by Jade Lee
"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped, though in truth, she'd been having second thoughts since the moment she'd first conceived this plan. "I can't find Steve. The dratted boy disappeared last night, and he hasn't come back."
Daken mounted his horse, his thoughts clearly distracted. "Steve? He's staying with one of the villagers until we return. I thought you knew."
She whirled around, turning the full blast of her frustration on him. "How could I know when none of you ever talk to me? He's all right then?"
"Of course, he's all right."
She nodded, immensely relieved to have at least one problem solved. Then a thought hit her, and she started worrying at her lip again. "Do you think he'll be all right? I mean as a mute..." Her voice trailed off, wondering if any pair of hands were welcome. Or if, even here in Toedo, he'd be an outcast mute boy.
Daken just laughed at her worried expression.
"They'll treat him like royalty. Probably better than royalty. Jane, he's a wizard and a gift from the Father for these people."
Jane felt her eyes widen with shock. "He's a what?"
"A wizard."
"And a gift from the God," echoed Jane, remembering her prayer of last night. She shook her head. "So the fireballs came from Steve."
Daken nodded, clearly amazed she hadn't figured it out before. "He's not so bad. I didn't think you could be a mage without words, but—"
"You don't need words," she said, recalling what Kyree told her. "It's a mental focusing." Her voice trailed away as she tried to simultaneously mount her horse and fit this new information to her image of Steve.
"He's good, too," Daken added, amazement in his voice. "I'd never have guessed it of him, but there it is."
There it is, Jane repeated to herself. The small frightened boy she rescued from Borit was a mage. How could that be? And if it were true, why had he kept it a secret? It was the way to instant respect, even in the college.
"I guess I don't blame him," commented Daken as much to himself as to her. "Given the prophesy about how he'd be a great wizard, he'd have to perform to greatness immediately. And then people would try to use him or abuse him. Jealousy, envy, hatred, it would all have been there."
Jane had forgotten about the prophesy surrounding the boy. And given Daken's experiences, she was sure he knew better than most about expectations and envy, but it still seemed a crying shame that Steve had to hide his ability from everyone. What a terrible secret for a boy. Or just another burden for an abused boy.
Jane shook her head. "At least he's showing it now. Perhaps he will get some of his self-respect back." Unable to do anything more for Steve, Jane focused on trying to readjust to sitting in a saddle. Although she had learned to ride, she still wasn't comfortable doing it.
Daken glanced at her, lifting an eyebrow as they moved outside of the village wall. "He's already got his self-esteem back. From you."
Jane jerked her attention back to Daken. "From me?"
"Haven't you seen how he wears those new clothes you gave him?"
"Everyone likes new clothes—"
Daken shook his head. "It's more than that. Have you seen him polish his belt buckle? The large circle—"
"Letter O," she corrected.
He waved it off. "He's got that look. I've seen it in men who get a plot of land for the first time. There's amazement, awe, a little fear, and a lot of pride all mixed together."
Jane smiled, wanting to believe whatever else she had done, her time with Steve had been for good. But reason told her different. "Daken, the boy's bright. And he's a mage. He would have made it with or without my help."
"But it was with your help. You saw something in him that took me a lot longer to notice. You had faith in him before any of us, and that's given him his self-respect."
"Maybe," she mumbled, her eyes already pulled to the horizon as they crossed into Tarveen-controlled land.
He followed her gaze, but his comment brought her attention back to the boy. "I hope you realize you've got a great responsibility to the boy."
"What?"
"Why do you think he's so protective of you?"
Jane shrugged. "I suppose because I'm the first one who ever really cared about him as a person."
"Exactly."
"What's your point? I shouldn't beat the boy or turn on him? I thought you knew me better."
Daken frowned at her. "No," he responded levelly, his gaze now encompassing the horizon. "You shouldn't take unnecessary risks with your life. How will he feel, experiencing love for the first time, if you were to suddenly die?"
