by J. J. Green
“Sit down, dear.”
Carina didn’t sit. She remained standing, stooped under the tent’s low roof. “What do you want to talk to me about?”
Magda, who was cross-legged on the floor, reached up and took Carina’s hand in her own. “I feel your presence whenever you walk past my tent. You are full of pain. You are radiating hurt. I think you bear the most suffering of anyone in this camp. I’m surprised Darius can tolerate being around you for long. I want to help you, if I can.”
Magda’s words surprised Carina. She’d never imagined her presence might bring her brother discomfort. The knowledge hardened her bitterness. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do to help me, unless you can change the past.”
“No one can do that, but sometimes it helps to explore it, accept it, and move on.”
“You think I should accept everything that’s happened?” Carina remained stubbornly standing. “How’s that going to help me?”
“Please, sit. I want to tell you about Faye and Kris.”
The mention of her parents’ names broke through Carina’s defenses. Her resolve not to open herself up to this woman quavered. She lowered herself to her knees. “What do you want to tell me about them?”
“Or perhaps it would be better if I showed your parents to you?”
“Showed them to me? How?” Mages could not keep images or recordings of each other. Everyone knew that.
“Spirit Mages do not only remember stories. One thing I have been teaching your brother is how to memorize what he sees. When he is older and I am dead, he will be able to pass on these images. It’s the only way we have of keeping a record of our kind. Carina, I was at the Matching where your parents met. I remember them. Would you like to see them?”
Was there anything in the galaxy Carina wanted more than to see her parents again? Perhaps, but not many things. She would give a lot to see them as they had been when they were young and before harm had come to them. “Yes, I would.”
“Good. Close your eyes. I will Send my memories to you. It may take some time, so please have patience.”
Carina did as the woman asked. Outside, the carefree sounds of the camp continued. Carina could hear people talking and laughing. In the distance, musical instruments played and people sang along. Someone had started a fire and Carina could hear it crackling. Faint smells of food cooking invaded the tent.
But Carina saw only darkness, until she saw them. The setting was the same. She could see the camp and the people, almost identical to the present, but the scene must have been from more than twenty years previously.
Ma and Ba were walking through the long grass at the edge of the camp, just talking, but the look of love that passed between them was so strong it was almost palpable. Ma looked almost exactly how Carina remembered her as a child, but more distinct and real. Her face was fresh and plump, not thin and sallow as it had been after years of torture from Stefan Sherrerr. Ba was a young, strong man, maybe not as handsome or strong-looking as some, but his expression was honest and kind.
It was too much. Instead of bringing her joy, the sight opened deep wounds inside Carina—wounds that had festered under scars she had forced herself to grow. The image of her parents so young and innocent, so full of love and happiness, so unaware of the horrors that lay in their future, caused Carina almost unbearable agony.
Her eyes snapped open. “Stop! Stop it!” She leapt up, knocking her head against a hanging cooking pot, and ran out of the tent. Momentarily blinded by the strong sunlight and confused by her emotional state, Carina paused. Then she set off through the camp, hardly knowing where she was going.
What had Magda been thinking? She was either an idiot or a sadist. Carina couldn’t understand why the old woman would subject her to something so painful. She had made everything worse, not better.
Carina strode on, unheeding of the glances of the young mages, until she found she had somehow made her way back to her own tent.
She stumbled inside. The place was dark and quiet. Only Bryce was there, stretched out and snoozing. Carina’s entrance woke him.
“Hey,” he said, “what’s—”
“Where’s Darius? Magda said she sent him back because he looked tired.”
“He’s gone to play in the prairie,” Bryce replied. “I guess he missed his brothers and sisters more than sleep.”
When she realized Bryce was alone in the tent and the children were not around, Carina turned and fastened the entrance.
“What are you doing?”
Carina had gone over to Bryce. He sat up. Welcoming the news they would be alone for a while, she kissed him hard on the mouth. For a moment Bryce was too shocked to respond, but then he kissed her back and pulled her close to his chest.
