His voice was steady despite the fact that his scowl had not cleared away. “I suppose not.”
Neither of them spoke for several minutes, and the only sound was the wind in the treetops. Finally he glanced at the creek. “When you nearly fell in, I got worried. You didn't respond to anything I said or did; I thought I'd have to carry you out of there.”
A small smile tugged at her mouth. “As you said, it’s not deep. At the worst I would have gotten soaking wet, and it'd be my own fault, not yours.”
“I know you wouldn't have drowned,” he said. Something within her relaxed a little more when he returned the smile. “But I kept thinking of the other day, when you brought us out here, how tired you were, after. You've only just seemed to recover and...”
He trailed off and glanced down at his gloved hands. “I cannot protect you from something you carry within yourself, especially when you are so eager to rely upon it.”
“I never asked you to protect me.”
“But here I am, anyway.”
There was nothing in his almost-gold gaze but resolve. It thrilled and terrified her all at once, for if this man was as resolute in his task as that god of his seemed to desire, nothing would keep him from what he perceived as his duty. Men and women throughout history had wielded such conviction as a weapon.
However, along with Stonewall's resolve, there was evidence of an open mind and a kind heart, both of which urged her own blood to beating a little quicker through her veins even as she was set somewhat at ease. Here was a man who'd been immersed in his beliefs for – she assumed – his entire life, yet he was still willing to learn something new.
There was little room in Kali's life for faith; like so many things, it was a luxury she could not afford. But sometimes it would be nice to believe in something greater than herself. Sometimes it would be a comfort to hope there could be some grand design to the world, even if she could never quite believe it. Maybe she could learn something from this man.
So she extended her palm, the stone resting in its center, and tried not to smile as his eyes widened. “For the next cairn,” she said as he lifted it from her hand.
He ran his fingertips across the smooth surface before he glanced back at her. “Another peace offering?” She nodded and he startled her with a grin. “Ah, good. I thought you were going to chuck it at me.”
Kali couldn't help her own smile at this. “Maybe another time. I'm sure you'll deserve it, eventually.”
“No doubt.” He got to his feet and tucked the stone in one of the pouches at his belt. “We should move out.”
She agreed, and he turned as if to offer her his hand, but she was already standing. He helped her back into the saddle and their journey continued.
ELEVEN
In Whitewater City...
With his remaining hand, the First Mage stroked his neat beard as he considered. “Kalinda Halcyon, you said?”
Talon nodded. “You've heard of her?”
“The name is familiar.” Foley Clementa leaned back in Talon's office chair, his gaze distant as he considered the commander's question. Impatience flared through Talon, but she held it at bay and waited for him to gather his thoughts. It always behooved her to listen to Foley's counsel.
At last he nodded slowly, though his expression was troubled. “Eris Echina was in correspondence with her. I remember reading their letters.”
Eris Echina. Gideon's wife. Talon set the information aside for later inspection. “Was anything amiss in the letters? Any hints of...dissatisfaction with the bastion? Plans for escape?”
Foley gave Talon look that she recognized all too well. “If there was anything of the sort, I would have told you. Gideon has behaved himself, enough to warrant sending him on missions. I think married life has had a calming influence on him.”
“Unless he's biding his time,” Talon muttered. Eris was docile enough, but her husband had a history as a renegade, which made him more dangerous than most mages.
Foley sighed deeply. “We've been over this.”
“Aye, so there's no need to–”
“You should give them the benefit of the doubt,” he interrupted. “Control through intimidation will only last so long. Eventually, you must–”
“I must keep the peace,” Talon broke in, lifting her chin. “I must keep Argent from...” Her gaze fell on Foley's missing hand and her throat tightened. She took a moment to gather her calm before continuing. “Even if Gideon is behaving himself now, the fact remains that this Starwatch mage has escaped, and she's connected to the wife of a known troublemaker. There was no mention of their relationship in the transfer request from Starwatch.”
