Gryphon (Rise of the Mages Book 2)

by Brian W. Foster

  “Not at all.” Her voice dripped honey. “Why would there be?”

  He shrugged. “While you’re on the way to Escon, I need you to do something you’ve been avoiding.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Part of what convinced me to send you instead of going myself is that you are a mage. You can defend yourself,” he said. “But you haven’t learned to use your ability yet. In my audience chamber, you told me you can learn. I need you to follow through with that. Have Tasia and Lainey teach you.”

  So he wanted her to fight. Was she to be a servant or a soldier? He should make up his mind.

  “Anything else?” she said.

  Because it wasn’t like she already had enough to do. Learn to be a mage. Convince the queen not to execute all of them. Save the kingdom from invasion.

  “Are you sure there’s nothing bothering you? This mission is important. Vierna needs it.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He frowned. “You don’t seem like it. It’s times like this I really wish your mother—”

  “How dare you mention her!” Her nostrils flared. “How dare you!”

  “Ash—”

  “For years, I begged you to tell me of her death. Begged you!”

  He slammed his palm on his desk. “Ashley Abigail Asher! You do not speak to your lord father like—”

  “No! You don’t get to be angry this time. You told peasants more about her than you’d ever told me. Peasants!”

  “I had to.” His tone dropped, pleading. “They deserved—”

  “If not for you, I’d have grown up with a mother.” She clenched her dress to keep from balling her hands into fists. “It’s. All. Your. Fault.”

  He recoiled, stricken.

  “You ruined my life.” She stormed from the office, slamming the door after her.

  “Ashley …”

  Anything else he may have said didn’t reach her ears.

  * * *

  Brant stood, once again, in front of General Flynn’s desk.

  Waiting. And worrying.

  Five minutes after the meeting with the duke had ended, General Flynn had told Brant exactly who would go on the mission. So much for the whole “choose your team” thing.”

  Not that Brant objected to the choices. He’d worked with Sergeant Stokes and Private Raleigh and respected their abilities. But there was one addition to the team, and General Flynn wasn’t going to like it.

  Ivie.

  The general finally looked up from the endless stack of papers that always occupied his desk. “Mission preparation. Report.”

  “Personnel and supplies squared away and ready to leave, sir.”

  “Very well. Good luck and may the Holy One bless your travels. Dismissed.”

  Brant swallowed hard. He could just leave. Not mention the change he made. But that was the coward’s way out. “I also, uh, added one other, uh, member to the team, sir.”

  General Flynn cocked his head to the side. “I see. Who?”

  “The girl who’s been staying with me, sir. Ivie.”

  “You need a maid for this mission?” The general shook his head. “Give a peasant a title, and all of a sudden, he can’t think anymore. Needs chilled wine with every meal.”

  “With respect, sir, it’s not that.”

  “Oh, I know exactly what it is, but you can get what you need from plenty of sources on the road.” General Flynn looked disappointed in him. “If you can’t find willing barmaids, there are girls who accept coin. You’ll have enough money for that.”

  “Sir, it’s important that—”

  “Save yourself the effort, soldier. She stays behind.”

  Brant winced. Since he couldn’t just let an enemy mage go free, his only options were to turn her in, which would lead to her execution, or take her with him. He had to change the general’s mind. “Sir, but—”

  “I probably didn’t make myself clear. That was an order.”

  Brant couldn’t go against a command, but he couldn’t just let Ivie die without putting up a fight. “Permission to speak freely, sir.”

  General Flynn glared at him. Brant met his eyes and refused to look away.

  “Fine,” the general said. “Speak.”

  Brant hesitated. Up to that point, he’d not done anything final regarding Ivie. He hadn’t outright lied about her. Sure, he’d be reprimanded for not telling anyone she was a mage, but he wouldn’t lose more than privileges and respect if he claimed he was trying to get information from her himself before turning her over.

  He’d be committing treason, though, if he deliberately portrayed her as only a maid to the general.

  “Well? Are you going to say something?”

  Brant grimaced. He’d taken Ivie in. Sheltered her. Cared for her. Fed her. Accepted responsibility for her. “The maid is not just a bit of fun, sir, and her purpose on the mission would not be to serve chilled wine. She’s from Dastanar. Though she knows nothing about the army or the attacks, she’s been a … servant to lords and such. Her knowledge will help us.”

  The general eyed him up and down. “No.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I must insist. She is that important.”

  “Soldier, you’re already on thin ice. You royally screwed up the only mission you went on for me. If you’re going to be an officer—”

  “Exactly, sir! An officer. One who makes his own decisions. You won’t be with me on this mission. If you can’t trust me when I tell you this girl is important, then how can you trust me to go at all?” Brant’s heart pounded. Besides interrupting his commanding officer, he’d given excellent reason to be removed from command.

  Actually, forget just being removed from command, he could be hanged for insubordination.

  “She’s from Dastanar,” the general said. “What loyalty does she have to Bermau? Or you, for that matter? She’ll betray you or run at her first opportunity.”

  “Sir, I know you think I’m incompetent, but do you think the same of Sergeant Stokes? Or Private Raleigh? Will either of them let her either escape or betray us?”

