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Storm Page 17

by Lauren L. Garcia


  Rook hadn’t liked it, but hadn’t said anything more after that single conversation the day after Heartfire.

  But what do I think? Milo knew nothing of romantic love, but he knew enough about Stonewall to answer Talon.

  “The sergeant is…a little closed-off, sometimes,” Milo admitted. “I think he’s still learning how to work with a team. But otherwise, he’s a fair leader and a skilled fighter, and I have no complaints.”

  They approached the Eye and passed a group of city guards who each nodded to the sentinels. Talon returned the nod, her gaze still ahead. “Has he made any trips to the bastion, alone?”

  “Not since Heartfire.” Thank the One, it was the truth. If the sergeant had snuck off recently, he’d done so without Milo’s knowledge. He risked a glance to see if Talon accepted the answer and found her frowning. His heart began to race again, the feeling of danger made stronger by the dark looks some of the market-goers kept shooting at the sentinels.

  “He’s good for us—all of us—and we all like him a great deal,” Milo blurted. “Even Flint, I think, though it’s hard to tell with her, sometimes. And–”

  “Be still,” Talon broke in. Wincing internally, Milo snapped his jaw shut as she glanced his way again. She was still frowning, so he braced for a reprimand, but there was no trace of anger in her next words. “I know the conversation with Serla Vellis was difficult, but I appreciate your honesty – and courage. It takes an iron spine to stand up to the leader of the Whitewater City Circle.” A warm smile touched her mouth. “You’re growing into a fine sentinel Milo. I look forward to seeing the warrior you will one day become.”

  The praise caught Milo up short. The only answer he could think to give was a warrior’s salute. When he straightened, Talon dug into the muslin pouch and withdrew a single vial, pressing it into Milo’s palm. He stared at the full dose of hematite before looking back at her and shaking his head. “I don’t need this, ser,” he stammered, trying to hand the vial back. “Give it to Redfox, or one of the other cinders–”

  But she closed his gloved hand back around the vial. “Keep it. You never know when you’ll need more strength. Besides, it brings me comfort to know I can count on you.”

  With that, she turned her back to him and threaded her way through the Eye, her long, powerful strides causing the market-goers to scramble out of her path. Milo stared at the vial before tucking it safely in his belt-pouch and hurrying after his commander. His head spun. Was the vial a bribe of some kind? But why in Ea’s realm would Talon want to bribe a burnie?

  As Milo reached the front of the Eye, he spotted a familiar figure heading toward the fleet rider station. He lifted his hand in greeting. “Rook!”

  She froze and then waved back. Milo trotted to her and they met in front of the station: an unassuming building with a courtyard and iron gates, open during the day.

  “What are you doing out here alone?” Milo asked, shielding his eyes from the sky’s white glare.

  Rook lifted a brow. “I should ask that of you, burnie.”

  The tension that had been stringing Milo taut broke at her words. Relief at being with his friend almost made him dizzy, and he grinned at her. “So…what’s her name?”

  “Whose name?”

  Milo nodded to the tight roll of parchment in Rook’s grip. “The fair maiden you’re writing to.”

  She flushed, but before she could reply, she grabbed Milo’s arm and pulled him to one side just as a girl and her fleet came barreling toward the station. Several bulging sacks bounced upon the saddle with each of the large deer’s strides.

  “Stay out of the way,” the rider called, adding a string of obscenities that made Milo frown.

  “Isn’t she a little young for that kind of talk?” he asked as the girl and her deer clattered into the courtyard.

  Rook watched them go. “Fleet riders grow up fast. Maybe too fast.”

  “You were one, before you were a sentinel,” Milo said. “Right?”

  She nodded. “You should get back. Ferro’s looking for you.”

  Milo grimaced. “More stable duty, I guess.”

  “Aye.” She gave him a sympathetic look before nodding to the fleet rider station. “Well, I’d better get a move on.”

  Despite the reminder of his continuing punishment, despite the strange turn the day had taken, Milo smiled again at his squad-mate. “Aye. Don’t want to keep your sweetheart waiting.”

