“Thank you, Annie. I don't doubt I'll be needing that by the end of the night.”
“Julianne, you can't really mean to attack them directly?” Marcus nodded at Annie as she waggled the bottle in front of him, and gratefully accepted the glass. “You have no idea how many there are, how they're armed; you don't even know how strong their magic is.”
“You said it yourself, Marcus. I can't walk away from this; I have to see it through.” Julianne sipped from her cup, then closed her eyes as blissful warmth tingled through her body. “I do have one trick up my sleeve, though. I figured out how they can shield so strongly. I can’t do it myself, not yet, but all it takes is to distract one of their circle to break them all.”
“This is crazy, Jules. I thought you meant you'd go for help, not dive into the hornet’s nest! Maybe Amelia can send in a patrol from Arcadia. I know there’s not many she can trust, but she might be able to do this. And what about your mystic friend?” Marcus’s eyes were slightly wide, evidence of his worry in his creased brows.
Julianne shook her head. “Amelia has her own problems to worry about. And anyway, a patrol would take far too long to organize. As for Artemis, we don't even know where he is, or if he could or even would help us.”
“Oh, he'd help alright,” Annie said. “He might be odd, but he's no coward.”
“Regardless,” Julianne cut in. “He isn't here. Unless you know something we don't?” A tendril of hope flared at the chance Artemis might participate in the fight.
Annie shook her head sadly. “If I knew where he was, I'd tell you.”
The tiny spark of hope died. “Well, then. It's just us. Well,” she looked at Marcus, “not you.”
“What?” Marcus’s eyes snapped brightly.
Julianne shrugged. “You're injured. You can't swing a sword, draw a bow, or throw a hammer. I know you have your magitech, but you can’t rely on that alone. It does damage, but the range isn’t there. By the time they got close enough for it to be effective, you'd be fighting for them.”
Marcus sputtered. “I'm your best fighter, even injured!”
“So… you really think you're up to it?” Julianne leaned across the table, brows furrowed.
Marcus nodded eagerly. “I'll have to watch the wound, sure. Don't want to split it open again. But it's a shallow cut, and there's no trace of infection thanks to Annie's salve.”
Annie nodded at that.
“Fine. Annie, I don't want you and Lilly here tomorrow, just in case they trace us back here. I'm so sorry to have to ask you to do this, but is there somewhere safe you can go for a little while?”
Annie snorted. “I know this whole region like my own backyard. There's some caves a little way north; the hunters used to stay there when they were off collecting furs. Now that winter’s broken, it won't be too uncomfortable for the girl, and I'm tough old bones. It'll be fine, dear. You go do your thing and don't you worry about us.”
Julianne breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the old woman and the Druid child wouldn't be caught in the crossfire. “Thank you, Annie.”
Together, the three sketched out a map of the town, marking key locations where the higher-ranking mystics would likely be found. August was rumored to have taken up in the old Lord’s manor on the southern side of the city. Julianne’s preference was to attack there first, to try and take out the head of the serpent.
Marcus pursed his lips, thinking. Her plan was solid. It would avoid fighting in the streets, an act that was likely to have them surrounded in moments. They'd be able to take down the leader and search his apartments for information on the rest of the Dawn, then flee before being discovered. They could make more plans from there.
“No, Marcus.” Julianne interrupted his train of thought, reaching out to grab his arm urgently. “This isn't a reconnaissance mission. We finish this today.”
Her eyes flashed with determination, and he knew it was a fight he wouldn't win. Marcus groaned. “You really don't know what you're in for,” he said. “But, it's your choice. I'm just along for the ride.”
“Go get some sleep,” she said. “We all should. It's past midnight, and we need to leave before dawn.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
A tiny hand shook Julianne awake. She blinked her eyes and squinted into the darkness before reaching out with her mind to the small figure sitting on her bed. She groggily reached out to Lilly's thoughts. Seeing the urgency there, Julianne shot up.
