by R. K. Thorne
Thel punched up the ground underneath the wooden foot of another trebuchet. It swayed like a tree in the wind for a moment before toppling to the ground. He grinned. That was nearly all of them.
“How many was that?” Niat asked, still sitting and watching quietly beside him.
“About a dozen, I think.” Truth be told, he wasn’t counting. He was trying to draw out the time between each collapse, hoping they seemed random. But since when did the earth randomly jut up under such a heavy piece of siege artillery? Never, really.
He glanced up at the path in the direction Kae had taken. The air mage hadn’t yet returned. Should he be worried?
A voice drifted up the path and made his blood run cold.
“There’s some mage up here, I’m telling you.”
He leapt to his feet, grabbing Niat’s arm. “We better move,” he whispered.
“They figured out what you were doing?” She hurried after him in Kae’s direction. Kae was an air mage, a warrior mage, much more experienced than Thel. If they had a chance, it was with him. In a handful of paces, they reached the next cliff outcropping, but Kae wasn’t there. He must have meant further on. Thel turned back to the trail to head further up.
A rustle in the brush beside him was the only warning he got. A bear roared out of the forest beside him, careening into him and sending him to the ground.
The creature’s massive weight pinned him instantly. Behind him, a man stepped from the forest. Sort of.
“What are you?” Niat whispered.
He had the body of a man, a cloak, a dagger in one hand. But above the cloak, large yellow-orange scales covered his skin up to serpentine eyes. His snout was distended like it could contain fangs, tiny holes on each side for a nose.
Creature mage, Thel realized, thinking faster now. Should he call out and warn Kae? Or would that just alert their enemies to the air mage’s existence? Right now they might think they’d caught everyone.
“Got ’em!” the snake-man called. He kept the dagger trained carefully on Niat but didn’t seize her. The bear gave a pleased, throaty growl, and Thel realized he, too, must be a creature mage. Of course. Of course.
Four more mages trotted up, three men and a woman with daggers in hand. “Well, that worked well.”
“Pincer move works every time,” said one, giggling and making a crab-like gesture. “Flush ’em out with one side and grab ’em with the other.”
“You—you’re no mage. What are you doing here?” Their leader, in a blue tunic and equally bright blue cape, jabbed his dagger at her.
“I—uh— He kidnapped me,” Niat blurted.
Oh, by the gods. Just when he thought she’d made a breakthrough. He didn’t even bother rolling his eyes.
“You can come back to safety with us,” said Blue. “Come on.”
“Wait a minute now,” said Snake-Man. “We could take our time. It’s nice up here.”
“Yeah, and we’ll get killed down there,” said Pincers. The two other newcomers and the bear remained quiet.
“Our orders—” started the leader.
“—include scouring these hills for more mages other than him,” said Snake smoothly. “Isn’t our fault if we’re so efficient. We better check we didn’t miss anyone.”
Blue shook his head. “Fine. Tie him up. You two, stay with him. Girl, come with us. Let’s go on a nice little stroll, shall we?”
“We haven’t got any rope,” complained Pincer.
“I have some!” Niat said helpfully, pulling out Alikar’s bolo, which had already taken Thel down once. He hadn’t realized she’d kept that. How considerate of her. “Here, let me help.”
They looped a string over his neck, and a heavy stone fell against his chest. He reached out to sense it and recoiled. Or, maybe, he just couldn’t reach out at all. It was like suddenly he couldn’t sense the rock anymore.
Pincer was smirking above him. “That’ll keep you from causing trouble.” Then he dragged Thel to a nearby tree and knocked him onto his side with a shove from his boot as Niat joined them. Giving her a nod, the mage stalked off past the tree. She helped Thel sit up, just as she had before. Then she knelt and tied his hands while Snake watched her carefully. But it was good and tight. No tricks from Niat. Thel shook his head.
“That way down the trail, now.” Snake strode toward the tree line, surveying the area around them.
