14
Bastian watched Bette take over the first aid duties, binding Gus’s shoulder with a bandage from her pack. Danil led Garrett away, quietly explaining what had happened. No one went out of sight, and the mystics kept shooting quick glances at their surroundings, looking out for more trouble.
Dropping into a light trance to keep watch for anyone approaching, Bastian wandered over to Julianne. She’d moved to sit by the sleeping Barton. A dark bruise was forming on her face, and she reached up, wincing as her fingers probed it.
As soon as she had been attacked, Bastian had touched her mind, a technique drummed into students at the Temple. At any sign of crisis, make contact with anyone you can, they said. He’d seen her reaction, the way she’d taken all the things that should have ruined her focus and instead turned them into fuel for her concentration.
He’d watched in awe as she shattered whatever trick had been used to cloud Barton’s mind, and the precision she’d used to avoid damaging his true self. It was never a sure thing, but Bastian would lay money on Barton waking up in minutes, alive and well. As if to prove his point, the rearick twitched, then mumbled something.
“Will he be alright?” Bette called from Gus’s side.
“I think so. He’ll have a headache for a few days like he went on a three-day bender, and his memory of today might be a bit spotty. He’ll get off lighter than me,” she said wryly. Julianne took Bette’s hand and looked in her eyes. “Someone got into their heads, made them think we were roving thieves. Bette, this is important: your friends thought we were someone else. They didn’t know who we were, or remember we’d just spoken.”
“I still don’t know what in the hell happened. Ye saying one of yer mystic people bamboozled me head?” Gus asked.
Julianne nodded. “You attacked Bette. Barton tried to kill me. I knocked him out mentally, but he’ll be ok.”
“Aye,” Bette said. “I’m sorry for knockin’ ye about, Gus. And I know Garrett’s sorry for stabbin’ ye in the shoulder. Silly bastard thought he was helpin’.”
“I dinna mean it. Really. For a minute, I was sure ye were bandits, but that makes no sense, does it?” Gus whipped his head around as Bette tried to hold him still.
Bastian, still riding inside Julianne’s head, felt the tendril of soothing calm she sent his way.
It must have cost her. Sending emotion like that wasn’t an easy thing to do, and Julianne had just expended a huge amount of energy to free Barton from the illusions forced into his head. A distance in Julianne’s eyes betrayed her strain and Bastian realized with a shock that her shields were entirely down.
I’ve got little left, she admitted, finally noticing him in her head. Do you mind sticking around? I don’t think I could fight off a direct attack right now.
Bastian’s heart skipped a beat.
The Master of all his people had just invited him into her unshielded mind, asked him to protect it. It was an honor and responsibility he’d never expected to have, and certainly one he didn’t feel confident he could live up to if something did happen.
And yet, her confidence in him was absolute. He could see that. Her thoughts fed off his, and he was unable to ignore the tired musings that flashed through her mind. She’d seen his curiosity about the New Dawn and guessed at his plans to seek them out.
Embarrassed, he tried to turn his mind away from the subject, but Julianne was still on it. She felt in her heart that she was right to be wary of them, but wanted to give Bastian the chance to make up his own mind. And, yes, she wanted to keep him close enough that she’d be there if he got into any trouble.
That confused him. As a student, going through the initiate and intermediary stages of his training, he’d had very little to do with Julianne in a personal sense. She was just too busy, and then had disappeared to Arcadia for months. Why would she care?
Her thoughts caught his and immediately, she answered. I care about all of you, Bastian.
The quick flood of memories bypassed him too quick to make out details, but he knew that Julianne thought of every single one of the mystic students as her own, to protect, teach and provide for as a mother would for her children.
He tore his eyes away, distancing himself just enough to pull out of her memories and thoughts while still keeping a watchful eye on her safety. His determination to seek out this strange clan of mystics was beginning to feel foolhardy and disloyal. He wasn’t quite ready to give it up yet, though.
He'd tried to learn as much as he could about the events in Arcadia. Nothing he'd heard answered his real questions, though. If the people in power could be so easily corrupted, what hope did the world have? For a fleeting moment, Donna had seemed to present an answer.
