by Amy Hopkins
Marcus watched his retreating back. “You don't think… He's not going straight to the Temple, is he?”
Julianne nodded slowly. “You know, I think he is. Idiot.”
“You disapprove?” Marcus sounded surprised.
Julianne shrugged. “I didn't say he couldn't stop to sleep and eat first. If he wants to martyr himself, that's fine, as long as he doesn't blame me when he's chewing on a remnant’s leg because he was too damned stupid take something to eat.”
Marcus laughed and shook his head. “You're the embodiment of pragmatism, Jules. The guy’s off on an epic quest for redemption, and you've already made him a cannibal.”
Julianne rolled her shoulders. The spell had taken a lot out of her. “Come on; let’s go in.”
Marcus trailed behind her, locking up the door to the small shed. “You think any of the others you let go will turn up at the Temple?”
Julianne shook her head. “I don't even think he will. For a guy so ready to take up arms against a village for his own gain, I'm surprised he even bothered taking his shoes off.” She shrugged. “I hope he makes it, though.”
Marcus wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You know August took their worst parts and made them all they could think of. They weren't good people, but they weren't all bad, either. I think you'll have more than one of them show up. It might just take some time.”
Turning in his arms, Julianne gave Marcus a brilliant smile. “You do know how to make a girl feel better, don't you?”
He winked. “I could make you feel a lot of things, given the chance.”
“You horny bastard.” Julianne slapped his shoulder, but the twinkle in her eyes suggested she didn't mind his teasing. “It's all you men ever think of.”
“Hey, you don't know that!”
She raised an eyebrow. “Did you know that your shields drop when you sleep?”
Marcus's jaw dropped, and he blushed a shade of vivid scarlet. “Ahh. Fuck.”
“That pretty much sums it up.” Julianne gave him a wink of her own. Then she wriggled out of his arms and strode off towards Annie's, swaying her hips just a little more than usual as she left.
“Damned if I haven't fallen for the most incredible woman in the world.” Only the wind heard Marcus's words, snatching them away before they could reach human ears.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Julianne spent most of the day in bed, sleeping off a monstrous headache. All magic had energy requirements and a permanent one like those she had cast on the insurgents didn't come cheap. Even limiting herself to one of them every few days was exhausting, though she could swear the incredible effort was getting easier each time.
When Annie knocked on the door with a cup of hot broth, the shadows were beginning to lengthen. “You missed lunch,” was all she said.
“Thanks, Annie.” Julianne yanked at her dress to straighten it, then patted her hair. “I'll come downstairs to drink it.”
Annie nodded. “Seems you might sleep better tonight if you do.”
Her advice was always sound, and delivered in a flat voice that brooked no argument. Julianne shook off the lingering sleepiness and headed down behind the woman who had taken Julianne and her friends in.
Annie was a strong woman, not prone to complaining. She did seem to appreciate having helpers around to get her small farm running again, though. When Francis and Harlon were taken by the New Dawn, she had struggled to keep up with the work.
Now, she was back to running the kitchen and her small vegetable garden. The boys had rounded up most of the pigs. They found them wandering three fields over after they had broken down a fence. The family cow had returned, milk dried up but otherwise healthy.
“I was fixing to make a potato dish, but I don't got any butter for the roux.” Annie let the comment hang, too stubborn to ask for what she needed.
“I could do with a walk,” Julianne said with a smile. “I’ll see if old Jessop can spare us some. I saw his wife washing out a churn yesterday. What's her name again?”
Annie nodded. “That'd be Tessa. I'd be most grateful for that, Julianne.”
The old woman stiffened when Julianne wrapped her in a hug, then briskly squeezed her back.
“It's no bother. I already feel better for being up and about.” Julianne stretched again and realized it was the truth.
“First time you went to visit those louts, you were knocked out cold for two days. You're getting better at whatever you're doing, mark my words.”
