Star Mage

by R. K. Thorne

  I should grant her that—remind me. Wunik?

  They’d reached Aven’s rooms by now, and he headed for the couch that had been too much his refuge as of late. He wasn’t entirely surprised when Miara didn’t follow him and stopped by the fire instead, staring into the flames. He shooed away all the servants but Perik, who seemed to be better at staying nearby without making a fuss about it.

  As much as I hate to think it, Aven, she said silently after a long pause, I believe I should stay here. Someone needs to help Elise, get the mages together. And by then Dom and Devol will be here, right? We know we can trust them.

  He groaned inwardly. I knew it was too good to be true that we could get out of here together and back on the road. Okay, fine. You must be careful, though. Siliana can tell you what she found out from your attendants. With Devol here, it would help me worry less about staving off any further nefarious attempts on your life.

  If you’re worried about nefarious things, you should destroy that damn map.

  He gritted his teeth. The mental connection between them couldn’t hide the anger behind her words now.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” he said slowly, aloud now and hoping that would diffuse some of the tension.

  “Honestly?”

  “Of course.” When had he ever wanted anything but?

  “No, I’m not all right. I don’t believe you,” she said, almost sounding hurt. The mental connection between them dimmed, her pulling away from him slightly.

  At first, he simply stared in shock, but he recovered quickly. Staring blankly never helped much. “Why? About which part?”

  “How can you plan on using this magic?” she demanded. “I see your mind working. You’re thinking about it. And you’re not against using it. Put those together and what do you get?”

  “Of course I’m against using it. Do you think I’d have started any of this if I didn’t find slavery deplorable? But the map is a weapon like any other, no more evil than a sword.”

  She rounded on him now, and her eyes were fiery when she met his. “If you use those spells, Aven, we will see our own Dark Days. I don’t want the stories our children tell about you to be about—”

  She stopped short, and he sat back in surprise. They’d never talked about children before, although given who he was, he’d hoped she understood it was somewhat a given. This was far from the ideal time to bring it up for either of them. She turned away and stared down at the embers, her brow furrowed.

  He took a deep breath, stood up, and strode over to her, determined to reassure her. Her back was to him now, the curve of her neck naked and exposed below her bun. He hadn’t seen it like that in days, and for some reason, it felt suddenly like a very precious sight, something that he hadn’t realized could slip through his fingers when he wasn’t looking. He rested one hand on her shoulder, finding it warm and strong, and she didn’t flinch at his touch. He ran a finger down the side of her neck tenderly, trying to find the right words. “Miara, that won’t happen. I promise you. We won’t have our own Dark Days. If mages get to be free, we’ll have… something different. Something new, something good and bad at the same time. But I won’t bring what happened back then. We don’t even really know very well what happened. I just want to be prepared.” He rested his other hand on her other shoulder now, gently squeezing, trying to work out the tension like she had for him a few days ago.

  “You know I would never tell you magic is evil.” Her warm fingers slipped over his, and her eyes peered up at him over her shoulder, searching his face. Their deep brown was liquid and beautiful, but plaintive too. Still worried. “I’m the one who showed you how beautiful it could be in the first place, wasn’t I?”

  He nodded.

  “Then, please. Please. Listen to me. This magic is evil.”

  “I know. I believe you. I’ve got no plans to use it, but we must be able to defend ourselves.”

  “Aven,” she said gently, “you can’t believe that it’s evil, have no intention to use it, and also use it to defend us. One of those can’t be true.”

  He winced. “I truly don’t want to use it, but we can’t rule out the possibility that it might become necessary. If they use star magic, we need to be able to use its opposite, to undo its damage. It’s not evil to re-balance the world.”

  “Who are we to know if that’s what we’re doing?”

  His jaw tightened. “In this case, Miara, I’m very certain.”

  “All right, I know, maybe with enslavement. But with the other spells, that’s not so certain. Please, please, burn the map, Aven. Burn it. Let this knowledge die.” She turned slowly, forcing him to abandon her shoulders, but at least she was facing him now.

  “I can’t. I told you, I can’t,” he said gently. “Burning it won’t take the knowledge from the world, only from us. If Zaera recorded the star magic once, then she could have written down other things. Or written it down again. What are the chances she only wrote it one time?”

  “Aven…”

  “To defend ourselves, especially when we’re outnumbered, we must understand our enemy. Better than he understands himself.” A classic tenet, one that he held up in his defense more than he was sure he truly applied it.

  She gave him a long, hard look. He raised a hand to her cheek, and she leaned into it for a moment, closing her eyes. But then she pulled away, stepped back, taking his tenuous grip on reassurance with him. His gut wrenched, and ice shot through his veins.

  She was challenging him just as she should. And she thought she wouldn’t make a good queen? She was already the partner he needed. That didn’t make disagreement any more comfortable, though. Even on the road, they hadn’t disagreed much.

  “Miara—” he started.

  She held up a flat palm. “I… I just need some time to think about this.”

  “Let’s—” He reached out toward her again.

  “Some time alone. All right?” She waited for his slight nod, and then she turned and left the suite as he stared after her, the slight fear that had been pulling at the corners of his mind starting to unravel into panic.