  He’d expected—and hoped for—a laugh in response, but Rook’s face fell and her shoulders slumped. “No, I don’t.”

  “If you’re just going to be a minute, I’ll wait for you,” he offered. “We shouldn’t walk about alone, not after what happened with Slate…” He trailed off at her pained expression.

  Rook considered, glancing between the parchment and Milo, before nodding once, slowly. “That’s kind of you, Mi. Thanks.”

  He shrugged. “That’s what brothers-in-service are for.”

  Fourteen

  Stonewall took one last look at the bastion. The rest of his squad had already slipped through the gates, heading to the barracks for their midday meal, but something held him back.

  Hornfel, one of the burnies on duty at the gates, shifted in place. “Everything all right, Sergeant?”

  Stonewall nodded absently, his mind far afield. Something wasn’t right. He nearly dismissed the notion as a byproduct of his anxiety, but still stayed behind. Through the gates, Beacon turned to give him a questioning look.

  “Not hungry?” Beacon asked.

  “I’ll be right there,” Stonewall replied.

  The mender’s gaze slid over his shoulder and then back to Stonewall. “You’ll be late for the meeting. Don’t want to get on Talon’s bad side. Again.”

  “I’ll be fine. Just go, Beak.”

  Beacon nodded and continued with the others.

  After they’d gone, Hornfel cleared his throat, drawing Stonewall’s attention. “Haven’t seen your squad around here lately, ser.”

  “Cobalt added us to the duty roster,” Stonewall replied, still searching the bastion. He half expected to see Kali approaching, and when he spotted a lone figure hurrying up, his heart soared. But she was too tall for Kali, and her pale hair and smooth stride soon formed Sadira.

  “Really, ser?” Hornfel sounded bewildered. “But I thought you weren’t allowed to…”

  Stonewall shot the younger man a look and the burnie grimaced beneath his helmet. “If you have a problem with my presence here,” Stonewall said. “Take it up with Captain Cobalt.” Yes, he’d added himself and his squad to the bastion patrol, but Cobalt hadn’t argued or changed anything. Had they formed a truce after the hematite shipment had been destroyed four days ago? Or did the captain simply have too many other worries to bother with Stonewall?

  Either way, Stonewall wasn’t about to object.

  “Sergeant.” Urgency laced Sadira’s voice and her dark-blue dress fluttered behind her as she hurried up. “I must speak with you.”

  Stonewall ignored Hornfel and went to meet her. “What’s wrong?”

  Pale eyes studied him before darting to Hornfel and the bastion gates. “I must speak with you…privately.”

  Was Kali in trouble? His heart seized but he tried to keep his apprehension from showing. “My patrol is over, so I’m not allowed to be in the bastion any longer,” he said, loud enough for Hornfel to overhear. He gave Sadira a look he prayed she would read. “But the next patrol will be along in–”

  Thank Tor, she was quick. “I have information about the Heartfire escape. I know where Eris and the others might have gone.”

  Stonewall pretended to study her, and then looked at the burnie on gate duty. “Fetch the captain or commander at once. I’ll keep an eye on the mage.”

  Hornfel’s eyes widened. “But ser, don’t you want to–”

  “That’s an order, burnie,” Stonewall snapped. “Move your ass before I do it for you.”

  The younger man stammered an affirmati
ve before scurrying toward the barracks, leaving Stonewall and Sadira alone. “I am…concerned for Kali,” Sadira whispered. “And I did not know who else I could speak to.”

  Stonewall could not find his voice right away. It’d been too long since he’d seen Kali and longer since they had spoken, but they had agreed that such distance was for the best. He had only just been permitted back into the bastion, and that was probably because so many other sentinels were growing too sick to stand. A few days ago, Talon had managed to get a little bit of hematite, which the menders had added to their dwindling supply. Even so, Beacon said that more and more sentinels came to the infirmary every day.

  Stonewall didn’t want to think too hard about that, for he, too, felt the chill: the unrelenting urge for that sweet fire in his blood. And although he fell into his bed each night, exhausted, sleep eluded him for all but a few restless hours.

  “What’s wrong?” Stonewall asked again.