“I doubt the Starwatch commander was overly familiar with the childhood friendship of two mages across the continent,” Foley said wryly.
Talon leveled him with her most piercing stare. “What else do you know of Mage Halcyon? What was in those letters?”
Foley returned her stare with his usual calm regard. “She's crippled; some defect from when she was born. Eris suggested that Sadira might be able to help her.”
A crippled mage. Gray had said much the same thing. But apparently even a broken mage could still cause trouble. Talon drummed her fingers against her desk, watching the shifting patterns of the afternoon light filtering through her office windows without really seeing them. Shouts and clatters of steel on steel resonated from the courtyard. The sentinels always had to be prepared.
“I can probably get the letters back from Eris,” Foley added, lifting Talon out of her thoughts.
“That won't be necessary. I–”
A sharp rap against her office door cut her off. Cobalt's voice followed. “Commander. I must speak with you.”
“Enter,” she called.
Captain Cobalt stepped inside. Fully armored, he seemed to take up most of the room as he strode to Talon's desk. He carried a case of some kind, though he did not present it immediately. His gear was splattered with mud and blood, and his steps were heavy. But he stood straight, as was proper when addressing a senior officer.
“Commander.” Cobalt's eyes landed briefly on the hematite cuffs resting on the edge of Talon's desk. “Mage Clementa.”
Foley inclined his head as well. “Captain.”
“What news?” Talon asked. Judging from Cobalt's battered and weary state, it was nothing good.
Indeed, he sighed once, deeply, and his chin tilted down a fraction of an inch. “Lieutenant Dev was killed by Canderi raiders.”
Something within Talon's gut clenched, making it difficult to breathe. Another one gone too soon. “How many raiders?”
“Half a dozen. They were attacking a small village near the edge of the province: Parsa. Defeating them should have been easy enough. But...” Cobalt's face tightened, but his words were steady as he described the raging Canderi warriors who'd killed one of the finest officers Talon had known during her time at this garrison. His story, gruesome though it was, fell in step with Gray's report of the attack on her fellow Starwatch sentinels nearly two days ago.
“I'd hoped to capture at least one for questioning,” Cobalt added. “But it wasn't possible. We left none of the barbarians alive at Parsa.”
Talon took a deep breath, as much to give herself a moment to collect her thoughts as to shore up her own calm. “The villagers are safe?”
“They've got graves to dig, but most will live to fight another day.”
She made a notation on her never ending list of things to do. “I'll contact the local Circle clergy and request that aid be sent over. In the interim, we can send a squad by the city with some supplies.”
“Lieutenant Wren should be available,” the captain replied.
Talon nodded. “See to it. Were any of ours injured at Parsa?”
“A few scratches. Nothing serious. They're in shock, though.” He paused. “Particularly one of Dev's burnies.”
Talon caught his meaning and grimaced inwardly. Internal fraternization among senti
nels was permissible, as long as the relationship did not interfere with either party’s duties. However, to avoid the inevitable pain of loss, many sentinels chose to keep such affairs casual. Dev had not been one of those. Evidently, nor had his young paramour.
“Did you recover his body?” she asked.
“Aye, Commander.”
“We'll cremate him at dusk, with our Starwatch brothers and sisters,” Talon said. “It should bring his squad some peace to see him off to his next life. In the meantime, did you find anything useful on your search?”
In response, Cobalt set a battered viol case upon her desk. “Gray and Mica brought this back with the Starwatch sentinels. Odds are it belonged to the mage. I thought you'd want a look.”
Perhaps it had been beautiful once, but now the leather was scuffed, cracked, and peeling. In the way of all things related to magic, there was nothing remarkable about the case's outward appearance. What lay within was another matter.
Foley leaned forward but, like Talon, he did not touch the case. “I can ask Eris if her friend played the viol.”
“Eris?” Cobalt looked at Talon. “Eris Echina?”
