01 - The Compass Rose

by Gail Dayton

  “That’s nice to know.” She let go of the men to dry her hands. “And when I aim it, it goes farther in that direction.”

  “Does this magic only kill?” Obed asked.

  “Old records say it may be able to put people to sleep or veil their vision.”

  “Ah, so that’s what happened.” Fox smiled as if making a joke, but Kallista didn’t think he was so amused.

  She caught his hand. “If it is, maybe we can fix it.” She demanded Obed’s hand and when he gave it, called the magic.

  This time, she turned it inside out, asking that it restore what had been taken away.

  “Are you sure?” Stone murmured. “Don’t make it worse.”

  “No.” She restricted the magic, hemmed it in with rules, forbade it to do harm.

  “Try,” Fox said. “I don’t care what happens to me.”

  “I do. I need your magic.” Whispering a prayer, Kallista gave her shaping a gentle push toward Fox.

  He cried out as the magic shook him, stumbling back, breaking her grip on his hand.

  Stone rushed forward to steady him. “What is it? Are you all right?”

  “I’m—for a second I saw…I saw.” Fox stretched a hand toward Kallista. “Dark hair and eyes like the evening sky?”

  “Yes,” Stone whispered.

  Kallista clasped Fox’s outstretched hand, felt his shiver as the magic stirred. He whispered an oath, shuddering again.

  “Can you see?” She tried to see through the magic, through his eyes, releasing Obed in case that might help her focus better. It didn’t.

  “No.” He shook his head, but didn’t sound despairing. “No,” he said again, his voice strange.

  “I hear a ‘but’ after that ‘no,’” Stone said. “What is it?”

  Fox shook Stone’s hand from his arm. “Move away. Go quietly—or as quiet as you can, given you move like a constipated plow horse.”

  Worry shimmered on Stone’s face, nevertheless he did as his partner, now ilias, bid, backing away. Kallista could sense no fear through her link with Fox, perhaps more confusion and curiosity.

  “You cannot see,” she said, just to be sure.

  “No, but—”

  “I knew there’d be a ‘but,’” Stone muttered when Fox fell silent.

  “Now you’ve gone and ruined it,” Fox complained. “Shut your bloody hole and move somewhere else.”

  “What’s going on?” Kallista kept her voice quiet.

  “I can’t see. Everything is as dark as before, veiled, like dusk. But—” Fox turned, his head up. “Obed is there.” He pointed at their black-haired ilias. “And Stone has moved—”

  He pointed at Stone walking in a circle about them, his finger following unerringly. “Stone is there.”

  “Your other senses have compensated?” She had heard of it happening.

  “I don’t think so.” Fox frowned. “I can hear them, of course. And smell. That scent Obed wears is distinctive, and if Stone doesn’t bathe soon, he’ll frighten the horses. But this is something else. I just…know.”

  “What about now?” Kallista released his hand. “Do you still know?”

  Fox turned his head, eyes open as if he could see. “It’s muted,” he said. “But still there.”

  She touched his elbow, startling him, and slid her hand down his bare forearm to clasp hands again. “Let’s see what else you can do. One of you two—” She gestured at Stone and Obed. “Rush us. Fox, try to block him.”

  The men exchanged glances before Stone waved Obed back. He charged his partner. Fox waited motionless until the last moment, then shouldered Kallista aside, seized Stone’s arm as he thundered past and flipped him onto his back. Then he ducked under Obed’s near-simultaneous charge. Obed lost his balance, fell half across Fox, and the blind man straightened, throwing Obed atop Stone.

  “Bravo!” Kallista laughed. “Torchay will be thrilled to know you can defend yourself.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Fox protested. “I knew they were coming.”

  “And you were handicapped by having to hold on to me. A few more weeks, when I can call your magic without having to touch you, and maybe you won’t need touch for this new sense to be clear. We can hope.”

  Fox turned his face away, but left his hand in her grasp, yielding to her. Emotions were harder to read through the link than the magic itself, or even the body, but Kallista knew he refused to hope.

