Star Mage (The Enslaved Chronicles Book 3)

by R. K. Thorne

  “I don’t think you will use them; I just don’t want you to be accused of it,” Wunik grumbled.

  “Destroying this map does not remove the knowledge from our world. If we could somehow be sure no other maps existed, perhaps then it would be worth it. But as it is, for all we know, Daes has dozens of copies of this exact information. He claimed he was making a new brand. We don’t know what he knows. Destroying it would only blind us to his capabilities.”

  Jaena sighed. “He’s right.”

  Miara’s jaw was clenched. She said nothing. Aven’s stomach twisted into a vicious knot.

  “I suggest we study this map, memorize it,” Tharomar said, “and then I can destroy this new copy. Most wouldn’t be able to read even this. But without it, the old safeguards are very strong.”

  Wunik nodded. “Most won’t know even modern Serabain.”

  “We didn’t have to look that hard to find someone who did, though,” Miara said quietly. She was right, he knew. They’d stumbled across Tharomar, but in the middle of Panar? There were certainly others who knew Serabain, just few others they could trust. Even now, Aven hoped that trust was not misplaced.

  “We got lucky,” Wunik assured her. “But do you agree destroying the new map in a week or so will be enough?”

  Miara pursed her lips. Aven held his breath a long moment, then finally released it when she nodded slightly.

  He nodded to Tharomar. “Don’t let the translation live for more than a week.” He hoped pronouncing death over the new copy would ease Miara’s tension some, but she didn’t meet his eyes.

  “I will guard the translation until we’re ready to destroy it,” said Tharomar, “just as I’ve been guarding the original.”

  “And if your order calls you back before then?” asked Wunik.

  Tharomar frowned at him, as if he wondered why Wunik was bringing this up. “That won’t matter either way,” said Tharomar. Jaena stiffened again.

  “The map can’t leave Akaria,” Aven pointed out, in case that wasn’t obvious.

  “No, I meant—” Tharomar hesitated for a moment, glancing at each of them. “I know, sire. The map won’t be leaving Akaria, I assure you.”

  “It’s settled then.” Aven nodded. “Let’s get to work.”

  JAENA WAS glad to return to their rooms after the meeting. Tharomar had curled the star maps into scroll tubes he held under his arm, and now he placed them carefully on the desk, along with a stack of ten other books. She was shocked he could carry it all and also set them down gracefully, but he’d insisted he hadn’t needed help. Apparently he’d been right.

  She sank to a seat on the bed, watching him as he examined the books, turning them over, looking at their spines. He didn’t look much like a blacksmith at the moment, in a dark tunic and trousers only a palace like Ranok could loan to someone. The stubble on his jaw was teetering on the edge of a full-blown beard, as he’d been concentrating on little other than finishing that translation. She’d dreaded the moment, thinking that must be what he was waiting for before… before what exactly, she wasn’t sure. Before he finally told her about the message from the temple, at the very least. But he didn’t look like a man gearing up for a difficult conversation. He was frowning at the book he’d opened, but if anything, she’d have said he radiated happiness. Contentment. He was absorbed in the book enough to not notice her staring at him. Completely relaxed and at ease.

  Not like her. Her guts were coiled up like a snake that’d swallowed a handful of butterflies. She had been so determined to let him broach the subject of the temple’s message when he was good and ready to. She also wasn’t particularly keen on revealing she’d read it without asking his permission.

  But now Wunik had asked him about it. Directly. Twice.

  And each time, he’d acted like he hadn’t even received any message at all. Like a message calling him back to Kavanar was a near impossibility. Why would he lie, to Wunik of all people? The translation was finished. Ro was free now to do as the womenfolk bid him to, as much as Jaena hated it.

  He must be planning to wait a week, until the new copy of the map was destroyed. And perhaps he didn’t want her to worry about it or dread him leaving, or he simply didn’t plan to tell her at all. And as much as that thought hurt like a knife in her chest, she could see that. He was quite possibly the most self-sacrificing man she’d ever known; she could see him trying to save her the hurt until the very last moment it was necessary.

