Seeking Sorrow (Guardians of Terath Book 1)

by Zen DiPietro

  Izzy joined them. The reader didn’t offer a greeting, but studied each of them in turn. Kassimeigh and Luc watched Will expectantly.

  “We’ll leave immediately. Camp remains here. Take supplies only for battle or immediate needs. Luc, I leave the manahi to you, but of course, you’ll be specially tasked, considering the nature of this fortress.”

  “I’ll find Arc.” Kassimeigh strode in the direction of her tent. It was his tent too, currently, as he hadn’t taken the time to set up one of his own.

  Will hesitated, then asked Luc, “If we needed her to, could she . . .” He trailed off, unwilling to finish his thought aloud.

  “Do what she did before?” Luc finished. “She has the ability, but not the control. If she took it on, it’s possible none of us would survive. Best we not chance it, given any other option,” he counseled dryly, then strode away to address his own preparations.

  Left to themselves, Izzy and Will looked at each other. “Don’t look at me,” she remarked. “I’m not taking on any armies in her place.”

  Finding no reply, Will focused his attention on his handcomm. He entered a message that would reach all the troops. When he returned the device to his pocket, he found the reader still watching him.

  “What?” He knew she’d sense his peevishness, but he didn’t worry about it. If she was going to stare at people, she should expect them to be annoyed.

  “Nothing.” She leveled a last look at him and twisted away.

  He’d grown to know her much better, and quite like her as well. But sometimes she still perplexed him.

  Kassimeigh was glad that Arc and Izzy held a safer position at the back of the pack of carts. The troops had mobilized and now angled toward the structure the scouts had spotted. As Will’s second in command, she rode with him near the front of the company. The manahi had taken the lead. Luc and the other six filled three carts. Each vehicle had a driver with no mana ability, so that the manahi could concentrate solely on the things that only they could do.

  The battalion pressed forward as quickly as prudence and uneven landscape allowed. They drove down into the topographical basin and the fortress suddenly emerged from the landscape. The scouts had attempted to describe the peculiarity of seeing a sleek, carefully constructed building standing against the stark background of Apex. Their narrative had done nothing to ease the jarring strangeness of the sight. Kassimeigh stared at the fortress, as though a longer look would somehow give her a better understanding of what she saw. It didn’t.

  When all of the carts rolled to a stop, the scouts sat glowering at the fortress while Will, Kassimeigh, and the manahi regrouped.

  “Assessment?” Will wasted no time on unnecessary words.

  “Strong mana,” Luc affirmed. “Odd, though. It’s not a mana signature. It’s like everything here has been touched by very strong mana, to the point of distorting any underlying signatures. Perplexing. We can’t say with certainty there’s no manahi inside. It’s unlikely, but possible that someone with minor talent is hiding beneath the larger aura of this place.”

  Will’s jaw tightened. “Front line will charge. Mana-holders, right behind. Luc, use your hand comm to send me a message if anything changes.” Without waiting for a reply, he began giving orders to the lieutenants in charge of each quadrant.

  Kassimeigh’s fledgling mana skills allowed her to sense the mana Luc had described, but she failed to discern the nuances he’d explained. She wondered how long it would take for her to refine her skill to that degree.

  Moments later, the carts rolled at maximum velocity, eating the distance between the battalion and the fortress. Although it was only a single story, the structure seemed to loom over them as they approached. At the designated point, the troops, already equipped with armor and weapons, launched from the carts and rushed the fortress. The manahi remained just behind the front line, while the archers brought up the rear. Kassimeigh led the right front quadrant, just in front of the manahi, while Will led the left.

  There was only one entrance. Kassimeigh sensed a glow of mana from the building. This close, she better understood what Luc had described. Her sense of the other manahi had dimmed, as if the mana from the fortress overshadowed them. She saw them, though, banded together and focused on the huge, double-doored entrance.

  Kassimeigh cautiously threaded her mana awareness into the aggregate, without pushing mana into the surging well of power.

  Kassimeigh felt the wellspring of controlled mana growing, rising, and beginning to spill. All the while, the combined skills of the manahi kept the flow masterfully controlled. She experienced every second of the experience as an encyclopedia of comprehension.

  The surge of interlinked mana rose with the enormity of a tidal wave and the precision of a surgeon’s knife. Just as the point of the instrument touched the double door, both sides of it flew open.

  As one, the manahi withdrew the power. The doors swung out without their intervention and without any mana. Someone had simply activated the opening mechanism from within.

  A tall wisp of a young woman tripped several halting steps over the threshold of the fortress. Kassimeigh sensed mana on her, though it didn’t feel like the mana originated from the girl herself. She noted the woman’s frailty and obvious confusion. Her foot failed to find adequate purchase and skittered aside, causing her to totter and drop to the ground. Working in tandem, the manahi placed a barrier of mana around the woman. Protected from the throng of troops that now split in front of her and converged behind her, the woman pushed herself up with her hands, then slid back down to the ground, apparently insensate.