  He took a deep breath and viciously tamped the emotions down. He didn’t have time for them. And technically, there was nothing to panic over. Just a simple disagreement.

  Didn’t everyone disagree sometimes?

  Try as he might, the thought didn’t make him feel any better.

  8

  Making Plans

  Straining his ears as hard as he could for the sounds of pursuit, Thel finished the small burrow into the mountainside and ushered Niat inside. The sweet smell of freshly disturbed earth wrapped around him as he sank to a seat beside her and began closing them in.

  Try as he might, he could no longer hear anything of the fortress behind them. Branches knocking in the wind and the creaks of tree trunks swaying, but nothing else. No shouts or footsteps. It was almost eerie.

  He and Niat hadn’t gone that far. Had their pursuers found Alikar—or Detrax, for that matter—and concerns over their health or lack thereof had taken precedence? Or perhaps there was simply no one telling them what to do.

  The hollow he’d created was barely big enough for both of them to sit in, but it was dry. And warm, thank the gods, although he wasn’t sure entirely why. Maybe it was just enough shared body heat; maybe some part of his magic was insisting on heating the earth around them. Whatever it was, it was a welcome change.

  He closed their hollow all the way except for a small opening at the top for air. By the gods, let no one notice. They still had to breathe.

  To his surprise now, Niat didn’t complain. Or even comment. She just stared wide-eyed and quiet at the earth closing around them.

  Between the warmth and the silence, Thel finally relaxed. He leaned his head against the dirt behind him and breathed deeply of the wet earth. He shut his eyes and just listened. Now his and Niat’s breathing were the loudest sounds, the quiet forest beyond murmuring in the background. The magic he’d wor
ked was much more elaborate than usual; he just needed a moment to recuperate.

  He must have nodded off, for he jolted awake at the sound of voices outside. Soldiers, and they were close. Footsteps crunched in the snow. He sucked in a breath and shifted, rubbing his eyes.

  Niat, too, jumped, and her head snapped up from where it had fallen against his shoulder. When had that happened? She must have fallen asleep too.

  Their bodies touched from shoulder to hip, and he pretended not to notice. It was cold, that was all.

  He focused on the sounds outside. Men calling commands, following their tracks in the snow. Dogs too, sniffing, huffing, barking.

  Footsteps, all the way up to the edge of the mountain.

  He held his breath. Niat was doing the same.

  The small opening above let in sunlight at only a slight angle—they couldn’t have been asleep for more than an hour or two. It hadn’t taken long for these men to catch up.

  “What do you make of this?” said one voice outside.

  “Of what?” returned another.

  “The trail ends here. Just slams into the side of the mountain.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “I know, but look.”

  “Don’t be stupid, you must be reading it wrong.”

  “Two pairs of boot prints are not hard to distinguish from animals, Leul.”

  The argument continued a while longer, but to no avail. The footprints were a mystery they couldn’t solve. Eventually the voices moved off, retracing their steps and certain they must have made a mistake. He breathed a deep sigh of relief.

  “You all right?” he whispered.

  Nodding, she dropped her head back onto his shoulder. He kept his ears sharp, but all he noticed now was the sound of Niat’s breaths slowing as she dozed off again.

  Thel blinked in the relative darkness of their hiding spot, rubbing his face with his free hand so as not to disturb her head on his shoulder. He didn’t like to admit it, but he liked the feeling of her against him, the light pressure of her head on his shoulder. In spite of all they’d been through, her scent was sage and ocean. Her eyes had flashed like lightning as he’d dragged her through the barracks tunnels. He liked it when she was angry, because then there was fire in her eyes, and passion, and purpose. Not the bleak, hopeless despair that consumed her otherwise, the look that made him feel like she was drowning and he needed to save her but couldn’t quite reach her hand. Even now, he could imagine putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. Just to keep warm. Nothing more. Nothing amorous. He just had a moderate, reasonable amount of sympathy. Any reasonable person would feel the same way.

  She was a traitor; he obviously couldn’t feel anything more than that for her. Although it did seem her father had put her in a terrible, inescapable position. And she was absolutely sure he was evil. There was really no excuse for that, as he’d been nothing but kind. If his actions hadn’t proven his worth to her, nothing would.

  But she sighed in her sleep, very softly, and he had to admit any ill will he’d felt toward her was gone. Strange. What actions of hers had caused this? Was it her words? Her proximity to him in this tiny, warm cave and the feeling of her body against his, only insufficient fabric between them? He doubted it was just her presence; it was perfectly possible to feel attracted to someone and still hate them.

  He took another deep breath, tasting the warm, humid, earthy air around him. He’d watch the sun. Another hour, maybe two, and they’d get out of this hole and do their best to get the hell away from here.

  A young man slunk to a stop in the doorway of Marielle’s outer parlor, and Daes beckoned him inside. He eyed the boy like prey. He would do. Daes had brought only a few mage slaves with him to Evrical, and this one was not of the rebellious type, although he was a creature mage like the escaped one. He also wasn’t particularly keen to please, which helped. Daes could never stand to be around the obsequious ones for long. Let Seulka keep them. This one was more… apathetic.

