Julianne’s giggles softened into a sigh. She leaned against him. “I’m just lucky enough to have friends who remind me what life is really about.”
“What’s that?" he asked.
“Fun. Everyone deserves to have fun and to laugh. Even the poor and the downtrodden. That’s why I fight for them, Marcus. Because they deserve to laugh, too.”
“These bloody Dawners don’t agree,” Marcus reminded her.
“And that’s why I’ll wipe them from the face of the planet.” Though her words were harsh, she spoke softly, snuggling into him. The knock to the head and the long night had caught up with her. Minutes later, she was asleep against him.
Chapter Thirty-Two
By the next morning, Danil’s nerves had begun to set in. It had been too long, he was certain Julianne would have sent a message by now. He loaded some bread with fried onions and dumped it on his plate, then poured some water.
“Garrett, what’s the chance of putting a few scouts on the outer perimeters? If that army comes knocking, I want as much notice as possible.”
The rearick looked up, pulled from his deep thoughts. At least, Danil thought he had been thinking. He might have just been scowling for fun. Never can tell with a rearick, he admitted.
“Easily done, Danil,” Garrett said. “There were a couple of guard trainees that dinna quite make the cut. Brave enough, and quick enough, but not quite smart enough to figure out which end of the spear had the point, if ye know what I mean.” Garrett stroked his beard, thinking.
“Don’t send fools. We want them to send back messages, not get killed.” Danil shoved another bite of ham steak in his mouth and chewed it quickly. “And I want extra men on those walls. It won’t take long for those bastards to breach them if we aren’t protecting them.”
“Aye, I sorted that last night. Bette suggested we move training ta the front gates. Means if something happens, our main forces will all be there together.”
Danil nodded appreciatively. “Good idea. Francis back in training yet?”
“Nah, he’s obsessed with these bloody defenses. The man treats Juliane’s word like an instruction from the Queen Bitch herself.” Garrett eyed the last hunk of bread in the middle of the table.
Danil nodded towards it. “You can have that, I gotta run. And don’t talk shit about Francis. You know if Julianne said jump, you’d be on the roof in a hot second.”
Garrett laughed. “Aye, it wasn’t an insult. Francis is doing a damn good job on that wall. I can’t believe how fast the lad’s done it!”
“He had help,” Danil reminded him.
“Aye.” Garrett fell silent again and Danil couldn’t help himself.
“You’re thinking so hard you’re at risk of an injury, rearick. What is it?” Danil swallowed and stood, waiting impatiently.
Garrett ignored him.
“Fine, you hairy little prick. Go fry your brain while I slave away in the classroom.”
“Go fuck yerself,” Garrett responded good-naturedly. “When yer done, can ye send young Bastian down ta have a natter?”
“Will do.” Danil grabbed his hat and his long walking cane. He took it everywhere now. The villagers and his friends were all so busy, he was often caught walking about town on his own with no one nearby to mind-read to see where he was going.
“Don’t walk into any walls, ye hear?” Garrett called out as the door swung shut behind Danil.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “It was only that one time.”
The walk to town was a slow one, and the sun didn’t quite manage to warm him before he got there. He threw open the classroom door and gave a dramatic shiver. “Brr! It’s colder than a witch’s tit out there.” Bastian, Rhea, and Lilly all looked up
“Forget your coat?” Bastian asked mildly. “Sorry, Lilly. Go on.”
Danil shrugged an apology to the young girl and gestured for her to continue whatever she had been doing when he barreled in.
“So, if they start getting cranky at you, just think of the nest and let the magic go, or they’ll come and peck your eyes out.” Lilly’s own eyes glowed green with a mischievous sparkle as she said this and a moment later, Rhea almost fell off her seat when a raven tapped briskly on the back window.
“Lilly,” Bastian said sternly.
She had the grace to look at least a little ashamed. “Sorry, Bastian. Sorry, Rhea.”