Danil and Garrett returned. Garrett led a horse over to Gus. Scuffing his feet in the dirt, he apologized over Gus’s protestations that he really didn’t need to. As the two rearick started an argument over who was sorrier, Danil wandered over to Julianne and Bastian.
Danil sat with a thump next to Julianne. “You look like you’ve been hit by a rampaging donkey,” he said.
“Always the compliments,” she replied. Her mouth quirked up in a one-sided smile.
“We need to get that seen to,” he said, tentatively touching the bruise on her face.
“No, we don’t. I’m not stubborn enough to risk my health, Danil, but there’s no concussion and the bones are all intact.”
“Oh, we’ve picked up a whole new kind of magic, have we? Seeing your own bones?” One eyebrow lifted, the effect made comical by his misdirected gaze.
“Shut up, you. I promise, if it needs to be seen when we get to Arcadia, I’ll do something about it then.”
“It may not be that simple.” Danil’s voice dropped a little as he glanced over at the two rearick. “What are we going to do about these two?” He nodded at Gus. “Could turn into a shitstorm if they blame us.”
“Why would they?” Bastian asked, startled. “Gus knows what happened. Why would he lie about it?”
Julianne’s face was serious. “Bastian, mystics have always been one group. We’re split up and we wander around, but we’ve never had anyone splinter off like this. When two wounded rearick go back to Craigston and tell them mystics were at fault… well, it could get difficult, that’s all.”
Bastian chewed his lip. “That doesn’t seem fair,” he said.
“Danil, can you give Barton a nudge? He’s almost awake.”
Danil’s eyes clouded for a moment. Then, mumbling loudly, Barton woke. He rolled to his hands and knees, then sat back. Muzzily looking at the somber faces around him, Barton rubbed a hand over his face, then spat.
“All right, what ‘appened? Last I recall, I was on me horse and you had a pretty face.” He gestured to the now vicious bruise on Julianne’s cheek.
Silence greeted his question. Then, Garrett came to stand over Barton. “Ye almost killed Julianne.”
“Bullshit,” Barton staggered to his feet, but stumbled sideways, almost tripping over. He caught sight of Gus, who’d fallen into a light sleep. At the sight of the blood, he reeled. “Gus? What’ wrong wi’ Gus?”
“Barton, he’s fine. Please, sit down so we can explain.” Julianne’s words had no magic behind them, but her status as the Master still had weight. Barton plonked himself back down, eyes darting to the limp form of his friend.
“Ye sure he’s not dead?”
“Shh,” Bette hissed. “Would you lot keep it down? I just got him to stop bloody wriggling.” Then, she realized who she was talking to. “Oh, err… good to see you alive, Barton. But shut the hell up!”
“We were attacked by a band of rogue mystics,” Julianne explained after Barton was satisfied Gus was safe. “They fooled you into thinking we were brigands, so you tried to fight us. There was… an accident.”
“Brigands. Aye, I recall. They took me gold and all our gems. It was after we passed ye… But… we never did, did we?” Barton shook his head as if trying to dislodge an in
sect from his hair. “Gus?”
“He tried to kill Bette. I stabbed him with me sword. Got his shoulder pretty bad.” Garrett stared at the ground, unwilling to meet his kinsman’s eyes.
“Fuck it to hell,” Barton said, then looked at Julianne. “Sorry, lass.”
She shrugged. “You’re right. Fuck it all the damn way to hell. This is a shitty situation.”
Barton ‘s eyes widened, then he let out a loud laugh. Bette chucked a pebble at him, barely missing his head. “You mystics aren’t half as stuffy as ye pretend to be, are ye?”
“You should see her when she’s in a bad mood,” Danil said. “The things she comes out with would make a dead sailor turn in his grave.”
Barton snorted, then dropped back into seriousness. “The bloody powers that be up at Craigston will have a blue fit. They’ve lost a lot of their reliance on the mystics—no offense, love—and I don’t know how they’ll take this.”
“That depends on what they hear,” Julianne said quietly.
