“But it's true,” she said. “Isn't it?”
He scrubbed his face with one hand. “Shit. It's too early for this.”
That, at least, she could agree with. “Aye, we're both tired,” she said after a moment. “Perhaps now isn't the time for this discussion.”
“I agree.” He tentatively reached for her hand again; this time, she allowed him to take it. “Feed your precious chickens,” he said quietly, kissing her wrist, where her marks rested. “And come back to me swiftly. Then, maybe we can settle our...conflicting opinions in another, more entertaining way.”
She was more tired than she realized, for she chuckled despite how utterly infuriating he was acting. I must be delirious with exhaustion. To her husband, she said, “Maybe I'll be less cross with you by then.”
Gid's smile would be the death of her. “Oh, I hope not.”
Several moments later, as Eris was stepping out of the door, Gid said her name again. When she looked back at him, he was seated cross-legged on their bed, hands folded in his lap. “What we're doing,” he said slowly. “It's important. More than anything else. Don't you see that now?”
Over his shoulder, she could see the sky brightening beyond their window. The memory of wind through her feathers rushed through her body. “Freedom.”
“Freedom,” he repeated. “It's worth all the danger, Eris. It's worth everything.”
She had no reply to that, so she merely nodded and slipped from their room.
***
This early, the bastion was draped in mist and eerily quiet. Eris hugged her cloak close and hurried for the chicken coops, near the gardens. Her boots left dark prints in the dewy grass of what served as a pasture for the livestock that shared their home with the magic-users. Only a few other creatures called this place home: half a dozen shaggy goats, a gaggle of pure white geese, and – as Gid liked to call them – her precious chickens.
After gathering a small sack of feed from the small barn, she began to scatter the seeds over the hardy northern grass beneath the wooden coop, which was looking a little worse for the wear after nearly a week's worth of foraging hens. She'd have to move the coop to a fresher, grassier spot in another day or so.
“Good morning, ladies,” she said to the rust-red speckled hens who eagerly descended upon the falling seeds. “I trust you lot had a less eventful night than I did?”
“I should hope so,” came a familiar voice behind her.
Eris' heart skipped a beat before it started racing. No. Slowly, carefully, she turned and faced Commander Talon. The sentinel leader wore her usual hematite armor and accouterments, including sword and daggers, though she also carried a battered instrument case. It was familiar, but only in passing, and Eris was unwilling to look away from the commander's face for too long.
“Good morning, Mage Echina,” the commander added once Eris met her eyes. Talon had clipped her helmet to her belt, leaving her expression open – but not entirely unguarded. Anger flashed across Talon's face, so quickly it might have not existed at all, before it was subsumed in the commander's usual detached calm.
She knows, Eris thought, fighting to keep her fear from showing. She had the sudden, wild urge to fly away and never look back. But even if she was fully rested, such an act would do more harm than good. She would never abandon Gideon.
After a few silent moments passed, Talon lifted a brow. “It is customary to return the greeting.”
The only witnesses here were Eris' chickens, the garden trees, and mist-shrouded barn. Ostensibly, the sentinel leader was alone, but no doubt her hematite-addled lackeys waited nearby with bated breath. Eris was suddenly conscious of how very weak she felt, how very tired and afraid.
Well, fear could not be banished, but it could be concealed. Eris crossed her arms before her chest. “What do you want?”
In response, Talon held up the instrument case. “Open it, please, and tell me what you see.”
So this meeting was not about last night. Somehow, miraculously so, she'd not been identified. Hopefully the same could be said for Gid. I can't believe he was right. Relief swam through Eris' veins.
Nevertheless, she could not find the will to make anything easy for a sentinel. “If this is a game,” Eris said as she unfastened the case's latches. “It's a very poor one.”
Talon shook her head once. “I'm simply seeking answers.”
Within the padded case was a broken viol. A plain, unremarkable thing, though there were some interesting carvings along the side...
