Julianne started to tell him no, that their party was full and they couldn’t possibly accommodate another, but she was cut off before she even had the chance to begin.
“That’d be just about perfect,” Garrett said. “Old Harker never meant to only send the two of us as guards, but what with all the last-minute changes, we couldn’t find an extra body.”
“And who’s paying for this extra body?” Julianne demanded. “I’ve already doubled my hire fee and paid an arm and a leg for the booking.” She prayed Marcus would take the hint.
“Oh, you don’t need to pay me. Like I said, I was going to head this way eventually, even if I had to go alone.” Marcus grinned, then waited for Julianne’s answer. Though his demeanor was nonchalant, she could feel his bated breath and his anxious hope that she would say yes.
She crumbled. Logic be damned, and bad ideas, too. She wanted him to come. “Fine. You’ve got your own supplies?” she asked.
“Sure do. I’m armed to the teeth, too. You won’t get through the Madlands without some magitech. Adrien was a dick, but he left behind some really nice stuff.”
“If you’re gonna brag about it, you’d better be sharing,” Garrett said.
“Of course! I’d never let a friend carry an inferior weapon.” Marcus winked and Garrett cracked up.
Julianne just rolled her eyes.
Marcus guided his horse so it fell in beside her as the party of six left the city. “I’m sorry. I put you on the spot, I know.”
“Bullshit. You’re not sorry; you planned that down to the minute,” she murmured to him.
He shrugged. “Guilty as charged.”
Julianne glanced away, only to catch Danil’s eye. Her heart sank when she realized, for the first time, he’d completely blocked her from his mind. Pain lanced her chest, and she looked away, staring at the road, lips pressed tightly together.
What had she been thinking?
It’s fine, really, Danil sent. Don’t worry about me.
Danil…
I just need a bit of time.
Cursing, Julianne nudged her horse ahead to ride lead with Bette, who’d taken Garrett’s place from the day before.
“What do you think—” Bette started, then caught sight of Julianne’s face. “What’s wrong?”
Julianne winced. It was unlike her to let her emotions be so visibly on display. As the leader of a group of people who could read minds, she’d long since mastered the art of calmness. Now, however, she was away from the safety and familiarity of the Temple, and dealing with emotions that were otherwise quite foreign to her.
“Just… men,” was all Julianne offered.
“Oh, aye. That pretty one?”
Julianne didn’t have to delve into Bette’s mind to confirm she meant Marcus. He was pretty, with those big brown eyes and floppy hair. His smile was contagious, and not just to women. Marcus had an easy air about him that made him easy to be friends with and invoked a feeling of trust.
“Aye,” Julianne said, shooting Bette a grateful glance.
“I suppose it’s a bit awkward, what with Danil mooning over ye. D’ye think anything will happen with either of them?”
“No. Maybe. Oh, hell, I don’t know.” She didn’t want to think about it either.
“Well, if ye ask my advice, and ye should, I say make ‘em both wait until ye know yer own heart. As long as ye do that, everything will work out.” Bette gave Julianne a reassuring grin.
“That’s very good advice, Bette.”
Conversation ceased as they reached the farmlands surrounding the city. They rode the horses harder there, setting a steady pace that would—with luck—hold over the next few days.
The grassy hoofbeats and sharp breeze made casual conversation difficult, which suited Julianne. She didn’t reach out mentally, except to occasionally check on their party. Instead, she concentrated on the ride, making sure she sat the horse well and wasn’t wearing the animal down.
They reached a stream when the sun was at its peak, and a brief discussion led to the decision to stop for lunch. Julianne nibbled at a strip of jerky while her horse pulled at the long grass by the water.
“What’s her name?” Bette asked, catching Julianne staring at the horses.
“Whose name?”
“The horse.” Bette’s eyebrows shot up when Julianne shrugged. “What? How can a pretty beast like that not have a name?”
“I don’t know. It never occurred to me. She’s just a horse, after all.”