Barton shot his head up, then leaned closer for a look at the purple swelling below her eye. “Ah, the Bitch take my ever-living soul. There’s a mark right in the middle of that mess, a little star. That’s me ring.” He flexed his fingers, showing off the trinket he wore on one finger.
Julianne probed the indentation. She could feel the little jagged dent in her face. “Don’t blame yourself, friend.”
“Can’t say I remember any of it, but seems you’re tellin’ the truth, lass. Far as I can tell, we surely were set upon by a group of miscreants, and yerself and yer friends here offered aid where ye could. That’s the tale I’ll be tellin’ on my return and blowed if anyone doubts it, for it’s the truth.”
“Thank you, Barton.” Julianne’s shoulders dropped and some of the tension went out of her face. “Do you think Gus will be willing to back that up?”
“Aye, if ye stop yer jabbering long enough for me head to stop thumping,” Gus grumbled. Bette lifted her arms in exasperation as he tried to sit up again. This time she didn’t bother trying to stop him.
“It’s settled, then,” Barton said. “We want no quarrel with ye, lass. Be appreciated if you catch the fuckers that caused this shitstorm, though.”
“We will,” Julianne said. Her eyes glittered with anger. “And we will make them pay.”
Bastian wondered how things had become so twisted. Why should the rearick have to lie on their behalf? They were mystics, they should be trusted above all. They’d done nothing wrong, and if word got out that they’d tried to cover this up, it would be a heavy blow to their reputation as a people.
Easy, Danil sent and Bastian pulled his thoughts in immediately.
Aloud, Danil asked, “Is there anything we can do to help you on your way? We’d offer to come back, but under the circumstances, it might be safer if you weren’t around us for now.”
“Garrett can help me onto me horse,” Gus said. “Seeing as he near took me arm off and all. Oh, pipe down, lad. If what yer saying is true, I owe ye for not taking me head when it came down to it.”
“You lot be on your way,” Barton said. “Won’t take us long to get back. If Gus starts leaking again, I’ll just send one of the horses back alone. That’ll bring a rescue crew down looking.”
“I can’t thank you enough for offering to keep this quiet,” Julianne said. “Whoever caused this tragedy was after us. After me, most likely. You were just caught in the crossfire.” She reached a hand out and placed it on the Barton’s knee. “Please, accept our deepest apologies.”
Garrett helped Gus on his horse, then slapped the nags rump to send her on her way. The group stood watching the two-horse procession leave until they’d rounded a bend and slipped out of sight.
“We shouldn’t have to run like criminals,” Bastian blurted out when they’d gone.
Garrett shot him a filthy look and pulled himself up onto his horse. “Easy to say when the blood’s not on yer own hands, mystic.” He kicked his heels and trotted off to wait further down the road.
Bastian looked to Julianne for support.
“The world isn’t that simple, Bastian.” She, too, mounted her horse. “We could stay and explain, but that could take days. There might be some who doubt our story, and that could start ill feeling to fester between our people. Others will want to ride out and seek revenge, which could put our own mission at risk.”
“Our mission?” Bastian asked.
Whatever Julianne had planned, she’d managed to keep it from her thoughts well enough to hide it from him. He stuck his foot in a stirrup and pulled himself up, moving his horse off at a gentle walk beside Julianne.
“I planned this pilgrimage long before the New Dawn showed up. However, the man I’m in search of may have more than just the key to unlocking more of my own magic. He was last seen across the Madlands, where the New Dawn group we saw came from. I need to get out there, Bastian. I need to see what these people are doing, and how their leader got such a tight hold over Donna’s mind, seemingly from so far away.”
“What?” Bastian started. “Donna wasn’t mind controlled. I mean, she had a strong shield, but she acted too normal and calm to have someone in her head.”
“What I saw in the brief moments I penetrated her shield was anything but calm, and it definitely wasn’t normal. I don’t understand it, but even so, I can see its danger.” Julianne sighed. “Look, I know you think their argument is good. She was persuasive, I get that. What she left out is that there is good and bad in all people. When you have a skill like ours, it’s easy to think we know best, that we can run people’s lives better than they can themselves.”
