by Nhys Glover
The smile he sent me then had lit up my still-broken heart.
It had not been easy to recover from the loss of Trace. Which should have been absurd, given that we had known each other for such a short time. But bonds once forged, no matter how long in the making, were hard to break. Especially when the person you loved was taken from you so suddenly and so violently.
So we'd worked on transferring magic. I'd sat Julz in front of me. Calun had stood to my right, to monitor what was happening in my mind, and Jaron had stood on my left to look after my body. Darkin had taken care of Julz's body, while Flea monitored his thoughts. If any one of the support people felt something was wrong, they were to immediately stop the whole process.
After giving Julz an encouraging smile, I closed my eyes and slipped into my peaceful place. Trace had given me the idea of transferring magic. If he could draw memories from someone with just a thought, then I should be able to give magic with just a thought. It was only a matter of finding the way to do it.
Most magic comes naturally to a person. They wield it without thought, in the same way they breathe without thought. Certainly, magical sons had all been trained to use their magic properly, but the magic itself was innate. No one had taught me how to use it. It had all come to me from necessity, except when I went out of my way to discover more.
So to give magic was like saying you give someone the air you breathe and the ability to breathe it. Seemingly impossible. But still, I was willing to try. Because Julz needed this, and the rebellion needed him.
I went inward and connected with the whispering voice that spoke to me in the forest. The one that made me feel whole and perfect and right. The one that made me feel loved. Even more than my husbands made me feel loved. Sometimes I wondered, when I finally returned to this place, why I came here so rarely. I had no answer to that question. Knowing myself was no easier than knowing anyone else. Harder, I often thought.
But I was here now, and I was opening to what I needed in this moment. And I listened to the voice and allowed it to be true. Allowed it to be possible for me to just give of my bounty, freely, easily and permanently.
From that place of absolute Knowing, I extended my hand and touched Julz's arm. "I give you wind," I said, though I wasn't sure if I spoke aloud or not.
And then it was gone. I sensed it go, though it felt like nothing. It was hard to even explain to myself what happened or how it happened. One minute I had wind magic and in the next I didn't. Not all my air magic was gone, just the part that could stir up wind. There were many parts of air, like my Knowing and my ability to communicate with airlings, those I still had in abundance.
I opened my eyes and looked into Julz's young, anxious face. The Godling had taken so much from him, but the Goddess had given something back. Something that would allow him to be purposeful again and mayhap get the resolution he needed. Not vengeance or even justice, because the people who would fall beneath the rocks were not the people who killed his parents or his brothers and sisters. They weren't even the people who made a wagon crush his legs. But doing something to stop the force behind those killers was what it was truly about. Stopping the Godling − whoever he might be at any given time − and the priesthood and power-mongers, who supported and profited from his regime.
"Julz? How do you feel?" I asked gently.
The lad swallowed and opened his eyes. "I don't know. No different, really. I expected it to be like a great whoosh of energy entering me. But I didn't get that. Maybe I didn't get it at all. Are you sure you gave it to me?"
I nodded. "Let's go outside and you can practice. Magic is like anything else. Unless you use it, refine it, make it yours, you may as well not have it. It is like owning a magnificent sword. Just having it didn't make you a great swordsman. Only training and hard work could do that."
So we wheeled Julz outside in his chair and he practiced moving air. It was amusing to watch his face light up as he saw what he could do. No gale-force winds at first, just breezes that stirred the warm air and billowed the washing on the line. Bertil would be pleased with that.
And so Julz got my air magic. And several of the lasses sent to help in the kitchens were given other forms of magic. Bertil complained, as did the cook in charge of feeding the hundred or more recruits and riders we now had, but I was determined. We could always get more kitchen hands, but choosing the right people to receive my magic was crucial.
The three girls I'd chosen all had something special about them. Was it Knowing that had me choosing them? I'm not sure. But I did feel a rightness to it once I talked to them about their reasons for wanting magic. All had come to us wanting to help, but with no interest in becoming riders. Like so many, they considered fighting was for males.
Kila was the eldest, mayhap a sun or two older than me, with dark hair and skin that reminded me of Trace's. She wore her hair in the same little braids that he'd also favoured. She was a quiet woman who kept to herself. I'd seen the shadows in her dark gaze on more than one occasion. I had asked her about them, when I was deciding if it was right to gift her my magic.
Her eyes had taken on a hollow, haunted expression before she'd glanced away. "My husband and me lived with his parents and younger brothers and sisters in a town on the very edge of Eastsealund. He was a wagoner with his Dah. One day they didn't come home. A quarter turn later four magical sons rode into our town looking for us, the wagoners' family. They told us our men had been put to death for harbouring the Abomination known as Airsha. And they'd been sent to make an example of their family so no others would think to betray the Godling."
My heart had missed a beat as soon as my name was mentioned. I couldn't believe she was talking about the wagoners who had been so good to me when I took shelter in their wagon during my escape from the palace. In the back of my mind I'd always had a plan to find those men and reward them for their kindness. Right then, I knew I would never get that chance.
"They laughed as they used their magic on us. We were an old lady, a young wife and a handful of childings, none older than twelve."