Julianne grinned. “I am. Since my mentor died, I haven't pushed myself as hard as I should. I'm getting lazy in my old age!”
Annie snorted and tossed Julianne her robe. “You be back before dark, now. The air is starting to hold a chill, and I don't want you catching cold.”
“Yes, Mother,” Julianne shot back. She flinched when Annie flicked a tea towel at her.
“Enough of that sass, young ‘un.”
Julianne tumbled out of the door before Annie could take another shot. Though she had never been on the end of a serious attack, she had heard Bastian yelp as the taut fabric caught him in the ass one day after he had tracked mud inside.
She couldn't blame Annie. He had made an awful mess.
"Julianne!"
She turned to see Bastian coming up the road. He waved her down, letting her know he needed to speak to her.
"Hi, Bastian. Has something happened?"
"Well, yes. Oh, no, nothing bad," Bastian said, hurrying to reassure Julianne when her face fell. "Julianne, did you know that Francis had a gift for physical magic?"
Julian started. "No, I didn't. Did he tell you that?"
"I don't think he knew himself,” Bastian replied. “I was trying to teach him to shield. You know how he is—he carries that anger everywhere he goes. He was dwelling on what the New Dawn did and almost set his damn hand on fire.” Bastian eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Hell.” Julianne rubbed her face. “How are we going to teach a physical mage? It's bad enough that half the town seems to have an innate talent for some kind of nature magic. All this untapped magic, going to waste…”
Bastian bit his lip. “Look, this might be a dumb idea, but what would you think about setting up a school here? Like Adrien’s, only—you know—not run by a giant asshole and with teachers from all the magical fields.”
Julianne took a deep breath. “Bastian, I know you want to help, but right now—”
“I don't mean now! I know we have too much to do, and it's dangerous here while those nutters are wandering around. But… one day?”
Julianne touched his mind, surprised to see how passionate he felt about the idea. She hadn't pegged Bastian for a teacher, but it seemed his recent experiences had opened him to the possibility.
Julianne nodded. “Maybe. It would take a lot of work to set up, but maybe we could do… well, something.”
He grinned. “Thank you, Master. When the time comes, I'll do anything you need me to. I really want to help.”
Julianne was still mulling over that when she knocked on farmer Jessop’s door. His wife, Tessa, called out from the back of the house. “You’ll have to let yourself in!”
Julianne pushed the door open and made her way down the hall. It opened into a big kitchen, where Tessa was elbow deep in a giant pot of violet liquid.
“Sorry. May came home so excited about the festival, she couldn't stop squealing. I told her I'd make her a new dress for it; I'd been meaning to anyway. Do you know that girl has grown four inches since last summer? Four inches!” Tessa shook her head in disbelief. “So, I said to her, if I dyed the fabric, she'd need to feed the animals and milk the cow. A fair deal, don't you think?”
Julianne nodded, still trying to get her head around the rapid-fire conversation. “What festival?” was all she could come up with.
“Why, the festival of magic, of course! Danil told us all about it. We don't celebrate that kind of thing around here, but it seems like the thing to do after what you all did
for us. My own dress won't be nearly as fancy, but it's May’s first time at anything like this.” Tessa lifted the soaking fabric and squeezed it, working the dye into the weave. “I don’t want her feeling like a wallflower, not that that girl could ever pass for one.”
“Danil?” Julianne narrowed her eyes. “Danil hasn't told me a damn thing about a festival.”
Tessa opened her eyes wide. “After what he said about you being guest of honor, I should have known it was a surprise!” Realizing she had likely given away another secret, she slapped a hand over her mouth.
Violet droplets splattered her face, and the white apron that covered her dress. “Oh, now I've gone and done it. What a mess, and me trying to catch up with everything before the… well.” She heaved a dramatic sigh.
Julianne pressed a hand to her own mouth to smother a smile. A perfect purple hand print covered Tessa’s lips. “You might want to wash that off before it stains.”
