“Ok,” another Julianne said beside him, this one clean and bright eyed.
“That’s not at all weird,” he gasped as a boot struck him in the back.
“Run, now!” two Juliannes snapped. He bolted for the door, almost tripping over an illusion of himself just ahead. Another was on his heels, flanked by two of Julianne.
Together they plunged through the door, chased by guards, and fled. Each pair went a different way, Marcus taking the left passage with another of himself, before a hand yanked him around a corner.
Julianne grinned, panting, and pressed a finger to her lips. A false Marcus sprinted past, followed by two guards that didn’t see the real him standing against the wall.
“This way,” she whispered, dragging him by the arm to a nearby doorway.
She hustled him through, then down a side passage and up a narrow staircase. “That window leads to a courtyard. If we can get down, then scale the wall, we’re home free.” Her eyes still glowed white, and he guessed she wasn’t just hiding them, but scanning the minds of anyone nearby for a map of the building.
She stepped out onto the window ledge and he followed. “Jules, I feel like a sitting duck up here,” he murmured. “You sure no one will notice us?”
She nodded, face pale. The strain of her magic was showing, and that was a really bad sign.
Marcus quickly scouted the courtyard. “Slide over that way,” he said, gesturing along the narrow ledge towards a large tree. “We can jump to one of the branches.”
“And I suppose I’ll just hide the movement of an entire tree, just like that?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
Still, she moved towards it, one hand feeling along the whitewashed stone for support, the other gripping his tightly. Her skin was cool and dry, he had to give her credit for that. Anyone else—him included—would be sweating up a storm.
“Steady does it,” he said as she approached the nearest outstretched branch. The willow swayed in the breeze, the thick branches looking suddenly frail over the hard ground below. “Find your center. Don’t jump until you’re balanced.”
“Marcus, I’m a mystic. I do nothing but find my center.” She quickly grinned, dropped his hand and threw herself into the tree, letting out a low “Oof!” As she connected with a branch.
She hung for a minute, legs dangling as she clutched the shaking limb, then pulled herself up, kicking at her skirts to find purchase on the bark. Once she was settled, Marcus leaped across, landing in a crouch on a broad branch.
“Smartass,” Julianne said. “Just had to show me up, didn’t you?”
“Hey, I’m not the one casting a half-dozen spells while balancing in a tree.” He reached out to take her hand and help her down a branch. She yanked him back, almost overbalancing him, then put a finger to her lips.
“…get away? Are they all stupid, or just the ones loyal to my father?” Boots stomped beneath them as George the Third stormed through the courtyard. “It doesn’t matter. My men are ready to march. We’ll wipe their shitty little town off the map once and for all. Then, we’ll come back and take care of that bitch-damned circus full of traitors.”
“I’d advise against it, my lord.” Marcus stifled a growl at the sound of August’s slithering voice. “They have quite a number of magicians.”
“Who, the town or the actors?” George snapped.
“Both, my lord.” August allowed a note of condescension creep into his words, but George either didn’t notice, or didn’t care.
“That’s why you’re coming with me. Bring ten men, you can catch up with us on the road. Hell, bring twenty if you think we’ll need them. They can’t be allowed to…”
The voices faded and Marcus didn’t catch August’s reply. It didn’t matter. “We have to go,” he whispered.
Julianne nodded. “We have to warn Madam Seher first.”
He waited for her gesture to proceed, then slithered down the wide trunk onto the ground and darted over to the wall. He gave Julianne a boost up. Once she had caught the lip, he jumped and heaved himself over.
“That looked like an effort,” Julianne sweetly pointed out. “Getting soft, are we?”
He rolled his eyes. “Just tell me when to go,” he said.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Madam Seher listened to their hurried explanation, her expression darkening by the minute.
“If they’re onto us, they know about Adeline. We must get her out. Did you see Lord George at the manor?”
Julianne shook her head. “Not in person, and not in any of the minds I could skim. A couple of maids wondered where he was, and his bed wasn’t slept in last night.”
