A New Dawn- Complete series

by Michael Anderle

  “I… I was watching your attack. I’m sorry, I know it was dangerous. I just wanted to see what it was like, in case you ended up like Danil. I thought maybe if that happened, if I saw it, I could help.”

  “Bastian, why. Why the bread, why the paper?”

  Bastian blushed and dropped his eyes to the ground, uncertain. “It felt like you’d forgotten what it was like to be human. Like as soon as you entered that… that thing’s head, you were one of them.”

  He paused, trying to remember what had spurred his automatic reaction. “When Mavis taught us about entering the mind of a person in a panic, she said that can happen. She told us it can make us panic, too, and the best way to ground yourself is to remember the present. I just... wanted you to remember, I guess.”

  Julianne paused. Then, maternal instinct took over, and she dashed over to envelop him in a tight hug. “You clever, clever boy.”

  Dropping him abruptly, she flew to Danil’s side, crouched down and placed her hands on his head. The contact wasn’t necessary, but would help her focus.

  Danil.

  She didn’t enter his mind, instead cloaking herself in the feel of home. The musky smell of the Temple library. The gentle hum of the dining hall. Zoe, her bright face smiling in a shaft of sunlight. The leathery creases of Margit's hands. Cold, stone walls and footsteps so often trod that he didn’t need to see to navigate.

  Jules? Jules... I remember.

  Tears slipped down Julianne’s face as she bombarded him with memories, feelings, sensations from home.

  Never thought I’d find you crying over me. Danil’s wistful sending brought a joy like no other and she leaned down to wrap her arms around his limp body. When a shaking hand rose up to caress her hair, she sobbed.

  Bitch and Bastard, Danil. I was so afraid.

  You wouldn’t bet against me, would you? Danil wriggled and she let go, helping him to sit. You didn’t even give me a chance to make any money off it.

  ‘How do you feel?” she asked, wiping her face.

  “Like something the Bastard shat out after a hard night on the spirits.” Danil scrunched his face and his eyes flickered white, then cleared. “Looks like I’m off the magic for a while, too. Damned if I wouldn’t kill for a flask of elixir now. Or mead. Even that piss the rearick drink would do.”

  “Hey, now,” Garrett said. “You lot are downright complimentary this morning, aren’t ye?” He shook his head and continued over to the horses. “Glad yer back with us, Danil, but I’m afraid there’s no rest fer the wicked. Yer soldier lad over there needs to make haste to the nearest town before he bleeds out like a gutted…” Garrett caught sight of Julianne’s white face and immediately changed tack. “Er, well he needs some stitches is all. I’m sure the lad’ll be fine.”

  Julianne bit her lip and Danil nudged her with one shoulder. “Go on. I’m not going anywhere. Except for a piss, so unless you want to help me with that?”

  Julianne stood as Danil motioned Garrett over for some assistance. She headed to Marcus, who sat talking with Bette. His eyes didn’t leave Julianne’s face, despite the serious conversation they seemed to be having.

  “Marcus, you didn’t tell me you were hurt!”

  “That’s because he’s a man. Stubborn, they are,” Bette proclaimed. “He’ll live as long as it heals over and stays clean, though he’ll have a scar to show for it.”

  “Do we have anything to clean out wounds?” Julianne asked, frowning. One of the stipulations of the rearick contracts stated that they were responsible for bringing equipment for emergencies.

  “Aye, but it needs a proper goin’ over, and I don’t think making him bleed all over the hot zone is the best idea.”

  “How far?” Julianne asked, repeating Bette’s earlier question.

  “A half day’s walk should get us somewhere safe enough.” Julianne frowned, and Marcus explained. “There's a good chance the remnant who attacked us were from the same area as the one that fell and died. They were likely in her pack, and followed us. It’s unusual to find a group hunting this close to the Madlands edge.”

  “Marcus, how could you know that? You said yourself, you’ve never been this side.”

  “The intelligence comes through regularly. More traders are crossing the borders and keeping us updated. Look, it’s no guarantee, but I’m confident.” And I don’t want to ride all bloody day with a hole in my side.

