Storm

by Lauren L. Garcia

  Otherwise, there were no decorations, no indication that his daughter lived here. It was the room of a sentinel commander, nothing more. Disappointment swelled in his chest. Foolish. He should not have expected anything else.

  An unlocked door divided Talon’s bedchamber from her office. A stack of scrolls rested on her desk amid sheets of parchment littering the surface. More scrolls and bound papers sat on shelves across from her desk. He thumbed through one of the volumes, thinking it was a book, but frowned at the sentinel script. He’d often asked her to teach him their peculiar code, but she had always refused. “Ignorance is safer for you,” she had said every time. “This is for the best.”

  Foley turned to leave, but noticed one of the desk drawers was slightly open. He hesitated; he really needed to find her, or someone, to tell them what was going on, but he so rarely got a glimpse into his daughter’s life. He heard no footsteps approaching, so he went to the desk and pulled open the drawer. Within was more parchment, inks and quills and drying powder, sticks of charcoal and wax, and a seal with the sentinel sigil. Nothing of interest.

  He made to close the drawer, but noticed something gleaming beneath the parchment. When he lifted the paper, he frowned at the sight of three hematite vials nestled against one another, wrapped in a linen cloth that had come undone at the motion of the drawer.

  Hematite. The dispelling stone, indeed, for it muted magic and leeched away life, and his child had been regularly poisoning herself with the stuff for…gods above, nearly twenty years now. Hematite would claim his daughter’s life one day soon, if her duties did not.

  Foley’s jaw tightened against the anger that flooded his heart. He slammed the drawer shut and slipped out of the office, fury and bitterness warring for his full attention. He considered going back to bed, because what did any of this matter? So Sergeant Stonewall wanted to run away with Kalinda. Let them. They were doomed, anyway. Talon would find them, or High Commander Argent, or the thralls, or regular folks with violence in their hearts. They would no longer be anyone’s problem but each other’s, and perhaps his daughter would know some peace.

  He began to make his way back to the bastion, but a wrong turn brought him to a large open room, much the same as the mages’ common area. An unfamiliar man murmured from within, so Foley made to slip past. Then he heard Talon.

  “Nox bring your spirit safely over the river. Tor guide your steps into the next life. The One keep you in all your days.”

  Foley knew her well enough to hear the despair in her voice. All other thoughts fled his mind, save one: his child was hurting. He stepped into the large room.

  At first glance, it was an infirmary, for every available surface held a sentinel. Only some of them were moving upon the tables and sleeping pallets that cluttered the space. Talon and a slender, dark-skinned mender stood over one of the tables, where a male sentinel lay still and silent. Talon’s back was to Foley as she drew a cloth over the dead man’s body, but the mender looked up, and his eyes widened.

  Talon glanced at the mender, and then turned. When her gaze fell upon Foley, her lips parted in shock before her eyes narrowed into dagger points. “What are you doing here?”

  He stared at the shadows beneath the commander’s eyes, at the way her hands trembled, at the waxy skin that covered her face. Where was his daughter? Where was the little girl who had crawled into bed with him and Isra when she’d had a nightmare?

  Gone, you old fool, his better sense told him. She was gone the moment she was born, for she has no magic. She was never yours.

  The truth had always lived in his heart but he’d never wanted to acknowledge it.

  “I asked you a question,” Talon snapped, now barely an arm’s length away.

  Foley blinked in surprise. He hadn’t noticed she’d moved. “Sergeant Stonewall and Kalinda are gone,” he managed. “I encountered them as they were leaving the bastion. I thought you’d want to know.”

  She stared at him. “When? Just now?”

  “I’m not sure,” he admitted, for he didn’t know how long he’d been wandering through the garrison. “But I don’t believe they are long gone. You can probably still–”

  “What good are you?” she broke in, clenching her hands. “Did you stop them? Did you even try?”

  “He’s a sentinel.” Foley was not without his own mettle, so he brandished his hook. “I’m in no hurry to lose the other.”

  “Stonewall is a soft-hearted imbecile. Like you. He wouldn’t have harmed you.”

