The Caste Marked

by Mariah Esterly

  “I wish we didn’t have to go,” she mumbled, stretching. Reks left his packing and came to kiss her.

  “Me too, but we do need to leave. And that means that you need to get out of that bed.” He yanked the blanket of her and she shrieked. Her underthings and robe hit her in the face, followed by a small paper packet. Serra sat up and picked up the packet. “What’s this?”

  “It's a medicine that will keep you from getting pregnant.”

  She stared at him for a moment. He said it so casually, it was disconcerting. Serra dropped the packet to bed and stood up, pulling on her underthings and the robe. She looked around to find Reks watching her. “What’s wrong?”

  Serra crossed her arms over her chest, wanting desperately to tell him everything was fine. But that would have been a lie. “Were you carrying this medicine around just in case?”

  “What?”

  “Well, I don’t know! You just threw it at me, so you must have already had it. Did you pack it before you left Nemia, just in case you had sex with someone? Or did you pick it up somewhere along the way because you knew this was going to happen?”

  “Easy there, love. Did I know? No. Hope? Gods, yes.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs moving in slow circles. “I went out this morning, while you were snug in bed and picked it up. We’re damn lucky that they had some in stock and that they were willing to part with as much of it as they did. I fully intend to require the use of this later.” His eyes travelled up and down her body.

  She flushed, feeling warmth pool in her belly. Serra picked up the packet and eyed it. “How do I take it?”

  Reks took the envelope from her, measured out a small amount into a glass of water, and brought it to her. She drank it in a couple gulps and handed the glass back to him.

  The sound of footsteps in the hallway reached them. “I had better get back to my room,” she said, suddenly feeling awkward. Reks strode to the door and peeked out before motioning Serra forward. He dropped a lingering kiss on her lips before pulling the door open all the way and pushing her in the hall, closing the door behind her.

  Serra stood for a minute, feeling the effects of his kiss, before hurrying down the hall to her room.

  She dressed quickly and tossed the few items that she had yet to pack into her saddlebags, before joining the others downstairs for breakfast.

  Mistress Bina bustled around them, making sure they all had enough to eat. “Take another fruit tart, Sylvan. More eggs, Rian? Vaughn, give some of those potatoes to Serra. Look at her skin and bones!” Serra only shook her head when Vaughn moved to do as the older woman bid.

  “I’ll go see to the horses.” she said, standing. She felt like her friends could tell what had happened between her and Reks the night before. It was silly, she knew. Had she not seen Rian go into Sylvan’s room, she would have no idea what had occurred between them.

  Mistress Bina’s son, Ruford, was in the stables. Serra helped him to lead the five horses out of their stalls and into the bright sunny morning. The familiarity of the work soothed Serra, helped her to keep from thinking about Reks. By the time the others had joined her outside she was able to greet them in a normal way, though she avoided looking at Reks.

  They mounted up. Mistress Bina handed Sylvan one last pack, full of food no doubt, and they rode out of the village. When they passed the church, Serra noticed the old Venerate with the young eyes standing in the window. She raised her hand in farewell and he did the same.

  Chapter 27

  HIS ROYAL MAJESTY

  The messenger from Brencis and Hawksong Peak, knelt in front of him, his black wings folded behind him. The king read the report from General Latimer, then handed it to Edwin on his right, flicking his blue eyes to the still kneeling sylph.

  “You saw this shifter?” The messenger nodded, not raising his eyes. “And you saw my son in her company?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  He could feel the anger rising in him again. He’d thought that the dryads were his enemy, had declared war on them. But now it seemed that this shifter was the problem instead. You made a mistake, but you can’t let them know, the anger in his heart whispered. You must stand by your threat of war.

  He nodded at the anger. It was right. He couldn’t afford to appear weak, doing so would be a threat to his country.

  Edwin placed a hand on his shoulder. “Your Majesty, this report makes it sound as though Doran was in the company of this shifter willingly. That they were companions.”