“Marcus!” she yelled. “Bette, Garrett, get up.”
The house exploded into action as lamps were lit and people tumbled out of bed, grabbing weapons and swearing as they looked around for the threat. Marcus shoved past the door, into Julianne's room.
“What is it?” he asked, eyes quickly taking in the dazed rearick, and the mystic still tucked under her blankets next to Lilly.
“Marcus, the New Dawn are on their way. I need you to take Lilly and Annie somewhere safe.”
Anger and frustration boiled under Marcus's skin. “No! We talked about this. You can't send me away, Julianne.”
She touched his face and opened her mind. She let him see her true self, her care for him, and her worry about his safety. Then, she led him into her mind as Master. Here, she thought of pragmatism.
Even with all emotion removed from the equation, she knew Marcus was the best person to lead the civilians to safety, that Bette and Garrett would fight better together than if they were separated, that she needed Danil and Bastian, but also needed to know someone she trusted was looking after the innocent people caught in a war that had nothing to do with them.
Worry stabbed at Marcus’s chest, but he nodded. “Fine. I'll take them somewhere safe, but as soon as I can, I'll return to help.”
“That's all I ask of you,” Julianne said. Her heart brimmed with gratitude, but her soul was crippled with worry for him.
He turned to go, but she caught his hand, jerking him back to her. She pulled him down and stared into his green flecked eyes. “Stay safe, soldier. I mean it.”
Then, she kissed him, long and deep. All the pent-up emotion inside her flowed through it, the pain and the passion and frustration not only of their task, but of being so close to him for so long.
Marcus pulled back, panting for breath and trembling a little.
“Now go,” Julianne instructed. She stepped past him and spoke to Garrett. “I'm fairly certain I know how their shields work. I needed you and Bette to help me disable them. Get dressed, we have less than an hour before they get here.”
“I…” Marcus looked around the room, still dazed.
“Ye heard the Master, ye love-struck fool. Get goin’!” Bette chided. She gave Marcus a gentle push that seemed to shake him out of it. He strode out, calling for Annie.
“Lilly, is Tarchus still flying over them?” The image that passed from the bird to the girl—and then to Julianne—had showed a column of dark-robed people marching down the road in their direction. They were led by a figure whose golden robes almost twinkled in the moonlight. That one had made them both shudder. “Don't tell me. Just think it, and I'll know.”
Julianne had tried reading the bird’s mind through Lilly's mind, but it was like trying to decipher a foreign language. However, as soon as Lilly translated the images, Julianne had a clear picture.
Julianne saw the road she'd walked the day before, but from above. The mystics were on the very outskirts of the farms, marching behind their leader in two lines towards Annie's house, flanked by a column of plainly dressed fighters on either side, armed with swords and cudgels. The road ran to her door; the only thing past it was the Madlands, and even Danil wouldn't bet against that being their destination.
She watched as the bird idly drifted lower and noticed an abnormality in the formation. Three of the group was too close together, instead of evenly spaced like the rest. Lilly, can Tarchus see what's happening at the end of that second row?
Tarchus waited a moment, then directed his laser focus wher
e Julianne had requested. He didn't need to fly closer—his sight was incredibly good. He just had to look right at them. It only took a second for him to pick out the ropes that bound their wrists and ankles.
The top-down view gave little impression of their faces, but when one of the three wiped his face on his sleeve, tilting his head for barely a moment, Julianne immediately recognized his slicked hair and sculpted beard.
Black tooth, Julianne thought, forgetting to shield the thought from Lilly.
“He's as bad as the fat one,” Lilly said. “They're all bad, but those two especially, and her.” An image accompanied her words of a woman with abnormally red hair and lines about her eyes.
“Donna was here?” Julianne asked.
“Yes. They call her the Master’s Voice. We haven’t seen her for a while, though.” Lilly’s face screwed up ferociously. “I hope she’s dead.”
