Ameyron’s head snapped up. “You know, I might be able to help you with that. I have had some experience with… similar matters.” He glanced at her swollen belly and consulted his notebook.
Korinna felt her heart leap with the first glimmer of hope she’d had in hours, but she quelled her excitement. The mage didn’t appear to be very confident in his assessment. “You mean that you’re a healer?” She glanced over at the girl. “You could cure me like you did for Aristia?”
“Ah, yes, of course,” Ameyron said. He looked sidelong at Aristia, then turned his back on her. “It’s not my main focus, but I did study in Miphace, one of the best schools of medicine in Seirenia.” He rubbed his hands together. “I shall need a—a bottle of wine, if you have one.”
Aristia looked at Korinna for permission first, then left the room. She came back with an open bottle of wine and held it up to the mage.
Ameyron took the bottle and looked around the room with a vague expression. “Ah, here we are.” He snatched up Korinna’s glass, dumped the remaining water at the bottom back into the pitcher, and filled it with wine. He muttered a few unintelligible words while waving his hand over it, and then presented it to Korinna with a flourish. “Drink that.”
Korinna hadn’t had much experience with mages or spells before, but she thought his gesture seemed a bit haphazard. She inspected the contents of the glass, but the wine looked and smelled no different than before. She raised her eyebrows at the mage. “Are you sure this will help?”
Ameyron smiled thinly. “It’s an old wives’ remedy,” he said with a nod. “One of the first things I learned at the Academy is not to waste effort on a complicated cure when a simple one will do. Of course, if this doesn’t help, I will try something else.”
Korinna resisted the urge to throw the whole thing back in his face. He didn’t seem to understand the seriousness of the situation, but then, she wasn’t willing to tell him everything. She struggled to sit up enough to sip at the wine and thought frantically for a solution.
She had to think. There had to be a way to stop the magic. What did she know about wyld magic? Very little.
But the taste of wine on her tongue sparked a memory. Varula, god of wine--the priests claimed that he gave them power over wyld magic. If she prayed to him, could he help her?
How did she pray to the god of the wilderness? A memory of the temple, the night they had confronted the head priest and the treasonous Councilors, flashed into her mind. It looked like a forest Grove inside. Maybe plants were the key somehow. She couldn't leave her house, but there was a garden in the courtyard. She hoped it was enough.
She drained the wine from the glass, then reached for the bottle. “Help me up.”
Ameyron frowned. “Are you sure that's a good idea, your grace?”
Aristia hurried over and grabbed Korinna’s hand. She leaned down and whispered, “Do you have a plan?”
Korinna nodded silently to the girl. Hopefully, Aristia would be able to follow her lead without too much explanation.
She reached toward to the mage, and this time he took her by the other arm. Leaning on both of them, she was able to struggle to her feet. She clutched the wine bottle and nodded to the door. “I need to get out into the garden.”
Aristia left her side and hurried to unlock the door.
Korinna held onto Ameyron for support and he helped her outside.
He looked up at the sky nervously, although the walls of the house blocked out most of the view. “I don't think it's safe out here. What are you trying to do?”
Aristia followed them outside, lugging a chair across the stones. She set it down next to Korinna with a gasp. “Sorry. The couch was too heavy for me.”
Korinna looked down at the girl with a smile. “It's alright.” She'd forgotten that all of the furniture was inside, out of the rain. She eased into the chair gratefully and held out the bottle of wine. “Pour that out into the dirt.”
“Wait, that was supposed to help you relax--” Ameyron held up his hand in protest, but Aristia was already emptying the bottle over the flowers. He huffed angrily. “Well, now what? Are you going to perform your own heretical ritual in an attempt to stop the marewings?”
Korinna shrugged. “Whatever it takes. Aristia, come hold my hand.”
She came nervously back to the chair and gripped Korinna's hand. “Are you sure you'll be alright?”
Korinna smiled confidently, but on the inside, she was scared. She had no idea if this would work or what effect it could have on her and the baby, but she knew she'd waited long enough. “It's fine. Just keep doing what you've already been doing, and keep in mind what the mage said.”
Aristia nodded and closed her eyes.
Aristia III
Aristia gripped the duchess’s hand and concentrated. She could hear the marewings screaming above her, still angry and confused. But she didn't know the first thing about contacting them back, let alone getting them to listen to her. How was she supposed to get them out of the city?
She opened her eyes a crack and peered around the garden again. Ameyron was watching them both intently, his pen hovering over a blank page in his notebook. Korinna had closed her eyes in concentration and her lips moved. When Aristia tilted her normal right ear toward the duchess, she heard a soft prayer to Varula.
She jerked back, but the duchess held her hand firm. Was that really the answer? To copy the priests who had started all of this?
Korinna's eyes flashed open and focused on her. “I told you,” she said in a low voice that held a hint of warning, “just keep doing what you've already been doing.”