As she studied the instrument, understanding caught Eris by the throat. “That's Kali's,” she breathed. She looked up at the commander. “How did you get this?”
“You are certain it belongs to Mage Halcyon?”
Brows knitting at the non-answer, Eris nodded. “Aye. She used to play the thing all the time when we were girls.” Well, perhaps play was too kind a description. In those days, the sounds Kali had forced from the viol had been more akin to the wails of a dying cat than true music.
The sentinel took the case, closed it, and set it at her feet. “Thank you for the information. I hope one day it can be returned to your friend.”
“So, she's alive?”
“Perhaps,” Talon replied, dismissing the question with a shrug. “But I think your energy now would be best saved for worrying over your own welfare, Mage Echina. Don't you agree?”
Something hard and cold formed in Eris' gut as her calm from mere moments ago abandoned her. Of course Talon knew. She'd been a fool to think otherwise. “What do you mean?”
“I think you know the answer to that question.” The sentinel's steady words carried an undercurrent of danger.
Eris' heart kicked up its pace again. Coiled within her deepest self, her magic seemed to tremble in preparation as she assessed her own state. Exhausted, yes. Afraid...unfortunately. But within that fear was also a small spark of magic. She held it in check for now and regarded the sentinel commander with her own kind of composure. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Don't you?” When Eris said nothing, Talon clucked her tongue. “And you lecture me about games. But so be it.”
Commander Talon took a single step forward, not to Eris, but to the chicken coop. She watched the pecking hens for a moment, then knelt to open the door and lifted out the nearest bird, fat little Pollie, who had more white speckles than red. Eris' heart seized at the sight of Pollie in the sentinel's grip, but she schooled her expression to remain steady.
“You take good care of these birds,” Talon said, smoothing her fingers down the chicken's back. “You've always shown an affinity for them.”
Pollie sat in the sentinel's arm's without a fuss, though she watched her sisters eating their breakfast with what Eris imagined was longing. Ever-conscious of the sword hanging at the sentinel's belt, Eris risked a small step forward. “Put her down.”
“I envy them sometimes,” Talon said as if Eris hadn't spoken. “Their every need is seen to, and they have so little asked of them in return.”
Is she serious? Eris made a noise of disgust. “It's too early for metaphors, Commander. Put the chicken down.”
“There's no need to get upset,” Talon replied. “What in Atal's name you think I'm going to do to the poor thing?”
Too angry now for caution, Eris spoke through clenched teeth. “Leave your fucking gods out of it. Stop threatening innocent creatures and tell me what you want.”
To Eris' relief, Talon set the chicken back inside the door of the coop, then moved to stand directly before Eris, less than an arm's length away. Eris had to look up to meet the sentinel's eyes, which had narrowed down at her. Sweet stars, but Talon was...big in her armor. Tall and solid, and built like the very walls that surrounded the bastion.
“Very well,” the commander said quietly. “Let's examine the truths of the situation, little bird.”
Without so much as a blink, she grabbed Eris' right wrist and gave a sharp twist. Pain jolted across Eris' arm
from the point of contact, and she cried out in surprise. The sentinel's grip was iron-tight and unrelenting. A wave of instinctive panic rushed through Eris as she struggled for her freedom.
But it was hopeless. Talon was larger and stronger, and had spent a good portion of her life in combat training. And Eris was so tired. When the sentinel commander held up a single black feather in her free hand, icy dread washed through Eris' body.
The calm, steady cadence of Talon's voice was a stark contrast to her ruthless grip. “You left the bastion unsupervised. You used your magic to harm another. You fled from two of my sentinels, also using your magic. All of those things are against the law, Mage Echina, and are punishable by the sword.”
As the commander spoke, more sentinels emerged from the mist that cloaked the bastion, forming a dull gray circle around Eris and Talon. Behind them, several of the other mages had come to see what was going on. Cai, Marcen, and Adrie watched in mute horror, but said nothing. What could they say that would help? Throat dry, heart hammering, Eris whirled her head around to them one-by-one before her gaze fell on Foley, who stood apart from the other mages, hand and hook concealed within his sleeves, face inscrutable.