Jane felt a lump close down her throat. Daken's words were delivered with such an even, unemotional tone she might have thought he didn't care. But she knew him better now, enough to realize he struggled with his own feelings, sorting through thoughts he probably didn't want to admit to. And that made her wonder if he spoke about himself or Steve. Did he think he was in love? With her? She could hardly dare to hope. As soon as she began grappling with the hunger sparked by that thought, the rest of his words seeped into her soul.
What if she died today?
Daken was right. She did have another reason to come out of their rescue mission alive. Her own hopes for a future with Daken aside, she needed to help Steve. Especially now that he openly revealed his abilities as a mage. She must be there to help him deal with pressures to come.
"I won't fail him," she said softly, speaking to Daken's stern profile. "Or you."
He glanced at her, his expression fierce, but his eyes bleak with a fear that tore at her as it must eat at him. "See that you don't."
Then he spurred his horse ahead to speak with the leader of his men.
* * *
It was noon by the time they reached Detroit, or rather what was left of it. The place was a wasteland, not from a nuclear warhead, although naturally that was the original devastation. The current problem was the Tarveen.
Up until now, Jane had clung to the idea that the Tarveen were human. She discounted Daken's protests that they were monsters as the propaganda of a man trying to eradicate a race. Even Dr. Beavesly's rather hazy memories of the Tarveen colony didn't damage her belief they were people. Mutants, yes. Cannibals, yes, but human in their core.
As they disembarked from the boat, she felt her first stirring of doubt. What human colony wantonly destroyed the very environment they inhabited? There was filth everywhere. She'd expected at least some cultivation of the land, a few crops maybe, something, but the land was completely stripped. No trees, no grass, nothing except mud and dirt and filth.
She looked around her, shock in every breath she took. "What kind of people are these?"
"I told you, they aren't people," Daken repeated for the thousandth time, readjusting her backpack on his shoulders. They decided hers was sturdier and the better pack despite its neon yellow strips. Hers was also waterproof, and therefore a safer carrier for the Tarveen Holy Book.
"Why aren't there any about?" She covered her nose, trying to shut out the stench brought by the stale breeze.
"The Tarveen sleep during the day. There won't be any about until dusk."
She nodded, then turned her troubled gaze onto the horizon. Daken's gaze focused on her, studying her face and her expressions with an angry air.
"What is it, Jane?" His voice was harsh and demanding.
She just shook her head. "That stuff about them sleeping during the day. I should know that."
Daken nodded, grimly agreeing with her.
"Dr. Beavesly's memories are usually so clear and specific. He was a trained observer with a very organized mind. But not when it came to the Tarveen."
"The Tarveen upset many people. I've seen grown men run in terror at the sight—"
"No, it's not that. He was a spirit..." At Daken's confused expression, she stumbled into an explanation even she found hard to understand. "He was an Old One attached to the computer. Both alive and not alive at the same time."
"And it is his memo
ries you turn to as Keeper?"
Jane nodded. "Except whenever it has to do with the Tarveen, they're fuzzy. As though they're repressed or something. I don't understand it, and it bothers me."
Daken swore beneath his breath. "Are you telling me you don't know where this entrance is?"
Jane looked up, startled by the venom in his tone. "No, of course not. I have a clear picture of the whole area, but in all that, I can't grasp a full memory of a Tarvite."
"Perhaps this doctor tried to spare you the sight."
Jane shook her head, knowing that wasn't it. "There's something I'm missing. Some memory, some key. I just have to find it..."
Daken dismissed her strange words with a wave of his hand. "If you know this secret entrance, then that is enough."
Jane shook her head. "Not enough, but it's all we have."
With a sigh, she started to pick her way through the debris toward what once was an automobile factory. Daken followed, his impatience with her was clear.
"How far away is this entrance?"
She lifted her arm, pointed to a pile of broken rock and steel girders. "Just behind th—!"
