Mage Strike (The Enslaved Chronicles Book 2)

by R. K. Thorne

  She ran as fast as she could, bent into an awkward crouch to keep hidden amid the waving grains. At the bridge, she dashed off the path and through the water, doing her best to leave tracks up the other bank and into the field.

  In her haste, she didn’t notice the stray rock at the field’s edge until it was too late. Her foot met it sideways, bent wildly, and sent her reeling. Sharp pain twisted within her ankle and shot up her calf, and she muffled a cry. She fell, her body landing with a splat in the mud and her face narrowly missing being fully submerged in the water.

  She lurched upright and tried tentatively to put pressure on her foot. Pain arced up her calf.

  Damn. Change of plans, then. She looked around frantically. She had to buy herself some time.

  On the far side of the stream, under the bridge, she began to work. With her magic, she burrowed a small cave under the base of the bridge, a good four feet deep and wide, and limped inside, curling up in a ball. She cast the damn pack aside after it dug into her back, then rubbed her ankle as she gradually layered the wet mud back up in a high wall all around her, leading up to the base of the bridge above. Unless they were familiar with this bridge, they wouldn’t notice the newly expanded mud column supporting the far beam.

  She rubbed her ankle and shut her eyes. Would they follow her this way? Did they know her scent?

  Would this damned trick work? Let the earth please save her, just this once.

  The hoofbeats came closer. She was not fully encased in the soil and could see up between the slats of the bridge planks. She’d just have to hope they didn’t think to look down.

  “The hounds say this way!”

  Finally she could hear not only hooves, but the huffing of horses and panting of dogs. Shouting—and then sniffing—seemed to get louder and louder.

  “Er—across the bridge—”

  A horse thundered over the bridge above her, bits of dust and debris raining down.

  “Wait—no, the trail leads into the field. But—hrm.”

  “What do those damn dogs think they’re doing, going in circles like that?”

  A hideous growl sounded, barely a few feet away. Another. She didn’t want to think about what they would do if they found her. Would the dogs think to dig? Give her away?

  The tips of claws clipping along the wood planks told her one was approaching. When he reached above her, he whined. Thick, black paws scratched at the floorboards. Damn it, why did these men deserve all this power, and she so little? Where were her dogs to fight these bastards off? If she ever made it to Akaria, she would never let herself be caught so helpless again.

  Hmm… Come to think of it, though—was there something more she could be doing to defend herself? She had no staff, but maybe she could create something. She reached her mind out and felt her way down the wet earthiness of the stream’s edge. Couldn’t try anything too close and give away her presence.

  “Nefrana’s tears, now he’s digging in the bridge pillar. Why’d you make us bring these fool creatures?”

  “Shut up, they smell something. What’s your crystal say?”

  What crystal? Did they have a way to detect her presence somehow? Perhaps that was how she had been detected and captured in the first place. But that was before she’d had any training. She pushed it out of her mind and tried to focus her thoughts on the experiment she’d begun to form far down the riverbank.

  “Well, it’s all aflutter, but could just be a spell on the bridge makin’ it act up. Hard to say the source. But there’s no mage around here. C’mon. Let’s dig into that field. You two—ask around that town. Tell ’em to be on the lookout for a renegade mage. Should be considered very dangerous and may be killed on sight. That should make ’em quake in their boots at the thought of such nastiness creepin’ around their filthy hovels.”

  “Aye.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Wait, by the gods—”

  “What in the donkey’s balls is that?”

  What did they see? Had it worked? She’d done her best to mound up the mud downstream in the form of a small but hopefully vicious-looking dog. Could she make it move?

  The thing more slithered and slid than moved like a dog, but the earth complied with her pleas, moving itself like a living creature, splatting and splattering down the bank, away from Jaena’s hiding spot.

  “Take the dogs. Get—whatever that is. Go.”

  “No chance—I’m heading back!”

  She finally dared to breathe as she heard the last one take off—either toward the town or her earthen effigy or away in apparent terror.

  Huh. It had worked. She would have to remember that trick.

