Trading By Stormlight (The Magic Below Paris Book 7)

by C. M. Simpson

  She was glad Master Envermet had run with them. If there were as many raiders as Mordan’s images indicated, they were going to need all the help they could get.

  “The villagers didn’t know there was a raiding party so close,” Obasi informed them. “They thought the previous one was the last one they’d see before winter, and then we arrived, and they thought it would be the last one they ever saw.”

  Marsh grunted an acknowledgment, and they ran in silence. Henri had traveled far in his hunt. Marsh wondered if any of the druids and warriors who had gone with him were hurt.

  Mordan sent an assurance that when she’d left, the big troublemaking male was the only one who’d been stupid enough to get himself hurt. There was more to it than that, but the kat wasn’t sharing, so Marsh left it alone. There’d be time enough later to dig it out.

  Judging by the brief denial that flashed across the kat’s mind, that wasn’t guaranteed. Marsh wondered why Mordan felt she should be embarrassed. It wasn’t as if the kat would have needed saving.

  Oh.

  Mordan spared enough of a mental presence to hiss at her before giving the external world her full attention. Marsh got the impression the kat would rather forget the whole incident and knew very well that Henri wouldn’t let her.

  “Are we nearly there?” The breathless question brought her back to the present, and she realized Izmay was running beside her.

  Mordan?

  The kat’s replay was instantaneous. Close.

  “Almost.”

  “Is he badly hurt?” Izmay’s next question was breathless with more than the effort of the run.

  This time, the kat seemed to realize what was at stake.

  He needs the child, or he will hunt the darks beyond.

  “Yes,” Marsh relayed.

  Izmay’s next breath sounded more like a sob than a gasp, but Marsh pretended she hadn’t heard.

  “I should never have let him go on his own,” Izmay berated herself.

  “He’s with four druids and warriors,” Marsh reminded her.

  “What did he do? Try to save one of them?” The woman would not be comforted.

  Marsh was blunt. “The kat.”

  That brought a choked laugh. “For true?”

  Mordan’s coughing grunt of protest was confirmation enough. Izmay slapped the kat on the rump.

  “You owe me, Dan.”

  Dan’s ears flattened to her skull, but that was her only reply. She slowed and dropped to her belly. As if she’d given a direct command, the warriors following her did the same.

  Marsh became aware of a presence hovering at the very edge of her mind.

  Yes?

  May I? Obasi asked, stepping into her head.

  Sure. What do you need?

  I need to know what the kat knows.

  Mordan’s response was instantaneous. Information flooded in, scents predominantly, but snatches of image, too.

  Obasi surveyed it all and then nodded. Thank you.

  He was gone in an instant, and Mordan followed. Marsh surfaced just as Aisha slipped from the kat’s back and dragged Tamlin through the bushes surrounding a large piece of rubble.

  “This way.” The child’s whisper reached Marsh’s ears like a summons.

  She slipped past the warriors who had followed, Izmay padding after them like a shadow.

  He’d better be alive, she thought and realized she’d lost Aisha. Deeps-be-damned spawn of...

  Aisha’s voice rang clearly in her head. I’m here, and that’s not nice.

  Marsh cursed herself for forgetting the child’s link to her mind.

  And that’s just rude. She really didn’t need to hear the amusement in Tamlin’s voice.

  Go...do rude things to yourself, she managed, changing the phrase at the last instant. His amusement rang clear in her mind, even if his laughter was muffled in the real world.

  Marsh and Izmay followed the sound, surprised when another voice interrupted them.

  “Coming in from your right. Obasi sent me.”

  Obasi had? For a moment Marsh wondered why, and then she stopped. The druids were healers, and the Grotto had more than its fair share of them. An overwhelming feeling of gratitude engulfed her.

  Maybe they had a chance of stopping Aisha from draining herself after all. Ahead of her, a green glow gleamed through the trees.

  Hurry. Tamlin’s plea came just after she’d noticed it. He’s hurt bad.