For a moment there was only Bear beside them. His giant body faced the others and blocked Thel and Niat from the rest of the mages’ view. Niat, still kneeling beside him, hesitated to get up. He’d been refusing to meet her eyes lest he explode in anger, but he finally looked up now as he felt her gaze on him.
Their eyes locked, one heartbeat, another. And then, to his surprise, she leaned down and kissed him.
Alikar immediately sprang to mind, and he froze. Gods, she meant to not just get away from him but kill him too? What had he done to deserve this? She kissed him harder, though, her lips warm and smooth and soft against his, and he couldn’t resist. It was too late now anyway.
If he was going to die by a poisoned kiss, he might as well make it a good one.
His heart pounding, hoping the mages didn’t notice and the bear didn’t turn, he poured his heart into that kiss, all the fire he had to give her, in hopes that the bleakness would never return. That even without him, at the last minute, she’d think, I don’t deserve these traitors, and she’d take off, find a life of her own. Find freedom. Find happiness.
But it would have been nice if that happiness had been with him. She kissed him back almost as though she wanted the same thing.
It was the best kiss of his life. Even if it was going to kill him. Not that there were terribly many to compare. As the bear started to move, she broke away and rose casually. Like nothing had happened. That was smart, so why did it sting?
“What was that, mercy killing?” he said softly, glaring at her.
Her eyes flicked to his, the sadness in them deepening. She pushed her shoulders back and looked down the path.
“Don’t go back to the temple,” he whispered.
“What?” They’d notice if she dallied much longer, most likely.
“I understand you have to do what you have to do. But promise me you’ll find someone who’s not going to hurt you, if you can.”
She met his gaze evenly, the sadness suddenly gone, her eyes a cool and collected mask. “I already did.”
The words came off like snark. Of course. How many times had she thought she’d found someone who’d keep her safe, and it’d turned out to be untrue? More than he knew about, he was certain. He scowled after her as she tromped away down the path with the mages on patrol.
One smirked at him over her head. As she passed, he put a protective hand on Niat’s shoulder, and Thel could’ve put a canyon in the ground in front of the man out of spite—all right, jealousy if he was being honest—if it weren’t for the damn rock slung round his neck.
They turned, the man moving closer as they went around the bend.
“She’s promised to someone!” he yelled out of spite. The bear turned and looked at him, impassive, then looked back out over the cliffs, almost peacefully. Alikar was dead, of course, and already married, but they didn’t need to know that. He doubted Sven would be happy with Niat in the arms of any mage, noble or slave. Even if that mage was a prince.
He groaned, leaned his head back against the tree, and tried to memorize the taste of her, the feeling, to keep it long into old age.
If, of course, he lived that long.
Niat was breathing fast as a plan formed in her mind. She struggled to focus on the rocks and roots in the path and not trip over them. The handsy mage beside her was proving useful in pushing limbs out of the way and steadying her on the path, and she almost felt a little guilty at the thought of betraying him. But as his hand slid down from her shoulder blades toward the small of her back—and lower—she felt less guilty by the inch.
“Glad to get
away from that fellow?” the man said pleasantly.
Good. He hadn’t seen the kiss then. That had been needlessly risky. She wanted to rail at herself, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. There might not be another chance.
She pretended to stumble and grabbed on tighter to him for support, her right hand going naturally around his back too, now, much to his delight, and she slid her hand to his belt. A convenient way to hold on and nothing more, of course. “Oh, yes. I was terrified, I didn’t know what he would do,” she lied. “I’m never out in the woods without my mum.”
“Well, we’ll be back to your family safe and sound in no time,” he said smoothly, but there was the ring of deceit to his words too. He had no idea who her family was or where they lived, so she highly doubted he could guarantee that.
While some part of her knew that turning herself in was a wise thing to do, there was a much larger part of her that no longer cared. A rebellious part of her that had long lain in deep slumber, crushed somewhere between her father and the drugs and the visions.