  “Love makes people commit all manner of foolish acts,” Foley replied, narrowing his eyes.

  Talon scoffed and looked back at the mender, who grimaced beneath her gaze. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Mica, you’re in charge.”

  Mica looked around the room filled with dead and the barely alive, and his shoulders slumped. “Yes, ser.”

  “And you.” Talon grabbed Foley’s arm and began to force him down the hallway and out into the garrison courtyard. “Get back to the sodding bastion, where you’ll be safe.”

  But Foley held his place. His daughter was strong, and she came by such strength honestly. “No,” he said, digging in his heels.

  “What?”

  “No.” He placed his remaining hand on her cheek. “Perhaps they have the right idea. Let’s go. Now.”

  “You’re mad,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and shaking.

  “There’s nothing standing in our way, Talaséa. We can be free, together.”

  She stared at him with eyes the color of dark tea. His wife’s eyes. “I can’t leave, Da,” she whispered at last. “You know I can’t.”

  “Why not?” He gestured to the empty garrison around them. “No one will know. No one will care.”

  “Da–”

  “You’ve wasted your life on me,” he broke in. “But there’s still time to change that. We can both live the lives we were meant to.”

  His daughter looked at the gates, and then back at him. Her eyes were wet. “If we run, Argent will find us. I’ll be too weak to save you – weak or dead. And no one will be left to keep you safe.”

  Foley’s heart swelled. “Oh, child. Is that what you truly believe?”

  A tear slipped down her nose, but she swiped it away. When she met his gaze again, she was pure Commander. “I can still salvage this mess. Wait in your room. I’ll tell Argent… Well, I’ll think of something.” She released him and turned for the stables, and ignored how her name—her birthname—echoed on the garrison walls.

  Only when she was out of sight did Foley return to the bastion. The gates to the city still beckoned, but he would not leave his daughter alone.

  *

  All is not lost, Talon told herself as she readied her mount. I can fix this.

  Possibilities raced through her mind as she guided her horse out of the garrison stables. Cobalt and the others couldn’t have left more than an hour ago. If Stonewall and his allies had left immediately after, they might already have reached the gates. If so, her failure as a commander would be complete, and Argent would purge the bastion of every remaining mage. But if Stonewall had lingered for any reason, there was still a chance to catch him.

  Hooves clattered on the cobblestones as Talon urged her horse out of the garrison’s gates. The sound was not enough to drown out her thudding heart, so she focused on maneuvering through the crowded streets as quickly as possible. The sky was dull and gray and the wind blustered harder with each moment. It was still morning, but midday drew closer, and the city-dwellers out and about would only grow more numerous. When Talon reached one of the main roads, a convoy of massive wagons pulled by equally massive oxen took up most of the way, so she was forced to pull her horse to a stop and wait for them to pass.

  She gnashed her teeth at the delay. Was nothing in her control any longer? Perhaps it had never been. Gamber had just passed into his next life, and he was not the first she’d seen to Nox’s care since she had risen before dawn. The feelings of withdrawal were ge
tting worse. Despite the cold air, despite how her insides felt like ice, sweat rolled down her back. Her hands shook, so she rested them on the pommel of her saddle to keep them still.

  The last of the oxen passed and Talon dug her heels into her horse’s sides, urging the creature into a canter. Passers-by shouted obscenities. Something whistled past her head and she caught the scent of rotting fruit, but she ignored everything. Her vision darkened on the edges, for all that mattered lay directly ahead.

  She reached the inner gates in less than an hour but did not relish the victory. The city guards on duty swarmed to her horse, and her stomach dropped at the panic on their faces. “Have any other sentinels passed through the gates?” she demanded of the nearest guard.

  The young woman saluted. “Aye, Commander.” Talon’s heart froze, but the guard added, “A host of them, hours ago, led by Captain Cobalt.”

  “No others?”

  The guards exchanged glances before the first shook her head. “No, serla.”

  The gods were merciful. Talon offered a quick, silent thanks to Llyr, the god of luck, and dismounted, handing off her horse to the young guard. “Where are the other officers on duty? I have a mission for you all.”