  Marsh did not reply, but Izmay gave a short, sharp cry and rushed forward.

  There are three of us, Marsh warned.

  I’ve got you, Tamlin reassured her. Please, hurry.

  Marsh hurried, breaking through the underbrush as Izmay skidded to her knees beside Henri. To give the woman credit, she did her best not to disturb Aisha.

  The child crouched beside the fallen caravan guard. Unable to remove his armor, she’d wiggled her hands through the hole left by the sword. The glow of her efforts seeped through the slash and out from under the edges of the armor.

  Before she could say anything, Obasi’s druid arrived.

  “I’m Udo,” he said by way of introduction, then maneuvered past Aisha so he knelt opposite her. “Let me help.”

  Aisha grimaced. “’Kay,” she replied, but she didn’t take her hands away, and the glow didn’t diminish. “It’s a big hole.”

  A big hole? Marsh wondered where the child had picked up that term for an injury.

  She’s been traveling with soldiers for almost three months. A scornful note crept into Tamlin’s voice. What did you expect her to learn, apart from a really good range of curses and why you don’t argue with your captain?

  She’d learned that? Marsh was surprised. She hadn’t seen any evidence Aisha knew anything of the latter.

  Tamlin snorted. “It’s a work in progress.”

  “It’s a bloody miracle he’s alive.” The healer’s assessment was met with silence and he looked up, suddenly registering Izmay’s presence.

  “Not that that’s a bad thing,” he amended, pulling out a battle knife. “I’m gonna have to cut us a workspace.”

  Aisha nodded, and Tamlin dropped down beside him. “What do you need?”

  Marsh watched as the man told him, and realized none of them were keeping guard. Mordan grumbled a protest. Well, fine. The kat was keeping watch, but she shouldn’t have been the only pair of eyes, and she was probably needed elsewhere.

  Perdemor assists, and the cub.

  Marsh sighed. At least she knew where the two youngsters were. Still... “I’ll keep watch here if you—”

  Between one word and the next, the kat was gone. Marsh breathed a sigh of relief and pulled a sword and buckler from the night. Listening to the dark as if that would give her any more warning, she waited, trying to keep her attention outward instead of with the drama playing out at her feet.

  “The Deeps dammit, child!” Henri‘s dismayed roar startled her, and she glanced down in time to see him slap Aisha’s hands aside. “What in all the hellion’s Deeps have you done to my armor?”

  “Rude!” Aisha exclaimed and slapped him. “I fixed you, you...you ingrate!”

  Henri froze and then bent forward, putting his face a bare inch from the child’s. “What did you call me, girl?”

  Aisha put her forehead against his and settled her hands on her hips. “Ingrate!” she shouted. “And rude and...and NOT FAIR!”

  “I think you owe her an apology.” Izmay’s voice was mild, but the command was unmistakable.

  Henri raised his eyebrows and drew his sword. “I think we have twenty or thirty raiders to kill before they reach the town and not a lot of time to kill them in. Any objections?”

  Aisha let him straighten up and take two steps before she hooked her small foot around his ankle and tripped him.

  “Why, you little...” He rolled over and pushed to his feet.

  The child cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. “Yes?” she challenged, and the stone around Henri’s feet
shifted, sliding up his calves to encase his legs.

  “Hey!” he began, but Aisha didn’t let him get any further.

  “Little what?”

  Izmay began to snicker, and Udo watched in drop-jawed surprise. Marsh almost felt sorry for Henri. She didn’t dwell on that, though. There was no time. Someone had to keep watch while the clowns were at play.

  Tamlin put a stop to it. “We don’t have time for this!”

  “Too darn right, we don’t,” Henri answered, and glared at the little girl. “Let me go.”

  “Say ‘sorry.’”

  “But I’m not.” Aisha raised her hand, and Henri closed his mouth.

  Silence stretched between them for a long moment, during which the stone quietly reached his thighs.

  “Agh! Fine! I am sorry! There. Are you happy?”

  Aisha gave a little skip and danced past him. “Yup,” she replied, leaving the stone exactly where it was.

