by Amy Hopkins
“What?” Marcus whipped his head around, alarmed. “How the hell did that happen?” He let off a single pulse from his rifle and the remnant’s head—as well as the small red shell attached to its brain stem—went flying.
Julianne shook her head slowly. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. How long can we hold off this force? More specifically, how long can you hold it off?”
“If we knew how many o’ the bastards were out there I could tell ye.” Garrett slapped the haft of his axe against his palm. “But I’ll take a guess and say they’re not yer regular run o’ the mill remnants.” He pointed at the body on the ground. “If one’s been got by the Skrima, they all are.”
“Strange they’d only send one in to attack,” Julianne mused. “You think they were testing us?”
“It’s as good a guess as any.” Marcus squinted toward the trees, eyes picking out a flash of movement among the foliage. “How many do you think are out there?”
“Mostly likely between, oh, two and two hundred o’ the pricks,” Garrett answered unhelpfully.
“And normal remnant wouldn’t wait, they’d just attack.” Julianne nodded in agreement.
“Aye. The bastards are waitin’ fer somethin’.”
“They may have that luxury, but we don’t.” Julianne turned to Marcus. “Get a weapon in every available hand. We’ll fight to the death if need be.”
“What about the town?” Garrett asked.
A flicker of indecision passed over Julianne’s features. “Danil’s in there and he’s terrified. Not of anything that will hurt him,” she quickly reassured the others. “It’s just a spell. But she broke through his shields and she’s on the run. I could hunt her down, but…” Her eyes scanned the tree line. “At what cost? You need fighters out here. You need my staff.”
Garrett sucked air through his teeth. “Ye can fight all right, lass, but we don’t need weapons. We need a big-assed wall between those mind-fucked forest scum and our people.”
Julianne looked at Marcus. “Majority rules.”
Marcus raised his hands defensively. “Don’t make this my problem! You’re the damn Master. You pick!”
Julianne folded her hands on the butt end of her staff, leaning on it casually. “I’m waiting, dear.”
Marcus screwed up his face, then wagged a finger back and forth between the two. Julianne saw his lips move and guessed he was counting out the beats of a rhyme.
“Miney, mo!” Marcus’s finger pointed squarely at Garrett when he stopped. “Looks like your fight is inside today, Jules.”
Julianne nodded, happy that a choice was made. She’d calculated the odds as being fairly even either way, so she wasn’t perturbed that he’d chosen against her—or worried about how he’d made a choice that might determine the fate of several dozen innocent people.
“Get yer ass in there then, lass.” Garrett nodded to the trees, tips now glowing in the sunlight. “I don’t think they’ll wait too long.”
Julianne turned to go but a hand touched her elbow.
"I know you're busy," Jackson began, "but can you help me?"
"Of course," Julianne replied. "What do you need?"
"Magic." Jackson gestured at his swollen knees. "I'm not likely to see this through. Oh, don't you worry about me—I've had a long life, and for the most part it's been a good one. But if this is how I'm going to go out, I'd like to have one last chance at taking out the bastards who have killed so many of my people."
Julianne hesitated. "Jackson, I’m not a healer. I wish I was."
"I can fight, it's just the pain holding me back. I don't need you to fix anything, just…hide it a bit. Make it so I can't feel my bones grind together with every step I take. If you could just dull even a bit of pain, I can take care of the rest."
"That's incredibly dangerous," Julianne said. "If I get it wrong, you could be mortally wounded and not even realize it."
"And I might be stabbed in the gut if you don't." Jackson leaned closer to her. "Please. I won't do anything stupid, and I won't hold you responsible if I die."
Narrowing her eyes at the logic of his last statement, Julianne pulled back. She watched him for a moment, eyes boring into his soul, but Jackson didn't flinch.
"Okay, but you have to promise you'll be careful."
Jackson nodded eagerly as Julianne's eyes began to glow, and moments later he bounced on bent knees and grinned.