“Aye,” she said, adding, “Gideon's wife.”
Understanding flashed in the captain's eyes, and his mouth tightened in a thin line. “Perhaps I ought to speak to her.”
Foley tensed. Talon, though, nodded slowly. “I think that would be wise. Did you find anything besides the viol?”
“Only more dead sentinels, ser.” Cobalt’s eyes were shadowed; his voice was a low growl. “Other than some tattered clothes and books, there was no sign of the moon-blood.”
Foley winced at the slur and dropped his gaze to his lap.
By necessity, Talon had hardened herself against such things long ago. “Thank you for the information, Captain. You should get some rest.”
“I'll manage, ser,” was his brusque reply before he saluted and slipped out of her office.
Only after the door fully closed did Foley shake his head. “I don't like him. Eris doesn't, either. She won't–”
“I don't care,” Talon broke in. “And nor should you, if you want to keep your freedom.”
The First Mage regarded her for a long moment. Though the sunlight cast his salt and pepper beard into bronze, he suddenly looked so much older than his fifty-six summers. That same sunlight caught on his hook and made the metal gleam – as if she needed the reminder that his right hand had been severed below the wrist, just before his mage-mark.
At last he reached for the viol case with his left hand; he drew it into his lap and lifted the latches with ease. Carefully, he held the instrument up to the light so they could both get a better look. All but one of the strings had snapped loose from their housing. The single string that remained barely connected the splintered neck to the body.
Despite being broken, the instrument was thing of beauty. The wood grain was polished to a honey-gold sheen that danced with each motion of Foley's hand; the curving “s” shaped holes on either side of the strings were accented with little spirals, a theme repeated at the viol's head. More spirals, reminiscent of climbing vines, were engraved all along the viol's edge.
“Damaged, but not beyond repair,” Foley said. “If it does belong to Mage Halcyon, no doubt she'll be glad to know it was recovered.”
Talon could not keep the misgiving from her voice. “If she reaches Whitewater City.”
Again, that calm regard she knew so well. “Come now, Commander,” Foley said. “Don't you have faith in one of your own?”
“Faith, I have in abundance.” Talon rose to her feet and plucked the hematite cuffs from her desk. “But hope is always elusive.”
***
Eris took another deep breath and tried to ignore how her and Gid's friends watched her in the secluded corner of the bastion's garden.
“Does it always take this long?” Adrie whispered.
Gideon shushed her. “Eris needs to concentrate.”
Cai, one of Gid's closest friends, sighed heavily. “You have to meet your contact in two nights. Everything we've worked for is riding on this meeting, Gid.”
Another mage, Marcen, cleared his throat. “Well, at least, no matter what, you could still get out of the bastion...”
“Aye,” Cai said. “But what in the blazing void would he do once he left? Make a run for the pub and hope no sentinels spot him?” He sighed. “If Eris can't do it, we're all as good as stuck here.”
“Well...changing shape can't be that easy,” Adrie replied. “It's not like anyone else can manage.”
“But even if she does change once,” Cai said. “How's she going to let Gid know any of what she sees? Did Gid learn to speak crow?”
Marcen sounded hopeful. “I think I see some feathers at her fingertips.”
“All of you, shut up,” Gid hissed.
Eris shifted in place. The wooden bench beneath her had long since grown warm from her seat, but the chilly evening air seemed to cut right through her coat. She tried to ignore everyone around her, even Gid, and focus solely on the particles of her body in order to coax them into an crow's form.
It has to work, she thought. If I only concentrate...
Each breath dropped her further into focus; mentally, she shaped her feet into talons and her nose into a beak, and she found she could imagine the shape of the wings easier than ever before. Beyond that, though, she was afraid to open her eyes.
Times like these, she wished she could measure her magic's progress without having to actually see it. But she had no way to know if she was successful until it was over, one way or another, and in the meantime, she needed to focus. She trembled with her efforts. Cool wind rifled across her sweat-soaked skin and she thought – she hoped – the delicious tickling sensation was due to the fact that she was covered in inky-black feathers...