He moved faster than lightening. One moment they were talking, picking their way up a trash-choked hill. The next second, he held his bastard sword poised to strike and jerked her behind him with a force that wrenched her arm painfully in its socket.
He stared at a jagged block of concrete just to their right. "Come out now, Tarvite," he growled.
"Do they understand Common?" she asked, her voice hushed and low.
"I have never tried to talk to one before."
Jane remained well behind Daken, giving him room to fight, but even so, she craned her neck around, trying to see behind the obstruction.
They heard the movement long before they saw anything. Something scrambled over the ruins, pushing aside the rocks and pebbles clotting the area.
"Stay here," Daken ordered as he began edging around enough to see, but not enough to leave the relatively open, flat ground. Jane followed a pace behind, needing to see almost as desperately as she needed to stay within close proximity to Daken. There was something evil about this place. Something so horrible even Dr. Beavesly couldn't face it.
The sounds came closer. Whoever or whatever it was, wasn't bothering to disguise his approach.
"See anything?" she asked, her throat tight with fear.
Daken waved her to silence as he continued to edge around. Jane spared a glance behind her. The land remained as still as before, so she returned her nervous sight to the concrete blocking their view.
It was almost upon them. She could hear heavy breathing. She tensed, though God only knew what she would do. She had her dagger, the one Daken gave her so long ago. But from what she'd heard, if she got close enough to use it on a Tarvite, it was already too late.
She saw Daken drop to a crouch, his sword ready to strike, clearly intending to catch it by surprise. Jane bit her lip, wondering how she felt about that. Amazing how her anti-violence sentiments seemed to waver when fear began eating at her insides.
Then suddenly, she saw it. A dirty, blond head seemed to pop over the top, quickly followed by small shoulders and a thin chest, all of which froze at the sight of Daken springing forward sword high.
"Steve!" she screamed, trying to warn both the boy and Daken. It wasn't necessary. Daken had already seen him and checked his blow mid-swing.
"By the Father, boy! Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
Steve's eyes were huge, pale blue pools trained on Daken's sword which shook slightly as Daken sheathed the blade. The boy still hadn't moved. Jane doubted he even breathed.
"Steve. Steve!" she yelled, finally breaking through his slight trance. Then she dropped her voice to a deceptive calm. "Why don't you come up here, and we'll have a little chat." Truth of the matter was, if Daken didn't horse whip the stupid kid, she would. And with pleasure.
Little did the boy know, he was in more danger from her than he was from the very self-controlled warrior. Steve slowly stood, carefully stepping out from behind the concrete and crossed to Jane. She gave him a grim smile, seeing how he gave Daken a wide berth.
Steve stopped in front of her, his face impassive, his eyes steady. She leaned down over him and pitched her voice low and menacing. "I don't know why you're here, and I don't care. It's bad enough you followed us from Bosuny, but to come here is outside of enough, do you hear me? I don't want your protection. I don't need your protection. And mage or not, you're more of a danger to us than a help! So get your skinny little butt to the boat before I take you over my knee and spank you until my hand breaks. Have you got that?"
She pointed to the boat quietly swaying in the water like a giant rocking chair. Narrowing her eyes, she noticed what must have been Steve's horse, tethered to a tree near the edge of the water. Fine. Maybe one of the more healthy captives could ride it back to Toedo.
The rescue was her first priority, but before she focused on that, she needed to send one recalcitrant, thirteen year old boy packing. She turned back to him, expecting to see a sulking child stomp past her. To her astonishment, Steve didn't move. He continued to stare at her, his back rigid and his chin in the air.
"Steve. I'm not kidding here. I will spank you, and if you don't believe me, then believe King Daken. He's been wanting to tan your hide for weeks."
Steve didn't move.
Jane ground her teeth and raised her hand. She dreaded the thought of striking a child, but the boy had to be disciplined. He had to learn to obey for his own good.
