Lieutenant Faircloth shook his head. “Like I said, serla, folks are scared and searching for answers.” He lowered his voice again. “Rumor has it that your sentinels aren’t able to control any mages any more – that’s why so many escaped. People are saying that the escaped mages—either working alone or with renegades—attacked Parsa. Either way, it don’t look good.”
“That’s preposterous,” Talon said before she could stop herself.
He raised his gloved hands. “I agree, Commander, and I put a stop to such talk when I hear it, but fear spreads quicker than flames on thatched roofs.”
Gods above, this was the last thing she needed right now. Although Lieutenant Faircloth seemed earnest, some of his fellow city guards behind him shot suspicious glares towards the sentinels. A few even kept their hands on their sword hilts. Some of the sentinels stirred behind her, but Talon stilled them with a raised hand. “Thank you for the warning, Lieutenant, but we’ll be fine.”
He dipped into another salute and Talon passed by, her squads following her onto the bridge, which now stretched into darkness over the roaring river. At the end of the bridge, two lights flickered on either side of the inner gates, but they seemed so small and distant, they may as well have been stars. The wind had blown out most of the torches that normally burned at intervals along the bridge, casting the way in shadow. An old, deep fear of the dark touched Talon’s heart at the sight, but she ignored the feeling and urged her mount onward.
*
“If faces were daggers, we’d all be dead,” Flint muttered.
Stonewall tried not to look at the wary, dark expressions of those they passed in the streets. It was late, but a few folks were about, and most regarded the sentinels with barely concealed mistrust. Thank Tor for his helmet shielding his face from their view.
“You heard the gate guard,” he replied. “People are frightened and angry by what happened at Parsa.”
“But we didn’t do anything wrong,” Milo said as they passed by a group of rowdy young men that had fallen silent the moment the sentinels came into view. “We tried to help those poor people.”
“Think how the situation looks to someone who wasn’t there,” Beacon said. “Someone who has no understanding of magic or mages – or thralls.”
Rook, still walking her horse beside Stonewall’s, shuddered. “I was there, and I understand some of those things, and I’m still frightened.”
She did not add “and angry,” but Stonewall heard it in her voice. They passed by the young men, but Stonewall felt their gazes upon his back like a naked blade. “Once we’re able to cure thralls, folks will see the truth.”
“Do you really think Mage Halcyon can do it?” Rook asked.
Stonewall answered without hesitation. “If anyone can, it’s Kali. It’s just a matter of time.”
“Time.” Beacon sighed. “How much do we have, I wonder?”
“Before the next thrall attack?” Milo asked.
The mender’s leather gear creaked with his shrug. “That, too.”
By the time they reached the garrison, Stonewall was having to work hard to keep from grabbing a weapon to protect himself and his squad-mates. No one had offered an overt threat, but the angry looks set every one of his survival instincts on edge. Danger, his better sense warned. Run or fight.
If only it were that easy.
As Stonewall passed through the garrison gates, Talon said his name. Thankfully, his helmet hid his grimace as he dismounted and led Frost over to her. “Yes, Commander?”
“Leave your horse with one of your squad,” she said. “I’ve something to show you.”
Ea’s tits and teeth, he thought. This won’t end well.
He turned, but Beacon had already stepped over to take Frost’s reins. The mender gave him an inquiring look, but Stonewall shook his head. Whatever Talon was planning, he would face as best he could. He hoped. Beacon nodded and turned back for the others, Frost’s hooves clopping on the courtyard’s flagstones. Stonewall watched his squad depart before going to Talon, where she stood near the entrance to the barracks.
“Ser?” he asked.
Her helmet was tucked under her arm, but her expression was blank. His stomach twisted. “Come with me,” she said, and slipped through the opening, to the interior door.
The lack of wind, the silence, fell upon Stonewall like a crashing wave. Torches flickered down the stone corridor. Talon took one and led him through the hallways, past the men’s and women’s barracks, past the common room, down a stairwell until they reached the door that led to the garrison’s detention area.