  “Hey!”

  “Joking!” the little girl sang back, vanishing between two bushes with her brother in hot pursuit.

  The stone slid back to the ground, leaving Henri free, and he glanced at Marsh. “I suppose I’d better go after the little monster.”

  Marsh gestured for him to do exactly that, then caught the look on Udo’s face. “You’ll be needed,” she said, reminding him there was a fight going on somewhere, probably nearby.

  The sudden white of his eyes reminded her that the Grotto’s inhabitants often communicated without words.

  “Now they won’t be killed by mistake,” he said when the white had faded, “but we’d better hurry. Someone has told that child she can wield a sword.”

  That’s not all she can do, Marsh thought but didn’t say. Izmay’s voice stopped her.

  “He didn’t even say hello.”

  “The man’s an idiot,” Marsh reassured her, “and Aisha had just done a number on his armor.”

  “Not Aisha,” Udo reminded them as he threaded his way out of the clearing. He frowned. “This is a good distance from the battle. How did he—”

  “Get here?” Marsh prompted, and Udo nodded.

  “I think Mordan brought him, or one of the warriors he was hunting with.”

  Again, the warrior’s eyes flared white. Marsh waited until he relaxed and his eyes went back to their usual shade of chocolate. “They are safe,” he told her, “and it is thanks to the kat that Henri lives, although he almost died to save her.”

  “She’s never going to live that down,” Marsh muttered.

  “He’s never going to let her,” Izmay agreed.

  “The fight is this way,” Udo told them and stepped around an outcrop of rock.

  17

  Aisha Unleashed

  It wasn’t long before they heard the sounds of battle. Shouts rose over the clash of weapons and rattle of stone. Marsh was not comforted to hear Aisha’s shrill yell mingled with the rest.

  “That child is wreaking some havoc,” were definitely not the words she wanted to hear from Udo. He must have caught the displeasure in her face because he shook his head. “I wouldn’t interrupt her if I were you. She is quite safe.”

  “Quite safe” was not how Marsh would have described Aisha’s position, but the child was holding her own with the assistance of one determined kit and a very faithful pup. The pair kept her flanks clear while she chose a target and stabbed them from the rear.

  From the brief glimpse Marsh caught of her before two raiders broke from the fight to face her, the child was quite the dirty fighter.

  Where did she learn that? she wondered.

  I have no idea, but I’m grateful. Obasi’s voice broke in. Welcome to the fight. We need you. Reinforcements are coming from the town, but we have to hold them here, and we need to prevent them from retreating.

  They did? The need caught Marsh by surprise. I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me why?”

  They have prisoners. If they can get to them, they’ll kill them to stop them from being released.

  All of them? Marsh wanted to know if there were any she should spare. Obasi’s reply put an end to that.

  All.

  It was as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Well, we can’t have that.

  She raised her shield to block an incoming strike and thrust her sword to send one of her opponents darting back. The one she’d blocked reversed his swing and tried again. The other regained his balance and circled back in, looking for an opening.

  To all the Deeps with this! she thought, parrying another attack and pushing one opponent back while keeping a wary eye on the one trying to find a way through her defenses. I need to take these guys down and fast.

  Flame flashed to her right, and she watched as Izmay danced back, her blade held in her shield hand as she threw a second ball of fire. Marsh wasn’t the only one who had magic, and the shadow mage was trying something new.

  Marsh hoped she didn’t overdo it.

  How long do we have to hold them? she asked, not knowing if Obasi could hear her.

  I won’t know until help arrives, he replied, sounding breathless.

  Well, that wasn’t any good.

  Marsh reached for the lightning hiding in the shadows and was surprised to hear a rumble of thunder. Cool air swirled around them.

  “Great!” Henri cursed. “See what you arschlochs have made us do? Now we’re gonna get wet.”

  “Arschlochs!” Aisha shouted with glee.

  “Hey! You watch your language!” he scolded, and Aisha’s rebellious retort rang across the battlefield.