  Julianne nodded, as much at his words as the trail of thought that followed them. “I trust you.” She meant it. This man was their leader, and she would follow him to the ends of the world.

  Marcus quirked a smile. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

  “As much as I hate to break up this little chat, we really should be goin’,” Garrett said. “Bastian’s packed the gear, and Danil said he feels ok to travel, so if yer all well enough to make a move?”

  Marcus nodded. “Thanks, Garrett. And you, too, Bette. You’ve done a hell of a job patching me up.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  They moved out slowly, Julianne turning her head away from the bodies piled up by the side of the trail.

  Garrett said that’ll scare off any other packs that come this way, Bastian sent as they passed it.

  Anything that helps, I guess. She paused, then launched into something she’d been stewing on all morning. Bastian, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have attacked the remnant like I did, not after what happened to Danil.

  You don’t need to apologize to me. You’re my leader, not the other way around. I’m just glad you’re ok. Bastian ducked under a low branch, then glanced back to make sure Julianne did the same.

  Being a leader doesn’t mean doing what you want. It’s a responsibility. It’s my job to make sure you and Danil, and everyone back at the Temple and even the pilgrims are as safe as I can make them. What I did yesterday went against that. If you hadn’t pulled me back, you’d be stuck out here alone with two catatonic mystics to take care of.

  Julianne rubbed her head absentmindedly. It still ached, but it was due to overwork now. The bruise behind her ear was almost gone and only tender to touch.

  But because you did, Danil’s ok. This sending came with a flood of emotion, both tender and grateful.

  Thank you, Bastian, but I think you had more to do with that than I did.

  The boy prickled with embarrassed pride, but didn’t reply. Julianne slipped back into her own thoughts, while quietly keeping tabs on Bette, who rode with Danil, and Marcus, who shifted more and more uncomfortably as the morning progressed.

  Eventually, Julianne pushed her horse up ahead to join him. “If you stop for a little, I can ease the pain for you.”

  “I can’t,” Marcus grunted. The morning warmth didn’t warrant the sweat beading on his head. “If I can’t feel it, I’m more likely to do it more harm.”

  “I can prevent that,” she said. “I can take away the tedious pain, the constant, wearing hurt. I’ll leave the sharp pain, the signal pain alone.”

  “You can do that?” he asked, surprised.

  She winked. “I can do a lot of things to a man's body without him even knowing.”

  Marcus gaped. Then he shook himself and lifted a hand to call a halt. “Do I need to dismount?”

  “No,” Julianne said. “But for deep work, it helps to touch. Give me your hands.”

  He took one of her hands gently, then the other, like lovers in a handfasting ceremony. Julianne quickly banished the errant thought and mumbled a word to help her begin. She touched his pain, followed each tendril and read the messages it took. Some she numbed, others she left.

  “How does that feel?” she asked, still holding his hand.

  “It feels good. Really… ow!” He flexed his body, yelping as his pain sensors admonished him for it.

  “Working as intended, then.” The rough warmth of Marcus’s hand brushed her senses. Out of nowhere, a hot tide of desire washed over her, and she dropped it quickly.

  “Thanks. Ready to go?”r />
  Julianne took a breath to clear her head. “Just give me a minute.” Julianne slipped into a deeper trance with some difficulty. Her usually stable emotions seemed shot, and for some reason, she couldn't shake the sudden need that drowned her when she looked at Marcus.

  Oh, for goodness sake, she snapped at herself. Julianne clenched her muscles then relaxed them and reached out with her mind. She pushed past the discomfort and fatigue, stretching as far as she could. Just as she was about to give up, she felt it. A flicker of consciousness on the outskirts of her range.

  “We need to go that way.” She lifted an arm to point, gripping the saddle to keep steady. She hadn’t entirely recuperated from last night, and working on Marcus had sapped more of her mental energy.

  “Are you ok?” Marcus caught her as she swayed.

  “Yeah, I’m just… starving?” She’d eaten that morning and shouldn’t be this hungry. Shaking, she rummaged in her bags and pulled out a cloth bag. She crammed a handful of jerky in her mouth, blushing in embarrassment.