  “Point. But if she steps one foot wrong ...”

  “If she disobeys me in even the slightest way, sir,” Brant said. “I’ll kill her myself.”

  6.

  Dylan stared at the food on his plate with bleary eyes.

  He pushed runny eggs away from his roll, sighed, and moved them back. His stomach roiled. Tossing and turning in his bed had not made for a pleasant night.

  As much as he tried to forget the battle for Asherton and all the men he’d killed, nightmares still invaded his sleep. He pushed those thoughts aside. Better to dwell on happier thoughts. Or at least, on his plans.

  Events moved too fast. Most probably, the duke would ask him to leave within the week. Surely no more than two. And Dylan hadn’t decided what to do about Mari.

  He liked her. Really liked her. A lot a lot. They got along great. Just before the battle, they’d spent time together in a deserted corner of a garden. There’d been lips and hands under clothing and warm skin and …

  His blood warmed at the memory.

  But that was the problem. He was acting like Xan, allowing feelings to affect his actions.

  Dylan sighed. Though he mentioned marriage in passing, he wasn’t sure. With the danger from his being a mage and from Truna’s attack seemingly past, he should be concentrating on building his father’s business. He’d received the house concession on dye in Asherton. A major win, but he could still do more to expand his family’s interests.

  A strategic alliance with one of the leading trade families in the city would be a huge asset, and both the patriarch of the most important garment merchant and the head of the transport guild had reached out to him, casually hinting about daughters who were the right age.

  Okay, so he’d never met those girls and had no idea if he’d find either of them attractive. Or even like them. Or be compatible in any way. He might retch at the very sight of either.

&
nbsp; But none of that mattered.

  His duty to his family demanded he make smart choices. His ambition demanded he make smart choices. Marrying a farm girl, no matter how wealthy her family, was not a smart choice.

  He should make a clean break from Mari. Tell her they could no longer see each other.

  On the other hand, why make her miserable sooner than he had to? She probably assumed he’d be inviting her to go with him to Eagleton, meaning that not doing so would disappoint her terribly. What would it hurt to bring her along for the companionship? Very chaste, non-romantic companionship.

  Better than her just sitting around the castle while Lady Ashley went to Escon.

  That was a good compromise. He’d ask her to accompany him on his mission, but make it clear to her, somehow, that there were no romantic intentions behind the request. Take a gigantic step back from the relationship.

  Yes. He’d decided. Definitely the best course of action.

  Dylan pushed away his plate and stood. No time like the present. But how, exactly, did he go about telling her his decision without things getting … awkward?

  He sat back down. Not a single thought occurred to him. His food, uneaten, grew cold.

  Finally, he determined the only thing he could do was just tell her the truth. Though he dreaded hurting her, he owed her that much.

  With the decision made, he stood and marched from the kitchen, and several minutes later found him outside her quarters, knocking.

  “Dylan!” she said.

  She was giddy, practically bouncing on her toes. The last time he’d seen her that excited was when Lady Ashley had invited her to come to Asherton. And an open bag rested on a table. Piles of her clothes surrounded it.

  “You’re packing already?” Dylan frowned. He’d yet to invite her. Awfully presumptuous of her.

  “I’m going to Escon!” She squealed. “Can you believe it?”

  “Uh …”

  “Less than two weeks ago,” she said, “I was on a farm, never having been further than a day’s ride from home. Now, I’m in Asherton, staying in the duke’s castle. And now I’m to journey with the niskma to the capital. I may get to meet the queen!”

  “Wow,” he said. “That’s, uh, good. Yes, good for you.”

  She stared at him, and he realized he was frowning.

  “Are you okay?” she said.

  “I’m good … great.” He tried to smile and hoped it didn’t come across as forced.

  “Here I am going on and on about my big news,” she said, “when you’re the one who came to me. Did you need something?”

  Yes, to ask her to come with him on his boring trip to Eagleton. For no good reason. And to tell her all they’d ever be was friends.

  “No. Just saying hi. I won’t keep you.” Dylan tried to muster enthusiasm in his voice “Have a great trip.” He spun and marched off without waiting for a reply.

  Her leaving really was for the best. Better than he could have hoped, actually. The next time he saw her, he’d be engaged to someone else, and it wouldn’t be his fault he couldn’t wait for her. They’d just gone in different directions.

  Much better than some big, emotional scene and breakup. Just let things die. Definitely for the best.

  Why, then, did he feel so awful?

  7.

  Dylan scooted around a corner.

  The two servants who’d been discussing how many more of Lady Ashley’s trunks they had left to load probably looked after him like he’d lost his mind, but he didn’t care. He had to get out of earshot. Fast.

  But running away wouldn’t help. Talk of the niskma’s departure, and thus Mari’s, was on every tongue. He couldn’t escape everyone.

  And unfortunately, his dashing about got him lost. After a quarter hour of bends and turns, he ended up in a courtyard … the exact courtyard, in fact, where everyone was getting ready for Lady Ashley’s big send off.

  Great.

  A platoon of soldiers waited, seated with their backs against the wall. Servants scurried about loading wagons with supplies and lashing them down.