“It’s ok, Lilly,” Rhea said when she had regained her composure. “Thank you for taking the time to teach me.”
“Are we finished?” Lilly asked, looking at Bastian enquiringly.
“Next batch of eager students will be here shortly,” Danil confirmed.
“You may go now, Lilly. And thank you!” Bastian called after her as she darted out the door. He shook his head in wonder. “The way she runs out like that, you’d think she didn’t want to be here.”
“Are you even sure she does?” Rhea asked.
Bastian smiled gently. “Positive. She enjoys showing off her skills, and she really does want you to learn, Rhea. She just isn’t used to this kind of structure.”
“She’s also a kid and thoroughly enjoying having one over on the grown-ups,” Danil added. “She might be a little odd, but she’s still a pretty typical nine-year-old in a lot of ways.”
“And now I’m odd, just like her,” Rhea said with a frown. She caught Danil’s disapproving look.
“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that. Lilly is delightful, and everyone in town loves her. It’s different though, you know? She’s a child, she’s supposed to be vague and flighty, so having magic doesn’t seem like a big deal.”
“And that’s precisely why magic is so bloody hard to come by in this region!” Danil griped. “It’s an esteemed profession, or it should be. People should feel encouraged to embrace their gifts, not shunned for it.”
Irritably, he shuffled Bastian’s papers off the tiny desk and shoved them in the drawer while pulling out his own. He set them down with a thump before continuing his tirade.
“Do you really think the New Dawn would have had such an easy time of it if this town was full of fire-throwers and mystics? Or if you’d all learned to shield as children, or had an army of wild animals fighting on your side?”
He slammed his hand down on a table in frustration, then looked up to see Rhea’s startled face. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I just wish we’d sent people here earlier. To teach you and to start changing some of the attitudes that exist in small towns like this. Maybe then you’d have it a bit easier.”
It was Danil’s turn to feel startled as Rhea slid her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you,” she said.
“What for?" he asked. Before he had time to find out, she was gone.
“Women,” Danil muttered as Bastian stood.
“Nice speech. Does that mean you’re staying when all this is over?” Bastian had shared his grand idea with Danil already—a magic school, one for all talents unlike the segregated teaching centers back in Arcadia. He wanted to create a place where children and adults could come and explore the possibilities magic offered, and lean to accept and rejoice in their gifts.
“Perhaps.” Daniel’s roving mind picked up two men approaching. “Hey, my students are here. Garrett wanted to talk to you, though.”
“What about?” Bastian asked hesitantly.
“Not a clue.”
“Still holding fast to that promise not to read his mind?” Bastian asked. “If he wants to ask me for relationship advice, I’m running for the hills.”
Danil laughed. “I hope it is. I don’t want to be the only person knee-deep in rearick love.”
Rolling his eyes, Bastian grabbed his robe. “I’ll be back after lunch. Try not to set anymore hearts on fire, aye?”
Chapter Thirty-Three
August finally slipped the narrow peephole in the cell door open. Both prisoners shot to their feet, looking far too energetic after two days in a dungeon with only the worst slops to eat.
He had listened to them complain about the food, almost caught himself laughing at their description of it smelling like ‘moldy goat dick’, then banter with each other about how one would know what that smelled like.
Now, August pressed against their shields, letting a small smile touch his lips as both of them scrambled to reinforce their mental defenses. His own shield was impenetrable, reinforced by looping his magic through two other magicians.
He let the mystic girl batter his own shield for a moment, then opened the cell, gesturing for two of his bodyguards to enter first. They, too, were cordoned off from any attacks, protected by another trio of mind-linked magicians.
The entire party was safe from this girl, despite the overinflated rumors of her strength.
August stepped over to the boy and chuckled at his defiant growl. “You think you can defend against me?" he asked.
Slamming into the soldier’s shield, August was surprised at the resistance he faced. Distracted by the effort, he didn’t notice the girl move closer. In a flash, her fist whipped out.
