Taren had been insistent on maintaining the rapid pace, and Mira knew his urgent desire to rescue Sianna was more than simply a dutiful citizen’s obligation to his liege.
He’s clearly got feelings for her. At first, she probably wouldn’t have noticed, had it not been for Ferret’s teasing him. But now it was apparent in the frequency with which he checked his locator stone and the consistently grave expression on his face. Assuming their rescue attempt succeeded, Mira hoped he didn’t get hurt as a result of his feelings for the queen. Sianna would almost certainly marry someone of her own station, regardless of her feelings on the matter. She had a kingdom to secure, and a marriage was a potent tool to ensure that she could, by sealing an alliance. Creel had mentioned as much at some point during their earlier travels.
Taren’s interest in Sianna disappointed Mira somehow, though she could not say exactly why. She cared for Taren, but not in a romantic fashion. He was eight years her junior, and she had a duty to perform. Charge or even friend seemed too slight a term to describe their relationship. Perhaps she thought of him as a younger brother.
She could almost hear Brother Cerador’s stern admonishment over her frivolous thoughts: “Focus on the task at hand, Miralei. The danger is great, and a lapse in concentration could prove fatal.”
Mira took a sip of the last of the water from her skin, but it was foul tasting, so she poured it out. Fortunately, she could hear the sound of running water in the darkness, somewhere ahead and off to her right. She led her horse over and took the reins of Taren’s mount.
“I’m going to water the horses,” she said.
“Thanks, Mira. We’ll rest here a couple hours before we move on the camp.” Taren took out his locator stone and held it out in his palm as he’d done every few hours for the past three days. The stone glowed brightly now, pointing straight ahead at the army encampment. Mira didn’t need him to tell her that Sianna was being held in the camp, judging from the direction indicated and intensity of the stone’s glow.
Heavy footsteps sounded behind them, and Ferret finally caught up with them. She slowed to a stop then stood gazing at the illuminated camp ahead, completely unwinded after having run for hours. No breath passed her lips—the only sounds she made were the faint machine noises of cogs turning within her metal body. She couldn’t run as fast as the horses at a full gallop, but the animals couldn’t sustain such a pace for long, so Ferret was able to at least keep them in sight at her slower pace.
“How are you faring, Ferret?” Taren walked over to the girl and placed his hands on her shoulders, looking into her glowing amethyst eyes, likely studying her with his second sight.
“Feeling fine, though I’m ready for something more interesting than running hours on end. It’s damn boring.”
Mira smiled. “Not quite as boring when you’re trying to keep from falling out of the saddle at such a pace.”
“I apologize for the fast pace,” Taren said to both of them. “I worry about Sianna and don’t know how much longer she’ll be there.”
“We understand completely.” Ferret patted his cheek, and Mira thought the girl would have had a smirk on her face if she could’ve.
“Remind me to use my key again, Ferret,” Taren said after a moment, a faintly bashful look on his face. “It seems running continuously depletes your energy reserves much more rapidly, which makes sense. You’ll be fine for now, I think, but I’ll recharge you all the same before we move on the camp.”
Mira collected Taren’s water skin and led the two horses in search of the stream while Taren sat down to rest. She found the stream after about fifty paces of walking through the waist-high grass, although the horses ended up being the ones leading her to the water. The animals gratefully dipped their muzzles in the stream and drank deeply. She knelt and splashed water over her head and onto her face. The water was cold but refreshing. After drinking deeply herself and refilling the skins, she returned to the others with the horses, who wanted nothing more than to graze now that they’d drunk their fill.
Taren was leaning against a stunted tree, munching on some of their provisions. He thanked her when she handed his water skin over and took a long drink. Ferret sat quietly in the long grass beside him.
Mira hitched the horses’ reins to a tree branch where they would have plenty of grass to graze on, then she settled down wearily on the other side of Taren. She took out some of the salted meat and dried fruit and nuts from her pack. She wasn’t particularly hungry but knew she needed to replenish her energy.
