He’d had good cause to stop for the night. Fear pushed him to follow an unwise course. The smart move was to resist, to lie back down. Sighing, he did just that.
An eternity later, he managed to nod off … and jerked awake well before daybreak. The first thing that hit him was that Ashley hadn’t tried to pull him into the dream. He’d sensed her before he fell asleep and had been prepared to resist her. Why hadn’t she tried? Had he severed their connection permanently?
No. Xan refused even to consider the idea. There must be some explanation, though he couldn’t think of what it might be. He sensed for her again.
A flow surged southwest of him. The cave.
He smiled. Not only was Justav not out yet, but he didn’t have enough kineticists and massers to continue efforts all night.
Eventually, the relentless night brightened, and Xan continued his journey. As he rode, he monitored magic use, and it ceased shortly before noon, much sooner than he’d hoped. He had only a little more than a day’s lead on the catcher. It would have to be enough.
A couple of hours later, Xan came upon a dirt path running from the west to the east. He wanted to go northeast instead of due east, but he’d make better time not having to skirt obstacles.
As the miles passed, the prairie transformed into woodlands, and in late afternoon, Xan rounded a bend. Far in the distance, three riders waited in the middle of the road.
35.
Xan’s heart dropped into his throat at the sight of the three figures.
What if Justav had used dreaming to contact allies ahead of him? These riders could be mages ready to capture Xan. Or they could be regular people out for a ride in the country.
If the former, he should strike first. Burn them where they stood. If the latter, he couldn’t murder innocents, and the correct thing to do was offer greetings and smile as he passed.
Obviously, he couldn’t just kill them. He’d have to take the incredibly dangerous tact of determining if they were a threat before they acted against him. Great.
Should he gallop at them or approach slowly? He settled on what he hoped appeared to be a casual, leisurely pace, but the yards between him and them disappeared with alarming quickness.
Being careful not to do anything with his magic, he prepared to use it. He analyzed branches and leaves as launching points for balls of flame. Or if it came to that, should he just burn the riders’ clothes directly? Could he handle three at once?
As the distance decreased, details of the riders became clearer, familiar. The confident, graceful way the biggest one sat atop his huge horse. The furtive gestures of the smallest one. The pink hood on the cloak of the third.
Brant, Dylan, and Lainey.
“No!” Xan shouted and urged Honey faster.
Brant cut him off with a grin. “You realize you ride the slowest horse of all of us, right?”
“How could you?” Xan reined his horse to a stop. “What part of get Lainey to safety didn’t you understand?”
Brant shrugged. “Tell her that.”
“You were free!” Xan wanted to bury his face in his hands. “Justav is through the cave. It’ll be a miracle if I make it out of this alive.”
“Come to Welloch with us,” Lainey said. “If we don’t use magic, he’ll never find us. Our tracks will merge with all the others on the roads.”
Xan just stared at his sister. How could she even say that? “What about Ashley? You’d have me sacrifice her life for mine?”
“I would,” Dylan said. “I don’t even know her, much less owe her anything.”
“Then why are you here?” Xan shouted. “You’ve got your chance at safety. Go!”
Lainey stared at him. “This girl means that much to you?”
“Yes.” Xan stopped. That wasn’t what he meant. Or that wasn’t something he could admit. “No.” He found himself at a loss for words. “I can’t just leave her to the catchers any more than I could leave any of you.”
“Okay,” Lainey said. “We’ll go with you.”
“Lainey …”
“What if Ashley’s already been caught?” she said. “Do you really think you can save her without us?”
If the catchers already had Ashley, all of them together probably had no shot. It would be nice to have backup, though. And someone to talk to. Besides, his friends weren’t exactly easy to get rid of.
He was going to hate himself all over again.
“If I agree to this—a big if—I’m in charge.” Xan caught Brant’s eye. “We do what I say, when I say, and how I say.”
Brant leapt off Spear in a smooth motion and grabbed Xan.