Julianne gestured to the mark and Tessa started scrubbing at it with her apron. “Bitch strike me; there's a reason I try to stay out in the fields.”
The door slammed open and May tumbled in, her long brown hair tousled by the wind outside. Seeing Julianne, she immediately straightened, patted her hair and dropped into a small curtsy, suddenly looking much older than her twelve years.
“Good day, Master Julianne.” May turned to her mother. “Mam! What have you done to your face? No, stop rubbing, you're making it worse.” She darted to the sink and grabbed a cloth, bringing it back to dab at Tessa’s face.
Tessa tolerated her daughter’s attention patiently, only raising one eyebrow to Julianne as May darted back to rinse the cloth. “I swear, child, sometimes I wonder if you're the mother in this relationship.”
“Don't be silly, Mam. Now, have you offered Miss Julianne something to drink?”
Remembering her original reason for coming by, Julianne shook her head quickly. “Nothing to drink, thank you. I actually came by to see if you had some butter I could buy.”
“Sure, we do!” Tessa went to wipe her hands on her apron, but May grabbed her arm. “I won’t be taking your money, though. Think of it as a peace offering, so Danil doesn’t come storming over here when he finds out I ran my mouth, ok?”
“That sounds fair,” Julianne answered, trying to keep a straight face.
“I'll get it, Mam,” May said. “You finish up, then wash your hands, yeah?”
Tessa grinned at her daughter. “Fine.” May disappeared through the back door.
“Really, I don't think it would have stayed quiet for long,” Julianne said. She tapped her head to remind Tessa why.
The woman's eyes lit up in understanding as May ran in, a small pat of butter wrapped in oiled cloth. “Here you go. Could you tell Danil the thing I said about the thing is ok, and when the other thing is done I'll let him know?”
Julianne tried her best to keep a straight face. “The thing and the thing, then the other thing. Right.”
She made her farewells and hurried back to Annie's, hoping Danil would finish his classes soon and get back. She had more than a few words to say to him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Artemis slammed into Julianne's shield again, his strike weak but irritating nonetheless. Her concentration was torn between blocking him, and attending the other tasks he had set her.
One part of her mind controlled May, moving the girl’s body against her will in the slow poses of sword practice. Julianne had learned the sequences during her time with the Arcadian soldiers, and Artemis insisted they would be perfect due to the concentration required.
Beside May, a willowy tree stood tall in the middle of the room. It swayed as flowers blossomed, wilted and fell, disappearing before they hit the ground. To further complicate the illusion, a small dragon perched in the branches, occasionally rubbing its maw on the bark or flapping its wings for balance.
Julianne herself stood in the center of the school room, eyes white and hands outstretched. To any onlooker, she was dressed as a queen. Her normally brown hair was piled high in blonde tresses, offset by a crown that sparkled in a light that didn't actually exist.
Her robes were speckled with diamonds, the weight of her train held by Thom, a youngster from the village who had volunteered for Artemis’s experiment. No one could see the sweat that beaded on Julianne's forehead or trailed down her back between her shoulder blades.
It was that drop, inching slowly down her skin and tickling her senses, that finally broke her concentration. The dragon and the tree flickered and vanished, and May stumbled, coming to a stop in her movements. Julianne’s hair faded back to brown, and the glamorous dress dissolved, leaving her in the simple linens she always wore.
Thom’s hand jerked, suddenly devoid of a weight that was never real, as much as he believed it was.
“Concentration!” Artemis barked. “You didn't run out of power, you ran out of concentration!”
Julianne glared at him. “Really? You try holding three totally different spells for twenty minutes without breaking. Hell, even do it without the sweltering heat.” She fanned herself and puffed air onto her face.
Artemis snorted. “You weren't concentrating. Your shield dropped four minutes in! It's the middle of the bastard fall, how hot do you think it's going to be?”