"That's the ticket!"
He ran off to join the rest of his people, his movements as fluid and graceful as a man half his age.
"I'd best go before I have a long line of people asking me to do the same for them," Julianne said. Setting her shoulders, she stopped to give Marcus a brief hug and Garrett a shoulder-squeeze. “If I don’t come back in time, kill some for me.”
“Aye, I’ll kill a hundred o’ the bastards!” Garrett chuckled as she jogged toward the town gates.
She slowed as she approached the thick walls but didn’t bother to shout. Instead, she whispered a phrase and her eyes lit up.
There was no one at the gate. Momentarily confused, Julianne did another mental sweep of the area. No one. The nearest mind she could connect with was a young woman huddled under her bed.
Julianne pushed through the woman’s fear to take control of her mind. Sorry. I really hate doing this, but lives depend on it.
Julianne blinked her borrowed eyes. Twilla crawled out of her hiding spot and dusted off her dress, wobbling a little as her host adjusted to the woman’s proportions.
You’re tall! Julianne thought. Indeed, the girl had the long limbs of a model.
Twilla’s mental presence shrank further. Between the last jolt of terror Catherine had caused and this strange intruder in her mind, Twilla was ready to give up and pass out.
No can do, Julianne told her. I need your mind.
Layering calm and security over the girl’s mind, Julianne showed her what lay outside—a group of people just as terrified as those inside Anrock, but with real cause to feel that way.
Now, I know this is uncomfortable, but I need your help to get inside. I need to find Catherine and stop the fear she’s spreading. I have to save my friends.
Through Twilla’s eyes, Julianne inspected the gates. Their design was a feat of engineering beyond Julianne’s comprehension. Complicated pulleys and ropes hung from the wall and there was a giant wheel to one side. Julianne had briefly noticed the contraption when Danil had entered, and now regretted not paying more attention to how it had operated.
Though Twilla wasn't intricately familiar with it, what she did know made Julianne's heart sink.
The gates were designed to be self-closing, and to open them wide would require the strength of two brawny men.
Perhaps Catherine had them made like that for a reason, Julianne thought. The young woman was clearly terrified of what lay outside the gates and had gone to great lengths to make sure they could not be opened without the consent of those inside.
Well, no harm in trying.
Twilla approached the great wall and gripped one of the spokes. She pushed with all her might, straining as her muscles and her cheeks flushed with the effort.
The gates didn't budge.
Shit! Julianne made Twilla take a step back, examining the construction once again. She spied a length of rope, one end lying on the ground and the other fastened to a pulley near the top of the wall.
That might work, Julianne thought.
Twilla grabbed the end of the rope and tucked it into the waist of her skirt, then scaled the ladder to a platform halfway up the wall.
Once there, Twilla gathered the rope and swung one end in a loose circle, then tossed it toward the top of the wall. Her first two throws missed, but the third went neatly over. The rope slid over the wall, and Julianne gently let the girl’s mind go.
Tugging on the rope to make sure it was secure, Julianne began to climb.
She scaled the wall with little effort and dropped onto the platform on t
he other side. Twilla had already disappeared, no doubt sneaking back to her hiding spot.
At first glance the town was quiet and empty, but it didn't take long for Julianne to connect with the minds of dozens of people who had crumbled under the flood of terror Catherine had transmitted. Her desire to flee the incoming threat had sent the townspeople of Anrock running for cover.
Julianne's skin prickled as the spell washed over her, noticeable even through her shields. Julianne shook it off and sent out a thread of her own magic, seeking a familiar mind.
Danil’s shield had been completely dismantled by the force of Catherine's terror. The very thought of opening the gate had sent her into a terrified spiral that had shattered Danil’s attempts to calm her and inflicted her magic on him.
Danil? Julianne sent.
Can't fight it, he replied, mind fading as he was wracked by fear.
Find your center, she instructed. Julianne linked with his mind and gently guided him back toward the part of his mind that he had spent years training.