  That might be noble, but it’d also be foolish, because there was no way in all the seven hells she was letting him go anywhere near those lying temple women without her.

  She rose to her feet, squared her shoulders, and took a deep breath. Ready or not, it was time they talked about that fool message and what they were going to do about it. Together.

  “Ro, I—” she started, but she faltered when his warm brown eyes darted up to meet hers. There was not a speck of a secret plan to abandon her in them.

  “What is it?” He smiled and set down the book.

  She straightened further. She’d try to say her words with courage, with strength, to not hint at the terror shivering somewhere within her. “Ro, I want to go with you.”

  “What?” He cocked his head to the side. “Go where?” He glanced at the window. “You’re not staying here? I was thinking of a nap after all that work last night.”

  How could he claim to be so utterly confused? The pretense felt like a betrayal, and one that didn’t make any sense. She gritted her teeth and tried again. “When you go back to your temple. I want to go with you.”

  His mouth fell open, and his eyebrows rose, leaving him looking faintly stunned. “I’m not going back, Jaena.”

  “But when you do,” she insisted, frowning. Why was he pretending? They hadn’t always been truthful with each other, but to lie at a moment like this… It hurt more than she wanted to admit.

  Ro was shaking his head. “I told you, they won’t—”

  “I read the letter,” she said coldly.

  “You did?” He raised his eyebrows further, then tilted his head, as if examining her anew.

  “I read it the day it arrived. And I’m telling you, I’m going with you. You’re not vanishing on me, Tharomar. Why else haven’t you mentioned it? Because it’s for my own good? I am the only one who can judge that.”

  “Jae, really, that’s not necessary—”

  “Yes, it is.” How could she explain the depth of her feeling? Didn’t he already know? He was all she had in the world, the only one she loved who remained for certain. If she wailed that losing him might break her irrevocably, would that only serve to drive him away? She’d look desperate. Pathetic, even. No. “I want to fight by your side.”

  “Oh, Jaena.” He strode over to her, his hands circling sweetly around her hips and pulling her against him. She rested her head against his chest, clinging to the warm rise and fall of his breath beneath her. There was that earthy smell that never seemed far away. Other women would likely not find it so divine. They belonged together, and not just for this short while. For… much, much longer. Perhaps he disagreed. He must miss home, the village, the women who’d raised him. A wave of sinking dread washed over her, leaving her sure that this fight was already lost. She’d drawn her arms around him, but she squeezed tighter now, pressing her hands into the small of his back, the firm reality that reminded her he was not gone yet.

  “That is sweet of you to say,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. The kind of kiss you gave to a little girl before you told her she couldn’t have what she wanted.

  The hell with that. She drew back from him abruptly and stabbed a finger at his chest. “I am going with you, Ro. I won’t be denied. You don’t think I can help?”

  “Of course you can. Would we have gotten this far without working together?”

  “Then why can’t I go?”

  He let out a laugh that mystified her. “I never said you couldn’t
.”

  “Oh.” She frowned, replaying the conversation in her mind. Hadn’t he said… “Then why is it not necessary?”

  He strode back over to the desk, opened its drawer, and took out another rolled-up sheet, this one on cheaper parchment that had no seal affixed just yet. Stepping back in front of her, he held out the scroll, his expression almost sheepish.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” His eyes bored into hers, his furrowed brow intense.

  She unrolled it and ran her eyes over it rapidly. “I regret to inform you… my lord’s duties keep me in urgent service.… I am not sure when I can return, if ever…. I accept the consequences and will consider myself severed from the order if you require it…” She looked up in surprise.

  “Did you really think I would simply walk away from this?” he said, his eyes locking with hers.

  “This? Akaria? The war?”

  “Us, Jaena. You.” Gently, he ran a finger along her jawline, tilting her chin up toward him. His lips brushed hers with a surprising tenderness that left her still and dazed, hoping only for more. “You’re as fierce as a mountain cat,” he said gently, “and it’s much appreciated, but unnecessary.”