Julianne recognized the tone and odd phrasing as a thought not of Lilly's own, but something repeated. Aloud, she asked, “Who is the leader we saw just now? The one in gold?”
Lilly shrugged. “August, probably. He’s the only one I’ve seen in dark blue. Fatso caught me once before, said August would string me up by my toenails and make me kill all my pets. Said he’d make me like it, too.”
The hard pebble inside Julianne flared, just slightly, imagining what had been said to the young girl. “Don't worry, Lilly. We won't let them take you again.”
Marcus reappeared and hustled the girl out of the room. “Have you got everything? Quick, run downstairs and wait with Annie. I'll be there in a moment.”
Suddenly alone with Marcus, Julianne let her eyes fall. She didn't know what had come over her earlier. Maybe a residual effect of the remnant? No. She knew that wasn't true.
“Marcus, we don't have time for any of this. I just didn't want you to go without…”
“I understand.” He stepped forwards and folded her in his arms, a brief hug that was over all too soon.
“Stay safe,” Julianne whispered. “And keep them safe, too. Someone has to survive this mess… in case I don’t.”
Marcus squeezed her arm, then left without another word.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Julianne stood at Annie's front door, waiting. The visitors were close enough to sense now. She ran her mind over the soldiers, all controlled by mental force. Their shields weren't as strong as the mystics, but for now, they were enough.
Her mental magic caressed the two columns of men, slipping over the tightly shielded space between them. At this distance, she was virtually powerless except for her ability to touch them. Soon, though…
Julianne reached out to her comrades. Danil and Bastian were a short distance away. They would join the fight last, after Julianne dismantled the shields they used and freed the farmers turned soldiers. They would be their second line of defense, turning against their keepers once the bonds of slavery were loosened.
That was the hope, anyway. She was working on a theory and a feeling, something that didn't often lead her wrong but could have devastating consequences tonight.
There's always a first time, she thought to herself. Julianne took the last few moments of quiet to ease into a short meditation. She bathed in the connectedness, reaching out to touch the universe around her.
The old timbers in the house groaned with anticipation, and the leaves outside rustled excitedly. Julianne could almost feel the heartbeat of the world flutter with anxiety.
Then, it happened. A flare of consciousness off in the distance. One of the mystics had slipped in their control of a guard, releasing the shield just long enough for Julianne to slip beneath it.
Quickly, she read the man's recent memories. Tarik had been dragged from his bed, ensorcelled into obeying despite an injury in his shoulder. He and the other men had quickly donned armor and weapons and marched out of the town to await their masters.
They'd been given no rest and no explanation. That didn't matter. Tarik’s only desire was to obey, any semblance of resistance long since stripped by constant cycles of fear and reward.
When Julianne estimated they were only a half-mile down the winding path, she struck. Blasting through Tarik’s mind control link, she replaced it with her own.
Before applying any force, she sent a simple question.
Are you willing?
Tarik twitched his head, dazed.
These monsters, those who call themselves Master. They killed your people. Took you as a slave. Will you stand for that?
She watched as his mind slowly woke.
Who are you? He wondered. Have I gone mad? Did they finally break my mind?
Do you feel broken, or do you feel ready to fight? Julianne asked him. Are you willing to sacrifice yourself for the freedom of others?
When he straightened his shoulders and gripped his spear tighter, she felt it. These bastards took my people. I am willing.
He surrendered his will to her, allowing her full control of his body. The New Dawn guards were nothing but a show. They had all the power they needed to control the population in their minds.
Though a strong man, his only experience fighting had been with obstinate sheep on shearing and dipping days. Julianne, however, had spent months with the Arcadian guards.
She used his body like a weapon, harnessing a strength she personally didn't have. The spear he carried whipped out at the head of the nearest mystic, taking him down in a single blow. The woman next to him screamed, the blood spatter on her face black in the moonlight.
Pain blossomed in Julianne's shoulder as she felt his arm dislocate from the socket at the force of the blow. Ahh, that was the injury. She pushed the sensation away.