But it was a part of her that Thel, with his determined optimism and frightening ability to sling rocks around, had somehow awoken. Maybe it was the corruption spreading to her. Maybe she didn’t care. If he was corrupt, then why had Nefrana sent her so damn many visions of him? Why had he practically spouted off Sister Ireie’s own words? Choose your own path.
He hadn’t even known her two weeks, she’d spent half of it denouncing him, and yet he had done more than anyone in her entire life to try to make her happy. If he was corrupt, the rest of the people in her life were even more corrupt, and they didn’t have magic as an excuse.
She wasn’t going to let these people capture him again or torture him or kill him or claim Nefrana told them that it was all perfectly justified to do.
She stumbled again, for real this time, and as she recovered, the mage caught her outside hand. She used the moment and the almost-embrace to slide her hand along his side—and slip the dagger from his belt sheath.
Treading along more slowly now, as if struggling to be careful, she frowned carefully down at the roots.
She closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself falter, and she cast her mind up desperately. Nefrana, gods, whoever you are, if you ever loved me, if you ever cared to help me, grant me a vision now. Some vision—any vision—I don’t care. Something that would debilitate her, throw them off guard. And when they thought she was sick and out of it—that was when she would strike.
Brick to the head, as usual. She fought to keep her hand tight around the dagger’s hilt, but she felt it slip from her hand with the last fragments of reality. Her body went limp and fell backward as a vision of a whole other world clouded her mind.
A bearded man lay in a bed, a woman in a chair asleep by his side. Her head had drifted to lie by his arm in an uncomfortable-looking position. A man came in and roused her, and whatever they said, it seemed bad news. The woman’s face contorted, threatened tears, but she straightened and visibly willed them away. They continued talking, their words impossible for Niat to hear. She stared at the bearded man instead, feeling a strange and unexpected kinship with him. She’d spent a lot of the last few months that way too, laid up, weak, half dead. She hadn’t had anyone at her bedside who cared though, save a priestess or two, and they had only been doing their duty. Did anyone even care that she hadn’t returned?
Before Niat’s own jealous and bitter tears could threaten, the vision shifted. The bearded man was well, partially armored, and on horseback, racing behind a woman dressed in dark leather, wisps of her red hair catching wildly in the wind. As she watched, an arrow slammed into his shoulder, his back. This must have been how he’d gotten injured.
The vision whirled again to an archer. A hard-faced man with a braided, straw-colored beard was also on horseback, but not riding. He was only paused—just for a moment, Niat sensed. He reached back to a second, smaller quiver. A beautiful green leaf pattern was painted on the top and sides, and he drew out an arrow, the tip of which gleamed a brownish-green.
Poison, Niat knew automatically. Not just any poison, but anfi, easily made from the heart-shaped leaves of the readily available wild anjunin vine. Peluna had taught her well, and she could see the leaves, the shape, the unfortunately simple preparation, the storage requirements, the antidote.
The man drew back the arrow and let it fly. Niat had already seen where it was going to land, and she winced, even though she was entirely unsure of whether this had already happened or would happen or would never happen at all.
And just like that, her vision cleared. Reality slammed back into unpleasant focus. Her head swam, and she stumbled for real now, everything tilting around her. The mages were in front of her, saying something, or maybe shouting, but her ears rang like she was inside a bell, like a thousand birds screeching, and she could hear none of it.
She collapsed back. Someone caught her. As they lowered her to the ground, the pack of the woman beside her swung awkwardly off her shoulder and bumped Niat, and she stared.
A bow was tied to the pack, as well as two quivers, the smallest of which was painted with a green, heart-shaped leaf pattern.
Niat lunged for the pack, just as the woman was rising, and of course, she missed. She feigned weakness, collapsing back onto the rugged trail, shutting her eyes.
It wasn’t really all that hard. For a moment, sleep crept closer. It’d be so easy to just fall into the blackness now. She was tired, so tired, they’d done so much, they’d fought so hard, she deserved a rest. She could still save Thel. She just needed a moment.