“So we wait a couple hours, and then what’s our plan?” Ferret asked. “Sneak into camp and keep using the stone until we find her?”
“Seems as though we’d have a tough time not being spotted by guards,” Mira pointed out.
Over their campfire the past night, they had discussed Sabyl’s warning of Sianna being used as bait for a trap. Taren had shrugged and replied, “Then I think we’ll give them more than they expected.”
Mira didn’t doubt that—from what little she’d seen of Taren’s abilities since his training with his mother over the past month, his magical talent had grown quite impressive. Even so, she was still worried that she wouldn’t be able to adequately protect him. If he overexerted himself, there was the danger he might fall unconscious for an extended period, and his collapsing in the middle of the enemy camp could prove the death of them both.
Taren frowned as he considered. “I don’t like the idea of consulting the stone too much since it’s imprecise and will take a long time to accurately pinpoint her location. And as you said, it’ll be hard to do so without being spotted. But I’m not confident I can discern her particular aura with my second sight either, and I’d hate to guess incorrectly. So we might be stuck using the stone—unless anyone has any better ideas?”
“I could try to sneak in and look for her.” Ferret rapped her knuckles against one metal foot, making a hollow clunk. “Can’t move very quietly anymore, though. There’s hundreds of tents up there—how will we know which one she’s in?”
Taren rubbed his temples. In the darkness, discerning his features was difficult, but Mira thought he looked exhausted. She felt the same—they’d stopped for a few hours each night to sleep and had taken short breaks throughout the day to rest the horses, but other than that, they’d kept moving steadily since leaving Mitterwel. Oddly, clinging to the saddle was nearly as tiring as covering the long miles on her own two feet, she’d discovered.
“I have something I can try,” Mira said, “a talent I accidentally discovered months ago, but I think it would work well for scouting the camp.”
“What’s your idea?” Taren asked, intrigued.
“We call it a spirit walk. I can step outside my body for a time and move about. The trouble is not getting swept away and being able to reel myself back in to my body afterward. I’ll be deep in meditation and, once I begin, cannot be roused.”
“Is it safe for you to do so?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes, so long as I maintain my focus. But I think I’ve grown in my abilities and should be able to manage it better now.”
“Let’s give it a try, then. Ferret and I will keep watch while you meditate.”
“You should try to get a quick nap in,” Ferret told Taren. “I can keep watch.”
Taren shook his head. “I sincerely doubt I’ll be able to relax enough this close to the encampment. Best that we get our business done with and be on our way. Plenty of time to rest later if all goes well.”
Mira finished her food and took another drink of water then situated herself comfortably in the grass. She crossed her legs and rested her palms upon her thighs. She took long, deep breaths and silently repeated a calming mantra to herself.
Once she was relaxed and centered, she focused and gently pushed out against the confines of her body, picturing her spirit flowing out as easily as her breath would through her nose and mouth. She slipped free of her flesh more easily than expected and then stood looking
down upon her own body. Taren and Ferret were watching her. She stepped away, but they evidently couldn’t see her spirit form.
Now, onward to the camp. Swift as the wind, silent as the night.
Mira strode forward into the darkness. One last look over her shoulder showed Taren looking right at her spirit form, face filled with marvel.
Then Mira was sprinting through the night, the grass a blur around her, not a blade bending to mark her passage. The enemy camp rushed closer with no sense of motion as if reeled in on a line, even swifter than her horse could gallop.
***
Taren watched Mira for a few minutes, but she remained motionless, her breathing deep and steady. He slipped into his second sight and was about to probe the Nebaran encampment himself when he saw a ghostly form moving away through the high grass. The aura of Mira’s body had deepened to a pale green, like the surrounding trees and grass, while her spirit form was a pure amber glow, nearly a bright white, much like he’d seen when examining Ferret’s essence.
That’s Mira’s spirit—her soul. The thought awed him.
Mira seemed to look back at him a moment then streaked off into the night as if launched from a bow.