  Luc’s team of manahi entered the fortress among the troops. Only Kassimeigh, Izzy, and the archers remained outside.

  The reader and the justice approached the limp woman together. Both remained silent as they studied her with their own innate methods.

  “Disoriented, confused, weak, and possibly ill,” Izzy diagnosed. “Frightened.”

  “Clearly, she’s malnourished,” Kassimeigh observed. “Far too thin for her height. There’s mana on her, but it isn’t coming from her. I’m concerned I might damage her if I probe too hard. I’ll leave that to Luc or one of the others.”

  They kept a small distance between her and them and shifted their attention to the fortress. The initial battle yells and grunts had changed to a general ruckus, which diminished after several minutes. Eventually, the battalion filed out of the structure. They stomped past Kassimeigh and stood in agitated clusters.

  Izzy spotted Carston and stepped forward to meet him. “What happened?”

  “A handful of lopsided monsters, and a whole lot of empty space.” Carston hadn’t even broken a sweat.

  Kassimeigh recognized his sizzling dissatisfaction. Izzy shifted her weight so her hip brushed against his. She rested her hand on his arm.

  He focused on her and some of the tension dropped from his shoulders. He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Will I see you for dinner?”

  She let her weight sway, pressing her hip more firmly against his before pushing away from him. “Whenever that will be, sure. It’s a date.” She rejoined Kassimeigh.

  Their brief exchange had an obvious effect on Carston. Kassimeigh saw the set of his shoulders relax. His fisted hands uncurled. She knew personal relationships had transformative effects, particularly during stressful situations. Her attention wandered to the troops milling about near the carts. She knew Arc was over there somewhere.

  Chapter 12

  The fortress was all theirs. Only twelve of the creatures had inhabited the fortress. They’d been quickly dispatched with the enthusiasm of a few hundred troops who’d been anticipating all manner of the worst. Now they were left with lots of space and unspent aggression.

  Kassimeigh admired how Will went to work, pulling the troops into phys
ical labor. He sent some to survey the surroundings and keep a watch. Others worked at forming barracks within the fortress. Kassimeigh did not hate the idea of sleeping in warmed rooms instead of cold tents, and neither did anyone else. A last contingent of troops went to break down the camp and bring back the supplies.

  The young woman had not yet recovered from her stupor. Once the commotion ended, Izzy and Luc had attended her. Luc had directed Carston to deposit her in a small room with a plain, narrow bed. The mana shield around her had been removed, given that the experienced manahi found her unthreatening. For now, there was no apparent reason to force her to consciousness. She could take the time to recover naturally, unless the immediate circumstances within the fortress changed. Kassimeigh could only wonder what she would tell them when she woke.

  This left time to explore. The fortress was large and thoughtfully laid out with many rooms, both big and small. There was ample space for the troops to spread out comfortably. The kitchen, dining, and bathing amenities all proved acceptably modern and comfortable, though the place had fewer bathrooms than such a large group would prefer to have. Still, the conditions were infinitely better than roughing it on Apex dirt. The kitchen was fairly well stocked and just waiting for a few brave souls to inhabit it and begin producing some decent meals for the battalion.

  After the initial letdown of finding no epic battle awaiting them, the troops’ collective mood seemed to rebound. They’d gained the fortress, made themselves comfortable, and suffered barely a scratch in the process. Considering the odds they’d expected, in hindsight, it proved quite the coup. The battalion’s energy evolved into something nearly celebratory.

  Izzy and Carston had taken their dinners and retreated somewhere within the fortress, and Luc dined with the manahi. Kassimeigh and Arc seized the opportunity to carve out some time and space to themselves.

  “After being together with a few hundred people, I don’t mind a bit of privacy,” he admitted.

  “Agreed. I’m relishing a bit of relative quiet.” A loud crash suggested some rowdiness from the troops. An impromptu bout of sparring, perhaps. “Well, I did say relative.”

  “How are you doing otherwise? Working with the other mana-holders.”

  She appreciated his concern. Until recently, Izzy had been the only person in her life who inquired about her feelings. It felt nice to have someone care about her well-being. It felt even nicer that the someone was Arc.

  “It’s easier than I expected. They’re all very friendly and put me at ease. I was comfortable taking their direction and beginning to learn from them.”

  “Is it different than learning another skill, such as bladework or . . . net weaving?”

  “Net weaving? Really?”

  “I was trying to think of something simple and crafty. I guess I panicked.” His grin did not match the distress he claimed.

  “Do you know how to weave nets?”

  “Sure. Sometimes you’re out in the wild, living off the land and you need a net. You use what you have. That’s part of the challenge of living by your wits.”

  “Hmm. Net weaving. You’ll have to show me sometime. Anyway, yes, learning to weave mana is different from learning to weave nets. Totally different skillsets involved.”

  “Tell me.”

  “One is fingers and hands and string, or twine, or whatever. The other is kinetic energy and inertia, mental discipline and wild power, push and pull.” She hoped it made sense to him. The tangle of skills and sensations involved with mana use was difficult to describe, and this was her first attempt at doing so.