  “Arschloch!” It was hard to tell if the child was addressing Henri or the man she’d just stabbed through the thigh.

  Her victim fell screaming, and Perdemor ended his cries as Aisha looked for her next target.

  I’m going to murder whoever gave her the idea she could fight, Marsh swore, and then I’m gonna bring them back and kill them all over again!

  There was nothing she could do, however, as her two opponents closed, obscuring her view of the child. One caught the direction of her gaze. “Oh, she’s yours, is she? I’ll try to remember that when...”

  That was as far as he got. Marsh called the lightning. On my opponents! she demanded. My opponents now. Burn them to the ground!

  Aisha had moved on by the time the men fell, but Marsh still couldn’t reach her. She gave a shriek of frustration, attacking the next man before he had time to turn around and choosing her next opponent before the first had hit the ground.

  Aisha, in the meantime, was moving closer. “I’m coming!” the child cried, and Marsh wondered why she seemed to think Marsh needed her.

  Because you called her. Tamlin’s voice was an exasperated grumble in her head. Why, are you saying you don’t?

  Did she? Marsh pivoted, taking a mental snapshot of the area around her. She caught an overhanded blow on her shield and sent a shadow dart lancing into the man’s chest as an afterthought. Sure, she’d attracted the attention of opponents from four different directions, but that didn’t mean...

  The hilt of a sword caught her squarely in the back of the head, and light flashed before her eyes. She dropped to her knees.

  Idiot! Tamlin’s reproach was somehow more offensive than the idea that Henri was going to laugh his ass off about this. Well, at least he could call the kat’s rescue even, or was it that he’d get to enjoy the fact that both of them owed him more?

  Marsh hit the ground and rolled, fetching up against a pair of boots and coming to halt on her back. There wasn’t a hope in the Deeps that she was going to avoid the fist descending toward her face. She was ridiculously relieved when a large form leapt over her, a pair of bloodied jaws wrapping themselves around the wrist above it and tearing fist, arm, and attacker sideways. That didn’t put her in the clear, though.

  She rolled to one side to avoid a boot to the head, the movement making the world blur amidst the flashes of black and white. Now that she thought about it, she could do with some of
Aisha’s healing herself.

  Can you call a shield?

  A shield? she thought blurrily. What a good idea, which didn’t make it any easier to accomplish, as she discovered when she tried.

  Nausea boiled in her gut, and her head felt strangely heavy. The shadows rippled and shivered out of her grasp, and she kept losing sight of the battlefield.

  She was glad most of the fighters were ignoring her because she was flat on her back. She wondered how long that would last.

  Master Envermet swore inside her head. Hang on. I’m coming.

  Izmay swore from somewhere outside her head, and Marsh tried to find her. It was too hard. The world refused to come into focus, and every time she moved her head, pain lanced through her skull, igniting a churn of nausea in her gut.

  “I’m here,” Aisha announced, leaping over her prone form. “I’ll shield.”

  Before Marsh could tell her not to, the child had released the stone from her hands and called more from the earth, enclosing them in a dome of rock. “See?” she asked Marsh, beaming happily. “All safe. Now, where do you hurt?”

  She sounded so much like one of the healers that Marsh had to smile. “Head,” she managed, and only just succeeded in rolling to face the opposite way before she was thoroughly and hideously sick.

  “Oh, by the Deeps!”

  “Idiot,” Aisha told her in amiable tones and laid a palm against the back of Marsh’s head. “Hold still.”

  “Aysh, are you sure?”

  “Yup,” the little girl confirmed, sending warmth and relief seeping through Marsh’s skull.

  Marsh felt the sickening churn of her stomach subside and breathed a sigh of relief. She rolled into a crouch and patted the underside of the dome. “We need to get out of here,” she told the child, and Aisha shook her head.

  “Nope. Master Envermet says to stay here.”

  “Uh-huh, and do you always do what Master Envermet tells you to?”

  Aisha’s eyes grew very round. “Yeees.”