Thank the stars and moons, Gid wasn't there. Maybe he'd be lucky enough to escape unscathed. Something inside of her eased and granted her the strength to face the sentinel commander again. “It's easy to throw threats around with a sword at your side,” Eris said. “But you're not all-powerful, Commander. You want to kill me? You'd have to catch me, first.”
With each angry word, that tiny spark of magic within her wound itself tighter; a coiled spring begging for release. Fly!
But Talon only smiled. The expression was more disconcerting than any Eris had seen on her so far. “I don't believe it will come to that.” Her gaze flickered over Eris' shoulder. “After all, we both know you never go anywhere without that husband of yours.”
“Let me go, you fucking metal-blooded bastard–”
“Shut it, Echina.”
Gideon! Eris fought Talon's grip again, but this time it was to see fully behind her, where Cobalt's squad of hemies led her husband across the bastion. They brought him to stand beside Eris; he wore hematite cuffs along with his nightclothes, as if they'd pulled him from their bed, but otherwise he was in one piece.
Eris' voice sounded soft and strange to her own ears. “You have no proof of anything illegal, Talon.”
“We have two sentinels who can identify you, Mage Echina,” Cobalt said. “They know you used magic outside of the bastion. And the guard,” he tightened his grip on Gideon's binders, “might not be able to see as well as he could before you came along, but I'll wager he won't forget the face of the creature who burned his.”
“As you can see, the matter is out of my hands, little bird,” Talon added coldly. “Eris and Gideon Echina, you have both rejected the authority of the Circle and flaunted the edict of the One.” She toyed with the hilt of her sword, turning it so that the hematite embedded in the steel caught what light could seep through the thinning mist. “I am within my rights to execute you both here and now.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Eris saw Foley clasp his hand to his hook, as if beseeching, though his gaze did not drop from Talon's.
“At the very least,” Talon said, eyes fixed on Eris. “I should clap you in hematite and throw you in a cell for the rest of your life.”
It was too much. Eris could hardly think beyond her fury. It washed through her, took away the gale force winds of her fear and bade her be utterly still, as if in the final moments before true flight. But for once, Eris didn't want to flee. Everything fell away: the sentinels, the mages, the bastion. Even her own husband tumbled to the back of her mind as she faced Commander Talon and focused.
Hematite placed a wall between mages and the rest of the world, but anger bolstered Eris' strength and helped her cut through the sentinel's innate defenses from magic. Eris stared into Talon's brown eyes and willed them to burn within her sodding skull.
For one sweet moment, Talon's eyes widened, going round as dinner-plates, before she cursed and looked away, blinking fast. Her grip eased – Eris had forgotten it in her trance – and Eris was free.
Briefly.
Talon may have been distracted, but the sentinels were always quick to move. One of them grabbed Eris' wrists again and fastened a set of hematite binders upon her; her connection to her magic snapped and the entire world dulled. The heavy cuffs dragged at her wrists.
Gideon swore, but Eris barely heard him over the pounding of her heart. So close. “Is this how you lead your sentinels?” Eris hissed at the commander. “With threats and baseless accusations?”
Another thing about sentinels: they recovered quickly. Talon's sword was free of its sheathe quicker than an exhalation. It made no sound against the leather scabbard, nor did it whisper through the air as Talon raised the gleaming tip to Eris' heart. “My sentinels know their place in the One's world,” she said as Eris' gaze darted to the blade. “It's a lesson you would do well to learn, if not for your benefit, then for the ones you care about.”
This last bit was said with a nod to the other mages, now huddled together. Eris clenched her jaw and spat her next words. “Hypocrite. All that godly prattle about living in harmony, and that stupid, fucking oath...they're all just empty words to you.”