  “So, what’s that way?” Marcus asked.

  “People.” The word came out garbled around a mouthful of food. Julianne forced it down and tried again. “I can sense people, or at least a person. It can’t be too far, or I wouldn’t be able to. Not in the state I’m in.”

  Marcus cocked an eyebrow. “And what state is that?”

  Still reeling from the sudden bursts of heat and hunger, Julianne clamped down on her mind. He couldn’t use magic to see her thoughts, but right now, she couldn’t trust a damn thing about herself.

  “I’m just tired.” She slowed her horse and moved to one side, waiting until Danil passed before moving in beside him.

  “Hey, Jules,” he said before she spoke.

  “I thought you were too worn out for magic?” she teased.

  “I am. I can sense you from a mile away, but that has nothing to do with magic.” He smiled, turning his face not quite in her direction. His green eyes were pale in the bright daylight.

  “Danil… how are you feeling? Since you woke up, I mean.”

  He shrugged. “It’s taken a toll on me, for sure. A day without food has given me a beast of an appetite, and a temper to match.”

  “You? A temper?” Julianne laughed. Danil was a rascal, with his sharp wit and a taste for gaming, but she’d never seen him in a foul mood before.

  “I know.” His face looked like a whipped puppy. “I snapped at Garrett for trying to help with my breakfast, then ran poor Bastian off just for asking how I felt one too many times. Truth be told, it was only the second time he’d asked.”

  Julianne winced. “I’ve been feeling a bit… unusual, myself.” She didn’t elaborate and when she glanced over at Danil, he’d sunk into his own thoughts.

  Julianne? Bastian caught her attention and again, she shuffled her place in the line.

  “What is it?” she asked. The base of her skull was now throbbing in time to the slow beat of hooves, and the sun was just a little too hot.

  “I wondered how you were feeling.” Bastian spoke carefully, as if unsure how his words would be received.

  “Bastian, it’s ok. Danil is a bit of a bear this morning. I think he’s just tired.”

  “That’s just it, though.” Bastian’s eyes glinted as if he’d found cake. “You see, I’ve been probing his mind since he woke, yours as well, and there’s something there, Master Julianne. A residue or a feeling, I can’t quite describe it but it’s almost exactly like—”

  She cut off his excited torrent of words. “You were probing my mind? Today?”

  “Um. Yes? I’m sorry, I know the rules outside the Temple are different, I didn’t mean to cause offense.” Bastian’s face turned a deep shade of purple as he tried to backtrack his words.

  “No.” Julianne waved away his concerns. “I’m not angry, just annoyed at myself for not noticing.”

  “That’s just it, though!” Bastian said. “Julianne, what I can feel in your minds is the same feeling I had when I was on your coattails earlier. When you went into Danil’s head, while the memory of the beast-woman still had him and when the same thing was trying to draw you in, that’s still there inside you.”

  Panic rose in her chest and she snapped, “Don’t be stupid. You can’t catch something using mental magic. You’re imagining it.” She bared her teeth at him, heart pounding.

  “See?” he crowed. “You’re doing it now! Reacting like your animal urge is taking over.”

  Her hand gripped her walking staff, still tied to the saddle. Her knuckles were white with the effort.

  “Everything ok up there?” Garrett called from behind.

  Julianne looked down at her hand, still on the staff.

  “Bastian, I…”

  She what? Had been about to attack him for sharing a theory? For frightening her with the idea it may have been right?

  Cocking her head to one side, she realized Bastian was inside it, soothing her panic. He flinched when she noticed him, but she simply watched as he worked. The boy had a sharp mind, that was for sure, and seemed to have an affinity for the emotions.

  Within moments, she was able to slip into a contemplative meditation. She didn’t use magic, instead turning his words over in her head, trying to make sense of them. What she’d said was true—magic was simply a projection of thought. You couldn’t catch a disease, or keep a part of someone’s mind with you.