Stonewall’s head felt light as Talon withdrew a key from a chain on her belt. The need to flee hammered at his brain and body, but why would he run? There was no danger for him here. There was only a renegade mage; surely that was what Talon wanted to show him. Why she wanted him to see this mage was anyone’s guess. Perhaps another threat aimed at Kali: This is what will become of the woman you love if you keep to this path.
Be calm, Stonewall told himself. The gods are with you.
Talon pushed open the door, ironwood slats covered with iron bars alloyed with hematite. The detention area stretched before them: a row of cells with stone walls, floors, and ceilings. Hematite was inlaid within the stones to prevent mages from using their powers. The doors—also made of iron alloyed with hematite—were simple bars with room only to pass a hand between them, and a plate or small bowl beneath. It was silent. Light from Talon’s torch cast dancing shadows down the cells as they passed by each one: empty. Their steps echoed. Stonewall’s heart pounded harder against his ribs until they reached the final cell.
Talon paused and held up the torch, revealing the figure of a large, dark-skinned man seated in one corner, opposite a chamber pot that, judging from the stench, had not been emptied in some time. The renegade mage wore tattered leather pants, and sat with his knees tucked up, his head bowed and hidden in shadow. Stonewall caught the gleam of metal at his wrists and a chain stretching to the wall.
“Mage,” Talon said. “Look at me.”
The fellow did not move.
Gods above. Stonewall had seen imprisoned mages before, but this sight was somehow worse than his memories. Was this what would happen to Kali before Talon killed her? We must leave. The thought was unwelcome as it was strong, but he could not ignore it now, not with reality only a few strides away.
Talon shot Stonewall a glance that was probably meant to be weary, if not for its deliberateness. “He won’t even talk to me. I know he’s from Indigo-By-the-Sea – I learned that much the one time he did open his mouth. I thought, perhaps, you might have better luck, Stonewall.”
The figure’s head jerked up and Talon held her torch closer so his features were thrown into stark relief.
Bahar – Drake, as a sentinel.
Stonewall stared at his dead brother’s face, shock rolling through him like thunder, like a sudden storm. His mouth opened and he took a step backward, unable to speak, unable to even think clearly.
“What is this?” he stammered, looking at Talon. “What’s going on?”
“You tell me,” she replied calmly.
Stonewall shook his head, his breath caught in his throat. “He’s dead. You’re dead,” he said to the mage wearing his brother’s face.
Bahar’s dark green eyes—their mother’s eyes—were red-rimmed, holding none of the certainty they once had. “I’m so sorry, Elan,” he said in a hoarse voice.
“I take it, then,” Talon said. “That you know each other?”
*
Drake wished Talon had decided to torture him again. Anything would be better than seeing the betrayal on Elan’s face and knowing he was the cause. He ignored Talon’s snide comment and tried to make his voice sound less like shit and more like his own. “Elan, I know this is a shock, but I can–”
“You’re dead,” Elan said again.
Drake’s heart sank at his stricken tone. “Commander, if you’ve any human
ity at all, please let us have a moment alone.”
Talon ignored him and looked at Elan. “This is your brother?”
Elan blinked hard as if to clear his eyes, then looked back at Drake. “What…? How…?”
He trailed off, clearly unable to put a thought together. Every instinct screamed at Drake to go to his little brother’s side and comfort him, as he had so many times when they were children. But when he rose to move forward, the heavy chain that bound him to the wall dragged at his wrists and only let him take a few steps. Even if he’d been walking free, iron and hematite bars separated him from his little brother. Besides, he recognized the way Elan’s hands clenched into fists; the kid might very well punch him if he tried to approach. Best let Elan cool off while he explained. But he had no wish to have such a private—and difficult—conversation in front of the sentinel commander who wore the expression of a tabby cat when the fishmonger’s back was turned.
So, no privacy, then. Fantastic. Drake managed to get to his feet with minimal grunting; no small accomplishment, given that every muscle screamed in agony. “Elan, I had to make a choice three years ago. I’m so sorry, but it had to be this way.”
“A choice?” Elan said. “What kind of choice? What are you talking about? You died. Are you…” He went rigid before he took a step back. “Are you a thrall?”