  *

  A little later, Talon concealed herself just behind the outer gates. A squad of city guards stood by her side; another waited outside. All of them held perfectly still, as she’d ordered. She knew that Lieutenant Faircloth and his guards waited in a similar position behind the inner gates, out of sight of any passers-by. Only four city guards remained on either end of the bridge, ostensibly guarding it as normal. A few guards had gone down the road that led into the city, to delay any approaching travelers.

  The city guards were not her sentinels, but Talon was in no position to be choosy. Besides, the guards felt no ill-effects from lack of hematite, for the metal had never run hot and fierce through their veins. Talon prayed that wouldn’t spell anyone’s doom, but she had warned them of a potential mage threat.

  One of the guards, the young woman Talon had met before, leaned over to peer through the gates. She drew back and rested a hand on her crossbow. “They’re coming, serla.”

  “Have they stepped onto the bridge?”

  “Aye, serla. Three sentinels and a dark-haired woman.”

  Only three sentinels? Talon risked a glance and could not suppress a swell of satisfaction. Her hasty plan had worked: the burnie twins had remained loyal to her. They were the only ones. Rook had taken point; Beacon drew up the rear. Stonewall rode his dapple-gray mare at the center, Mage Halcyon seated behind him with her arms wrapped around his waist. The driving wind had pulled her hair free to ripple like a dark banner around her head.

  Talon frowned. Only one mage? Where was Stonewall’s renegade brother? Had Stonewall left the fellow to rot in the garrison, or had he been unable to free the bastard? She glanced around, expecting the renegade mage to leap out of the void, but saw no one. Perhaps Stonewall had left his own blood behind. A traitor of another kind, then.

  Stonewall’s squad had just ridden onto the bridge, having only encountered the barest of questions from the guards at the inner gates. Talon had ordered the guards not to detain the group, thus luring them into a false sense of security. Lieutenant Faircloth had been happy to comply.

  The squad’s horses went at a brisk trot, the sound of their hooves lost beneath the White River’s roar. No doubt Stonewall planned to gallop once they reached the outer gates. Talon and the guards would have to be quick. The squad was in the center of the bridge. It was time.

  Talon stepped out first, weapons still sheathed. The city guards at her back formed a wall of arms and armor before the outer gates. Their swords and crossbows came out, the metal dull against the blustery gray sky. They would kill if she gave the command. Someone else—again, at her order—pulled the inner gates closed and dropped the iron lock in place. The errant squad pulled their mounts up, looking wildly around, but Faircloth and his guards had done the same to the inner gates. Stonewall was trapped.

  “Traitors,” Talon called as she approached the squad. “You are all under arrest.”

  The three of them drew close together, keeping the mage between them. Stonewall glared at Talon from beneath his helmet. “Call us whatever you want, ser, but at least we’ll be able to live with ourselves.”

  Self-righteous moron! Talon drew her sword. “Dismount, all of you. Turn over the mage and your weapons, and no one will be harmed.”

  Rook and Beacon both looked at Stonewall, whose hands tightened on his reins. “We’re taking this mage to cure thralls,” he called over the wind and river. “We mean to leave in peace.”

  “Dismount,” Talon said again. “Comply, or else.”

  “Or else, what?”

  It was not Stonewall, but the little mage behind him. Halcyon peeked around his armored form to look at Talon. The wind whipped her cloak, but Talon swore she caught a flash of starlight. But when she blinked and looked again, only the mage’s dark eyes met hers in a challenge.

  “What will you do?” the mage said again, her voice light, almost merry. But there was an eerie, otherworldly resonance to her words that sent a chill up Talon’s spine. “What can you do to us?”

  “Kali, be still,” Stonewall hissed. His helmet concealed most of his features, but no armor could hide the fear in his voice.

  The mage ignored him and glanced at the assembled guards. “Who among you will be the first to fall?”