Seher cursed. “We must go back. That man and his daughter are vital to this city.”
“You’re crazy,” Marcus said. “You need to get your people out while you can. We need to return to ours.”
He turned to go, but Julianne caught his arm. “She’s right. George and Adeline are… they’re not like anyone you’ve seen before.”
He gave her a flat faced stare. “I’ve meet Adeline, remember?”
Julianne shook her head. “Not like that, Marcus. Madam Seher showed me. She and George are kind and just, their citizens adore them. If they fall, the town will be ripe for the picking by anyone, and very few people would step in for the good of the people.”
“You go,” Madam Seher said. “You need to get back to your people. Mine can take care of Adeline and George.”
“Bring them to Tahn when the fighting is over,” Julianne said quickly. “We’ll keep them safe until we can remove Rogan from the city.”
Seher nodded. “Queen’s favor to you.”
It was an old saying, usually reserved for those who held Queen Bethany Anne, also known as Queen Bitch, in high standing. Though the term ‘bitch’ had come to mean something less respectful now, it was once a term of honor to the woman who first brought magic to the world.
“And to you,” Julianne replied.
Clasping hands, the two women said a quick goodbye.
“Do you think they’ll make it to Tahn?” Marcus asked as they hurried away.
“No idea,” Julianne said, her eyes already white again as she pulled him back behind a corner. A moment later, two men strode past.
Julianne took Marcus’s arm. “We are two upper-class citizens out shopping,” she whispered. “Don’t look scared, and don’t look for trouble. I’ll tell you if we need to duck.”
Marcus pasted a smile on his face and nodded happily at the next person they passed. Without making it obvious, he took a quick look at his clothes. Julianne had dressed him in illusionary silks and fine leather boots. She was robed in soft purple linen, embroidered with tiny, white flowers.
“You look like you need to take a shit,” Julianne murmured.
“Don’t all rich people?" he asked.
She laughed, the sound attracting the attention of a soldier. Julianne’s hand tightened reassuringly on Marcus’s arm, so instead of bristling, he stared the man in the eye and mouthed “women!” As they passed. The soldier chuckled, and went about his business.
As they approached the gate, they slowed. “Bit of a crowd there,” Marcus pointed out. “Can you sneak us past?”
Julianne drew them back into a shadow. “I think so, but it’ll take everything I’ve got. I don’t want to exhaust myself just yet.” Ahead, the town entrance was shut, the heavy iron gates screeching open every few minutes to let someone in or out.
A woman carrying an armload of cloth walked down the road towards them. Julianne reached out and caught her arm.
“What’s going on at the gate?" she asked.
“Oh, that’s just Master August. He’s looking for someone, closed the gates right after the soldiers left and won’t let anyone in or out unless he talks to them.” She shrugged. “He let me in. I guess I look all innocent! Little does he know!” She directed a salacious wink at Marcus, who tugged at his collar.
She smiled and wandered off, touchin
g her head briefly as Julianne wiped their conversation from her mind.
“Shit,” she said.
Marcus rubbed her back. “Look, there has to be another way out.”
“You’re right. Seher will know.” Julianne grimaced at the thought of walking all the way back to the theatre tents—every minute spent in the city was a minute they would need to make up trying to beat the army to Tahn. She had to warn her people.
“Seher’s got her own stuff to worry about. I got this one.” Marcus grabbed Julianne’s hand and started running, stumbling to a halt outside Muir’s seediest inn. He pushed open the door, ignoring the ‘closed’ placard stuck to it.
A man sat at one of the few tables not draped with sheets. Fine powder coated the room and Julianne coughed.
“We’re closed for—” the man inside began.
“I’ll give you this if you tell us how to get out of the city without passing through the gates.” Marcus tossed a small bag of coins onto the table.
“What makes you think I’d know that?” the innkeeper asked warily.