"How did you survive?" I'd asked her gently, my throat so constricted I could barely get the words out. I wasn't sure I wanted to know.
"One took a fancy to me and raped me while the others were occupied with the rest. His gift was making the earth quake and he wouldn't be needed until the end, so he told me. So he occupied his time with me. When he was finished, he left me in the house and went outside. The ground quaked under me and the walls of our house collapsed around me. I thought I was going to die. I hoped I was going to die. The other townspeople dug me out later. I was the only one who survived.
"I joined the rebellion as soon as I was well enough. I needed to do whatever I could to help the rebel cause. Men like those magical sons don't deserve the power they have." She'd paused then, seeming to consider her next words carefully. When she went on it was a little defiantly, as if she expected to get punished for her disrespect.
"I came here to meet you. You see, I always blamed my man for what happened to me. How could he have not realised the danger he was putting himself and his family in by saving you? So I wanted to meet this paragon that everyone was saying would lead us all to freedom. This paragon who had cost me so much. And, now I have, I know what they did was right. The price was painfully high, but it was worth it. You are worth it," she'd finished with fire in her eyes.
I'd been humbled by her words and Knew each one was the truth. It was an easy decision to gift her the ability to make the earth shake. She would make better use of it than the bastard who had raped her and brought her house down on top of her.
Freta was a golden-haired sweetie with freckles and a bright, wide-eyed blue gaze that made her look as if she was constantly being surprised by life. She was about sixteen and her generous curves had caught the attention of more than one of the lads. But her innocence kept her safe from their predatory natures, as did my husbands' protective gaze.
She had a slightly diffe
rent tale to tell. None of her family had felt the Godling's wrath, but she had come from a family loyal to the Goddess. When the word went out that the Goddess was ready to end the rule of the Godling, her brothers had all joined the fighting forces. She had wanted to do her share too, but knew she couldn't fight. And everyone knew that an army was only as good as the food in its stomach. So she'd come to work in our kitchens.
When I offered her my ability to freeze water, which included the blood in a person's veins, she had burst into tears and assured me she would follow the path the Goddess had laid out for her with pride. I only hoped her devotion to the Goddess would see her through the harshness of the battle to come.
Lastly, there was the nobleman's daughter, Beila. She was dark-haired and tall, almost as tall as my husbands, and as muscular as any man. Many of the lads had made fun of her, saying she should have been fighting with the other men. But Beila had the gentlest soul I'd ever come across, other than Calun.
When I'd asked her about her past her big doe-eyes, the colour of storm clouds, had been filled with tears. "My older brother developed magic when he was thirteen suncycles old. We were all shocked. Only the Godling could father magical sons. But then the priests came and told us he was a mistake of nature that the gods wanted corrected. And they took him away and told us he was dead. My parents were so humiliated to have produced such an offspring. When I heard about the rebellion I knew it was right. I knew that the Godling was not the only one who could produce magical sons. And when I said this to my parents they locked me in my room. I escaped and joined the rebellion, willing to do anything to help, except fight."
"If I gave you magic, could you use it in the coming battle? It is a form of fighting," I asked her carefully.
She looked surprised, her long, dark lashes fluttering repeatedly as she took in my words. "I would just have to stand on the side, would I not?"
"Yes. But you would have to kill. From a distance, yes, but you would be killing the enemy. Mayhap even your own family, if they still stand with the Godling."
For a long time she was silent. Then she'd looked up and met my gaze with more fire than I expected. "If my father and brothers fight for the Godling, after what happened to Laric then they must face the consequences of their actions. I cannot say that I could kill them if they were standing in front of me. But if I was somehow responsible for their deaths in battle I would... I would see it as the price I must pay for doing what is right. If you give me the magic to fight, I will fight for you, Goddess."
This was what I'd wished for Trace. That someone in his family had stood for him against the Godling. So I was doubly moved by this girl, though I worried she would not be able to harden her heart when it came time to kill. But I gifted her with my fire in the hopes it would give her the courage and spirit she needed. It was a lot to ask of someone barely fifteen suncycles old.
I set up classes especially to help Julz and the girls use their magic effectively. And all had excelled at their element. It was like they were childlings of my magic.
And so, after more than a suncycle in the making, our airling army was ready to join the conflict and ready to end the war. Because I was determined there would be no more fighting, no more death, after this final battle.
Darkin stepped out of the Command Post tent. He was dressed as all rebel fighters were dressed, in a green vest, a colourful stripe designating his rank of airling general on his right breast. The rest of the rebels' clothes might be their own, but they all wore the vests with pride. Green was the Goddess' colour. Green was the colour of Life, a fitting colour for our cause. And as the Godling's men wore red, the colour of fire and destruction, it was fitting also.
"I thought I'd find you here," Dark said, coming to stand behind me, his arms around my thickening waist. How many times had we done exactly this, he and I? Me, staring out at what we were creating; him, reassuring himself I was not caught up in self-doubt or recriminations. It felt like we had been doing this our whole lives, not just a little over a suncycle.
"Just getting it clear in my mind what is to come. It feels a little like reliving the past having this happen in the very place my mother was rescued."