“Bloody mystics.” Bette threw her hands up in the air. “Ye spend all yer time with feelin’ and thought, and never once spare one fer yer animals. I’m not goin’ another step until that horse has a name.”
“Gertrude,” Julianne said immediately.
“A pretty name.” Bette rolled her eyes. “Like Stardust, for the white smatter across her flank. Or Lightning, though she’s not overly fast. Hmm. It needs to be a gentle name, but one that’s strong.”
Julianne regarded the horse with skepticism. The mare continued to pull at weeds, looking unperturbed by her lack of a name. Still, Bette seemed insistent. The white patch under the horse’s belly merged with the patchy grey of her coat. “Cloud Dancer?” Julianne suggested.
“Perfect. You watch, she’ll be a right friend to ye now.” Bette stuffed the last of her bread into her mouth, then stood. “That’s enough lollygagging. We’d best be off, before we lose too much time.”
Garrett hoisted a groaning Bastian to his feet. “Give it a few days, lad. Yer ass’ll toughen up.”
“Not before it falls off,” Bastian muttered.
“Come on, don’t want to let the ladies show us up, eh?” Marcus winked at Bastian as he sprang onto his horse.
Bastian ignored him. He rankled at the new addition to their party, and seethed at the disrespect the guard had shown Master Julianne. He’d seen flashes of their previous encounter in Marcus’s mind—Julianne and Danil had both been locked down tightly since Marcus had joined them—and though nothing had happened then, Marcus had felt Julianne was interested in him.
Bastian stifled a snort as he pulled himself up on his horse. Julianne would never associate with someone like that. The man didn’t have an ounce of class.
Gritting his teeth, Bastian guided his horse to the middle of the line. Once they were moving steadily, he slipped into a light meditation to numb the pain in his legs.
By the time they reached the Madlands, three days on a horse had both helped and hindered Bastian’s efforts in the saddle. His muscles were slowly adjusting and his posture had improved, but the relentless travel drained him of all enthusiasm for the journey. He was tired, crabby, and sore from head to toe, not to mention covered in grime.
The young mystic, lost in desperate meditation, didn’t notice the changing in the air until the horses stopped.
“No place like home,” Marcus said. He drew a deep breath in through his nose, wrinkling it at the acrid scent. He slipped off his horse and patted her neck, then tied her to a straggling branch. “We rest, now. Spend the night here and set off into the Madlands fresh and rested.
“But—” Julianne’s disagreement was cut off before it was voiced.
“Nay, lass. He’s right. The Madlands is not a place to wander into tired and unprepared,” Garrett said.
Julianne considered for a moment, then nodded. Marcus was already half unpacked, with his saddlebags open and a small lean-to on the ground beside him.
“Even here, I want eyes watching through the night. If one of those bastards wanders too far, it’ll be on us without warning. I’ll take first watch, Garrett the second. Bette can round out the remaining hours while the rest of you get some sleep.”
“I’d offer to take a turn, but…” Danil shrugged one shoulder and grinned. “Don’t think I’d be much use.”
“Uhh… I could take a watch. If you need me to, I mean.” Bastian looked thoroughly displeased at the idea.
“No, you rest. Tomorrow night will b
e different, double guard, all night. Enjoy it while you can.” Marcus smiled to take any sting out of his words, and threw his pack on the ground. “No fire tonight, or any night while we’re in the hot spot.”
Julianne shivered at the thought of sleeping without a heat source. She, Bastian and Danil could make themselves comfortable through meditation, but the others would have to suffer the chill. If it got too cold, no mind trick would stop the reality of frostbite.
They set up camp before nightfall, then sat and talked, voices low and conversation sparse. The looming presence of the Madlands stifled the group’s usual banter, and each small noise smothered the group in silence as they wondered what it might be.
As soon as the sun dropped below the mountains, Julianne crawled into her bed, Bette following behind.
“You lot should go to sleep, too. Garrett, I’ll wake you when it’s time?” Marcus whispered.
“Aye. Just give me blankets a good kick, and I’ll be up.”