  “How can you not go back?” she said cautiously.

  He winced. “Well, I never considered myself an oathbreaker, but here we are.”

  She reeled back. “You’re no oathbreaker! What are you talking about?”

  “I am,” he said calmly.

  “How can this be breaking your oath? We need you here now more than ever. What about your duty to King Aven?” What about his duty to her? Wasn’t she part of their Order’s plan? Wasn’t it… more than that? She wanted him to have a permanent duty to her, the kind of oath acknowledged before all gods and men. The abrupt realization stunned her.

  “I have a duty to the temple too.”

  “What did you swear, to protect your temple or to protect mages?”

  “I swore to fight to end the Devoted blight and protect mages from them.”

  “And where do you think you can do that more effectively? Here, with the Akarian army behind you, or at a temple in Evrical with a bunch of priestesses who can’t even be trusted to tell you the truth?” She let out a huff and folded her arms across her chest.

  He raised his eyebrows. Perhaps that had come out more harshly than she’d intended.

  “If you want to stop them, we need this brand destroyed,” she insisted.

  “Technically, the brand doesn’t belong to the Devoted.”

  “I don’t see how that matters.”

  “You’re right, it doesn’t matter. Because I don’t care. The Devoted headquarters is in Takar. The temple would be fully within their rights to say, the day has come, we’re marching to Takar and wiping the place out. And you know what? I wouldn’t go. Because this is bigger than them. I can see that now.”

  She frowned at him. “Why should you have to choose? If the brand is destroyed and Kavanar defeated, we can make Akaria a place where the Devoted are unwelcome. Outlawed, even. Think of it, a whole swath of the center of the continent. How will that affect what the Devoted can do? Their power? Which will have more impact, this war or that one small temple? And if this war is won, the temple can resist the Devoted openly, instead of hiding behind secrets—and lies. Can you even swear an oath to someone who hasn’t told you the truth?”

  “Yes, you can. I can’t believe we’re fighting about this of all things.” He threw up his hands, obviously suppressing a laugh.

  “I think oaths to liars should be annulled.” She was really just making this up as she went along, but that sounded good. Even if he was right, she resented the fact his honor could be besmirched by fools—or worse.

  “We don’t know that for sure. They conveniently left that out of their reply. But I still knew what I was promising, so it’s still my oath.”

  “Oh, they knew.” She clenched her jaw, unconvinced. “But it doesn’t matter. You can do the most good here.”

  He pulled her closer, prying her folded arms apart and wrapping them around him. “You’re right, of course. But I want to stay here with you, brand or no brand, Devoted or no Devoted. Because it has nothing to do with any of that. It has to do with you. And that most certainly is against my oath.” She simply stared. Could the truth really be so simple? It was not that he’d intended to leave her without a word, but that he’d never intended to leave at all. She found herself hanging on each precious word, even if it pained her that those same hurt him a little too. “I saw that letter, and I gave no thoughts to duty or how best to defeat the Devoted. I didn’t care what my duty was. I didn’t care what the temple needed. I just knew I wasn’t leaving.”

  “Oath-breaking is about deeds, not motivations. So you have a personal interest. So what? You can still support your cause best here.”

  “If I had thought of all that myself, I’d be more encouraged. And Akaria doesn’t need me. My translation is done.”

  She straightened to look him in the eye. “We have barely a handful of mages, Ro! Don’t you see how dire this is?”

  “I don’t know any spells. What good will I do?”

  “I can teach you. If you want,” she said, suddenly tentative. “Or if not, I can use your energy. Even if you know nothing, you still make me twice as strong. Maybe more than that.”

  How true in spirit, as well as magic.

  “Oh, Jae. You don’t need to fight for me so hard. I’ve spent the last week making peace with it.”

  “And I’ve spent the last week worrying you were leaving me and plotting how to follow you.”