  He spun to retreat … and almost plowed into Lainey.

  “Dylan! Came to say goodbye?”

  “Uh …” One of his best friends was about to leave for a long and dangerous journey, and he’d not even given a thought to seeing her off. What was wrong with him? “Yeah. You know I wouldn’t let you go without it.”

  She frowned, her face more sad than angry. “Can’t say the same for Brant. Word is he’s already gone.”

  “Are you okay?” he said.

  “Sure.”

  “That was convincing.”

  She flashed a subdued smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “I’ll be fine. It’s just … will the four of us ever be together again? We’re scattering in different directions, each facing danger. We don’t even know if Xan …” Her voice choked.

  Movement on the opposite side of the courtyard attracted his attention. Tasia. With her and Lainey already gathered, Mari surely wasn’t far behind.

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” he said. “It’s Xan. Not only is he super smart, but he’s ridiculously powerful.”

  “He has to be okay.” She shuddered. “I treated him so awful.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone enter the courtyard from the northwest. His heart quickened, and he glanced that direction. Just a servant.

  Dylan was relieved. “Believe me, he understands what you were going through. The two of you will be fine.”

  “You think?”

  “I know.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “You’re a good friend.”

  Dylan hid a wince. That was the last thing he was. He’d barely thought about Lainey since they’d arrived in Eagleton. “Hey, take care of yourself. I’ll see you soon?”

  “That’s a plan.” She pointed behind him. “Oh look, there’s Mari. I’m sure you’re a lot more eager to see her than me.”

  “Uh …” His chest tightened. He grasped the medallion hanging from his neck.

  “Dylan, what’s wrong?”

  His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

  Lainey was right. He was eager to see Mari. Okay, maybe anxious was the more appropriate description, but he wanted to see her. It wasn’t like he’d really ended up in the very courtyard where she would be by complete accident.

  He had no idea where he stood with her, and she had no idea where his head was. They couldn’t part that way. As much as he didn’t want to go through the process of straightening everything out, he had to.

  “Nothing,” he said. “I just … I’m not sure what to say.”

  Lainey pulled him tight for a hug. “You’ll figure it out. I have faith in you.”

  “Yeah,” he said, withdrawing from her embrace. “I … well, better get to it …”

  With the enthusiasm of a man going to the gallows, he trudged to Mari. “Hi.”

  “Hi, yourself.” She glanced back toward the entrance to the courtyard and the secluded corridor beyond.

  Dylan grimaced. She was expecting a more private goodbye. Time for him to break the news to her.

  “Well, I guess this is it,” he said. “I enjoyed meeting you. Hopefully, we’ll see each other again.”

  There. One did not tell a potential mate that one enjoyed having made an acquaintance. Surely, his intent was clear.

  “Of course we’ll see each other again, silly, when we’re both back here.” Her face brightened. “Have you ever been to Escon? I hear it’s simply divine. The best shops, inns, places to eat. And balls. And I hear Queen Anna is simply lovely.”

  “I’ve … uh, never been. I guess I’ve heard it’s nice?”

  She hadn’t understood his intent. Not at all.

  “Is everything all right?” she said.

  “Yeah, fine.” His eyes searched the courtyard for anything to focus on besides her. He couldn’t look at her. And he certainly couldn’t tell her he wanted nothing more to do with her. “Just … fine. I gues
s … bye.”

  She smiled and stuck out her lips, but he couldn’t kiss her. It wouldn’t be right. He grabbed her in a quick embrace and patted her on the back before letting go.

  “What was that?” Mari looked at him like he was a strange coin that had turned up in her purse with no idea how it got there.

  “A goodbye hug?”

  “Okay … and you’re sure everything’s all right?” she said.

  He’d already missed one opening to tell her his feelings, and she was giving him another. All he had to do was spit it out. “It’s just … a lot of stuff on my mind, you know. Xan. Everything.” His heart pounded.

  Blasted, rads-infested coward!

  “If you’re sure …”

  He hesitated. As much as he didn’t want to hurt her, she deserved the truth.

  “Actually, I’m not,” he said. “I … I think we should g-go our separate ways.”

  “You don’t mean that … that …” She covered her mouth with her hand.

  “I’m so, so sorry, but I do.” His voice choked.

  “Okay,” she said, “I guess this really is goodbye, then.”

  “Yeah … well, see you.” No other words came to mind. He pivoted and walked off before he could embarrass himself further.

  Overall, though, that had gone much better than he’d expected. No tears. He exited the courtyard and braced himself against a wall. Safe.

  A hand caught his elbow. He spun, expecting Mari.

  Instead, Tasia stood there. “Are you daft?”

  “Huh?”

  “Do you understand how complicated the world is becoming?” Tasia said. “There’s no guarantee you’ll ever see her again. Ever! A calamity could befall us. War could separate you. The queen might have her executed just for knowing Ashley, Lainey, and me. And you’re going to let Mari go?”

  “Ending it was for the best.”

  Tasia scowled. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

  “She’ll be fine, and I’ve more important things to do with my time than worrying after a … after her.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “Excuse me?” Dylan said.

  “You heard me. You are an idiot.”