Just when she was convinced she'd managed it, she heard Adrie's soft voice. “Nothing's happening, Gid. I think we're just distracting her. Maybe we should leave?”
“Hush, all of you,” Gideon replied immediately, though equally as softly. “She can do it. She will do it.”
“Are you sure she's changed before?” Adrie whispered.
Eris' heart seized, but Gid's reply was easy. “I've seen it myself.”
Liar, she thought, gritting her teeth. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her, but she fought it back. Just a moment more...
“Have a little faith,” Gid added. “She's stronger than any of us. She can do it. I know she can.”
“We've been out here forever,” Cai muttered. “Foley's bound to come across us any moment, especially if he sees we're not at dinner with the others.”
“Just a little bit longer,” Gid said, and Eris knew he was staring at her. She could picture all four mages gathered around the little bench, watching her, waiting for her to succeed where she'd failed so often before...
I can't do this. The realization clutched at her throat, squeezing. She felt empty, wrung dry like a damp rag at a sink. Resigned, Eris opened her eyes slowly, blinking into the dusky twilight, before glancing between the others. None spoke for a moment.
Marcen gave her a smile, his pale skin made even more so by his near white-blond hair. “I did see some feathers,” he offered. “For a moment, anyway. That's more than anyone else has been able to do.”
“I'm sure you just need more practice. And more privacy.” Adrie shot a look at Cai, who shrugged but said nothing.
Annoyance flickered through Eris but she ignored it for now, instead glancing at Gideon, who stood beside her. “Not today,” she said quietly.
She met his eyes and braced herself for disappointment or even annoyance, but there was only love in the dark depths. He kissed her cheek. “Then another day.”
“But the meeting...”
“Will still happen,” Gid said with a shrug. He smiled, adding a wink to his next words. “If you can't manage it, we'll just have to be a little more careful than we planned.”
; “What are you lot up to?”
Cai and Marcen whirled at the familiar voice. Adrie winced. Eris and Gid exchanged glances, and turned slowly to face Captain Cobalt. The sentinel stood a few paces away, surrounded, as the mages were, by sheltering brushwork. He wore his helmet, so his scar was hidden, but his disdain was still evident as he swept his pale eyes across the magic-users.
“You heard me,” he added, lifting his chin. “What are you doing here?”
“Nothing, ser,” Marcen said, raising his hands. “Just–”
“We're mages in a mage bastion,” Gid broke in. “We're exactly where you want us. Is that a problem for you, Captain?”
Eris resisted the urge to shush him, for with each word, Cobalt tensed. “Be thankful for your talents, Echina. If your fate were in my hands, you'd be in a cell for the rest of your days. That's the only place renegades like you belong.”
“Come closer and say that, hemie,” Gideon replied.
Shut up, Eris wanted to shout. Don't make it worse for yourself, idiot! Indeed, Cobalt drew himself up and took a single step forward, once – to Eris. When he looked at her, her stomach clenched at the cold steel of his gaze.
“What do you know of a mage named 'Kalinda Halcyon?'”
“Kali?” Thrown for a loop, Eris frowned at the sentinel, but it was not out of malice. “She's an old friend of mine, but I've not seen her in years.”
“What are her abilities? What are her...talents?” The captain said the word as if tasting something foul, and Eris flushed with anger.
Gid moved to stand between her and Cobalt, but Eris stilled him with a hand on his arm. “She reads too much,” she said to the sentinel captain. “She walks with a limp. She's a decent enough healer, I suppose, but she's not what I would consider a great talent among our kind.”
“What else?” Cobalt demanded.
“Why are you asking this?” Gideon said. “Do you have news of Kali?”
Catalyst Moon: Incursion (The Catalyst Moon Saga Book 1) Page 13