A mystic’s center was deep within their consciousness, like a bright flame glowing at the very bottom of an abyss. It was rare for that place to be affected by another mystic—and near impossible for that tiny spark of inner peace to be affected by someone not trained to reach through the many layers of defense around it.
Danil’s mind sank into the calmness, and Julianne felt his muscles relax and his knotted mind untangle. She waited until his shields were up, sturdy and stable as his training dictated.
Bitch's oath she's strong, Danil sent to Julianne.
Either that or you've been neglecting your practice, Julianne said.
What? No! I still practice every day, I swear. I know I've been distracted, but—
I was only teasing, Julianne assured him. Is Polly okay?
She felt his sudden shame as he realized he'd forgotten all about the girl. She waited until he had reassured himself that Polly hadn't been physically harmed and would recover from the mental effects of the spell.
Did you see anything that would suggest where she went? Julianne asked.
Danil gave the mental equivalent of shaking his head. She was so frantic that I don't think even she knew where she was headed. How are things outside?
Safe, but not for long. We need to sort this out right now. Julianne dropped her link with Danil and took a deep, calming breath.
First she needed to get those gates open so the people of Kells could find their own safe place to hide from the impending fight outside. Julianne embraced her magic at a deeper level, sending spears of consciousness out in all directions.
Julianne sensed a man hidden in a latrine, back pressed against the wall and hands over his face, and jabbed him with a compulsion strong enough to override his terror. You. Here. Now. She waited until he stood and shuffled outside before moving on.
You. The second guard had sought refuge in Catherine’s manor but had been turned away, so he had buried himself under a mound of old hay in the stable. The stench of moldy straw made his stomach turn, but not as violently as the thought of what lay outside the gates of Anrock.
Come here. Open the gates, now.
He stood and bits of grass scratched inside his shirt. He didn’t bother to shake it out, driven too urgently by the need to follow Julianne’s instruction despite his gut-clenching fear.
Julianne patiently guided both men, blocking what effects of Catherine’s spell she could. In some ways their unease helped. Eager to get this task over with so they could return to the illusion of safety, they trotted through the empty streets quickly.
Once both men stood before her, Julianne’s efforts increased.
“Open the gates,” she instructed.
A fresh wash of fear driven by months of mental conditioning resisted her mental force.
“Open. The. Gates.” Sweat beaded Julianne’s forehead, and she wondered just how damn strong Catherine was.
“Bastard curse it! If you don’t open the Bitch-damned gates I’ll throw you out there myself,” Julianne snapped.
What little color remained in the men’s faces drained away. They quickly moved to the wall, one taking a hold of the two pulleys while the other stood ready at the giant wheel.
“Pull!” called the first man and tugged the ropes, leaning back against their weight.
The other man used the momentum to move the wheel—slowly at first, then faster as the heavy doors swung open.
Send them in, Julianne sent to Marcus. Now! I don’t know how long it will stay open.
Before the gate had fully opened, people started to wander inside. The townspeople of Kells looked around warily to see if they’d be evicted, but once they spotted Julianne they moved faster.
“Come on! Hurry…everyone in!” Julianne urged them through. The opening wasn’t large—bodies jostled each other as they hurried to obey.
“Remnant!” The scream from outside sent a wave of fright through everyone present.
The guard on the pulleys whimpered and let go. Julianne cursed and latched onto the other.
“Hold it!" she yelled, giving even more weight to her mental control as she forced the terrified man to strain against the now-closing gate.
People shoved and pushed to get inside. They tripped over each other, and some stopped to help those who had fallen while others urged them to hurry.
When the wheel slipped from the guard’s sweaty-palmed grip the doors began to swing shut faster, but the last of the refugees slipped through the narrowing space moments before they closed with a deep thud.
In the minutes it took for Julianne to confirm everyone was inside and no one was hurt, the two guards had already fled back to their hiding places.
“This is getting ridiculous,” Julianne muttered. “I need to find that girl and shut her magic down.”