  She might be nearly incapacitated, but she had eluded them for now. When night fell, she could climb out of this cave and get on her way again. Until then, she could only wait.

  What else could be created from the soil? What else might such creations do? If only she’d had more time to learn the ways of combat for an earth mage. If only they hadn’t spent so much time forcing her to practice defending herself from Kae.

  No matter. She was on her own now, and she’d do just fine figuring it out by herself.

  “Can you also ask Enrial to send up some lunch to the small library? And clear it out of… anyone relaxing in there?”

  Fayton gave him a crisp nod. “I’ll see to the Takarans, my lord.”

  “What would I do without you, Fayton? I’ve kept you quite busy lately. It must have been nice to have me gone for a while.”

  “At least you present a challenge at times.” Fayton’s eyes twinkled.

  Aven hoped that was a compliment. “Have you seen Miara?”

  “In the Proving Grounds earlier, my lord. But she’s returned to her rooms now.”

  “Thank you.” Aven loped up the stairs to Miara’s rooms. What had she been doing there? The doors to her rooms stood open as he approached up the hallway. A sound caught his ears, and he stopped short.

  Humming. Or… singing?

  Indeed, inside her rooms, he could hear Miara’s voice but in a timbre he’d never imagined. The notes were not yet joyful and free, but they hinted at such lofty heights, flirting with abandon, but not quite reaching it.

  He stood for a moment, only listening. Strange how a voice could convey so much emotion. Strange how such a simple sound could stir him so, both mind and body.

  She was happy. But it was more than that, wasn’t it? She was happy here in Akaria with him. Or at the very least, because of him.

  He stepped closer as quietly as he could and rounded the corner, hoping to lean on the doorframe and admire her before she noticed him. His mouth fell open at the scene.

  Her room was flushed with life, quite literally. Climbing roses, their petals red as blood, snaked around the bedposts in the bedroom and climbed the walls of the sitting room toward the sky. Lush, green leaves fluttered in a drafty wind, and he wondered idly if he was the cause. Pots had appeared—were those the decorative ones from near the main gate? The plants grew as though they had lived a hundred years this way. Another pot by the bed overflowed with herbs and silver flowers. Another held an array of purple blooms he couldn’t hope to identify. The hearth was the only area not overtaken by the wild, and the fire blazed with its own joyful intensity.

  She must have heard him catch his breath because she turned, faltering. “Don’t stop on my account,” he said. She blushed. He understood, he couldn’t sing in front of other people either. Or carry a note half as good as that. “Look at all this. You’ve been busy.”

  She smiled. “You’re right, the mountain is stifling. Beautiful in its own way, but you did not exaggerate.”

  He stepped into the room. The air was fresh with the wet smell of plants and the fragrance of flowers. “No need to explain it to me.” He strode toward her, wanting to be closer. Not as close as he might want, but… closer.

  She met him halfway, and they stopped inches from each other. He lifted a hand and ran it tentatively along he
r cheek. Her hand slipped over his, and she leaned her face against his palm. “This place is stifling in another way too. There are so many people here. I miss… the road.” Of course, he knew she meant more than the road.

  “I miss it too,” he said. “The upcoming Assembly meeting means we’ll have to leave for Panar soon. You can see the White City. Unless you already have?”

  “No. You were my only mission into Akaria.” She pulled away slightly and pressed a kiss into his palm. Shivers ran through him, and it took every shred of his discipline to keep himself still and unmoving. All possible responses included things they shouldn’t yet be doing.

  Camil’s soft humming from the bath chamber resumed, closer now. Miara released his hand, and Aven took a quick step back as Camil fluttered into view. She carried a basket of linens, hummed more, and utterly ignored them.

  They stood awkwardly, not even successfully pretending that they had been doing something else, while Camil passed. Luckily, she paid them no mind.

  Miara relaxed as the humming faded down the hallway. “Did you come to eat? Should I call her back?”

  “I had… something in mind.” He smiled wryly.