  The king shook his son’s hand off, giving him a withering stare. “Whether he is with the shifter of his own volition or not, we must still find them. A shifter has great power and can only serve to aid us in our war against the dryads.” His attention flickered back to the kneeling sylph. “You said that they were heading south?”

  “Yes, though from Hawksong Peak there is nowhere to go, but south.”

  Insolence! The anger growled. How dare he speak to you thus? He must be punished.

  The King shook his head. As tempting as it was, they could not afford a war with the sylphs and the dryads.

  He turned to his clerk, lingering on the edge of the room. “Put the word out to all corners of the country. We are seeking the shifter and will pay handsomely for her.”

  Chapter 28

  SERRA

  They did not talk much during the next few days, there was very little to say. When they stopped for the night they huddled around the fire, trying to keep warm. Sylvan’s protective circle helped, but the chill in the air was still biting. Serra tried to convince Reks and Vaughn to train her, but both agreed that it would hamper the ability of her arm to heal fully, even though she told them it was fine.

  At night, when they thought everyone had gone to sleep, Sylvan and Rian left the safety of the protective circle, only to return much later, bringing with them the chill of the air outside the warmth of the fire. Serra pretended to sleep through their outings, huddled in her bedroll, with Reks' arm over her.

  If Reks or Vaughn noticed that Sylvan and Rian left in the middle of the night, or if they noticed a sudden decrease in bickering, they did not say anything.

  On their third day out, they passed by a village. Reks went into town to gather what supplies they needed, though the need was very little thanks to the generosity of Mistress Bina. While he was gone, Vaughn pulled out the map and found their location. “We’re moving a lot slower than I thought we would be.”

  “The snow’s slowing us down.” Rian commented.

  “We could travel by boat.” Sylvan offered.

  Vaughn shook his head. “The king has forbidden travel by boat on the Lynse. And we can’t very well float down the river on an invisible raft. We’ll be coming across villages with much more frequency now that we’re out of the foothills.”

  “How long will it take us to reach Port Luna?” Serra asked, looking at the map. Vaughn did some quick calculations.

  “I don’t see us reaching it until two weeks from now.”

  “Two weeks? But it’s already the twelfth month. We only have a month- no less than a month, before the end of the year. We have to get there faster.” Serra was growing agitated. She stood up and began pacing around the fire.

  “I’m sorry, Serra, there’s nothing we can do about it. We can’t go by river. We have to push on by horseback.”

  “Fine. Then we stop less and for shorter amounts of time. I say we leave when Reks gets back.”

  “We can’t do that!” Rian said, from his place beside Sylvan.

  “Well, then what do you suggest?” Sylvan asked, shaking her head. “Serra’s right. We have to try to move faster, if we don’t we won’t reach Mistress Wylda’s citadel and the village before the end of the year.”

  “Now that we’re out of the foot hills, going may be easier.” Vaughn said. “Let’s see how much progress we make in the next couple of days before we start-“ He cut off as Reks entered their campsite, followed by a tinkling Thistle.


  “Look who I found.” The Thief Lord set down his bundles and bent over to warm his hands over the fire, while the others greeted the pixie. His silver eyes found Serra were she still paced. “You, my dear, are famous.”

  That stopped her in her tracks. “What?”

  “It seems that word has spread that there is a shifter in Iperia. The King has offered a reward for your capture. Five gold embars.” Serra felt her heart stop. Vaughn let out a whistle. That was more money than most people would make in a year. “And he commissioned a bill for your arrest, complete with a likeness.” Reks reached into his cloak and pulled out a piece of rolled up parchment. He handed it to Serra, who unrolled it with trembling fingers. Rian and Sylvan came to stand behind her.

  Serra blinked at the likeness. Same wide eyes, upturned nose and high cheekbones. There would be no mistaking that the girl on the bill was her. She handed the parchment to Rian and sank to the ground.