  “So what else can you make the magic do?” Stone asked, dusting grass and ash off himself as he stood.

  “I’d like to see what kind of shield I can make, now I’ve got a way to make the magic behave.” Kallista noticed Obed still sitting on the ground, his scowl fixed on Fox’s hand clasped in hers, and she stifled a sigh.

  Would he be less jealous if she had sex with him, or more? Jealousy had no place within an ilian, but it sometimes happened. And Obed was neither Adaran nor Tibran, but something else entirely. Who knew what his understanding was?

  She offered her hand to assist him to his feet and kept her hold when he was upright, but she didn’t call magic.

  “Well?” Stone said. “Are we making a shield?”

  “Not now. I’m tired, and I want the others here to practice the defensive magic. How will I know if I’ve done it right without someone to test it?”

  “One of us could—” Stone broke off as she shook her head.

  “I need all three of you.” She squeezed the hands she held then let go to pat Stone’s face. “If I build the shield with only two, who knows what might go wrong? Torchay will be back soon with the horses. We can wait.”

  She reached for the gloves in Stone’s belt, but he slipped out of her reach.

  “In that case,” he said with a gleam in his eye Kallista could not like and did not trust, “I think you should work another bit of magic.”

  “What bit of magic might that be?” She was fairly certain she didn’t want to know the answer.

  “I don’t know about our brother Obed here, but I for one would like to know if you can repeat that…magical moment you and Fox shared back in Turysh with someone else. Preferably me.”

  Kallista felt her blush burn and turned her back on him, moving away from all three men. “I don’t think so.”

  “Please?” Stone came up behind her and set his hands on her hips, rested his chin on her shoulder. “This kind of abstinence is hard on a fellow. Isn’t it, Obed?”

  “I will endure whatever discipline the Chosen One demands,” Obed said stiffly.

  “I’m not trying to discipline—”

  “Then why not?” Stone didn’t cling when Kallista broke free of him. “What harm can it do?”

  She was relieved he’d let her go. He was too great a temptation. They all were. “We’ve used too much magic. There’s not enough left to—”

  “So that means you’ll try? Another time when there’s plenty of magic, you’ll—”

  “I didn’t say that.” But oh, she wanted to. Too much. Which had to mean it was a bad idea, even if it was only sex by magic. She couldn’t care too much for them, couldn’t be afraid to risk them when the moment came. Sharing pleasure didn’t have to mean sharing more, but there were already bonds between them. It would be hard to prevent more from developing.

  She could feel Stone’s desire through the link between them, a conduit that never closed, binding them closer than two humans should have to endure. She didn’t mistake either his emotions or his body’s sensations for her own, but she could feel them. How much worse would it be when she held similar links with Obed and Fox? Belandra had said to expect the links to form.

  Fox spoke. “Someone’s coming. Over there.” He pointed.

  Kallista looked north, the direction their unmarked iliasti had ridden earlier, and saw Torchay at a distance, leading their mounts. “This knowing of yours may be quite helpful,” she said. “Test it. Find out what you can do.”

  “As you will it, Kallista.”

  They continued nort
h, traveling across the broad Adaran plains until they reached the Tunassa River. There they turned and followed the shallow, braided channel northeast. Eventually, it would lead them to the delta swamps surrounding Kishkim and the quasi-legal ocean traders headquartered there.

  Daily, Kallista called magic from her three godmarked men, testing it. She perfected the shield magic, though she still couldn’t extend it beyond her ilian even to the animals. She tried new spells, many of them suggested by Belandra on her occasional visits. Kallista still didn’t understand the rules that commanded Belandra’s appearance. They seemed linked to Kallista’s progress with the magic, but in no pattern she could discern. Sometimes Kallista wished Belandra would simply go away, but had to admit she was glad she didn’t. Annoying as Belandra’s eccentricities were, she still provided needful information.

  They had reached the thick forest bordering the swamps. The link with Fox allowing her to call his magic without touching had formed the week before. His sense of knowing had sharpened just as they’d hoped. Fox could guide his mount on his own and Torchay had begun testing his potential for self-defense.