"Your nephew was none too pleased to find his last kinglund supporter had turned on him. And had the nerve to raise a secret army and protect the renegade airlings. So he leads his own army into battle to personally grind his heel into Westsealund. To teach them a lesson. Arrogance and inexperience will win the day for us." Dark kissed my ear and blew in it to send a skittering of tingles over my skin.
"It doesn't seem quite real. This last sun and more. I keep thinking I will wake up and find myself back in the harem, back with my mother, awaiting the day of my sacrifice. That world had been all that was real to me for eighteen suns. All my life. This... being this... seems like a dream."
"By the end of the battle it'll feel like a nightmare. But it is all real, I assure you. Too real. And I fear for you so much I'm sick to the stomach with it."
I gave a half-laugh. "I will be the safest of everyone, back here on the sidelines directing my magic. If anyone should be afraid it is me. You will all be in the thick of it. The Godling's mages will be doing everything they can to stop you. They will direct their attack your way more than on the landed army. You're the threat; the greatest threat."
"And we know this and are prepared. Each of your loving husbands has a unit of twenty-five well-trained airling troopers under their command. We know what we're doing and we've trained to deal with every contingency. If the Air Master throws wind at us, we can weather it. If a Fire Master throws fire at us, we can dodge it. If a Water Mage creates hail the size of boulders we might have a problem, but none of our spies suggest they have that capacity. We do, of course, thanks to Trace. That lad who can pull water from clouds and turn it into hail is amazing. And so is the lass you gave your ability to freeze the water in a person's body. A refined but powerful weapon in our arsenal."
I nodded and leaned back even more into Dark's strength and confidence. I had no idea whether we would win or lose on the morrow, but with Dark in charge of the full force of airlings I knew we had a better than good chance of coming out as victors. And we had me and my team of Elemental Mages too.
When the planning began for this day, I had expected to stand on the side and do whatever I saw needed doing. But the Abominations, or Abs as they were now being called, were determined to co-ordinate their skills with mine, making me their leader. Julz and the three girls I'd given my magic to also wanted me as their leader.
Not every Ab had magic that could be used in battle. Those, like Kean, had been instrumental in the secret side of the war. They collected information, created unrest among the soldiers, and removed key officers from the army so it faltered until new leaders could be appointed. In fact, it was Kean's good ears that had given us the advanced warning the Godling was coming to Westsealund to make an example of them. To wipe the kinglund out of existence with our full force, so the other kinglunds will scuttle back to me with their tails between their legs, was how my nephew had phrased it.
And my nephew's plan might have worked, if we hadn't found out and amassed our own army of all the kinglunds and Badlunds in their path. Their outriders would have warned the Godling what was waiting for him by now, but he could not turn back at this point or be labelled a coward. His own men would turn on him, then, if he showed any sign of weakness. So they would fight. And this war would end.
"This has been the most vital suncycle of my life," Dark said reflectively. "When I think back to the way we were before you came into our lives, it feels like a colourless dream. Life only gained colour and vitality when you came into it. This sun has been filled with pain and hardship, and so much fear. Yet it has had even more wonder, love and joy than I ever thought possible. Because of you, Beloved. All because of you."
I sighed. "And there will be more pain, hardship and fear to come. And mayhap death. I can barely breathe when I think about the d
eath. I want to run screaming to my nephew and throw myself at his feet. Offer myself up to him, if only he will call all of this off. But I know it would not work. Nothing but this fight to the death will end it."
"No self-sacrifice for you, Goddess. Your people would give up if anything happened to you. The rebels call you their figure-head, but you are more than that. You are the heart of this rebellion. Without you they die."
I turned in Dark's arms so I could rest my head on his shoulder and look down on the lively encampment of warriors below. The battle-ground was empty, lifeless, and pregnant with the promise of death. But beyond it to the west, for as far as the eye could see, was the focused, energised and overflowing fulfilment of life. It was that I needed to keep uppermost in my mind. Life!
"Do you know how much I love you?" I asked softly, stroking the front of his green vest.
"I have an idea. Want to show me?" he said with a smile in his deep voice.
I giggled. Our sex life had been greatly restricted since moving to the rebel encampment. A tent did not provide much of a barrier to the sounds we all made during love-making. Not that it worried my men, beastlings that they were. But I was constrained, knowing some of the lads or Flea might hear us.
Rama had been fighting a bit with some of the other soldiers too. I was sure it was because those men made comments about what went on in our tent at night. For himself he wouldn't care, but if I was being maligned he wouldn't put up with it. I pitied those hapless fools who stirred my warrior husband's ire.
So, yes, for one reason or another, our love-life had become limited.
I kissed Dark with all the love in my heart, and felt his passion rise to meet mine. Was there time for me to have what might be one last shared pleasure with my husbands? Losing Trace had made me vulnerable in a way I hadn't been before. He made it real, the possibility of losing someone I loved. Up until then it had been a nebulous thought, like death itself. We all knew we had to die some time, but no one thinks it will be now. Not until you lose someone close to you. Then the fragility of life comes home in a painful, powerful way.