The only way she would be able to find Catherine was to get into her mind, which meant letting Catherine into her own. Finding her calm center, Julianne slowly let down the outer layer of her shields.
Her heart beat faster and her lungs tightened as her need for oxygen suddenly increased. As much as Julianne hated herself for what she was about to do, she knew it was necessary.
Where are you? Julianne sent the query not in a calming or soothing manner, but with the slightest hint of a threat behind it. Catherine's muddled mind was surrounded by a thick band of static, which made it impossible for Julianne to narrow down her location. Though Julianne could sense individual pockets of fear within the town, she didn't have time to go through each individually to discover which was her target
Julianne felt ripples of terror like waves spreading from a pebble dropped in water. It wasn’t perfect but gave her a possible direction.
Julianne started to run, narrowing in on Catherine’s location by targeting the swell of emotion’s center.
She stopped when she lost her target and sent out another call. I'm coming for you. She fought against the guilty ache in her chest. I opened the gates to let them in. Now I'm coming for you.
Terror swelled in Julianne’s breast, fueled by the emotion that ricocheted through the terrified city. After fighting it down to a manageable level, Julianne used it to her advantage. She looked for a way past the row of buildings that stood between her and the strongest projection of fear. She spotted a small alley, which was obscured by a pile of old crates that had been dumped outside it.
I won't leave until you come out.
Julianne stumbled to a stop. Too far. She backtracked a few steps and closed her eyes, trying to narrow in on the sensation she had felt moments before.
Up. Julianne tilted her head to examine the windows that loomed above her.
The buildings surrounding her were clustered tightly together, making it hard to tell which one she wanted. Rather than waste time trying to narrow it down further, Julianne ducked through the nearest open door.
Floorboards creaked loudly at each step, making her heart jump and her stomach clench. Julianne al
lowed herself a small grin of victory. She can hear me. That meant her target was close.
Catherine’s proximity and Julianne’s lowered shields made it impossible to hide from the magic. Fear beat at the edges of Julianne's mind, held back only by the strength of her personality and many years of practice at mastering her emotions. As much as she ached to, Julianne wasn’t quite ready to shut down her connection to the younger and very frightened mental magician.
Julianne paused, and as silence filled the room she heard another sound; one that had been obscured by her noisy progress.
Weeping. The terrified girl’s frightened sobs made Julianne's heart lurch and guilt warred with the knowledge that her actions had been necessary. Julianne crept into the room next to her and quietly walked over to the ragged blankets that covered a shaking figure in the corner.
“I'm sorry for scaring you,” Julianne said gently. Her shoulders dropped, and her chest relaxed as she resurrected her shields. “I'm here to help."
The blanket stilled for a moment, then another terrified sob escaped. Catherine couldn’t hold her breath for more than a moment.
"Catherine, would you like to stop being afraid?”
The sobs halted again and though the blanket didn't move, a voice spoke up from beneath them. “You're going to kill me, aren't you?”
"No. I don't kill good people."
The blanket heaved another gulping breath. "I'm not a good person,” Catherine said in a shaky voice. “I'm cursed. I'm the reason the remnant are here."
"You're not cursed,” Julianne insisted. “You're a mental magician like me, except I’ve had training. I can project my emotions and feel what others feel, but I can also stop that from happening."
A corner of the blanket dropped away and a glittering red-rimmed eye peeked out. The girl didn't speak, so Julianne continued.
"When a normal person gets scared,” Julianne explained, "they only have to deal with their own fear. Oh, that fear can be crippling. It often is, because our world is a scary place and a lot of dangerous things live here.”
The blanket dropped farther to reveal the second eye.
"But when you feel afraid," Julianne continued, “your magic projects that fear toward everyone around you. It also picks up their emotions, so you feel not just your emotions but theirs as well.” Julianne held up thumb and forefinger two inches apart and bounced a fingertip from the other hand between the digits.