Bastian, Danil, and Garrett soon left for bed, leaving Marcus alone in the dark. He stood, stretching his tender muscles.
Too damn long in that town, he thought.
He wasn’t lying when he said he was itching to get back out here. He’d been part of a group that guarded the border between the Madlands and Arcadia.
They’d killed any remnant that came close to crossing over, and it seemed they’d done their job well. The incursions reduced, forcing the guards to go days without seeing action or, more likely, sending them into the hot zone to find it.
Marcus hated cities. Too crowded and close, with the stink of other people all around. Here? Clean air, fresh water, and the chance to swing a weapon once in a while. Oh, sure, it was dangerous—but so was walking through the streets of Arcadia at night. Marcus much preferred to face off with a slavering beast than with a man who’d just made a bad choice.
He walked the perimeter of their tiny camp, watching for any sign of movement in the darkness—not that it would help. He knew he’d hear the remnant before he saw them. Sneaking wasn’t one of their strong suits.
A rustle in the bushes made Marcus pause in his circuit, heart in his mouth, muscles ready to spring into action. A squirrel darted out from a bush, and he immediately relaxed. It scampered past the tents, stopping twice to sniff the air before racing off into the darkness.
When the moon dipped close to the tree line, Marcus gave Garrett a gentle nudge with the toe of his boot. When the rearick didn’t budge, he nudged harder. The third time was a solid kick, causing Garrett to choke on a snore and sit bolt upright, hand on the sword he’d left next to his bedroll.
“Shh. It’s your shift,” Marcus whispered.
“Aye. Right. Erm…” Garrett shook his head roughly, then looked up with clear eyes and a grin. “Right then! Off to bed with ye.”
Marcus lay down, thankful he hadn’t had to endure another night of the rearick’s thunderous snoring. As he rolled over to sleep, his thoughts drifted away from issues of safety and preparedness to the girl lying just a few feet away in another tent.
Chapter Nineteen
Dawn broke with a fight between two angry birds. The cacophony brought everyone out, Bette cursing the feathered foes while Danil laughed at Bastian who was shaking his fist at them.
Julianne sucked in a deep breath. The air was different here. Some tinge to the freshness, an odor she wasn’t used to. It wasn’t strong enough to put a finger on it, but it was there. The mystic quickly performed her morning meditations, then readied herself to go. Marcus slipped up beside her as she was fastening the saddlebags on her horse.
The weapon in his hand was one she’d seen before, a magitech device that would cause serious damage to anyone he used it against. Julianne wasn’t exactly sure how it worked, but she was reassured by the confidence with which he carried it.
“You’re sure you know what you’re in for out there?” he asked quietly.
Julianne nodded. “I’ve heard the stories, seen some things.” She didn’t mention the ‘things’ she’d seen were from his own mind—memories of hard fights, sparse rations, and adrenalin-filled hunts for the scavenging beasts of the Madlands.
“If you’re still sure you want to do this… we travel fast.” He glanced around as though already on the lookout for danger. “Don’t split up, ever, not for any reason. A larger party will work against us, but the benefit in numbers still applies. Besides, I don’t trust anyone here to lead a group all the way through, except maybe Garrett. If he died, whoever was with him would go down like a stone.”
Julianne blanched, but he continued. “If someone is left behind, they’re dead, so no one gets left behind unless they already are. No fires; no loud noises. No hunting, either. I swear those bastards can smell fresh blood from a mile away. If we get caught out, end up in a bad place, we sacrifice a horse. Or all of them, if that’s what it takes.” He watched Julianne’s face as it drained of blood. Her chin twitched, just the tiniest bit, and she pressed her lips together.
Then, she nodded curtly. “Thank you, Marcus. I’m glad you’re with us.”
He grinned. “You don’t shake easily, do you?”
It was Julianne’s turn to smile. “If I recall, it was you doing the shaking when we were in the Frozen North.” They’d travelled together when she was masquerading as Stellan, one of Adrien’s guards, during the rebellion in Arcadia.