  He looked shocked for a moment, but recovered quickly. He squeezed her closer. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t think it mattered, since I wasn’t going to act on it.”

  “Well, I’m sorry I read it. I realized afterward I should have asked. It’s just there’s not much privacy in Mage Hall, and—”

  “No, I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all. And I’m sorry you worried. I had no idea you were worrying. I guess I can see it, now that you mention it.” There he went, laughing again. “I can’t believe you thought I would leave without saying anything.”

  “You’re very self-sacrificing. I thought that you wouldn’t want to put me in harm’s way, but that you might go even if you wanted to stay.”

  “Apparently not as self-sacrificing as you thought.” He winced again, chagrined.

  She pulled him into an embrace this time, and he buried his face in her neck and braids again. She ran her hand over his hair and down his back, calming him. She could feel him aching, though, in spite of all she’d said.

  “Listen, Ro,” she whispered into his hair. “I don’t know much about this whole faith thing. I haven’t had a good run with it, between me and the gods. But I take it that what the temple says matters a lot less to you than what the goddess says. So what does your goddess say to you?”

  He looked up at her, his eyes a mixture of wonder and sadness and hope. “That I would be spitting on all her gifts to walk away from you.”

  She laid her hand on his cheek, savoring the roughness of his stubble on her palm. “As would I. That’s why wherever you go, I’m going with you.”

  He snorted softly now, a crooked smile lighting his face.

  “Listen to your goddess, will you?”

  “All right,” he said softly, and as if following orders, he kissed her hard. She barely smothered a laugh.

  “I don’t care what some lying temple women say,” she said when he released her from that kiss. “I don’t think we belong apart.”

  “Yes,” he replied. “Especially not for at least the next three hours before lunch.” He jutted a chin at the bed and raised an eyebrow.

  A giddy laugh escaped her, and she finally started to let herself feel relieved.

  “Come here and let me see how selfless I can manage to be.”

  “SIRE!” Lord Dyon’s voice echoed up the hallway. Aven turned and waited, and Miara stopped by his side. T
heir guards halted like pillars of a temple around them. Waves of cold unease rolled off Miara, setting him on edge.

  Dyon jogged to catch up, his footfalls echoing mightily. “Good morning, Aven, Miara,” he said, breathless for a moment. A few lieutenants, including Jenec, lingered further up the hall, waiting for Dyon to return rather than joining them.

  Aven nodded crisply once, impatient for the message.

  “Good morning, Lord Dyon,” she said politely. Did she look paler than usual?

  “Sire, the southern stronghold. Derk just checked again at my request, and we discovered a single soldier collapsed before the door to the keep. The door stood wide open, and the keep looked dark inside. No other movement. I believe whatever’s happened there has gotten worse.”

  Hell. He’d been hoping for some positive news for once. Of course not. “What do you recommend, Lord Dyon?”

  “I think it’s time we paid them a visit, sire. If Lord Beneral and politics are satisfied.”

  Aven inhaled slowly, bracing himself. With the map only just translated, that didn’t leave much time to learn it. But he relished the idea of being out on the road with Miara again instead of in the palace. Ranok felt more like a trap than a stronghold with every passing day. Even if it might snow out there on the road.

  “We’ve delayed long enough,” Aven admitted. “I’ve got a regiment waiting for our instructions, and the royal guard. I’d prefer to get to the front line soon.”

  “As would I,” agreed Dyon. “I’d also prefer to know if we can count on any troops from the southern regiment at all. If we can’t, why haven’t the Kavanarians attacked it already? It’s been days, but their troops have hardly moved from the brief initial surge. It makes no sense.”

  “They must be waiting for something,” Miara said darkly.

  “But what?” said Aven. “Could it have anything to do with Thel? Information they hoped to gain?” Maybe they were waiting for everyone to die of whatever disease they’d infected the soldiers with. He shuddered at the thought.

  “Could be waiting for supplies or reinforcements from the interior,” offered Dyon.