  The link with Obed had only solidified that morning. It took longer, in Kallista’s opinion, because he had not been part of that original spell. She could call magic as they rode, sending it to spy out lurking smugglers, Tibran patrols or other predators. The magic had allowed them to keep the pack mules safe from a hunting jaguar, but what would keep Kallista’s sanity safe from the magic?

  When Belandra appeared as they set up camp that evening, Kallista moved away from the others. She made sure she was in Torchay’s view, but waved him back when he would have followed.

  “Is there any way to close off these links?” Kallista asked without preliminary, keeping her voice quiet.

  “Why would you want to?”

  “Goddess—” Kallista cut off the other, more pungent oaths. “Maybe it didn’t disturb you, but I like being alone in my mind every now and again. I don’t want to break the links, just—a door I can close when I need to.”

  Belandra frowned, propping a foot on a fallen tree and leaning forward to balance an elbow on her upraised knee. “I’ve never heard of such a thing, but then, I’ve never heard of a blind man knowing his surroundings without seeing them, or a naitan who could direct the dark veil. Your talents worry me, Kallista. I fear just how great an evil you face.”

  “The One will grant whatever is needed to defeat it.”

  “But you didn’t wait to be sure you’d collected all She granted, did you? Rushing away from Arikon with your links half formed—”

  “Fox still found us.”

  “What if he hadn’t?”

  “He did.” Kallista began to pace, fighting the urge to shout. “The One brought him to us. She will provide.”

  “But do you know what to do with what’s provided? You must embrace the links between you, and you want to close a door on them.” Belandra shook her head, standing straight. “Even if you could learn a way to do it, I advise against it. You need to be able to reach the magic with no more than a thought. If you could close a door, how long would it take you to open it again?

  “And what would happen to the marked ones while it was closed? You know how being too far from you affected them. Now the link is established, it could be worse to cut them off from you. Even temporarily. Why is this privacy so important? They can’t read your thoughts, nor can you read theirs. Just let them ride in the back of your mind until you need them.”

  Kallista scraped back the strands that had escaped from her queue. “If they would stay in the back of my mind, I would leave it. But they don’t. One of them is always pushing himself forward, demanding I be just as aware of him as he is of me.” She kicked at the straggly undergrowth in her path. “It wouldn’t be so bad if—but they’re all men. Do you know how often a man thinks about sex? They even dream about it.”

  “Great Goddess above.” Belandra’s oath brought Kallista to a halt, and she turned to stare at the dead woman.

  “Do you mean to tell me that you aren’t—” Belandra broke off to gesture. “Still? With any of them? Have you lost what dregs of sense you might once have had? How do you expect to forge the bonds you must have if you don’t—”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Sex has nothing to do with magic.” Kallista recognized the lie the minute she spoke it. With most magic, that was true, but this magic was somehow different.

  “It has plenty to do with trust and caring,” Belandra retorted. “For heaven’s sake, they’re your iliasti, not some pack of strangers.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. They are strangers, whatever else they are, and the state of my ilian is none of your business.”

  “Maybe not.” Belandra stabbed a finger toward Kallista. “But neither are they strangers. You know them, Kallista. Not just their physical or emotional state. You know their souls, and you’re lying to me and to yourself if you say you don’t. They’re yours, just as you are theirs, and if you want to beat this demon waiting for you, you had better accept that fact instead of kicking and screaming about it.”

  On that word, Belandra vanished.

  “Wait! You only answered one question.” Kallista turned in a circle, hunting the other woman. But she was gone.

  “Come back, damn you!” she shouted, reaching out with her magic, layering on more and more when she got no response, until she felt as if she stretched across the ocean to Tibre and a thousand years into the past. Still, Belandra refused to answer.

  Kallista broke the magic off, and Obed stumbled, almost falling into the fire where Aisse and Stone cooked their evening meal. She turned her back, refusing to move. He wasn’t hurt, not badly. Aisse could see to his burn. It wasn’t severe enough for even Torchay’s care, much less something requiring a healer.

