Mark of the Mage: Scribes of Medeisia Book I

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Mark of the Mage: Scribes of Medeisia Book I Page 27

by R.K. Ryals


  Chapter 25

  “Stone,” someone whispered.

  A hand moved me, and my eyes sprang open. My head was against Kye's shoulder, and he was shaking me gently.

  “It's time,” he breathed into my ear.

  I sat up, my eyes going to the camp. It was almost dark, fog weaving in through the trees where the cooler air was meeting the warm. Fires were being lit in the camp beyond, a larger pyre in one corner quickly catching my eye.

  I shifted. My legs felt damp where they'd rested on the ground, and I knew it wouldn't be too long before I'd need to relieve myself. We'd stopped often on our run through the forest to meet our basic needs, but there was no time now. I wondered if my current urge to pee was more out of fear or an actual need. I held it.

  “What now?” I whispered.

  Kye fastened the green cloak he'd pulled on earlier and pulled the hood up over his head. It looked almost black in the darkening forest, and his figure mysteriously disappeared among it.

  “We'll be ghosts,” he whispered back. “I need a distraction. Can you climb into the trees?”

  I nodded. The month he'd been gone, I'd gone up into the trees often with my bow, but even if I hadn't, I knew the trees would help me.

  “Good,” Kye said. “Climb high. I'll signal the trees when I'm ready, and once they alert you, I want you to shoot an arrow into the camp. Create a distraction, and then move to another tree. Don't stop, keep moving. Shoot another arrow if you can, but if the soldiers get too close, just keep moving. I'll use the distraction to release the prisoners, and then I'll find you. Understand?”

  I nodded, my heart beating rapidly.

  Kye found my hand in the dark and grasped it.

  “We'll get them out,” he promised.

  I believed him.

  “Go,” Kye ordered. “There will be no time once the pyres are built.”

  He released my hand, and I moved away, scrambling up a tree a few feet away from him. I was still groggy, and I slipped once in the darkness. A limb came up behind me, urging me farther upward. I cursed Kye in my head for waking me so late, but I understood why he did it. This way I had no time to be afraid, no time to second guess myself. I was running now on adrenaline.

  “Stay focused,” the trees advised.

  Their words were easier said than done. Anxiety ate away at my gut. Sweat beaded up along my brow and upper lip.

  “This is good,” I told myself once I had a decent view of the camp.

  Soldiers were gathered around the pyres and wagons. I waited, my eyes searching. I needed to shoot when no one was looking and low enough into the group below, no one would immediately suspect the trees.

  “Kye is ready.”

  I crouched low on the thick limb that held me, removing my bow before reaching for an arrow. I strung it, my focus on the camp. I couldn't make a mistake now.

  It was only my breath, the soldiers, and me. All of them were distracted, a few laughing with the ladies who were gathered to watch the night's entertainment. The rest were building the second of three pyres meant to burn the mages or scribes within the prison wagon. I clenched my jaw and pulled the arrow back, my eyes narrowed. The only light came from swinging lanterns and small cook fires.

  I found my target. My arrow flew. Chaos ensued. Women screamed and soldiers shouted.

  “It came from there, it did!” a man yelled. I didn't look to see where he pointed.

  I looked up into the trees.

  “Help me,” I breathed.

  Immediately, I was lifted, branches and limbs moving me quickly three trees away. I held tight to my bow as soldiers ran through the brushwood below.

  “I swear it came from here!” the voice from before yelled.

  I sat still, holding my breath as I prayed to Silveet for Kye and the prisoners. Please let them get away!“

  “Run!” someone called out.

  The screams from the camp grew louder.

  “What is it?” one of the soldiers cried.

  “A pack of wolves! By the gods, it's a bloody pack of wolves.”

  Oran. I gripped the tree where I hid. It was growing quieter below me, and I was lifted into the air again.

  “We must hurry,” the trees said.

  I struggled. “Kye . . . Nikalia . . .”

  “They are free.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “It came from the trees, it did. I know it did!” The soldier below, but slightly behind us, was insistent.

  And then I heard it, the low, menacing voice of the sorcerer captain who'd ordered Aigneis burned. I'd know his voice anywhere.

  “Then burn the trees!” the captain ordered.

  A cold sweat broke out across my forehead as my body went numb. The trees! No!

  I was lowered to the ground some distance away. A leaf covered branch swept the top of my head.

  “We'll be fine, child. Go.”

  I stumbled backward, my eyes wide in the darkness. Hands fell to my shoulders.

  “Stone,” Kye said in my ear.

  A pent up sob escaped me.

  “The prisoners?” I asked.

  His hands tightened. “They are safe. The wolves have them. They are leading them to the rebel camp. You did well. We must go.”

  I turned on him. “They are going to burn the trees. They are going to burn them to find me!”

  I whisper-yelled the words, and one of Kye's hands came up to take my chin in his palm.

  “Remember what I told you before in the rebel camp? The innocent will die for the innocent, Stone. There is nothing we can do to stop it.”

  There were tears on my cheeks now. I could feel them, and I didn't answer him. I couldn't. My heart broke as he released my chin and took my hand, pulling me into the forest away from the soldiers. Nikalia was safe. I was grateful for that.

  We began to run, the forest helping us when it could.

  And then the first tree's screams tore through my head, and I stumbled, my hands going to my temple.

  “No!”

  I dropped my bow. Kye picked it up and threw it onto his back before placing an arm around my waist.

  “We have to go, Stone.”

  The trees were screaming. They were screaming! They were in pain all because they'd hid me, sheltered me.

  “Stone!” Kye insisted.

  I let him guide me away, the screams causing my head to throb. It was agony. Pure agony. It brought back other memories. Aigneis. Screams. So many screams!

  “Stone,” Kye said again, but this time I didn't move.

  I stood planted to the ground, my anger palpable.

  “How many will the captain burn before he is satisfied?”

  My voice was cold. The night lit up. Lightning tore across the sky.

  Kye watched it. “There's a storm coming, Stone. We need to go.”

  The trees' screams continued. I still didn't move, my eyes following Kye's to the sky. Anger coursed through my veins, and I thought, “No, I won't let them do this!” More lightning lit the night. My anger. Lightning. My eyes widened. Could it be?

  “Rain,” I whispered. “Make it rain.”

  A drop of water hit my nose. Kye moved closer.

  “Stone?” he asked, his voice incredulous.

  “Harder!” I cried. “Rain harder!” Sorcerer or no sorcerer, fire could not be maintained in a downpour.

  Rain pelted down, soaking us to the skin in seconds. Relief flooded me. I'd made it rain. The trees' screams were quieting, the water extinguishing the fire. I'd made it rain!

  “By the gods,” Kye whispered. “You are the One.”

 

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