  She let out a bark of laughter and folded her arms across her chest. “If you had that in mind, you better have brought a chain for that damn door. Or something stronger. Every time I lock it, they come back in anyway. Horses to ride us away from here could also come in handy.”

  His smile broadened into a grin. “I had something in mind… for lunch.”

  She snorted. “You are an eternal romantic.” He was about to insist that he was indeed an eternal romantic, but her grin had faded. “Lunch with guests?”

  “I thought you and Wunik and I could look over the… map.” He left out calling it the star map at the last second, wondering if anyone could be in the hallway listening. And someone still tottered about somewhere in the bedchamber. “Maybe he can translate more of it. Then later tonight, I want to gather up as many mages as we can and figure out what to do next. But I want to get his take on the map first.”

  She visibly relaxed. “That does sound like a good idea. Let’s go.” They headed out of the room and down the hall. “Do people keep pets here?” she asked as they went.

  “The roses aren’t enough for you, eh?”

  She smiled. “I’m just getting warmed up.”

  “I’ll need you to redo my room next.”

  “Perhaps we should start by you actually showing me your room.”

  “Oh. Yes, indeed. Tonight, perhaps?”

  “If your lordship desires it,” she said with a surprisingly seductive edge to her voice. He failed to stifle a delighted laugh. “And manages not to pass out.”

  “You could be quite the courtesan if this whole thing with me falls through.”

  She snorted.

  “You doubt my taste?”

  “I’m not… the graceful, glittering type.”

  “Well, you’re my type, that’s all I know. Akarians love tough women, you know.” Her smile was broader now. That had been the right thing to say. “I’m sure you can get a cat, dog, crow, owl, snake, beetle, squirrel, perhaps a mongoose from Takar—” His list was rewarded with a giggle. “My brother Dom has a pup. Well, a full-grown dog now. We can ask him, if you like. People do keep some pets, and if they don’t, I can’t say it’s because there’s a good reason not to. Not that this is the easiest place to take a dog outside, although I suppose that might be easier for you than most.”

  They turned a corner. She opened her mouth to say something else but stopped. Both their eyes caught on Derk, one of Wunik’s apprentices.

  “Ho! Miara, Prince Aven.” Derk trotted over to them. “Old Wunik’s banished us from his company again. Siliana and I are going for a ride. Would you care to join us?”

  He phrased his words as though addressing both of them, but he gazed only at Miara. Aven narrowed his eyes at the mage.

  “A ride does sound wonderful—” Miara started. Aven’s glare snapped toward her—did she really prefer a ride with this dolt to lunch with him? Her voice sounded sincere.

  “So dark down here, like a dungeon, by the gods.” Derk finally condescended to acknowledge Aven for a brief moment. “I don’t know how you stand it, really. I’m going mad.”

  “—but unfortunately, mundane duties keep us,” Miara finished.

  Us. You hear that, you cocky bastard? She said us, and she meant me and her, not you.

  What had gotten into him? Of course, the fact that he couldn’t assert any relationship between them with a clasped hand or arm around her waist didn’t help.

  “Ah, well, I am sure there will be more opportunities to take a ride in the saddle.” Derk gave her a wink. Aven barely stifled the need to throw him down the nearby stairs. If anyone were taking any saddle rides, it would not be this ignorant lout. “And perhaps if we ride too long, one of us will be in need of your services, my sweet healer, and we’ll come looking.”

  Miara did not return his warmth now. Her lips were pursed and brows drawn, cold as stone, but the mage didn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps he just didn’t care. Or was it that not everyone could read Miara as well as Aven could? “Siliana is quite accomplished,” she said. “A journeyman, isn’t she? Doesn’t that mean she’s more experienced than you?”

  Derk frowned in response.

  “I’m sure she’ll have no need of me. And if you’re nice to her, then perhaps you won’t have a problem.” Because you won’t be getting any healing from me, her words implied.

  Derk shrugged. “Next time, my friends.” And he sauntered off down the hallway.

  Aven rolled his eyes as they strode away. Gods, he knew that type. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. No matter what someone said, he’d ignore it and try to get his way. Such men made him glad he knew his way around a sword. Or mace or polearm or warhammer, if necessary.