“So, why are you so against them?” Bastian asked, a sullen set to his mouth.
“Because they’re wrong, Bastian. Even when we glimpse the deepest thoughts of a person, we don’t see the full picture. We can’t. And even if we could, even if we could create a utopia where people didn’t fight and everyone was safe, it wouldn’t be right. Do you understand?”
Bastian shook his head. “What can be more important than safety?”
“Freedom. The freedom to make choices, even bad ones, the freedom to make mistakes.”
Bastian made a frustrated noise and kicked his horse into a trot, moving up to ride beside Garrett. Danil dropped back to make room for him.
“Don’t be bringing yer mood up here, lad. I’ve enough salt fer the five of us,” Garrett muttered.
“Answer me something, rearick. What’s more important, freedom or safety?”
“Askin’ me won’t help ye make up yer own mind.” Garrett spat, avoiding eye contact with Bastian.
“Then how am I supposed to?” the young mystic grumbled. “I’ve spent my whole life locked up in a Temple.”
“Tell me, boy, why’d the Master’s party suddenly jump from one to three? What happened that made her need two extra bodies with her?”
“You think she needed me?” Bastian snorted. “I snuck out to see if I could join her. I knew they’d say no if I asked first, and I was sure I’d be sent back when she saw me.”
“So, you could say… you traded safety for freedom? Seems to me you’ve already made up yer mind.”
Bastian gaped, realizing he’d walked straight into that trap. He should have read the rearick’s mind before falling for it. Bastian dove into Garrett’s mind, only to find there had been no trap, no tricks. Garrett had simply spoken his mind.
Bastian rode in silence, thinking over what he’d said.
15
The delay meant a hard ride to get to the first waypoint before dusk. Designed for rearick travelers hauling goods to the city, the waypoints were set up assuming visitors left in the early morning. Luckily, Julianne’s party weren’t lugging wagons.
They reached the campsite tired and, at least for the mystics, sore. None of the three had ridden recently, though Julianne was in better shape than the others. She helped Garrett and Bette set up the campsite as Danil prepared a fire.
�
�Need a hand?” Bastian crouched down next to Danil, offering the other man his sight.
“Better yet, why don’t you do it?” Danil suggested.
Bastian leaned over as Danil instructed him. He set up the kindling and wood, then struck the flint to spark the fire. He got it first try. The fire blossomed, chasing away the lengthening shadows and banishing the evening chill.
“Watch out,” Danil whispered loudly. “If Julianne sees how good you are at that, she'll drag you along every trip.”
Bastian laughed nervously. “I doubt that. I’m pretty useless out here. It’s nothing like being in the Temple.” He shivered as a cool breeze made the fire flicker.
“You’ll adjust.” Garrett walked over to drop a heavy pack beside Bastian. “There’s yer bedroll. You reckon ye can handle unrolling it? The piss tree is that one, but I’m not helpin’ ye with that.”
Danil chuckled as Bastian turned red. “I’ll be fine, rearick.” Bastian picked up his pack and took it to the nearest of the two tents. The soft fabric did nothing to disguise the hard rocks and sharp sticks on the ground below and Bastian groaned, not relishing the thought of laying on it with only a thin mattress to protect his hide.
“Here, set ours up, too, will ye?” Garrett lobbed two more packs in and Bastian obediently rolled them out, squishing them in side by side. When he was done, he returned to the fire.
“...and after I saved her hide, she had the nerve to tell me it was my bloody fault.” Garrett stared into the fire, oblivious to Bastian’s return.
“Perhaps she really did know what she was doing.” Danil’s soft voice reached out over the crackling sticks.
Bastian slipped into Garrett’s head to get a handle on the conversation. The rearick was tearing himself apart, not just having injured his friend, but his conflicted feelings towards Bette.
Rearick culture was very traditional when it came to gender roles. Garrett’s tentative attraction to his colleague gave him an urge to protect her, keep her away from danger and the sort of hardships the men faced.
Though rearick women were no strangers to hard work, and deeply respected for their management skills, they were rarely seen in male-dominated jobs like the guards.
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