Carina remembered the first night they’d met, on Ithiya. Bryce had kissed her then. She hadn’t forgotten what a good kisser he was. As they held each other tightly, her pain began to lose its edge. She needed to push it all away, push the hurt back down where it belonged.
But then Bryce stopped kissing her. He looked into her surprised eyes, and disengaged himself from their embrace. He gripped her arms, holding her distant from him. “Carina, what is this? What’s going on?”
“What? Nothing’s going on. Let’s do it.” Carina leaned in to kiss him again, but Bryce moved his head backward.
He gave her a strange look. “Has something happened? Something’s wrong, isn’t it? This isn’t like you.”
Carina could feel her cheeks turning scarlet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She tried to kiss him again but he turned away.
“Carina, I—”
“For stars’ sake! Do I have to put in a request?”
Bryce was shaking his head. “Something’s rattled you. I can tell. Is this what you used to do with your merc buddies to get over your feelings when you were upset?” His tone was challenging.
Carina moved away from him, blinking away tears, shame tingling every fiber of her being. “How dare you…. If you don’t want me, that’s fine. Only I got a different impression.”
“I’m sorry. That didn’t come out how I meant it.”
But Carina was already leaving. She couldn’t bear the embarrassment. How would she look Bryce in the eye now?
“Carina, please don’t go. It’s just that it wouldn’t be right for our first time, not like this. Not because you’re hurting. I don’t want it to be—”
But she didn’t hear any more. Carina was outside the tent and walking away. She left the camp by the quickest route and marched onto the prairie. She continued walking, long miles, into the evening and the night.
Carina didn’t return until the pale gray pre-dawn light suffused the sky. The camp was quiet and everyone was asleep.
Chapter Twenty
Castiel hated traveling aboard a starship. He hated the claustrophobic conditions and the inconvenience. He also hated all his traveling companions: Commander Kee and his crew, the troops on board, Sable Dirksen, another clan member called Barrett, and most of all Reyes. Castiel figured that Sable had made them bunk mates so that Reyes could spy on him. Though he’d put Reyes in his place by ousting him from the top bunk, Castiel was at a loss about what else to do against the smug upstart.
Castiel’s position remained uncertain and shaky. Sable could use him, but he was not indispensable. To improve his position, he needed people he could directly control. Until then, he didn’t want to risk the disfavor of the Dirksens. Providing he did their bidding they would tolerate him as an ally, perhaps. As soon as he stepped out of line his days would be numbered.
Since the incident when Castiel had dropped Reyes on his face, the two roommates hadn’t spoken a word to each other, which was exactly how Castiel liked it. However, it was clear that Reyes was well liked by everyone aboard the vessel. He had plenty of social interactions, while no one spoke a word more than was necessary to Castiel.
Mealtimes were the worst. Sable sat with Kee, Barrett, Reyes, and a
couple of high-ranking officers. Castiel was not invited to sit at the same table, and Sable had given him an icy stare the first time he’d approached the group. When he sat at the tables for the rest of the crew, no one sat with him.
As the weeks had worn on, his anger at this unsubtle ostracization had grown.
The final straw came when Castiel returned to his cabin at the beginning of the quiet shift to find that Reyes had once more occupied the top bunk.
Castiel could hardly believe the older boy’s audacity and stupidity. Didn’t he know he was about to end up face down on the floor again, only thrown, not dropped this time?
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Castiel exclaimed. “Get down from there. That’s my bed and you know it.”
Reyes leaned over the edge of the bunk and glared at Castiel. “Make me.”
“All right, I will. You asked for it.”
Castiel took out his elixir bottle. He wondered how hard he could throw Reyes without any retribution from Sable. Then fury seized him. He was sick and tired of everyone’s treatment of him. He would throw Reyes from the ceiling to the floor and perhaps bounce him around the cabin with some Transport Casts. Maybe he would stop short of actually killing him.