  “That means that we have to be even more careful.” Vaughn had not moved from his place, though he was watching Serra as she pulled her knees to her chest and tried not to panic. Thistle landed on her shoulder and patted her cheek.

  “It also means that General Latimer has had contact with the outside world. This does not bode well for us.” Reks sat down and helped himself to what was left of the dinner. “It means that he’s searching for us, too.”

  The reality of their situation sank in. They would have enemies in every village now. They would have bounty hunters searching for them on the roads and in the woods. Sylphs would be patrolling from the skies. The farther they could stay away from villages the better, the less time spent in one place the better.

  “This only emphasizes my point.” Serra said, hands still shaking. “We have to move faster.”

  Vaughn nodded. “You’re right. We had better get to sleep. We’ll be breaking camp before first light.”

  Despite that they needed to leave early the next morning the companions found it difficult to fall asleep. Sylvan and Rian sat close together, talking in hushed tones, so as not to be overheard. Reks and Vaughn discussed possible shortcuts to Port Luna, and Serra sat up and brooded.

  When she’d first learned she was a shifter, she had been unsure of it, but as time passed she’d come to see it as a gift. Now, she only saw it as a curse. It was because of her ability to shift that her friends were in so much danger. It was because of her ability to shift that they had turned from the hunters to the hunted. Had she been just a simple, normal servant girl, she still would have chased after this group all those months ago. She would have learned how to fight and would have made herself useful, but she wouldn’t have gotten them into so much trouble.

  They were running out of time and they all knew it. If something didn’t turn in their favor soon, then all hope would be lost. She knew what needed to be done but didn’t think any of her friends would approve of it.

  Still she formed a plan that she knew would work. As her companions settled down around her, she watched the fire until her eyes grew heavy and her brain soft and fuzzy.

  Before she knew it Reks was shaking her awake. They broke camp as quickly as possible in the dim morning light and were on their way before the sun had broken the horizon.

  They passed by Carpius two days later, giving the capital city a wide berth. The roads were thick with people travelling to and from the large gates. Serra used her shifting ability to alter her appearance slightly, but the eyes of the guards they passed were still suspicious. When they stopped for the night Serra was exhausted. She hadn’t thought that holding a shape for as long as she had would be so tiring.

  When she thought of how far they still had to go, she wanted to lay her head down and weep. As it was, she lay her head down and fell asleep immediately.

  She was awakened in the middle of the night by Shadowdancer’s whinny. “Shh.” Serra scolded, without opening her eyes. The horse whinnied again. Serra rolled over to glare at her horse and froze in mid motion. Lingering outside the protective circle, just out of the ring of firelight, something waited. Serra watched as it raised a hand and ran it down the magical barrier, as if searching for a crack. It couldn’t see her, Serra reassured herself. A movement at the corner of her eye made her turn her head. Another set of hands was searching along the barrier.

  Serra nearly screamed when a hand came down over her mouth. “Shh.” Reks whispered. “They know we’re here.”

  Serra shook off his hand. “Gee, you think?” Around the fire the companions were awake, gathering their weapons. “What are you doing? They can’t get in, can they?”

  Sylvan shook her head. “They shouldn’t be able to, hypothetically speaking. I mean there is a seam, you know, where the circle starts and ends and the spells are a little weaker there. If they can find it and apply the right kind of pressure…” Her voice faded off.

  Serra looked at her amazed. “You didn’t think to tell us this before? They can get in here?”

  “It would take a very powerful mage to even attempt it,” Reks said, fingering the hilt of one his knives.

  “You mean like one who’s been able to stay alive for the last five hundred years? The one who has enough power to raise the dead?” Serra knew she sounded panicked. But she couldn’t help it.

  “Regardless of if they can get in or not.” Rian said, standing and strapping on his sword. “We will eventually need to get out.”

  Vaughn had already packed his things up and was strapping them to his horse’s saddle. Everyone else began to do the same.