“Do you want to wind me up?” Ferret asked, startling him.
“Sure. Now’s a good time.”
He removed the Ring of the Artificers, as he had come to think of it, from his finger, then moved behind Ferret and extended the ring. The metal band went through its neat folding movements and transformed into the wide-bowed hexagonal key, which slid into the slot in Ferret’s back with a solid click. Taren turned the key, counting its rotations. When his count reached twenty-two, the key stopped. He removed it and watched in fascination as the magical mechanical energy of her body intensified, surrounding the concentrated amber glow of her soul until her twin auras were nearly indistinguishable from each other.
“All wound up and ready for action,” she said. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Once Sianna is safe, we can seek out this Shirak Research Station and get you restored.” He rested his hand on her shoulder, feeling the faint thrumming vibrations resonating through her body.
Like a mechanical heartbeat. I need to find this cure for her. She’s been so brave and patient—I doubt I could’ve coped nearly as well in her situation.
Ferret reached back, her metal fingers closing around his hand and squeezing gently. “That means a lot—you have my gratitude.”
Taren was about to reply when a burst of fire streaked out of the night, the sudden brilliant illumination nearly blinding in intensity. He cried out in shock and stumbled backward. The fiery bolt passed sizzling about an arm’s length over his head and struck something behind him.
A pained screech drew his attention. He whirled in alarm to find a winged horror winging up into the sky. It had leathery batlike wings, a cadaverous body resembling a skeleton covered in shrunken leather, and a head like a vulture. The beast shrieked in pain and rage, a fresh wound sizzling in its chest.
That thing was about to swoop down and attack us! The thought was disconcerting.
A second fiery bolt streaked out of the darkness from off to their right an instant later, followed by a third. Now Taren could see a line of fire—a flaming bowstring—being drawn a few hundred paces away, up in the sky. An erinys immediately came to mind at seeing the weapon.
The bat-winged fiend had gained significant altitude. It tucked its wings and dove to avoid the next couple flaming arrows. The demon screeched a word in the fell speech, and a green fireball crackled from its hands toward the distant erinys.
By then, Ferret was on her feet and Taren placed himself in front of the defenseless Mira, summoning his magic to form a protective globe around the two of them.
The horses bucked and whinnied in fright. The tree branch snapped off from the force of the animals tugging on the reins, and the steeds raced off into the night.
Damn it! This pyrotechnic show will rouse the entire encampment. The earth magic brimmed within him, warm and reassuring as he tried to track the demon’s position in order to loose his magic at it.
Ferret ran and leaped for the bat-winged fiend when it dipped low, but its leathery pinions pumped the air, and it gained altitude, pulling just out of her reach.
More bursts of magic flashed back and forth in the darkness overhead as the two combatants exchanged fire. Taren lost visible sight of the demon as it ascended into the night sky, but he could see its ill red aura with his second sight. He let a trickle of magic flow, melding it into a snare, and tossed it at the fiend. He caught one of its wings with his magical rope of force and yanked on it. The creature tumbled from the sky, one wing pinned awkwardly. It shrieked angrily and loosed a bolt of fire at Taren. The green fire crackled and burst against his shield.
Ferret jumped again and snared the struggling creature by the ankle. She dragged it down with her as she landed. The beast spat a globule of green fire atop her, blasting her to the ground and slipping from her grasp. It chanted in the fell speech and also slipped through Taren’s snare, becoming incorporeal for a moment. He thought it might be about to teleport away, but the erinys barreled into it. The latter clawed at her foe and barked something in the fell speech, nullifying the first fiend’s magic. The two thrashed and fought, clawing and tearing at each other in midair.