  Both of them shaking their heads, they continued toward the library. At least Miara had been straight with him. That kind only used politeness against you. But had she really wanted to go on a ride with him?

  He didn’t have time to decide or sort through the implications before they reached the library. Wunik waited, hovering impatiently around the center of the room.

  “Thank the gods you’re here. I’d nearly decided to devour this without you. I only have so much restraint, you know.” Wunik spread his hands wide over a low table that held many diverse, tiny plates. Dumplings of every kind: meat, cheese, jam, potato, and onion. Breads, cakes, butters, a steaming roast. Urns of roasted carrots and pears poached in something sweet. Olives, dried fruits, dates. Wunik turned a raised eyebrow and a grin on Aven. “You mean to spoil me rotten, I think.”

  Aven smiled back. “Or tempt you to not go back into hiding. Or possibly my mother hopes to fatten us all so that we are too rotund to ever leave.” They tucked into a few of the delicacies. Libraries were not made for eating, and so he sat on the floor, legs crisscrossed in front of the low table. And with only a minute or two of hesitation, Miara followed and knelt at one end, by the array of dumplings.

  “I’m sorry we couldn’t do more for your family last night, Miara.” Wunik settled himself as well.

  Her face had lit up at the inspection of the treasures on the table, but now it fell ever so slightly. Would Wunik even be able to tell, or was it just something that Aven could see? “It’s… all right. We did our best.”

  “Still. We’ll try again tonight with the starlight.”

  “Of course. We saw Derk on the way here.” Miara popped a dumpling in her mouth. Eager to change the subject? “He wanted us to go with them out for a ride. You didn’t want them here?”

  Wunik frowned. “No. I didn’t. Not until I’ve seen this map. Derk is young. Ambitious. Siliana is too, honestly, and I’m glad of it at times. But she’s older, wiser. She’s seen more of the world. This map… It could be very dangerous.”

  “We didn’t tell him we were coming here,” she said. “I didn’t say
where we were going, just that we were occupied with ‘mundane duties.’ ”

  Wunik nodded. “Just as well. I won’t discuss this with them either.”

  Aven hunted down a napkin and cleaned the food off his fingers. “Well, let’s get to it then.” He cleared a place on a higher table next to Wunik’s armchair. This table was desk-height and well lit by the nearby hearth and candelabras and yet wasn’t too close to any of those sources of flame. He probably ought to make a mundane copy of the thing soon. Although, perhaps he should understand it better before he divulged its secrets into plain ink and vellum.

  Aven took the star map from a pocket and unfolded it carefully. “This—do you recognize this?”

  “Is this it? The map of the stars? The one they spoke of?”

  “Yes.” Aven blinked, simply admiring it for a moment. Such a strange and subtle gift from the past.

  “Sweet goddesses. This is what you used?”

  “Indeed. Here is Casel. I already knew the stars and some of these meanings, but they are written here in the old language. But others I can’t translate. And many of the characters are missing—they appear only in starlight.”

  “Yes, I see. There are actually two forms of Serabain here. An ancient version and a more modern one. Modern for an ancient language, that is. I doubt I can read the oldest, even if the missing pieces were here. You see this character? That one? Telltale signs of the older tongue. We’d need quite an expert in ancient languages to read these. But there is plenty to look at otherwise. Here she is—freedom. And joy. Intellect. Passion. Courage. Ferocity. And—” Suddenly the old man stopped short.

  “What is it?” Miara got up and joined them, leaning over the back of Wunik’s chair.

  “This is one of Zaera’s maps. Or it contains the same information.”

  “What do you mean?” Aven studied Wunik’s frown.

  “This is very dangerous indeed, my friends,” he breathed.

  “What does it say, Wunik?” Miara stepped closer.

  “Here. This one.” He pointed at a star Aven hadn’t been able to translate on the opposite side of the map of Casel. “I know the language well enough to guess what the letters would be. We can check it in starlight, perhaps, although we must do it discreetly.”