  Sadira tilted her head, indicating that he should follow. Without hesitation, Stonewall fell in step beside her as she crossed the bastion courtyard to Gideon Echina’s grave. Stonewall shuddered at the mound of dirt marked with a few shining pebbles, dried flowers, and other trinkets. The thought of anyone’s soul wandering aimlessly, endlessly, was enough to make his guts roil.

  Swallowing his unease, he looked at Sadira, who twisted her hands. “We burned him,” she said.

  “You…?”

  “Kali and I.” Sadira took a deep breath, touching the hematite torc around her neck, sitting beneath the collar. Quickly, she related the story of Gideon’s cremation, including how Kali had encouraged her to use her powerful magic. There was a softness to Sadira’s gaze as she spoke of Kali, and Stonewall took a second to marvel at the trust Sadira placed in him by sharing this information; trust Sadira had probably formed through her friendship with Kali.

  “Foley said he had ‘words ready’ when anyone noticed,” Sadira finished, gesturing again to the grave. “But so far, no sentinel has spoken of this.”

  “Most of the garrison was out hunting for Eris and the others around that time,” Stonewall said. “And I suppose the snow covered up any signs of magic. I can’t say I’m angry that Gideon got a proper cremation, though officially, I probably should be. But…Kali?”

  “Just after we burned the body, Kali began acting strangely. She acted as if in pain, though she bore no wound. She fell and would not allow anyone to help her up.”

  “Her knee?”

  “This was different. She claimed she was ill with women’s troubles, but…” Sadira sighed. “She is a poor liar.”

  “Indeed, she is.” Stonewall tried to speak lightly, but his heart was racing faster than before. “Where is she, now?”

  “She shut herself in her room and will not come out. She eats only crumbs from the trays I leave, and you can hear her viol all night. I don’t know if she sleeps. Foley told me ‘let her be,’ but something is wrong. And something befell her at Parsa, something that makes me think whatever troubles her is not illness or injury.”

  Stonewall’s head felt light at the mention of the shattered village and he gritted his teeth against the memories. Something was wrong with Kali; he knew it, too. Nothing that screamed danger, but a muttered warning: Kali’s strange behavior the night of Heartfire, after the second thrall attack at their camp. “Let me go,” she had snarled at him, and for less than a second her eyes had flashed… He’d told himself the sight was a product of his imagination, and nothing more. But if his brother could come back from the dead, anything was possible.

  “I’ve had similar thoughts about Parsa,” he said slowly, forcing away the thoughts of Drake.

  The Zhee mage nodded. “Kali and I both sensed a…foreign presence in the villagers. But Kali alone investigated.”

  Worse and worse. “She…investigated its particles?”

  “Yes.” Sadira gave him an odd look. “What do you know of such matters?”

  “She’s told me a little of how magic works.” His head swam and his limbs felt weak, as if his body could no longer support his weight. The urge to abandon everything and race to Kali’s room beat at him like a hammer. Every muscle, every bone, ached to be at her side. But he could not risk endangering her any more. Not yet. Not until he had a real plan, not just a shadow of an idea.

  “I grow fearful,” Sadira whispered.

  “Me too.”

  Milo had told the squad of his meeting with Talon and the Circle priest, but the commander hadn’t given the garrison any direction – yet. No doubt that’s what today’s meeting was for. And any moment Hornfel would return with Talon or Cobalt, and Stonewall would be in a world of shit – again. He could not help Kali if he was banned from the bastion a second time. Although he had regained some standing with Cobalt, he was still on probation. He could not risk stepping out of line until he was ready to cross that line forever.

  But the woman he loved was in trouble. Sod it all. He’d have to figure something out.

  So he ensured his voice held more confidence than he felt. “I’ll go to her as soon as I can. I may need your help, though.”

  Relief swept over Sadira’s face and she gave a brief bow. “Thank you.” She paused. “Stonewall.”

  When Cobalt and Hornfel arrived a few minutes later, Stonewall stood by the closed bastion gates, a suitably irritated expression on his face. The moment Cobalt came within earshot, Stonewall made a show of shaking his head and glaring at no one. “False alarm,” he said. “She didn’t have any information of value. She just wanted to ask after Eris Echina.”