  “Do you like working with mana, or is it something you’re doing because you have to? Since it would be a bummer if you accidentally blew up the monorail system or something.”

  She smirked at him but considered the question. She liked Arc’s interest in her perspective, and his ability to identify questions she hadn’t yet thought to ask herself.

  “I do like it, actually. I don’t think I realized it because I was approaching it as a necessity, but I do. Given our common purpose, and the other manahi’s expertise, we work together seamlessly. Hardly any words are needed because we can sense each other’s mana and the energy becomes a form of communication itself. It’s really quite extraordinary. There’s a synergy I’ve never experienced and can’t even truly describe.”

  She paused to consider the unity with the other manahi. “I’m very fortunate to have them to lean on while I get a handle on my abilities. Imagine if I’d accessed my mana without that resource nearby. I feel like years of study slide into my blood just by interlinking with them.”

  “That must really be something.”

  “It’s incredible. It’s as if I suddenly grew an extra set of arms. Or a pair of wings. I lived my whole life experiencing the world one way and now, there’s this other dimension that changes everything.”

  “Then your ability to hold mana has changed how the world looks to you?”

  “Definitely. I see possibilities I didn’t before. My view of the world, my interaction with it and everything on it, has changed. The more familiar I become with sensing mana, whether it’s inert mana, or someone’s mana signature, the more unbelievable it is that I was oblivious to it before.”

  “What about those of us who are still oblivious to it? Do we seem lacking, compared to those of you who are aware it?”

  “No. In a way, I kind of feel sorry for them, because they’re not getting the full picture of what’s right there in front of them. But then that’s always the case, isn’t it? We’re all shaped by what we can and can’t do. Some people never have the coordination to be great at a sport, no matter how they might like to. And some wish they had the intelligence to do something grand but struggle to get through the basics of learning. Their lives aren’t comparatively lesser. They have their own particular attributes, such as an amazing singing voice or the ability to tell a great story.”

  “So you don’t mind that I’m just a non-mana-sensing dullard?”

  She smiled at the thought of him being a dullard, but wasn’t going to polish his already-shiny-enough ego.

  “Well, not enough to call you names or anything.”

  “What a relief.” He pretended to wipe sweat off his brow. “I do have another question.”

  “Okay.”

  “You said your mana ability was like growing wings. You really did grow wings. What was it like?”

  She let out all of her breath in a whoosh. She cast her thoughts back to what happened at the ridge. “Electrifying. Agonizing. Having all the mana tearing through me was like flaming needles ripping open all of my veins and boiling my blood. I burned with so much life I was an instant away from death.” She pulled in a quick breath at the memory. It wasn’t something she enjoyed recalling.

  “But the flying. That was fun, right?”

  All the tension fled her and she laughed. “Oh, yes. Super fun.”

  “And the fire breathing. That had to be pretty great.”

  “Sure, other than the agonizing torture, it was awesome.” She shook her head, laughing.

  So many people would be envious, fearful, or distrusting. Arc was so open and guileless, supportive and warm. He had the most amazing way of taking care of her feelings, of easing any strain.

  She felt a sudden shock in her chest, realizing she felt lucky to get a chance to love him. Not that she was ready to admit it out loud, because it implied a dependence she didn’t know how to weave into her life just yet. With her gaze locked with his, though, she was pretty sure he knew how she felt without having to voice it.

  Unlike most men, he didn’t capitalize on the moment. He handed her a plate. “When I raided the pantry, a blade named Justin was just pulling a loaf of bread out of the oven. I dropped your name and managed to score the whole thing. Good thing you’re famo
us now.”

  Kassimeigh laughed. He was so easy. She took the plate and let herself lean into him. The hum of belonging networked through her nerve endings and opened her heart.

  In the kitchen, Azure Keats took advantage of her time away from Kassimeigh’s training sessions to revel in the comforts of a well-stocked pantry. It wasn’t how she’d normally spend her evening hours, but then, little of the recent days had consisted of what she’d consider “normal.” She felt as though she’d experienced the existential equivalent of a psychotic break. Perhaps she should catch up with the blue-haired reader and discuss that sensation with her.

  “Look at all this flour.” Justin Trane ogled the bounty they’d discovered. The pantry stood at the far end of the spacious kitchen and resembled a warehouse more than a cupboard. Shelves rose from floor to ceiling and practically groaned under the weight of supplies. He’d shared Azure’s surprise when they opened the door and revealed the largesse. Azure wondered how much time and mana had been spent in stockpiling all of it.

  Azure Keats chuckled at Justin’s delight in baking supplies. He was tall, well-built, and wiry, and he had the broad shoulders she liked on a guy. He didn’t look like someone who would cheer about baking soda, but she’d embraced the unexpected and found him good company.

  “How much bread can you make with all this?” She knew her way around a kitchen but had never done much baking. She was game to learn, though. Three hundred-ish people ate a lot of food, so someone needed to pitch in. Might as well be her. She could help recruit others, as well.