  Some of the city guards shifted, muttering in consternation, but a word from their officers silenced them. Beacon said something to Stonewall, while Rook held still, her gaze darting over the guards. None had reached for their weapons. No doubt Stonewall would not want to harm anyone unless absolutely necessary. Rook and Beacon were soft in that way, too. Talon caught Lieutenant Faircloth’s gaze across the bridge and lifted her sword.

  A renewed blast of wind. A shouted order to surround. Bedlam overtook the bridge as the city guards drove forward, pressing at the front and rear of the errant squad. The sentinels’ mounts, too well-trained to balk at the ambush, still danced nervously as the guards swarmed. Stonewall drew his daggers, the others following his lead, but there were too many guards and he was a sodding fool. He should never have stopped. He should have plunged through the guards and gates, and ridden to freedom. If he truly loved Mage Halcyon, nothing should have stopped him from keeping her safe.

  The city guards pulled him and the mage from the dapple-gray mare; Beacon and Rook met the same treatment. The sentinels struggled, even got a few good strikes in, but Talon saw no blood drawn. Soft fools, all of them. Had Talon not been so wrung dry, she might have lamented the ease of their capture.

  Movement by the inner gates caught her eye. The burnie twins and stepped onto the bridge, faces pale beneath their helmets. Their weapons were drawn. Talon allowed herself a flare of satisfaction and motioned them over. They both stared at her, and then began to lead their mounts forward.

  Two guards had grabbed the dark-haired mage. Now that Halcyon was free of her sentinel lover, her bare throat made Talon’s breath catch, more out of reflex than surprise. Of course, Stonewall had released her, even if he’d left his own kin behind.

  Talon faced the sergeant. “You are a shadow of what a proper sentinel should be. You break your oaths to the gods while your brothers and sisters in sacrifice suffer and die." She allowed the full force of her anger to add venom to her words. “You are Forsworn–”

  One of the guards who held Halcyon screamed and jerked away from the mage as if she’d been stung. But Halcyon only grabbed the young guard’s wrist and pulled the other woman closer. The guard twisted, her helmet clattering to the stone bridge as she cried out again. But the sound trickled into a gurgle as she clutched at her heart. All life drained from her face, leaving her cheeks hollow and her eyes dull. The other guard also tried to wrest himself free of the mage’s sudden, unnatural strength, but within seconds his cries faded into nothing. Both g
uards crumpled to the bridge, unmoving, as a few flecks of snow drifted to their gear. Halcyon looked at Talon with eyes that shone like stars, and smiled.

  “Thrall!” The cry rose on all sides, reaching above the White River’s roar.

  Stonewall, who had stood frozen with the rest, came alive and struggled in the grips of the guards. He broke free, but two more guards lunged for him. “Kali,” he shouted as he ducked to avoid them. “Kali!”

  The mage glanced at him, but looked back at Talon, eyes still blazing. Everything seemed darker, as if Halcyon had pulled what little light remained into her own gaze, turning it back upon the world in a perversion of the natural order. Talon’s heart hammered and she took a step backward. Then she caught herself and whirled to the guards behind her, “Take her down!”

  One of the younger guards stood about ten paces from the mage, and answered the call. She fired a shot straight for the mage’s heart. The guard’s aim was true; her crossbow’s bolt flew through the wind and snow…

  And landed with a dull thwack in Stonewall’s side. He’d broken free of the guards to reach his little mage-whore—the sodding thrall—and grunted with the bolt’s impact into his thick leather cuirass. He collapsed at the mage’s feet and did not move. Had the bolt cut through his gear and into his skin? Talon could not tell. Armor could only protect a sentinel from so much. Mage Halcyon dropped to his side. Beacon, too, jerked free of the guards who held him and darted to his sergeant. The city guards, unnerved, looked at Talon for instructions.

  Only a few seconds had passed since she’d called the order. Talon’s stomach roiled but she ignored the feeling and strode forward to the sergeant and the mage. The burnie twins had reached the pair first, sheathing their weapons as they knelt beside the mender.

  “Take her,” Talon ordered them, nodding to Halcyon.

  Flint and Milo exchanged glances. From behind them, Rook said their names, softly. Milo tensed, but Flint nodded and reached for the mage.