They had trekked through bad weather, two strangers with little trust between them, Marcus working for the people Julianne had been working against. Though she’d told him how close she’d been to pushing him off a high ledge at the time, she didn’t think he really believed it.
With a wink, she turned away and put one foot in a stirrup. “Hurry up. Just because no one gets left behind doesn’t mean we’ll wait all day for you, soldier.”
Barking a laugh, Marcus strode back over to the campsite. Julianne watched as he kicked dirt and leaves about, covering the signs they’d camped there. He then checked that the rest of the team was ready to go.
When he approached Bastian, he pulled something out of his pocket. Julianne didn’t recognize the device, but figured it was magitech when she glimpsed the small glowing stone set into the side.
Marcus leaned his head close to Bastian, probably discussing how it worked. When Marcus stepped back, Bastian lifted it up.
A hollow thud sounded, and the tree in front of Bastian shook, shards of bark scattering into the air as a chunk exploded. The big tree still stood, but it looked like someone had cleaved a messy chunk out of it with a giant axe.
“Just like that,” Marcus said. “It may not take a man out in one shot, and it takes a moment to recharge, but that’ll buy me time to save your ass in a fight.”
“Seriously?” Bastian asked. “With one of these, it’ll be me saving your ass.” He pocketed the device as Marcus laughed.
“I’d lay money on you blowing your own balls off before that happens. Besides, these are no good—” Marcus patted his own weapon, a long, staff-like piece of magitech “—unless you know how to fight. Not just lay down a punch or shoot a weapon, but fight. Anticipate. Predict. Plan.”
Bastian took the friendly warning for what it was, self-consciously adjusting himself as he grimaced at the bulge in his pocket where the weapon sat. After a moment’s thought, he pulled it out and tossed it in his pack. Garrett laughed behind him, but the young mystic didn’t seem fazed by the teasing.
Despite the change in plans, she was glad to have Marcus with them, and not just for the weapons he’d brought. Taking Danil into the Madlands worried her. As helpful and kind hearted as he was, not to mention as proficient back at the Temple, she knew his disability was a liability out here. Having Bastian along as well worried her even more.
They wove down into the valley in a single file. The trees down here were a different species from those that grew through most of Irth. Stark, white trunks stretched so far overhead they couldn’t see the tips, while branches spread out to the s
ides and dropped pine-scented needles to the forest floor.
Julianne reached out and trailed her fingers along a nearby branch. She sniffed it gingerly, and screwed up her face. Yes, it was the trees that smelled. Instead of fresh and clean, the pine here had a sharp, coppery odor.
“They say the smell is from all the blood the trees have soaked up, remnant and our people alike,” Marcus called from behind.
“Every place has its ghost story.” Julianne glanced over her shoulder, but quickly jerked her head back as her horse nosed around a bend in the trail. “Is it all like this?” she asked.
“No,” Marcus replied. “Just wait. You’ll see.”
He wouldn’t elaborate, and Julianne let him have his secrets. Delving into his mind during this part of the journey would be foolhardy. She needed every ounce of concentration she had to navigate her horse down the winding path and keep her from placing a foot wrong on the twisted roots below. Finally, the forest thinned out, and Julianne gaped at the sight before her.
The trail emerged into a valley scattered with old ruins. Buildings jutted out of the low-lying greenery. Some had crumbled to almost nothing, others stood tall in some semblance of the dignity they’d once had. Vines and creepers snuck through cracks and chasms, and trees stretched up from windows turned askew by failing foundations.
Julianne shuddered as she wondered what Arcadia or even the Temple would look like decades after the humans had left.
“What’s that?” Bastian sent Julianne the image of what he was seeing, and she swung her head around to look. By the path ahead, a sculpture of twisted metal jutted out of the thick trunk of a tree.
“Ancient ruins,” Marcus explained. “My old commander said the tree must have grown into the metal, and around it.”
Julianne rode past slowly, unable to tear her eyes away from it. It wasn’t until a gasp from Bette that she focused on what lay ahead.
A New Dawn- Complete series Page 10