August jumped back and his guards grabbed her, but not before the boy crumpled to the floor. The foolish girl had just knocked out her companion. “Come now, I’d think the leader of that so-called Temple would realize a little knock to the head won’t stop me?”
“Oh? Try getting in his head,” she said with a smirk. Her eyes were bright white, showing she was using some kind of magic other than a simple shield.
Cautiously, August did. Instead of a solid shield, he waded into a murky sludge that coated the young soldier’s mind. He recognized it immediately. It was a spell that pulled the victim into a coma, usually used for surgeries or to ease the suffering of a painful death. He wouldn’t be using the boy’s mind now, not as long as she stayed connected to him.
Unworried, August shrugged. As long as her attention was there, she wouldn’t be using her magic for anything else. “A soldier will stay with him. Your magic won’t protect him from a slit throat. However, if you co-operate, neither of you will be harmed.”
Julianne nodded with all the composure August expected from someone in her position. He walked off, leaving his soldiers to drag her behind him.
When he pushed open the doors to the formal chambers, he did so with a grin. His dear Master, Rogan, would be so proud of his work. August had sent the men to capture Marcus and Julianne, and had been the one to find them and bring them here.
These thorns in his master’s side would now be pawns in his game. “Master, I bring you a gift!” The joy that filled August when he saw Rogan smiled was unequalled. “This is the girl that Donna failed to bring to you.”
“You think she’d be here if not for me?” the red-haired witch spat.
August sneered at her. “I think that if I’d gone to the Heights, Tahn would still be ours.”
“And who was in control of Tahn when it was lost?" she asked sweetly.
“SHUT UP! Your squalling bores me.” Rogan lounged in the oversized, wooden chair, one leg hanging over the arm. He ran his eyes over Julianne appraisingly. “Girl, do you know who I am?”
Julianne nodded calmly. “You’re the ass maggot who lost Tahn.”
Rogan sat up straighter, his ice-blue eyes flashing. He didn’t slip into a trance, though. Instead he laughed. “Finally, someone who has a backbone.”
“What, sick of your fawning little minions and all the other people you have to mind-fuck so they’d like you?" she asked.
August took a step towards her, hand already clenched in a fist meant for her pretty little face. Rogan raised his hand, and all desire to punch the woman vanished. The thought that August may have displeased his master twisted his gut and made him want to cry.
“Why didn’t you accept my invitation?” Rogan asked, his eyes piercing Julianne.
“Because I’m not a power-hungry psychopath,” She retorted. “Why did you invite me? Couldn’t you find anyone who’d play with you willingly?”
Rogan laughed again, slapping his knee. “I like this girl!” He sobered, expression dropping to a blank canvass as his eyes faded to white. The connection between August and Rogan meant the slave could sense his master’s unstable emotions and feel the magic he used.
August breathed deep as Rogan pressed against Julianne’s shields, looking for a chink. Though the girl still had her soldier boyfriend bound in a coma—he had left a trio of mental magicians to ensure the guard that left with him remained safe—she managed to hold up a good front.
“Really, though. Why would you pass up the chance to rule the world? Didn’t you believe I could do it?”
Julianne’s face hardened. “What I didn’t believe is that anyone could be such an arrogant dick. Much less a mystic. You literally have the power to walk in people’s shoes, to feel their emotions and experience their pain. How can you be so ignorant?”
Rogan held up a hand to examine his fingernails. One was trimmed crooked and August felt Rogan’s irritation prick at him through their bond. Picking at the offending nail, Rogan sighed.
“Truth be told, I was never that good at the whole mind-reading thing. Compulsion? Sure. It was the only way I could get my father to feed me as a child.” His eyes flicked up at Julianne, still white.
“So, you used your pathetic skill to cover up your failings.” Julianne's face was flat, and anger fanned in August’s chest.
How dare she speak to the master like that? He readied himself to attack her. Surely, Rogan wouldn’t stand for her insolence.