“A thrall?” Drake frowned. “No, relah, I’m alive and well. Sort of.” He shot Talon a dark look, but she only met his gaze with maddening calm. Damn that–
Drake bit off the thought and focused on his brother. “I tried to be a good sentinel, Elan. Like you. But that life wasn’t for me.”
“Because you’re a mage,” Talon said. Her voice was too steady to be genuinely calm.
Elan’s eyes widened again. “Is that true?”
“Aye,” Drake said, glaring at Talon. “Though I would have liked the big reveal to have gone another way. Yes, Elan. I am a mage. Always was. I just didn’t…” He winced. “Didn’t tell you.”
“Why?”
Drake held his brother’s gaze, but his mind was far afield, back home on the bustling streets of Pillau, where everything smelled like the salty sea. “Because it was better not to have magic. The Circle would have separated us: thrown me in a bastion and sent you to the sentinels.” Bitter sorrow caught in his throat; he choked out his next words. “I just wanted to keep you safe.”
“You lied to me twice,” Elan said, dazed. “More than that. My whole life.” He ducked his head.
Be calm, Drake scolded himself. Be strong, for Elan. It’s the least you can do. “I did,” he replied slowly, carefully. “But the first time was to protect you, to keep us together.”
“And the second?”
Despite Drake’s efforts, something hot and fierce burned at his eyes. Now he had to look away. Tobin. I’m sorry, love, he thought. I’m so sorry. Why did he always hurt the ones he loved most? “I couldn’t do it any more, Elan. I couldn’t shut away my magic. It’s a part of me; I tried to hide from it, or run from it, my whole life, but I couldn’t any longer. And only one path became clear. I didn’t tell you because I wanted to protect you, in case… In case my plan went sideways, which it did. Tobin and I snuck away from the bastion, but he didn’t survive much past that.”
“Tobin,” Elan said, rubbing his forehead. “Ea’s tits, I knew you two were close—more than close—but I had no idea…” He trailed off, shaking his head.
“You see now, Stonewall.” Talon’s voice startled both men into looking at her. “You see what comes of loving a mage, what comes of lying and sneaking around, what comes of breaking your oath.”
Loving a mage? Drake stared at his brother. “What’s she talking about?”
Elan glared at him. “None of your business.” He looked at the commander. “How did you know about him?”
“I had a hunch.” She squared her shoulders. “The question remains: how much do you know of what he did?”
“I don’t know a sodding thing about him, apparently,” Elan shot back, adding a belated, “Ser.”
“So you weren’t involved in the missing hematite shipment?” she asked.
Elan swore again and looked at Drake. “That was you?”
Drake grimaced. So much for playing stoic.
“What else have you done?” Elan stared at him. “The escaped mages. Eris and the others… That was your doing, wasn’t it?”
Rather than answer, Drake glared at the commander. “This is cruel, even for you. Let us have a moment alone, and I’ll tell you whatever you want.”
Talon’s smile showed too many teeth. “I have all the information I need.” Her smile faded as she turned to fully face Elan. “Until further notice, Sergeant, you are on probation.”
Sergeant? Drake thought with a flash of pride. Good work, brother. Well, except for the probation.
“For what?” The way Elan said the words, Drake thought he already knew.
She gave him a withering look and began to tick off on her gloved fingers. “Your connection with a renegade mage. Your connection with a bastion mage. Your inability to follow a simple order. Your continued, blatant insubordination. Shall I go on?” When Elan did not answer, she stepped closer, her movements fluid as a wild cat. “One more toe out of line, Stonewall, and I’ll have you sent to the mines before you can say her name.”
Elan stared at his commander. Only because Drake knew his brother so well did he recognize the raw fury laced in Elan’s body, running through each vein as thick and hot as magic – or hematite.
Talon regarded him, cool as an early spring morning. “Do you understand?”
At last Elan nodded once, his shoulders sinking. “Yes, ser.”