  “I have questions,” Daes said coldly as he glanced over his shoulder. Marielle should be arriving soon, but something had occurred to him.

  “Yes, my lord,” the young man replied.

  “There was an attack on Trenedum Palace at one point. Did you hear of it?”

  “I was there with you, my lord,” he said.

  “Those who attacked,” he carefully never mentioned they were mages to his slaves, “they arrived at Trenedum in the middle of the night but were in a city two day’s ride away the next. How is that possible? Could they have done something to their horses?”

  “I can’t say I know anything that could make a horse make a two-day journey in half a day,” the mage said. “Nothing that would be comfortable to ride on, sir.”

  “Then how?”

  “Perhaps transformation. With creature magic, my lord. Change each of the people into a harmless, small animal and carry them.”

  “Carry them how?”

  “The mage could transform into something large and winged. A bird can travel much faster than a horse. Could make a two-day trip in a few hours.”

  “Is that so?” Daes raised his eyebrows. “What kind of small animals?”

  The man shrugged. “Rats. Snakes. Spiders.”

  Daes winced at the thought of becoming any of those. “And you could do this?”

  The young man nodded, looking tired. “Of course, my lord. Any creature mage could.”

  “Hmm. We’d still have our things to move, coming behind us,” Daes said, thinking aloud. “Can you change the trunks into animals too?”

  “Afraid not, my lord. Another creature mage might be able to carry them and fly, but… they also might not.”

  Daes nodded and rubbed his hands together, glancing back over his shoulder for Marielle again. What was keeping that woman? He was ready to be on the road.

  He turned and appraised the young man again. Daes didn’t have the mage-knots with him; they were still at Mage Hall in the Tall Master’s hands. And that was probably the safest place for them. As a result, he couldn’t compel the man to listen to him quite as strongly, but the fellow did seem to be of a docile sort. An average command should be enough.

  “Let’s see what we can do, shall we?” Daes grinned, almost annoying himself at his own cheerfulness. But he was ready to be out of this den of snakes and on the field with swords and men.

  Even if that meant being transformed into a rat. There was a first time for everything.

  Kae trudged along a quietly burbling stream, the furs and cloaks he’d managed to gather—or surreptitiously “borrow”—swinging around him. Flecks of water or snow flew off from time to time, hitting a nearby log or boulder. He was getting warm enough; he’d probably stop soon. Gods, when would he reach Anonil? Or at least Akaria? He had little idea where he was relative to the border, except that he knew he had continuously gone east and successfully avoided the roads. He used farsight from time to time, but even that glorious magic couldn’t tell him quite where the border was without a map.

  He was used to living off the land, but he was ready for a break. A city. An inn. Maybe all his days in Mage Hall had made him soft. How long had it been, ten years or eleven now? How could he have lost count? But he supposed it didn’t matter. He’d never had any hope of going back before, and even now he held it weakly. It would be nice to see his father again, but he’d have to get the old buzzard to somehow come to Akaria—if Kae could even get word to him. If he was even still alive, Kae thought with more sadness.

  Royals had always taken a cut of the harvest on the farm. That had always left them on the edge of starvation before the winter was half over, which had given Kae plenty of experience trapping animals and finding the nooks and crannies of what the forest could provide to eat. Late fall was easy compared to early spring, when deer and other animals had already picked everything over. He wasn’t against bark stew to survive, but he wasn’t going to go seeking it out if there were other options.


  He marched along. He’d have to reach Akaria soon, even if he didn’t hit the city at first. Four days of hiking and he should be close. One disadvantage of avoiding the roads was that roads led you straight to cities. Farsight had told him the general direction of Anonil and how to avoid as much civilization as possible, but mostly he preferred to conserve his energy and follow the sun.

  With the book he carried, and all its dark secrets, he’d rather die of eating the wrong insect out in the wilderness than risk getting caught.

  Speaking of civilization and avoiding people, two voices caught his ears up ahead. He hunkered down behind a tree and listened.

  “We’re going to die out here.” A female voice.

  “No, we’re not.” A man, his voice tired.

  Peering around the tree trunk to get a glimpse at them, Kae had to say he agreed with the woman. The two travelers were hardly dressed for the winter weather. Cloaks were the only wise thing they had, and only one small satchel between them. No packs, no warm clothes. They looked better dressed for a court function than hiking in the woods, although they were very dirty.

  The man sat down in a clearing near the base of a large, wide pine. A few minutes passed in silence, until the snow around him began to turn gray. It was melting.

  Mages! By the gods, a stroke of luck. Finally. The man was warming the earth to keep them from freezing. That sure sounded good right about now.

  “Ho, there!” Kae called out, still in his hiding place.

  The man opened his eyes, suddenly tensing. “Who’s there?” He glanced around. “Who are you?”

  “Might you know a mutual friend?” Kae called back. “One Miara Floren?” If they didn’t know her, he was heading the other direction fast.

  The man’s eyes lit with recognition. The woman showed none. “I know her,” he said cautiously. “She’s marrying my brother.”

  Kae’s eyebrows rose at that. “And you’re mages, too?”

  “I am,” said the man. He heard no response from the woman.