Taren recognized Sirath, the erinys who had aided them previously by fighting her sisters in the forest. She thrust the creature away from her and drew her hellfire blade. It erupted into a fount of fire, red-orange limning the black tongues of flame. Her opponent sought to escape, but Sirath was swifter. She powered after it, wings pumping furiously, then twisted around in a corkscrew motion, one wing flaring out and its sharp edges tearing a large gash in her foe’s leathery wing, slowing it further. As it lost altitude, Sirath dove atop it, sword leading the way. The fiery blade split the demon’s head and proceeded to hew the creature’s emaciated body in twain as easily as if it were made of butter. The two pieces fell into the grass, glowing red and sizzling from the hellfire blade’s touch, a stinking smoke pouring off the corpse. Grass withered and died as black ichor spattered the ground.
“Greetings again, son of Neratiri,” Sirath said in her throaty voice. She descended until she hovered before Taren, her wingbeats stirring the tall grass, then extinguished her blade. “You’ve come into your power.” She bobbed her head in a gesture of respect.
Taren was momentarily entranced with Sirath’s aura—it was a crackling ball of energy, like a falling star—a deep red as the other demon’s had been yet roiling and sparking with a bright, pure light, as if the two were battling for primacy. He tried to blink away the bright spots in his vision following the pyrotechnic battle.
“Well met, Sirath. I thank you for your timely aid. What was that thing?”
“Scaixal, one of Nesnys’s lieutenants. The creature proved crafty in evading me so long, yet it gave up its concealment when it made its move to strike at you.” She seemed well pleased with herself.
Seeing movement in the grass, Taren remembered Ferret had fallen. He ran over and took her arm, helping her from the ground. “Are you injured?” Her metal pauldron and backplate were scorched and partially melted in one patch along her upper back, but the damage didn’t seem to have penetrated her outer carapace.
She swiveled her head and rotated her arms to make sure everything worked, then she shrugged. “I’m fine, I think.”
“What are you doing here?” Taren asked, returning his attention to Sirath.
“You are not the first to seek to rescue the mortal queen. I aided the others, yet they failed in the attempt.”
“Creel?” he asked.
“Yes, the monster hunter and his companions. Three nights past, they sneaked in to rescue her, but Nesnys had laid a trap, and they were captured, many slain.”
“How did they know of her whereabouts?”
“I brought word of her presence when I discovered she was a prisoner i
n camp. They thought the risk worth making the attempt. Your friends are currently chained in the center of the camp. Perhaps your gods favor you this night, for Nesnys is away. You have a fair chance of success, especially now that Scaixal is destroyed. None but human soldiers remain to face you.”
“That is good news.” Taren felt a spark of excitement flare anew. Now if Mira can find where they are holding Sianna…
Chapter 8
Mira visualized her spirit form as the wind itself, sweeping silently over the grass, her cloudy features an indistinct simulacrum of her physical self. She instinctively swept past the lines of small tents near the edges of the encampment, thinking a valuable prisoner wouldn’t be kept at the fringes. Sentries appeared from the gloom and then were gone as she blew past, leaving them unaware of her presence.
She passed many rows of the common soldiers’ tents before coming upon a paddock containing a number of horses gathered near one end. A rise loomed just beyond the paddock, crowned with large pavilions and a perimeter of brightly lit torches. Mira slowed her approach and ascended the rise, passing through the wall of one of the pavilions. A group of soldiers were inside, eating and drinking around a long table. Stacks of coin and sets of dice were laid out on the table.
Exiting the tent, she found herself on a parade ground. A dozen or so guards posted around the perimeter were keeping watch. At the far end of the field, a group of prisoners were chained to thick posts driven into the ground.
Mira drifted closer to them then stopped abruptly, shocked to recognize some of them. Five men were chained there in all: Creel, Rafe, and three others she didn’t know, one of whom was a dwarf. The men looked beaten and bloodied, save Creel, although all looked weak and in pain or discomfort.
As she regarded them, Creel raised his head and looked right at her, a puzzled expression on his face.
“Can you see me?” she asked, but her words were as silent as the night sky, and she knew he couldn’t hear her.
Trial of the Thaumaturge (Scions of Nexus Book 3) Page 5