“What—” Xan barely got a word out before being plucked from Honey’s back. He crashed onto the ground. Pain shot through his shoulder and hip.
Brant clenched his hands into fists. “I’ll show you who’s in charge.”
Xan curled into a ball and moaned. So many times he’d been in a similar situation. How many hours had he spent cowering? How many hours tending his injuries?
Dirc. Keller.
A boot hit Xan’s stomach, and he winced.
“Stop it!” Lainey grabbed Brant’s shoulders, but he shrugged her off. She hit the dirt with a cry.
Xan never could do anything against Dirc. The bully was bigger and stronger and faster and more coordinated. Brant was even more dangerous.
But Xan was no longer helpless. There were worse things in life than fists. He called his magic.
The front of Brant’s tunic exploded into flame. He staggered backward before throwing himself to the ground and smothering the fire.
Despite every motion causing him pain, Xan staggered to his feet. Brant, a blackened hole burned in his tunic and a grim expression, tensed his muscles in concentration.
“You come anywhere close to touching magic, and I’ll burn you alive.” Xan had directed most of the blast away from Brant’s body, but he’d had enough. That was the last beating he’d ever take, even in the name of friendship.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
A gentle hand gripped his shoulder.
“Xan …” Lainey said.
“We’re not kids anymore.” Xan hardened his stare and his heart. “Challenge me again, and you’re dead. Don’t like it?”
Brant snarled.
“Fine. Leave. I’m going after Ashley.” Xan tried not to limp as he walked to Honey and tried not to cry out as he mounted. He failed at both, but at least, he managed to resist looking back as he rode away.
After a few miles, he let himself assume that the fight had been the final straw, that the others had finally abandoned him. It was all for the best. Better them away from him than to keep putting them in danger.
A few more miles passed, and hooves sounded behind him. The others joined him without a word.
It was hardly a comfortable silence. Both Brant and Dylan glared at Xan whenever he approached, so he suffered without distraction his renewed guilt at putting his sister in danger. By the time they saw the first farm house, he’d dropped behind them so as not to have to deal with their looks.
Near nightfall, they encountered the first village, though perhaps the word was generous in describing the small cluster of wood buildings. As they approached, Lainey and Dylan’s conversation drifted back to Xan. Despite the settlement’s small size, she hoped for an inn with facilities for a hot bath. Dylan wanted fresh food.
Xan looked at the three buildings ahead of them and seriously doubted they’d get their wishes. The first two were obviously houses. He didn’t know the purpose of the last, larger one with no windows, but it didn’t look anything like the Angry Egg.
The others passed without stopping, confirming his suppositions. As Xan reached the structure, he peered at it closely. Some kind of meeting hall. Paper on the far corner caught his attention. He drew closer and discovered a poster with a drawing in the center.
Though he’d seen the like before, such advertisements were not common. The
price of paper made its use rare, and each had to be hand lettered and drawn. Whatever was posted must have been important to justify the cost. Xan just hoped a renegade alchemist like him wasn’t worth that kind of expense to the nobles.
He leaned forward and recognized the hair, the face, and the eyes. There was no mistake.
Ashley.
The poster’s heading read, “Kidnapped.”
Xan halted Honey and read the bottom of the poster. “Reward for information leading to the safe return of Niskma Ashley Asher.”
He swallowed hard. Ashley’s father was Grand Duke August Asher? The ruler of Vierna, Lord of Asherton, Defender of Eagle Pass, and owner of a dozen other titles? Only Queen Anna ranked higher in the entire kingdom of Bermau.
How was it possible for her to be a high noble?
Was she just toying with Xan in the dreams? They’d had a real connection, hadn’t they? She’d wanted him to kiss her.
But she was the niskma, heir to the duchy of Vierna. How could she be interested in a lowly commoner like him? Even if he escaped the death sentence hanging over him, he could offer her what exactly? A tiny house in a small village?
She was used to palaces, to servants catering to her every whim. Dresses. Balls.
