eyes twitched from one to another. Their dreadful smiles, their wide, unfeeling eyes.
‘See what happens to the boy when you do.’
There were seven thralls left. One holding Marius’s neck, two at his arms, another with the dagger at his eye. The one who stood close to Peiter and Lilah held an axe, sharpened and shiny in the luminescent light. Another held a bow, nocked and aimed at the seeker.
The last held sword and shield, his eyes on the monk. If it weren’t for the awkward smile and the widened gaze, Marius might have thought the man a knight. He certainly looked like he would fight like one.
Lilah and Peiter exchanged a glance. The monk gave a slight nod. The seeker’s fingers twitched; the monk’s stance grew strong.
‘Please,’ Marius said. Everyone froze, all eyes—thrall and friend alike—faced the boy. His eyes watered as he forced out the words. ‘Let them take me. I don’t want the two of you to die because of me.’
‘Marius,’ Peiter said. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying.’
‘The monk is right. Blood mages are foul creatures. They just want you for your power—you’ll be a slave to them, turned into an empty shell like the men and women in front of us.’ Lilah waved at the gathered thralls.
Marius looked at the thrall holding the blade, noticing the scar on his forearm. He was a thin man, his face gaunt. What life had he lived before this?
Is that what I’ll become? Marius wondered. Fear gripped him as he stared into the dead eyes of the thrall.
He looked to Lilah, to Peiter. Lilah would draw her Starblade. He remembered what had happened the last time she did—the energy had been sucked right from him, his reserve depleted in moments. Marius hadn’t learnt how to shield against the Starblade’s effects like Peiter could, so he closed his eyes and focused, making sure the flow of mana was blocked.
Then Marius opened his eyes, looked to Lilah, and gave the slightest of nods.
‘I can take you to your brother,’ the thrall holding Marius whispered into his ear. ‘Ruben is here, safe. Don’t you want to be with your family?’
Lilah drew her Starblade. The head of the thrall in front of her fell from a single swipe. The knight-thrall sprang forward as the archer-thrall let loose an arrow. Peiter’s magic stopped the arrow in mid-air.
The thrall holding Marius’s neck let go. Marius took a deep, unhindered breath as the big thrall ran past him, barrelling toward Peiter.
Lilah parried the knight-thrall’s swing with her offhand blade and ducked out of the way as he tried to bash her with his shield. Peiter waved his hand, flinging the archer’s bow ten feet away.
Marius tried to rip his arms free.
‘Stop struggling, boy. Don’t you want to see your brother?’ the thrall holding his right arm whispered into his ear. The sound of one whispering was just as eerie as the whole lot talking at once.
Marius kept struggling. He twisted his right arm, trying to face his palm against the man speaking. Though if he could twist his arm and use his power, he’d collapse now Lilah’s Starblade had been drawn. ‘How do I know you’re telling the truth?’
The fight raged on, the man holding the blade to Marius’s eye ran off to join the melee.
‘Family doesn’t lie to family,’ the man whispered.
Marius froze. We don’t lie to each other in this family. That was one of Ruben’s rules. Did the thrall—whoever controlled the thrall—know that?
‘You’re not family.’ Marius stopped struggling. His arms felt weak and small. The more he tried to get out, the more exhausted he became. He gave up, tears streaming down his face, and watched as his protectors fought overwhelming odds.
The knight-thrall lay on the ground, bleeding from a wound to his side. The big man had picked up the fallen knight’s shield, blocking Lilah’s strikes as he tried to get close. Peiter kept pushing the thralls away from him, his arms outstretched.
The monk could have killed them, Marius knew, but he wouldn’t because of his oath. He was going to get himself killed because of his damned oath. Marius had gotten them into this, all because he’d wanted to help. All because he’d wanted to be brave. This was exactly what he’d wanted to avoid.
‘If I agree to come with you,’ Marius said, his voice strained, his throat sore from the thrall grasping his neck. ‘Will you let them live?’
‘They will follow you,’ the two thralls spoke as one. ‘I cannot have that.’
Peiter pushed a thrall down. Two others flanked behind him as Lilah fought off the man brandishing the shield.
‘You…’ Marius breathed. ‘You’ll kill them no matter what, won’t you?’
‘Yes. You’ll understand, when you’re older.’ The voice sounded different then—it still came from the same mouths, but there was a hint of emotion embedded within it, like whoever controlled them believed what they
were saying.
Marius didn’t think the voice was right. But… he did miss his brother.
Peiter struck out at one of the thralls who’d flanked him, throwing him to the ground. Other thralls he’d pushed over had gotten back up. The monk hadn’t used enough force to incapacitate them—probably afraid of causing fatal damage.
The burly thrall with the shield bashed at Lilah’s defending swords relentlessly. The man didn’t seem to tire—if he did, whatever power that controlled him prevented him from feeling the exhaustion.
When the thralls knocked Peiter down, Lilah was too preoccupied to notice.
Marius watched as the thralls kicked the monk from all sides—in the ribs, in the spine. In the head.
‘Stop!’ Marius yelled. ‘Stop, please!’ he shouted, over and over until his voice grew hoarse, until the monk’s robes were stained red.
The shield-wielding thrall missed a step, faltering as he tried to bash at Lilah again. Lilah sidestepped and hamstringed the man with her right-hand sword.
Marius tried to yell her name, but his throat stung, his mouth and tongue as dry as the earth beneath him.
Lilah spun around, seeing the thralls gathered at Peiter’s body, still kicking. Why would they still be kicking? Anger flashed in the seeker’s eyes. In that moment, she didn’t look tired—she didn’t look like she’d been pummelled at by a man twice her size. She moved with a graceful determination that reminded Marius of a wolf he’d once seen in the forests.
She wasn’t Lilah anymore; she wasn’t even a warrior—she was a primal force. She cut into the remaining thralls with a ferocious efficiency, like a farmer cutting fallow with their scythe, a butcher beheading chickens in the backroom.
One of the thralls holding Marius’s arms let go, running off to join the fray. Marius should have moved then. He should have taken the opportunity to dispatch the last thrall holding him back. But his arms just fell beside him, useless, as he watched Lilah kill the men and women in her way. He kept glancing between the seeker’s reddened swords, the monk’s bloodstained robes.