To her astonishment, Daken stepped forward and pulled her hand down. Then he crouched low enough to look eye to eye with Steve. "Do you know where we are?"
Nod.
"Do you know what we're going to do?"
Another grave nod.
"You think you can help us, don't you?"
This time, Steve shot Jane a witheringly proud glare, then nodded once, emphatically.
"Do you understand the risks? We will probably die in there."
Jane had enough. "He's a child, Daken. Worse, he's a teenage boy. How can he know the consequences? They all think they're immortal."
Both males ignored her as Steve nodded, his small body poised, his pale blue eyes steady and clear.
Daken asked one more question, his voice gravelly with resignation. "This is your choice?"
Another nod.
"Then I accept your comradeship with gratitude."
"What?" Jane exploded behind him. She stepped forward ready to carry the kid kicking and screaming to the ship if necessary. There was no way he was coming with them, but Daken stopped her, grabbing her shoulders and pinning her against him. Then he turned her around, roughly shaking her as she fought him.
"Look at him, Jane. Really look."
Jane twisted out of Daken's hold, shoving him off of her as she stared at Steve. He looked the same as always. He wore the clothes she had bought him, now a little worn and holey, especially over the knees. The "O" of his belt buckle glinted silver in the light, and she knew what Daken said about him polishing it must be true. But what she saw most was the small body, thin frame, and childish face with grave, sad eyes.
"I'm looking," she snapped.
"Do you see him? Do you see the man?"
"I see a boy. A stubborn, willful boy who doesn't have the sense God gave a mule."
"Wrong, Jane." Daken's voice was soft beside her, but no less firm. "He knows what he's doing. He knows the risks, and he's taking responsibility for this choice."
"Bull sh—"
"Stop thinking like a mother. He's not your child. He's not a child at all."
Jane turned her back on Steve, throwing her anger at Daken while she fought tears she didn't understand. "Don't be ridiculous. He's only thirteen."
"Age doesn't matter. He's a man. He's taken responsibility for his own actions and choices. Some people never do that. I didn't until my brother die—was captured."
"That's
macho nonsense."
"Don't be stupid, Jane. You've supported him up until now. Don't hurt him just because you can't part with the thought of having him stay a child."
Jane bit her lip and turned away, not wanting to hear Daken's words, but when her eyes cleared, she looked again at Steve. Not the frightened boy she'd rescued a few weeks ago, but the mage Steve. The man in a child's body.
She didn't notice it immediately. She took in the pieces, bit by bit, reluctantly allowing them to add up. She saw his steady regard, calm and reserved in the face of her hostility. She noticed his composure as he waited for her acknowledgement, but she also took in his lifted chin and the steely determination in every line of his body.
"You've decided to join us, haven't you?"
A nod.
"And unless we lock you up on the boat, you'll come whether we like it or not."
A strange light glinted in Steve's eye, and Daken stepped forward to explain it. "He's a mage. A locked door won't hold him, and he's the only one who can spell it shut."
Jane swallowed the acrid taste of fear, but it only settled into her stomach, burning there with a raw ache. "This is male foolishness. You don't take a child on a rescue mission."
"I don't take foolish women either, but I'm taking you. And Steve." Then he turned away from her, dismissing her as he would a lesser member of his staff. "Here's your task, Steve. You will follow Jane, memorizing the route along the way. When we get to the captives, you will lead them out and to the boat. I don't want you fighting except from a distance—"
"He shouldn't be fighting at all," Jane snapped.
Once again, she was ignored by both of them.
"I'm entrusting my people to you, Steve. No matter what happens to me or Jane, you must get them to the boat. Understand?"
Steve nodded, a compulsive swallow the only crack in his composure. But Jane's attention had changed. She heard something in Daken's voice, a slight catch as he said their names, and that small break chilled her blood.
"What do you mean, whatever happens to you and me? What are you planning?"
Daken stood and faced her, his expression as resolute as Steve's. "Once inside, you will show me the way to the nursery."