That same anger from before flashed across the commander's face and Talon pushed the point forward, enough to put only the slightest pressure on Eris' heart. Gideon struggled against Cobalt's grip, shouting obscenities at the captain, the commander, and anyone in hematite. Eris braced herself for her final breath.
But it did not come.
Talon said, slowly, “You cannot fathom the weight those words have laid upon my shoulders.”
With that, she drew the blade back and sheathed it in one fluid motion. “Eris and Gideon Echina, you are both under arrest.” She stepped away as several more sentinels took her place and grabbed Eris. “You will each be placed in a hematite cell until such time as I see fit to release you.”
Talon lifted a hand in a silent signal, and the sentinels tugged Eris' arm, dragging her in the direction of the bastion gates, toward the garrison. They were quick and strong, and she stumbled over the grass. When she recovered, she managed to glance back at her fellow mages, in time to see Foley bending to pick up Kali's viol case.
Then one of the sentinels jerked her binders, and she faced forward, determined not to stumble again.
TWENTY-NINE
The moment was a dream. They were here, but part of Kali was still very far away.
It had been overcast all morning, but the sky had started to clear a few hours ago, and what clouds remained were tinted gold by the setting sun. The dirt road on which she and Stone had been traveling curved over rolling hills until it reached the fortified gates of the city. At her request, they'd stopped about a mile from the bridge to the main gates to give her a broad view of their destination.
Whitewater City beckoned. A thousand rooftops shone with light from the frothing water that surrounded its walls. Mountains loomed in the distance; she couldn't make out the waterfall's edge from this side of the city, but she could see where the river disappeared as it plummeted down the mountainside in swathes of mist. Falling water created a constant, steady murmur and a fresh scent in the air. A few hardy crickets chirped against the cold.
Stonewall stood in what she'd come to think of as his customary place beside the horse. His back was sword-straight. “You remember our story?”
“What story?” Kali feigned thoughtfulness. “Oh, the one we discussed a hundred times. No, sadly not. Perhaps a hundred and one will finally make it stick.” When he looked back at her, there was no humor in his eyes and her levity faded. “Yes, I remember.”
He nodded. “I don't know if anyone will question you, but the commander will most likely make me give a full report after...after you're brought to the bastion. Before that, when we reach the gates, w
e'll probably be detained by the City Guards.”
“Not by the sentinels?”
“Not right away. When a sentinel arrives unannounced, standard procedure is for the guards to inform the garrison commander. Once they realize I've brought a mage, she'll send a squad or two to escort us.”
“All that trouble for me?”
He looked back at the city. “Since you're not bound, I expect they'll be on edge.” His free hand rested on one of his dagger-sheathes as he shifted in place; it was about as close to fidgeting as she'd seen from him. “They will probably not treat you...gently.”
No doubt. Nor would they be pleased to see one of their fellows had allowed a mage to traipse about the countryside unbound. She glanced at her hands, resting on the pommel of the saddle. “Would it be better if you put the cuffs on me again?”
“I don't want to.” He turned to her again. This time his face was more serious than she'd seen before, which was saying something. His words seemed to come with reluctance. “But it might make things...better for you, in a sense.”
“It doesn't matter to me if I wear the cuffs or not. I want to come here.” She began to ease herself out of the saddle. Stonewall stepped over and helped her to the ground.
“How much do you know about Whitewater Bastion?” he asked once she was earthbound.
“Eris and I wrote to each other after she was transferred here. She says it's larger than the others, so there are more mages here than at Starwatch. But other than that, it sounds about the same as any other. Why?”
“With the exception of Whitewater and Silverwood, I've been stationed at every garrison in Aredia at one time or another,” he said quietly. “But I've spoken to others who know something of this garrison, and I think I can safely say I know how it's run.”
He met her eyes, and foreboding knotted in her belly as he continued. “From what I understand, magic-users here are not treated very well. Commander Talon is said to be harsh in her treatment of mages. Protocol and procedure are everything to an officer like that.”
Catalyst Moon: Incursion (The Catalyst Moon Saga Book 1) Page 27