He had been so stupid to think someone so beautiful could ever be in a relationship with him.
Xan drew out the carved oak leaf and stared at the stupid, childish, crude lump. What had he been thinking in making such a thing? She deserved gold, jewels, the finest crafted and honed gifts, not something even the proudest mom of a toddler would consider misshapen.
His hand shook as he tightened it around the ridiculous token. He should fling it into a field. Give up on his juvenile notions.
With a sigh, he returned the carving to his pocket.
36.
Xan’s mind whirled as he rode. He barely noticed as the sun dipped low on the horizon, and when the others stopped, he almost ran into Spear.
“So, O Great Leader, is this campsite acceptable?” Brant said.
Grass sparsely covered the rocky ground, and there was no sign of a stream nearby. Didn’t they pass a much better spot a few miles back? “It doesn’t look great. Let’s keep going.” Besides perhaps finding a more suitable location, putting more distance between them and Justav was always a good thing.
Brant nodded. “You’re right. Even though this clearing is the only one I see, the thick woods lining both sides of the road will probably yield a fantastic spot before it gets too dark.” He spun Spear and made to ride off.
“Wait!” Xan sighed. They didn’t have long before full night fell. Maybe they shouldn’t risk trying to find something better. “We’ll camp here.”
“If you’re sure, sir.” Brant saluted. “Very good, sir.”
The attitude was getting old fast. Hopefully, he’d get over it before Xan had to have it out with him. Again. Maybe a few extraneous chores would straighten him out. “Get the fire going and prepare dinner.”
After eating, Xan set his cup of tea carefully on the ground. “I came across some … interesting … information earlier today.” He told them about the poster.
Predictably, Dylan exploded. He burst from his seat by the fire. “No! We are not messing around with nobles. Anyone powerful enough to capture the niskma is too danger—”
“I agree.”
Xan’s statement shut Dylan up, but he remained standing, obviously expecting a trick.
“Do we even know Ashley was captured? The duke’s daughter uses magic; she’s been abducted; and she sends out magic pulses like beacons every night. That’s a lot of coincidence to swallow. What if all this is a trap to pull in mages?” Though Xan didn’t want to believe his entire relationship with her was a lie, that explanation was more plausible than her actually liking him.
“So we change course?” Dylan said cautiously. “Go to Welloch?”
“That does seem to be the best, safest option.” Xan shrugged. “If we did find her, the best case scenario is that thugs captured her and are holding her for ransom. How likely is that, though?”
“Not very. She’d have had lots of guards.” Brant looked disgusted with himself for being drawn into the conversation.
“Exactly,” Xan said. “So if the most probable explanation—that it’s a trap—isn’t true, then, as Dylan alluded to, only another noble would have had the resources to take her. Think about where that leaves us.”
Three blank stares met his directive, though Xan thought Brant’s to be feigned indifference.
“Who’s strong enough to oppose Duke Asher? At minimum, it would have to be a rival duke inside Bermau, but it could be the start of a power play by one of the other kingdoms.” Xan swallowed hard. “Either way, we’d be stepping into the middle of a fight between forces we can’t comprehend. We just thought our present situation looks bleak.”
Emotion welled in his throat, and he drank a bit of tea to cover it. He’d never see Ashley again. Even dreaming to her was too risky. “We have to turn north.”
Dylan nodded vigorously.
Lainey frowned. “Abandoning someone in trouble is really our only option? Doesn’t seem right.”
Xan ran his hand through his hair. He should tell his sister to drop it, that they’d go north. Period. But there was one valid reason to risk all their lives to rescue Ashley.
He sighed. “I’m not saying I think this is a good idea—”
“No!” Dylan said.
Lainey shut him up with a glare. “Explain.”
“Hypothetically,” Xan said, “let’s assume that, instead of Ashley laying a trap to capture mages, she really is in trouble. What would her father, the duke—the Grand Duke—give for her safe return?”