No.
The ringing faded, and she could hear their voices now. The weakness recessed slightly, but she kept her eyes carefully closed and her body unmoving.
“What the hell was that?” the man who liked to make crab claw gestures was muttering.
“Didn’t they say some seer was missing? She fits the bill.” The leader again. Of course he knew what was going on.
“We better haul her back,” said Handsy. Oh, how considerate of him. Likely just wanted a grope.
“I’m not carrying her,” the Crab shot back.
A thud sounded beside her, which Niat hoped was a pack hitting the ground.
“We don’t have time for this.” It was the woman now, who’d remained quiet for so long. “She’s light, look at her. A waif of a thing. Throw her over your shoulder, and be done with it.”
“If she’s so light, why don’t you do it?” said the Crab.
“You just want to stay here.” The leader sounded like he might be shaking his head.
“Damn right. Why are you so eager to return to the fighting?” the Crab man grumbled. Another pack dropped, and then a third.
“I’m not, I just— Brand’s telling me to return. This isn’t quite our orders, I—” The leader let out a soft sound somewhere between a groan and a growl.
“You just have to be creative,” Handsy assured him.
“Look, we had orders to scout this part of the woods. We can do that just as much from right here while we wait for her to wake up as we can from stalking around from tree to tree.” Crab Man was determined.
No one responded to the man for a moment. Then the woman growled, “I’m going to take a piss.” And leaves crunched as she stalked away.
Niat risked opening an eye just a crack. The leader, the Crab, and Handsy were staring each other down, glaring and ignoring Niat.
The pack with its green-leafed quiver lay near her feet.
Not close enough. She could lunge for it, but they’d be on her in a second. She needed some other plan.
She closed her eyes. Was she really going to do this? Three of them versus her, four if the woman rushed back, and she hoped to get her hand on one poison arrow and do them all in? Was she really ready to poison, injure, and kill these mages on Thel’s behalf, and her own? Or at least delay them long enough to get away and free Thel and run? That seemed much more likely. And Snake and Bear
were still back with Thel.
But what was really the alternative? Go back to being her father’s puppet? Her temple’s invalid? Waiting around until she was sold off to someone even worse than Alikar, a traitor who had already been married? By Nefrana, Thel was right. Maybe getting caught was inevitable, maybe losing was certain, maybe it would just be more painful in the long run.
Maybe she no longer cared.
She groaned loudly.
“Look, she’s waking up.”
“Oh, thank the gods.”
Rubbing her forehead, Niat struggled weakly to sit up. She wished the weak part were more of an act. “What happened?” she muttered.
“Come on, get up. We need to be on the road,” the leader snapped.
“Now is that any way to be hospitable?” Handsy said, his smooth exterior returned. He crouched down. “You just got a bit weak for a second there. Take all the time you need.”
The leader glared at his back, either because of Handsy’s clearly lecherous intentions or because the man just didn’t want to go back any sooner than he had to. Likely both.
Handsy smiled warmly at Niat, and she forced a smile in return. “I’m sure I’ll be fine in a moment or two,” she said as sweetly as she could.
He nodded once. “See—just a moment or two. Let’s see if we have anything to bolster your strength.” Smiling even more brightly now, he straightened and moved toward his pack. Both he and the leader bent and began shuffling through their packs, presumably looking for food. A regrettable kindness, but his ulterior motives made things slightly easier.
She reached for the quiver. The lid twisted open quietly, just like it had in the dream, and she kept her fingers silent and fast, daring as a mouse. Reaching in carefully, she felt the feathers of the fletching and quickly withdrew one arrow, setting it beside her before drawing another and twisting the lid closed.
Her heart pounded, and her weakened state left her feeling like the organ might actually explode out of her chest. Gripping the arrows like daggers, she took a deep breath. Was she really going to do this?
Yes. Yes, she was.