  Serra had formed a plan for what to do the next time the death muxins had caught up with them. She knew that the fastest way to find Valaine was to let herself be taken by her henchmen. But she had thought that she would have more time to prepare for it.

  “Oh no,” Sylvan murmured. The death muxins had all converged on one spot. “They found the seam.”

  A twisted smile crossed the face of the death muxin that had found the seam. He was tall and more human than the others they had encountered. A silver chain with a gold ring circled his neck. Serra watched in horror as the dead man’s hands began to glow an eerie reddish orange. The light permeated the barrier, bleeding through Sylvan’s magic.

  “It’s getting through, Sylvan.” Serra whispered.

  “I know,” Sylvan said through gritted teeth. Serra glanced to where her friend stood. Sweat had broken out on the dryad’s forehead and she looked to be in pain. Rian was next to her, his face tight with worry. “I can’t keep them out. Oh, Gods it hurts.”

  Reks caught Vaughn’s eye, who nodded. “Don’t try to keep them out. We’ll fight.”

  A laugh came from outside the barrier. It sounded harsh and musty, as though uttered by a voice that had not been used in a very long time. The death muxin with the glowing hands was looking at Reks. “Oh, we’ll fight, little Thief Lord, and you will lose.” He reached a rotting hand inside the barrier. Instantly the smell of putrid flesh filled the air. Serra gagged, but gripped her sword with both hands.

  “Sylvan,” Vaughn said. “On my mark drop the barrier.”

  “Remember,” Reks said, never taking his eyes off the death muxins. “Hurt them in the head and they won’t get up.”

  Serra took a deep breath and adjusted her grip on her weapon. Her healing arm protested, but she would not let her friends down.

  “Now!”

  Sylvan gasped as she released the barrier. The death muxins wasted no time, rushing forward on all sides to surround them. Serra swung her sword, separating her first attacker from his head. Two more took his place. She continued swinging her sword. She heard shouts and the sounds of battle all around her. A quick glance told her that all her companions were still standing. She felled another death muxin.

  The death muxin with the ring around his neck stepped in front of her. Serra brought her sword up, but allowed it to be deflected from a killing blow. The creature grinned, and Serra had the sickening sensation that Valaine was grinning somewhere far away. He gr
ipped Serra’s wrist and squeezed hard, causing her to cry out and drop her sword.

  “That’s a good little shifter,” The death muxin murmured. “Yes, that’s it. Just give in and I will spare your friends.”

  “Serra!” she heard someone shout. “Hang on!”

  Thistle flew between Serra and the creature, glowing and tinkling angrily. The death muxin gave a dry laugh and swatted her away. Serra watched as she flew through the air, landing in the bushes that circled the clearing.

  “Fight, Serra!”

  She knew she should. She knew that is what they expected her to do, but she had to let him take her. It was the fastest way to end this.

  The death muxin grinned again, and bent down to throw Serra over his shoulder. He paused in his movement, then fell forward onto Serra knocking her to the ground. An arrow protruded from his forehead. A greenish ooze dripped from his wound onto Serra’s face, making her gag. She struggled to move the massive weight off her, but was unable to shift it and was forced to lie quietly under the rotting corpse as her friends made quick work of the remaining death muxins.

  All in all, it had been a small group to begin with and Serra had the niggling suspicion that the death muxins hadn't come at them with full force.

  When the last of the creatures had fallen, Serra's friends wiped their blades on the snowy ground. Sylvan took her time pulling arrows from the unmoving bodies and placing them back in her quiver. Foul smelling ooze continued to drip onto Serra's cheek, sliming its way down into the hair at her temple.

  After a time, Serra realized they were leaving her there on purpose. The melting snow began to seep through her pants making her uncomfortable. "Excuse me? Could someone help, please? I'm stuck." She pushed at the huge body on top of her with no hope of moving him.

  Her friends crowded around her. "Oh, sorry. We’d almost forgotten you." Reks said, his voice positively dripping honey.