“Because you didn’t get hit with violations before the New Dawn moved in. That means you know who to bribe… and I’ll bet my eye teeth you spent money on more than a blind eye to a few roaches.”
“Marcus, don’t worry.” Julianne plucked the purse off the table. “I’ve got what we need.”
“Sorry, bud.” Marcus tipped an imaginary hat before turning to leave. “You snooze, you lose.”
The bewildered innkeeper just sighed. “This town is going to hell,” he muttered before going back to his paperwork.
Julianne directed Marcus to a nearby backstreet. “Behind that house,” she said. “Look for a big drain.”
It was under a stack of heavy-looking boxes that Julianne pushed aside with no effort.
“Nice cover,” Marcus commented. “I wouldn’t have looked under there back in my days as a city guard.”
“Good thing no one from Muir did, either.” Julianne waited for Marcus to lift the heavy iron cover on the drain, then jumped down.
“Do I want to know what I’m stepping in down here?” Marcus asked.
“Just water. This part of the city is prone to flooding, so there’s a few of these drains about, at least according to the innkeeper’s memories. Most are soldered shut, but some enterprising young chap left this one open in exchange for a hefty bribe a few years ago.”
“Good.” His boot squelched in something. “I still think there’s more than just water down here, though.”
“Don’t think about it,” Julianne suggested.
She held onto the barest trace of her magic, just enough to know if they had caught anyone's attention. Exhaustion gnawed at her bones, but she kept going, one muddy foot after the other.
She stumbled, once, and sagged against Marcus for a brief moment when he caught her. Then, slipping into a light trance, she asked him to lead. “Just hold my hand and guide me,” she told him.
Her eyes began to droop as she threw herself into a meditation. Her magic reached out, and the world around her reached in, the two connected in a glorious feeling of serenity.
Energy leaked back into her body, slowly reversing the strain of her earlier magic use. Her breath came in a steady rhythm, matching her steps. Absorbed by the gentle splashes that filled her ears and the musty, heady scent of old water, she didn’t notice when Marcus stopped.
“Woah, steady on,” he said when she collided with him. “Looks like we’re—oh, for fuck’s sake.”
He pounded his hand on the rusted old padlock holding the grate closed. Green grass and sunshine lay within arms’ reach, but he pulled back. “Back to the bloody start.”
“Not so fast, cranky.” Julianne took the padlock and yanked the mechanism. The bolt slid out, and she twisted it open.
“How’d you do that?” Marcus asked. He took the lock from her and examined it. “The latch was filed. Gee, thanks for telling me so I could avoid looking like an idiot.”
“Sorry,” Julianne shrugged. “I didn't want to ruin that reputation of yours.”
“Gee, thanks.” He shoved at the bars and pushed open the final barrier between them and freedom from the city of Muir. “You think the horses will still be at the inn when we come back?”
“If we ever do, they’ll have been sold off a long time ago.” Julianne blinked in the sunlight and carefully waded through the knee-deep stream that lapped at the tunnel. “We’ll just have to make as much speed as we can, with as little rest as possible.”
“What are we waiting for, then?” Marcus asked. With a bounce like he had just stepped out of bed, he loped up the small riverbank and into the woods beyond.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Danil was deep in conversation with Tessa when he saw, through the eyes of a man behind him, Annie’s head pop into the schoolroom. His heart sped up—she never ventured this far without a good reason.
“Annie!" he called, hurrying over to her. “Is everything ok?”
“Boy, something’s brewing.” She hesitated, pursing her wrinkled lips in thought. Then, she spat out a huff. “Just read my damned mind. It’ll be quicker.”
Danil took a slow breath. Then, he dipped into Annie’s head, something Julianne had expressly forbidden to ensure their host’s privacy.
He felt the stillness in the air, the quiet lack of birdsong. He felt the nervous hum of the horses in his bones. He saw Annie walk into town, tasting the air, passing Lilly on the street. The girl was frowning, her attention on something distant. Their eyes met, and Annie acknowledged the girl’s unspoken wisdom.