A guard stabbed forward with a sword but Julianne pulled Tarik back, and he missed. Holding the spear out between them defensively, Julianne feinted once. The farmer flinched, then lunged, only to take the brunt of Tarik’s head straight into his nose.
Julianne's head rang as she suffered the same sensations as Tarik. She let out a scream as she plunged him into the center of the scrambling mystics, swinging the cudgel left, then right, then jabbing it forwards into someone's belly. A blow struck him from behind, but Julianne forced him back to his feet, dropping the weapon from blood slicked hands.
Tarik reached out for the nearest mystic and wrapped his fingers around her neck. He squeezed, life flowing from his wounds as his consciousness faded.
Thank you, my friend. Julianne watched through his eyes as the woman fell in a heap, and as all went dark, felt the thud of Tarik’s body following. Your sacrifice was noble and brave. Your people will know you as their hero. As his soul dissipated, Julianne pushed a wave of loving calm to send him on his way.
A disconnected part of her mind searched the army as they wailed and yelled. Three were dead—four including Tarik—and the shields of seven mystics were shattered. As Julianne tried to force herself into one of them, she was suddenly shoved back as their defenses snapped shut. Three had re-fortified themselves, but four were wide open, or at least had flimsy shields erected that Julianne would be able to breeze past.
Alec! Desiree, link with me!
Please, no, don't shut me out!
Julianne watched as they scrambled, three of the vulnerable mystics grabbing hands as their eyes regained their white glow. She sat inside the mind of Trini, a narrow-faced woman who sneered as the man who held her hand kicked another mystic who begged to be joined to them.
“Don't be an idiot, Henry. It only works with three.” Trini seethed, sick of having to deal with these idiots. If not for them holding her back, she knew she’d be at Master August’s side by now.
Unwilling to make herself known just yet, Julianne used her magic to feel her way along the woman's mind. Though she couldn't sense the magic another person cast, it was never magic alone. A whispered word, a mental image, a feeling—all that and more could accompany a spell.
What Julianne felt was a reluctant surrender, a stepping back as Trini allo
wed another inside her head as she built her shield. Julianne could tell Trini wasn’t happy with the process. She felt the men she worked with were beneath her, unworthy of touching her superior mind.
Julianne pulled back as far as she could without losing contact, staying as still and quiet as she could.
Trini’s consciousness separated as she entered the minds of two others. The shield strengthened, wavered, and fell.
“Concentrate, you idiots,” Trini snapped.
“It's not us, you dumb cow. It fell apart at your link.”
Julianne's mind raced. If what they were doing only worked with three minds, as they'd told poor old Henry, it was likely her presence that held them back.
She had learned as much as she could without exposing herself, and it was all she needed. Julianne send a tendril of frustration into Trini’s mind, feeding her anger at the men beside her. Fanning it, Julianne nudged Trini towards the small knife she kept in her belt.
Julianne exploded fury inside Trini’s mind, and the New Dawn woman grabbed the weapon. It had been a gift from Trini’s father, more ornament than a real weapon. Still, when Trini thrust it into Henry’s cheek, it did the job.
Julianne increased the pressure on the woman's mind. Trini held the short knife pointed at her own stomach.
No. No, please.
Julianne planted her resolve, pushing against the other woman’s desire to live. Too far for direct control, Julianne dragged up the image of the man she’d just stabbed, flooding Trini with guilt.
She barely responded. Gritting her teeth, Julianne searched the woman’s mind, trying to find her motivation. There. Trini was ambitious, proud, and shallow. She was also fearful. The people she was involved with were harsh masters and dealt out punishments like candy.
Trini fought against the terror that built as images of those punishments flashed through her mind. “No, no… They wouldn’t, not to me.” she murmured. The words were a lie. She was now a weak link, a gaping wound. The only thing they could do to fix that wound was to cauterize it.
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