“You’re lucky so many sentinels fell at Parsa,” she added. “Because we need every pair of daggers right now. Otherwise, you’d already be on your way to Lasath, for Argent to deal with.” Before Elan could respond, she turned to leave. “I’ll wait outside, if you want a moment alone with your brother.”
Elan shook his head. “My brother is dead.”
Without another word, he shoved on his helmet and slipped past Talon, his steps carrying him into the shadowed corridor and away from Drake.
Nine
“This is unbelievable,” Cai said, rubbing his temple. “After all we went through to leave that sodding bastion…you want to go back.”
Eris had not yet recovered fully, so it took more effort than normal to keep the ire from seeping into her voice. “Leal’s family is only a day gone, Cai. I’m sure you can catch up with them.”
“And miss the fun?” He snorted. “Not on your life, Echina.”
“Then stop whining,” Adrie replied, stepping out of Leal’s caravan with a pot of tea and several mugs.
“I’m saying what we’re all thinking.” Cai gestured to the others seated around the fire; after Sirvat, Gaspar, and Lyn had gone with the Sufani, only eight mages remained. A few of them nodded in agreement, while others looked skeptical. “And I’m not whining,” Cai added.
Eris rolled her eyes. Arguing was pointless, but the knowledge didn’t make her want to slap her friend any less. “I’ll concede that it will be dangerous,” she said. “And we don’t yet know how we’ll manage getting in – or out.”
“Out of the city or the bastion?” Adrie asked.
Eris looked at the fire, although she did not feel its warmth. “Both.”
Silence descended, broken only by the cries of mourning doves.
“I’m sure they’ve closed off the blood run,” Marcen said at last. He paced along the perimeter, plucking his dulcimer. Eris had scouted this patch of woods and was convinced of their safety – for now. They were far from any roads, though not so far from Whitewater City, as the crow flew.
Eris nodded. “No doubt, but I’d like to check, just the same.” She studied the rough sketch she’d drawn in the dirt beside their fire. And it was rough; she had no parchment or charcoal and besides, Gid had been the artist, not her. Don’t t
hink about that now, she told herself.
Only when Adrie held a steaming mug of tea in front of her did she look up into her friend’s concerned face. Eris tried to smile to show she was fine, but her mouth didn’t cooperate and she gave more of a grimace instead.
Adrie took her own mug and sat beside Eris, glancing around. “How much longer should we wait for Leal to return?”
“If she returns,” Cai muttered.
“She will,” Eris said, with more certainty than she felt.
Marcen strummed a few soft notes, his expression relaxed, though his steps were wary as he paced. “Unless she returns with an army or a fire drake, I’m not sure how much she can help. Heartfire’s over; there won’t be another opportunity like it for months. Should we rely on her so much?”
The tea was sweet and soothing: lavender and honey, warming Eris from the inside-out. Where or how Adrie had gotten it, Eris had no idea. “We’ll wait one more day before moving on; I’m not yet back at my full strength, but I don’t want to remain in one place for too long. As soon as I’m able, I’ll fly to the bastion to try to get a sense of what’s going on within before we make any plans.”
“But how–”
“I don’t know, Cai,” Eris broke in, glaring at him. “I need more information before I can form a solid plan.”
Cai crossed his arms and stared at her across the fire. “This is folly. I’m not sure which would be worse: getting captured or killed.”
“You’ll be neither, if I have anything to say about it,” Leal said, emerging from the tree line. She moved on silent steps and came to stand by Eris. The other mages started, but Eris only felt relief.
Thank the stars, Eris thought as she sipped her tea. But to Leal, she said only, “Well?”
“I’ve brought…allies,” Leal said.
“Other Sufani?”
Leal shook her head, sunlight dappling her indigo hood.
“Friends of yours, then?” Eris asked.
“Not exactly.” Leal gestured to someone in the tree line surrounding the caravans. Three figures slipped from the shadows: two women, both ruddy with wind and sun, one with fair hair and the other with crimson; and a lean fellow with fair skin and an auburn beard. The women were armed: one with a bow and arrows, the other with a spear like Drake had used. The man wore no weapons, only a weary, grim expression.
Storm Page 9