He didn’t care what Sable said or did. He had enough elixir to inflict some serious damage on someone before anyone could stop him, come what may.
Reyes was watching him. Castiel took a swig from his canister without breaking eye contact with the Dirksen brat. When the liquid hit his tongue, he spat it out in surprise. The taste was wrong. It wasn’t elixir. He took another sip. The liquid was plain water. Castiel stared at the canister. How had they managed to switch the contents? He kept it by his side all the time.
Reyes was laughing. “I wish you could see your face. It’s quite the picture.” His laugh faded and his expression grew malevolent. “Not so cocky now, huh?”
Fear began to creep up on Castiel. Without his elixir, he felt naked and very vulnerable. He turned to leave the cabin, but there came the sound of movement behind him. A heavy weight landed on his back. Reyes had jumped onto him. Castiel’s face hit the door. He heard the crunch of his nose breaking. Agony stabbed at him and hot blood gushed out.
Castiel yelled. Reyes’ impact had forced him to the floor. Two hands grabbed his hair and lifted his head before slamming it into the floor, again and again. Reyes was yelling at him.
“You’re nothing but a traitor, Castiel Sherrerr, betraying your own kind. Your sister isn’t even a Sherrerr but she refused to help us. She had some honor. You’re nothing but a slime ball. A turd. A faithless, disloyal, two-faced toad.”
Finally, the banging of Castiel’s head on the floor stopped. Reyes climbed off his back. Castiel heard him stand, then Reyes’ boot thudded into Castiel’s side and pain erupted again. Reyes kicked him three or four more times. He moved away and the door opened.
“You’ll be given your potion when we want you to use it,” said Reyes. “And if you use it on one of us again, we’ll kill you.”
The door closed.
Castiel lay still. The blood from his nose had formed a lukewarm, sticky pool around his face. He had never hurt so much in his life. His head throbbed. It felt like Reyes was still banging it on the floor. His side ached where Reyes’ boot had landed. Castiel fought the urge to vomit. He fought the urge to cry even more. He would not shed tears like a baby. He was a man, and he would behave like one. That was what Father would have wanted.
In time, Castiel found the strength to sit up, though he didn’t move from the floor. He sat in his blood and brooded on his pain and hurt. He would never forget this moment. He had tried to help the Dirksens. All he’d desired had been to progress to his rightful place at the head of the clan. If they’d allowed him that, they all could have benefited. But instead the clan had chosen to use him, like he was nothing. They wanted what he had to offer, but they refused to give anything back, not even the recognition he was owed.
So be it. Castiel had played along and so he would continue, for exactly as long as it suited him. Then they would all pay, and pay dearly.
***
As if Reyes’ attack had been a trigger, Castiel noticed a deepening in the coldness he experienced from everyone aboard the ship. He was not confined to his cabin, as he’d suspected might happen, but no one spoke a word to him. No one looked at him. If he didn’t move aside in the passageways, the crew would walk right into him. It was like he was invisible, a ghost who didn’t know he was dead yet.
The supply of elixir he’d brought aboard the ship had, predictably, disappeared from the galley. When he asked the cook where it was, the man had looked through him as though he wasn’t there. He guessed the liquid would reappear when they arrived at Pirine, but he wasn’t even sure of that.
As he drifted about the ship while the seemingly endless journey dragged on, Castiel wondered why, if he was no longer considered an ally but only someone to be used, the Dirksens hadn’t put him in the brig. When the answer to this puzzle hit him, his cheeks turned fiery red with anger and shame. The reason the Dirksens hadn’t locked him up wasn’t due to fear of retribution, but the exact opposite: they didn’t fear him at all. They hadn’t confined him because they couldn’t be bothered.
This new understanding hit hard, and it was as much as Castiel could do to not take a mess knife and murder Sable Dirksen. The attention she’d shown him, scant as it was, had all been a sham. She’d only been playing with him, drawing as much information from him as she could. Now that she had what she wanted, all pretense was gone.