  Cobalt frowned at him. “That’s what you get for being so chummy with mages, Sergeant. They prey on weakness.” He jerked his thumb toward the barracks. “Come on. Talon’s waiting.”

  *

  Shivering, Kali scrubbed the linen towel over her arms and legs. Without magical assistance, her hair would take hours to dry, so for now she had wrapped another towel around her head. The stone floor of the women’s bathing room was like ice on the soles of her feet and she thought of her wool socks with longing. But she needed to get dry first.

  Hanging lanterns soaked the room in warm light. The scents of rosemary and sunflower oil clung to her prickling skin, and Kali exhaled in relief. Yes, she was freezing, but at least she was clean. As she had hoped, a bath had helped bring a little bit of calm order back to the chaos in her mind. If only she’d been able to use her magic to heat the water. Normally, she’d have asked Sadira to do so—the Zhee mage would not only warm the bathwater, but the entire room as well, including the stone floor—but of course, Kali couldn’t be near Sadira now. She couldn’t be near any other mage. Not until she had more control over…

  Over the Fata that had taken hold of her.

  She shivered, but not from cold. Taken hold, she reminded herself. Not taken over. She still felt the Fata’s presence: a wolf prowling through each corner of her mind, searching for weakness. Distraction seemed to keep the creature at bay, so she’d spent hours with her viol, or reading every book in her collection. But in the fortnight since Heartfire, those activities had lost their shine and she felt the Fata within poised and eager to strike.

  But did they just want magic? Or was there something else they were after? Had the Fata only tried to possess mages, she might have thought magic was their ultimate desire, but so far only non-magical folk had been turned into thralls. No; something bigger was going on. Kali was sure of it.

  Dry enough and ready to be warm, Kali wrapped the towel around her torso so she could tiptoe to her clean clothes, heaped on one of the bathing room’s wooden benches.

  When Kali had first arrived at Whitewater Bastion, the sheer size of the place and the number of mages living within its walls had left her awestruck. However, that awe had turned to dismay once she’d seen the bathing rooms. Both women’s and men’s were little more than single dorm rooms with multiple tubs. Back at Starwatch, she had gotten used to the hot springs the bastion had been built over, th
us making every bath the height of luxury. Here, it wasn’t so bad if Sadira was around—or if Kali could have used her own magic—but the hematite collar prevented her from doing much. Besides, even if she’d been without the collar, she was too exhausted from lack of sleep to try anything magical.

  Sweet blood.

  Kali clenched her jaw and tried to ignore the Fata’s voice inside her head, and instead busied herself with hopping into her socks first – without removing her towel. Not an easy feat, given her knee pain, but her feet were sodding freezing. Her antics caused the towel around her hair to come loose and crumple to the floor.

  A soft knock sounded at the door. Kali frowned. Everyone should be in the common room, which was why she’d chosen to bathe at supper time. Had Sadira come to check on her again? Or Foley? “Who’s there?” she called.

  “Someone who loves you,” Stonewall replied through the door.

  Her mouth fell open in shock. What in the stars was he thinking? She limped to the bathing room door, damp hair plastered to her back and one sock in her hand, and wrenched the door open. Sure enough, her sentinel was there, fully armored and glancing down the empty corridor behind him with apprehension.

  Kali pulled him inside and shut the door behind them. “What in the blazing void are you doing here?”

  He swept a cursory look around the room before resting his gloved hands on her shoulders to study her face. “Are you all right? Sadira said…” He trailed off when she frowned. “We’re both concerned,” he finished.

  His gloves were cold and his armor wouldn’t be much better, but the moment he touched her, something inside of her relaxed. Kali pressed against him to better savor his familiar scent; all of him was familiar in a way that went deeper than love or lust or any of the emotions they’d shared. Familiar; almost kin in a strange sense, although she’d searched his particles before to be certain they shared no blood.

  Stonewall wrapped his arms around her and held her close, and they stood in silence. At last, she pulled back to look up at him. “I thought sentinels didn’t come inside the mages’ private spaces.”

 

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