Something is coming.
It was more feeling than thought, a knowledge that something in this village, this place where she knew every breath and every sigh, was wrong.
Danil’s muscles tightened and his stomach clenched. Annie didn’t have much magic. She couldn’t see the future or read the wind. She had something better than a connection to the etheric: good, old fashioned wisdom and intuition.
Years of living in a place that had etched itself into her bones made her hyper-aware of the slightest changes. That she was worried could only mean one thing.
“They’re coming,” he whispered.
Annie’s shoulders slumped in relief. She had worried he wouldn’t believe her, would write off her concerns as senile worry. You were right, she thought, picturing Julianne. You have good people.
“That she does,” Danil grinned. “Though, they’re about to become very busy people.”
A smile quirked Annie’s lips. “You just tell me what needs doing. If nothing else, I can still lift a shovel.”
Chuckling at her eagerness, Danil waved her down. “No, leave the fighting to us. We need you to take the children, if you can?”
She nodded, straightening her shoulders as she disappeared out the front door, her blustering yell loud enough for them to hear inside. “Peterson! I see you there. Go holler up Marta and Janie’s lasses, and tell them to help you round up the smaller ones. I’ll go fetch young Conrad and his sister, and their neighbors. Meet me back here, and no mucking about, you hear?”
“Tessa,” Danil turned back to the woman he had been talking to, his demeanor calm even as his breath quickened with worry. “Could you find Bastian for me? Tell him to meet me at Garrett’s lookout. Oh, and tell him to bring Artemis.”
“You don’t want me to fetch the old man myself?" she asked, picking up her things.
Danil grabbed a sheet of parchment as it slid of the table. “If you think he’ll come. Bastian’s the only one who seems to be able to get him to do anything.”
“Oh, I think I know what’ll make old Artemis listen.” She grinned, shoved her things in her bag, and pulled the drawstring. A shade of worry touched her eyes. “Danil, they’re coming, aren’t they?”
“I don’t know, but either way, we’ll be ready.”
He watched her go, heart tearing as he wondered if he had told her the truth. Were they ready? Well, he thought
, we’re about to find out.
Confident that Tessa would do as he asked, Danil grabbed his cane and set off for the town gates, where Bette would be training. He didn’t use the thin stick—at this time of day, the town was buzzing with people dashing between lessons with mystics and soldiers, tending to their houses and businesses and helping Francis build the wall.
“Bette!" he called when he spotted her. She turned from the man she was helping, passing him back the short spear and stomping over to Danil. He skimmed her mind, reading thoughts that mirrored her quickly changing expression.
What’s this bastard want now, aye? Always fapping about—wait. No, he looks worried. Something’s wrong. Ach, it’s that bastard army I bet.
“What is it?" she snapped.
“That bastard army.” She gave him a withering glare, but it didn’t hide her sudden anxiety. “At least, I think so. Annie said… well, she had a ‘feeling’.”
“Aye, that’s as clear as an arrow in the face for me. She knows what she’s on about.” Bette turned to look at the neat rows of soldiers, lined up and ready to spar. “Ye told Garrett yet?" she asked out of the side of her mouth.
Danil shook his head. “Just found out myself. I’ll go there next.”
“Weapons DOWN!" she yelled, the sudden, loud cry making Danil jump.
They poked up in surprise, but didn’t hesitate to carefully place their spears on the ground in front of them and stand to attention.
“All of ye, report to Garrett and tell him I sent ye for extra duty. If even one of ye doesn’t make it ta that wall, I’ll take ye over me knee and paddle yer ass.”
“Aye, Captain!” They saluted, one hand to their head and one to their chest, then marched off at a quick trot.
“Take yer bloody weapons ye dipshits!" she screamed. The line disintegrated as they dashed back to grab their spears, then run off to the wall.
“Bastard fuck me up the ass. They do good under orders, but they’re dumb as dog shit.” Bette walked forward to grab her own weapons.
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