Fanciful ideas of revenge Castiel had formed previously devolved into a simmering black hatred, not only of the Dirksens, but of everyone else who had disrespected him over the years. He hated all of humanity, in fact. The only person who had ever treated him as he deserved was Father, and he was dead.
Castiel decided he would never show mercy to any human being.
Then the announcement came. The Elsinore had arrived at Pirine.
Chapter Twenty-One
Carina’s experience of the Matching had turned from pleasure to bitter unhappiness. Her friendship with Bryce was ruined, Parthenia still hated her, and the Spirit Mage seemed intent on overwhelming Darius with knowledge.
The old woman seemed to cause her nothing but heartache. Though Darius’ admiration and almost hero-worship of her had been over the top and unwarranted, Carina had been touched by it. The news that her presence caused her beloved brother pain had come as a shock, and she didn’t know how to deal with it.
The only saving graces of her family’s current situation were that Oriana and Ferne were finally, truly happy, and that Nahla was coming out of her shell. Her little personality was blossoming and it warmed Carina’s heart to see it. The girl had spent so long in Castiel’s shadow and following around at his heels, Carina had feared she would never get over it. But the kindness of Oriana and Ferne along with the young mages at the camp had paid off. Nahla no longer spoke in whispers or hung back from joining in activities.
If only Carina could similarly blossom. Though she was younger than many of the women and men at the Matching, she felt older and battle-worn, and she didn’t know if she would ever be fixed.
Various young men had approached her over the weeks in subtle but unmistakable ways. Carina had equally subtly rejected their advances. She was in no mood for love, and she had alienated the one person she might have considered in that way, through her clumsy proposition.
What was it Bryce had asked her during that shameful moment? Something about resorting to doing that with her fellow mercs when something upset her. She hadn’t thought about it, but maybe he had a point.
Having nothing better to do one evening, Carina decided to listen to another of the Spirit Mage’s stories. Darius and Nahla were already asleep and Oriana and Ferne agreed to remain in the tent to look after them. Carina walked through the camp in the heavy twilight toward the large, central fire where the Spirit Mage told h
er stories.
The Spirit Mage was sitting on the far side of the fire so Carina couldn’t see her. She could only hear the old woman’s story, which had already begun. Carina sat cross-legged. She rested an elbow on one knee and her chin on her palm, closed her eyes, and began to listen.
The Dark Mage had been working in secret—
Carina’s ears pricked up. This was the first story of a Dark Mage the Spirit Mage had told as far as Carina knew. She listened more intently, hoping to hear something useful.
When the story was over, despite the late hour, Carina decided to speak to the Spirit Mage before she returned to her tent. She had, if she was honest, all but given up on the idea of returning to Ostillon to try to find her mage half-brother and prevent him from exercising his powers for evil. But the Spirit Mage’s story had forced her to reconsider. Perhaps mages did have a duty to protect the rest of humankind from the evil possibilities of Casting.
Carina caught up to the old woman. “I’d like to talk about what you said tonight, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all. Did you enjoy the story?”
“I don’t know if ‘enjoy’ is the right word to describe how I felt about it. Did you hear that I have a half-brother who is a Dark Mage?”
“I did. The mage council has decided to wait to see what eventuates before making a decision about what we should do.”
“The mage council?”
“Ah,” said Magda, putting her hand to her mouth. “I shouldn’t have let that slip. I apologize. I’m getting old. Please don’t ask me any more about what I said.”
It wasn’t hard to guess the facts behind the old woman’s slip up. Justin, Jace, the Haihu’s captain, and other, older mages Carina had seen were clearly members of some organization involved in overseeing the activities of mages. Like most things in mage life, the council was secret.
But one thing was clear: the mage council was not going to tackle Castiel, or at least not until he did something truly dreadful. If anyone was going to take away his ability to commit evil acts, it was down to his family.