  “Is everything all right?” Torchay’s rough tenor soothed the raw spots in her soul.

  “Fine.” This wasn’t right either, that Torchay’s mere presence could make her feel better. “Belandra left before she answered all my questions.”

  “Nothing new.” Torchay grinned his crooked grin. “You always have twice as many to ask as you’re allowed.”

  “Well, this time, she only answered one.” Kallista nursed her feelings of ill use, ignoring the truth that her behavior was more suited to a four-year-old than one thirty years older.

  “What did she say?” Torchay leaned back against a tree and folded his arms across his chest, making the muscles flex.

  Kallista resisted the strong urge to lean into him. It was only a reaction to the damn links. “Nothing of any importance. You look good in green.”

  He flushed, looking away. “Then what did Belandra say that wasn’t important?”

  Annoyed because he ignored her compliment, Kallista spoke without thinking. “She says I should be having sex with the marked ones.”

  Torchay didn’t react at all, and that hurt worse than realizing she’d intended to hurt him, and that she’d intended it because she didn’t want to be the only one suffering.

  “Then you should,” he said. “I don’t know why you aren’t. It’s not as if you don’t want them. I see you watching. Goddess knows they want you. Obed would fling himself off a cliff for nothing more than your smile. They all would.”

  “Stone would demand at least a kiss.” Kallista forced the words out, trying to keep things light.

  Torchay’s smile flickered and vanished. “Likely. So why don’t you?”

  It shouldn’t hurt like this. She was a rock, a mountain. She whirled to walk away.

  Torchay caught her arm, held her back. “Kallista—”

  She turned on him. “You want to know why? Because if I can’t have you, I don’t want them either.”

  “Then have me, dammit.” The iron control he kept on his expression shattered and his eyes blazed with passion. He yanked her close, crushing her to him with an arm around her back. His mouth covered hers in a devouring kiss and Kallist
a responded with equal hunger.

  She gripped his face between her hands to prevent his escape, but he showed no sign of wanting one. His tongue plunged deep into her mouth, echoing the motion of his hips as he rocked his rigid erection against her stomach.

  Kallista slid her hands up into his hair. Ripping free the cord tying his queue, she combed the braid loose until his waves fell like silk over her skin. She rose onto her toes, needing to bring him closer to the throbbing ache his kiss aroused. Torchay’s hand cupped her bottom, providing support.

  “Goddess, Kallista—” He breathed the words against her skin, kissing her cheeks, her lips, her eyes. “I love you so much.”

  “What?” She shoved him away, stumbling back to stare at him. “What did you say?” But she’d heard it.

  Torchay pulled in the arms that had held her, that still reached for her after she tore herself away, wrapping them around his stomach as if he’d been gutted again. “I—”

  “Don’t.” She shook her head. “Don’t say it. Don’t do it. Don’t. I can’t.”

  His smile was crooked, tender, tragic. It made her heart ache until she stomped on the feeling, crushed it and swept it away. “I know,” he said. “I never expected you to. I never meant you to know. I won’t say it again. But don’t ask impossible things, Kallista. Don’t ask me to stop. That, I can’t do.”

  “Goddess. I can’t do this.” She turned and ran into the forest, hunted by Torchay’s pain. She heard him speak, heard someone come crashing after her, and she ran faster. She couldn’t face any of them. Not now.

  Nor could she escape them. Torchay trusted the others to stand bodyguard, reluctantly, but he would not let her go off alone in this place. She stopped and waited for Stone. He stopped a distance away, letting his companion approach alone.

  “Aisse.” Kallista acknowledged her. It could be no one else. She was the only other one not linked.

  “What happened, naitan?”

  Kallista grimaced. She stepped over the fallen log where she’d stopped and sat down, her back to the camp. Aisse wasn’t the only one of her iliasti who had trouble calling her by her name. Fox used it only because she’d told him to and he did exactly what he was told. Obed stumbled over it every time he tried. Even Stone called her “captain” as often as not. It was a symptom of everything wrong with her ilian.