Xan let that question sink in for a moment. “Other than rescuing her, what option gives us a true out? We can hide and create new lives for ourselves, but we’d always be looking over our shoulders. What if we could get pardoned?”
With the thought voiced, Xan warmed to the idea. Lainey nodded. Even Brant looked interested.
“What if we proceed cautiously?” Xan said to Dylan. “We gather information to figure out if she’s really been kidnapped or not. Continue toward her but approach each step like it’s a trap.”
Dylan fingered the medallion under his tunic.
“It’s going to be difficult for you to expand your family’s influence if you have to live under an assumed name,” Lainey said. “This way, you’d have a shot of returning to Eagleton.”
“We’ll be careful?” Dylan said.
“Extremely.” Xan couldn’t believe the turnaround. Everyone was onboard with the rescue? How had that happened? Best to move on before they came to their senses. “You’ve been to Asherton. Ever hear any gossip about Ashley?” He sipped his tea.
Dylan paused, thinking. “Not a lot besides the big blowup a year or so ago about her fiancé.”
A kick in the gut. The comment might as well have been anyway. Xan erupted in a fit of coughing. Tea flowed from his nose. Fiancé?
“Whatever is the matter?” Lainey barely got the words out over stifled laughs.
Xan glared at her. “Just swallowed wrong is all.” He turned back to Dylan. “What were you saying?”
“Rumors had it that the duke’s coffers needed a drastic infusion after a few setbacks, and this rich, but low, noble from Kaicia or some such wanted to marry Lady Ashley. She negotiated terms herself via courier.”
Xan had a hard time picturing the girl he knew from the meadow as being so mercenary. Maybe if her family were desperate? He could see her as the self-sacrificing type.
“Apparently,” Dylan said, “when she saw the guy—thrice her age and four times her weight—she threw a fit and canceled the whole works. The noble made a big stink, and the duke had to pay reparations on top of the fortune he’d already spent on the wedding.”
Xan shook his head. Surely the Ashley he knew wouldn’t be so superficial as to back out just because of a man’s appea
rance. The rumors must have been jealous villagers casting the nobles in the worst possible light.
Still, it stunned him she’d almost been married, though it shouldn’t have. At sixteen, she was of prime age, and Xan imagined her father placed a lot of pressure for her to take her stand under the arch. “Can you imagine being forced into a marriage? Told who to spend the rest of your life with based on political gain? How horrible.”
“Yeah. Deciding’s the fun part.” Brant flashed a grin before resuming his sullen expression.
“For you.” Xan could only wish he had any skill at dealing with girls. Ashley. Corina. A string of unrequited crushes before them stretching all the way to grade school. “I have to admit that not having to court a girl would make things a lot easier.”
“I can’t imagine someone else picking my husband for me,” Lainey said.
“You’re a girl. You don’t have a say.” Brant sounded honestly confused.
She rolled her eyes. “Boys are so clueless.”
Xan stared at his sister. He’d expected her to go off on Brant for uttering such stupidity. That she’d let him slide was yet another sign something was wrong with her.
“What about you, Dylan?” Lainey said.
“The important thing is what’s good for business. A wedding is a great way to seal a contract.”
“What?” She eyed him incredulously. “Your father is going to barter you off?”
“It’s my decision,” Dylan said, “but I can’t imagine not basing it on what’s best for the family.”
Instead of bullying him until he changed his mind—or at least pretended to—Lainey let the pronouncement that money was more valuable than love stand. She silently gathered the dinner dishes to clean, and the conversation died.
What was it that was bothering her? Xan really should try to find out. But how? She was as wont to talk about her troubles as he was. Unwillingness to seek help was one trait they shared as if they were blood.
With all the impossible problems on his plate, he didn’t relish adding a conversation likely to lead nowhere and make both of them uncomfortable. Instead, he resigned himself to not knowing and went to bed.
Rise of the Mages (Rise of the Mages 2) Page 18