“You have no sympathy for a neglected child? I thought people like you were all about the injured and the weak.” Rogan pushed harder against Julianne’s shield.
“I believe anyone should have the freedom to make mistakes, as long as those mistakes don’t affect the freedom of others. You hurt people, Rogan. You used them and spat them out. Others, you killed.”
“You’re talking about your mystics? Ah. Yes, that was unfortunate. Also, against my orders.” His eyes cleared a moment as he looked around. “Donna? Come here.”
Donna almost tripped over herself as she raced over to the master. She knelt, breath coming in quick gasps.
“Master? You said I was forgiven for that. Please don’t be mad.” She clasped her hands together, trembling at his feet.
“You have displeased my guest, and that displeases me.” He leaned closer, gabbing Donna’s face and tipping it up so she looked at him. “You displease me.”
Donna’s chest heaved as she sobbed, clawing at Rogan’s robes and begging him to forgive her.
“Should I kill her?” Rogan looked to Julianne. “Or would you like me to torture her a little first?”
“Please, Master, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please don’t send me away.” Snot streamed down her face unchecked.
Julianne turned her head away from the pitiful sight. “You’re a sick bastard. You’re going down.”
She lunged forward and Rogan jumped up, embracing his magic again. A guard grabbed for Julianne and missed. She darted forwards, but was intercepted by another soldier.
August threw himself at Julianne barely a moment after Donna knocked into her. All three tumbled to the floor as August clawed at the mystic’s face. Seeing a clump of hair, he grabbed at it, coming away empty handed.
“What the…” He scrambled back, eyes darting from side to side. “It’s a trick.” He ran to Rogan, who stood watching in the middle of the room. “It’s a trick!”
Julianne—a second Julianne—appeared in the doorway to the council chamber. Then, another. This one slipped inside and locked it behind her, then pulled out a slender dagger.
“Illusions!” August screamed. He lunged for the one with the weapon, and it vanished.
Rogan felt a spike of fear that shot August through the gut. He dove for his master. “Get down!” They tumbled to the floor, but Rogan rolled away.
“Shut up, fool,” he snapped, eyes white.
Pounding on the door, accompanied by yelling, signa
led the guard had arrived. Rogan had drawn them here with his magic and August cursed for not thinking of that himself.
With a shaking, creaking crack, the door burst open and the chamber filled. Soldiers ran forwards, armed with steel and teeth bared in a magic-induced rage.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Marcus looked down, glad to see he was back in his own clothes. The illusion Julianne had put on him back in the prison cell, swapping their appearances so she could take control of his mind, had worn off.
He couldn’t believe they had pulled it off. Once August led Marcus out of the room, he had been sure the gig would be up. Julianne was a true Master, though—she had held onto the illusions, convincing August that he was her, and the cell guard that she was an unconscious Marcus.
That left Julianne free to work on the guard and the mystics downstairs, while Rogan watched Marcus pretend to cast magic. Marcus’s shields had kept Rogan out of his head, and he had been none the wiser… that is, until all hell broke loose.
Now, Rogan and August had vanished, and they were facing off with a dozen guards.
Marcus slammed his fist onto one man’s face, then pivoted to kick another in the kneecap.
“Jules, we gotta run!”
“Not until we take down Rogan,” she snapped back, eyes white as her—well, one of the illusions of her—rolled between two guards and sprinted for the door. That Julianne vanished as another twirled in front of him, stabbing at a guard with a rusted short sword.
The guard dodged, stumbling back into another Julianne who stabbed him in the neck with a knife. Blood spurted from the wound and Marcus looked at her in relief.
“Phew. I was starting to wonder which one is you.”
“Did you see which way he went?”
Marcus shook his head. “He vanished, the thin air sort of vanish.”
“Shit.” She kicked at a guard, then buckled as another jumped on top of her. Marcus started as she dissolved into nothing.
“Take your eyes off that girl for one second…” he muttered. Then, louder, “We have to retreat.”
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