Julianne slammed her shields up and immediately, her skin chilled. She touched her head, and frowned. “Why am I sweating?” she asked. “Mental magic can only create illusions, so why is my body reacting?”
“Basal temperature. You let your brain believe it was hot, and your physiology changed as a result.”
Julianne sighed. “Artemis, you know as well as I do. Mental magic doesn't—can't—have a physical effect.”
“I'm not disputing that, although I could, because it's not entirely correct, but in this case your theory does apply. You see, the physiological basis for body temperature…” Artemis slipped into a vacant gaze, his mouth working silently.
Julianne didn't have the energy to slip into his mind. She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes and waited until he blinked before she spoke. “Out loud, please.”
“Wasn't I already… oh. I did it again, didn't I?”
Julianne nodded patiently. Artemis sometimes dropped so far into his thoughts, he completely forgot what was going on around him.
“The human body is a strange thing. If you slice your hand, there is a physical reaction as well as a physiological one. The physical is when the skin opens, and the vessels begin to leak. Then, the body responds to the perceived damage. It heals it, makes it hurt so that you don't injure it further. Yes?”
“So… temperature is more like the healing than the cut?” Julianne tried to wrap her tired mind around the theory.
“Oh, no, it's an entirely subjective state of being. Huh. I suppose the cut is, too. If you can convince your body there is no cut, will it heal at all?”
“Artemis!” Julianne snapped, seeing where this was going. “You are not, absolutely not to run human experiments to find out.”
“Oh? Oh. I suppose that would be rather dangerous. Not even a little one?”
“If you even think about it, you'll have to spend a week trying to figure out whether I've strung you up by your toenails or you just think I did. I can guarantee you won't like the answer.”
Julianne caught his eyes and didn't let him look away until he nodded. Then, his forlorn expression dropped away.
“You could run the experiment on—” he began.
“Not a chance in hell, old timer. Not even the New Dawn deserve to be treated like medical experiments.” Julianne held her hand up to ward off further argument.
Diverting Artemis from one of his projects was like trying to move a mountain. He simply couldn't grasp the ethical problems with his ideas. As far as he was concerned, if his subject said yes, there was no reason not to.
“Promise me you'll drop this one, Art?” Julianne said, softening. “For me.”
He grumb
led, but eventually nodded. “Fine. But I want you to keep practicing as we did today. And focus on keeping your shield up, yes?”
Julianne nodded. “Fair enough.” She knew the practice would make her stronger, though how much, she couldn't know. “Artemis, is there a limit to the power someone could use? I mean, if I do this every day for the next year, will I reach a threshold or just keep getting stronger?”
Artemis shrugged. “The weaker vessels do tend to. I don’t know if it will be different in your case.”
Julianne narrowed her eyes, wondering if he was telling the truth. She nudged his shield, but it was solid. She wondered if she could force her way past it, but it was more of a fleeting thought and she didn’t try.
“Time’s up, anyway,” she said instead. “I have to run. Danil is planning some kind of bloody festival, I need to shut it down before he gets people too excited about it.”
“Shut it down?”
Julianne whirled to see Danil standing in the doorway of the small cottage they had turned into the magic school.
“Why would you need to do that?" he asked. “Jules, these people need something to liven them up, put a firecracker under their asses. It’s not enough to tell them magic is needed, we need to show them what it can do.”
Julianne pursed her lips. “You’re planning to put on some kind of display?" she asked.
He grinned. “It is, after all, what I do best! Look, it won’t just be about magic. The men training under Marcus are itching to show off their new skills, and the whole town wants to show you how grateful they are for what you did.”
“What we did,” Julianne corrected him.
“No, Jules. You led this expedition. You’re the one they look up to around here.”
“Well, I can see why they wouldn't hold you in any kind of esteem,” Julianne joked. “But Danil, our food supplies are still low, and everyone is working half to death to prepare for winter. Are you sure you want to load them up with preparations for a frivolous… whatever this is?”