  And yet, she realized there was a precedent for this. Any mystic who’d worked on a person with mental illness—or after severe trauma—knew it could manifest in the days after. It wasn’t an effect of the magic, not directly.

  However, slipping into a memory of someone watching her husband die a sudden, painful death was just as real to the mystic as it was to the patient. Even though the deceased may be a stranger, for the duration of the spell, it was their husband. Even after disconnecting it could feel like the mystic had just lost a loved one.

  “So, you think it’s a stress-based reaction?” Bastian had been reading her thoughts again.

  “Perhaps. But, now that I’m aware of it, I think there may be more to it.”

  Bastian frowned, not understanding. “Like, a kind of transference?”

  “No. Bastian, when you go back to the Temple, do you think things will be different? Will it feel the same, or will it be smaller, plainer now that you’ve seen the world?”

  “Well,” he began, then paused to chew on the question. “I suppose it won’t be the same. I don’t feel as chafed out here, as stifled. I hadn’t realized I felt that way back home, but now that I’ve really been outside… But I don’t understand how that relates to the remnant, though.”

  Julianne worried at her lip, wondering how to explain. She wanted words for this, as they would have to be recorded later, for research purposes. “The remnant are animals, in the most basic sense of the word. Oh, they're intelligent enough. Clearly, they can speak and plan, they just lack… something. Inhibitions, fear, common sense?”

  She fell silent for a moment, thinking. “They don’t have any responsibility. I, on the other hand, have grown up with it. First while running my parents’ house for them, then as a favored student, now as Master. Expectations, every day. Oh, I don’t mind them, but I’ve often wondered what life is like for someone who has nothing to do with their day but keep a house and milk some cows.”

  “And… you got a taste of that?” Bastian said. His eyes were narrowed, as if trying to glean any extra bit of information he could gather.

  “More than a taste.” Julianne smiled softly, remembering the sensation of wind over a mountaintop. “I imagine it’s similar to what a druid would feel, inhabiting the mind of a bird in flight.”

  Then, the memory of the sensations that started all this came to mind and she kicked her horse forwards, shuttering her mind in case the young mystic tried to read it again.

  “Thank you for talking to me, Bastian,” she called over her shoulder.

  Chapter Twenty-
Six

  The tiny cottage looked out of place amongst the tall grasses and broken fence. Whitewashed walls gleamed in the afternoon sun and bright flowers lined the windows, beckoning to the tired travelers like honey to a bee.

  They had pushed hard in the early hours, slowing as the terrain thinned and all signs of the cloistered jungle the remnant called home faded.

  Marcus had tried to keep on, but Bette forced a stop for lunch when he swayed in his sleep. The soldier had a seemingly endless amount of fortitude, though. After some food and a fifteen-minute nap, he climbed astride again and insisted he was fit to go.

  Still, Bette thought, he was only human. Marcus sweated and his normally brown face was white and sickly. How he found the energy to kick his horse into a trot when the tiny farm came into view, she’d never know.

  They approached carefully. All Julianne had been able to tell them is which direction to head. The girl didn’t have much more color than Marcus, and by the way she rubbed her head, a thumping headache, too.

  Bette slid off her horse and handed the reins to Garrett. “I’ll knock,” she said. “So that yer ugly face doesn’t get the door slammed in it. Ye’ll take care of the others?”

  He nodded seriously, and she trusted he understood what she had meant: she would approach the farm, as the less threatening of the two, and he would stay back to protect their charges if anything went wrong.

  The little brass knocker was tarnished but smooth. Bette rapped on the door three times, then reeled back as a barrage of angry barks startled her.

  “Who’s there?” The voice that called out was rasped, but had a strong edge to it.

  “Travelers,” Bette called back, trying to sound friendly. “We seek refuge after days of hard travel through the Madlands.” She didn’t want to admit they had injured people, not yet.

  The door opened a small crack, a glittering chain stretched behind it to stop it opening further. A wrinkled face squinted out, eyes dropping to Bette. “Oh. You’re not with them priests, are you? I won’t have none of that foolery inside my house.” Lower down, a black snout pressed against the opening and growled, teeth bared.