She stared, uncomprehending the order. The duchess had been cryptic and secretive ever since the mage had shown up, and she couldn't understand what she didn't want to say in front of him. The words must hold some hidden meaning for her, but what?
Then Aristia felt the pulsing heat of wyld magic surrounding her again. This time, it wasn’t from the marewings, but from the duchess herself. It felt like the blast of hot air when she opened the oven door. She wanted to pull her hand away but she clung to Korinna’s hand and instinctively pushed back, fighting it off of them.
Korinna squeezed Aristia’s hand reassuringly, goading her on. That must be it, she realized. She didn’t fully understand what the duchess was doing but she could amplify it with her own strength and shield Korinna from the effects of the magic.
The power grew and the heat increased. Aristia swayed a little on her feet. Korinna pulled her closer so that she could lean against her chair, and she was able to brace herself to keep standing up.
In her left ear, she heard Korinna’s voice ring out like a bell: Get out of the city!
The marewings’ angry screams started to fade from the night sky. Fear was rising in them, driven by the racket of noise in the streets and the shots ringing out from the enormous cannons, but they’d been goaded on to fight back. Now, with the duchess urging them to flee, they stopped in mid-attack and looked out into the empty darkness beyond the city walls. Aristia held her breath as she felt them hesitate.
Korinna clung to Aristia, drawing on every ounce of strength they had left. She formed the urgency into a single word: Go!
Aristia had never met any of the marewings in person, but she could recognize Sungold’s distinctive cry from the way she responded to her rider. She was turning away from the city, seeking sanctuary far from the humans.
Korinna let go of her hand and slumped down in the chair, breathing heavily. Ameyron made a startled noise and rushed over to check on her.
But Aristia kept her eyes closed and concentrated on the marewings. Some of them were turning to follow Sungold in her retreat, driven to stay with their sister by their herd mentality. As more of them noticed their fellows leaving, they began to glide away from the city, feeling alone and exposed without their support.
Then she heard another woman’s voice, chanting a ritualistic prayer. A priestess? She was trying to call up the wyld magic again, stirring th
e marewings back into action. A few of the marewings stopped their retreat and turned to the city again, anger flaring up. It was going to start all over again.
“No!” Aristia cried, not knowing if she spoke inside her head or out. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth together. “Get out!” she repeated Korinna’s earlier command, trying to copy the power she’d felt from the duchess. She threw every last bit of strength she had into the cry.
Her head swam with the effort, and she felt the darkness rushing up to meet her, but she clung on until she heard the other woman’s voice stop. Then she surrendered to oblivion and fell to the ground.
Sympaia VI
Go!
The voice echoed through Xeros’s mind, urging him to flee. The sheer strength of the magic behind that command shook him to his core. Instead of fighting it, he let go of his own spell and channeled all of the energy back into the ground below him. It threatened to sweep him away with it but he fought to maintain his grasp on sanity.
His eyes snapped open. He peered up into the darkness and saw the dim shapes of marewings fleeing the city. Already, the sounds of chaos in the surrounding area were dying down as the attacks ended. But despite the end of his plans, he smiled to himself. He’d gotten what he needed: he knew, without a doubt, that Duchess Korinna herself was the one using wyld magic against him. That dark secret was so perfect that it had to have been arranged by a divine hand. The god, Varula, must be finally on his side again.
Xeros got to his feet and dusted off his robes. “I believe a change of plans is in order. We should get back to Sympaia to tell them what we’ve learned as soon as possible.”
Hilaera answered him only with a soft moan.
He turned and looked at her for the first time. The priestess was slumped over on the ground and twitching spasmodically. He knelt by her side and shook her, trying to snap her out of it. “Hilaera, let it go,” he said sharply. “We’ve got what we needed. Let’s leave before the guards start searching for us. No doubt they suspect that someone is behind these attacks.”
Hilaera’s lips moved, but he couldn’t quite make out the words. He leaned closer and realized that she was still chanting a ritual to call up wyld monsters.
Xeros shook her again, harder. “I said stop! At this, rate, you’ll draw on too much wyld magic—”
“No!” Hilaera’s eyes suddenly opened, wide and staring, but they didn’t seem to focus on anything before her. “I will best that puny brat. She can’t tell me to leave!” Her voice grew louder and more shrill with each word, until she was shrieking loud enough to fill the whole park.
Xeros clamped his hand roughly down over her mouth. “Hush! You’ll bring them straight to us.” He pulled her up into a sitting position so he could see her face more easily. He spoke slowly so each word had time to sink in. “Listen to me carefully: we need to go.”
Hilaera squirmed against his grip and threw her head back so sharply that he almost fell on top of her. “No one tells me what to do!” she cried, arching her back. She broke free and threw her head again, dashing it into the ground. “I have the power of Varula on my side. No child shall defy me!”
Xeros shrank away from her, frightened by her sudden violence. She was babbling like a mad woman. “What are you even saying? There’s no child here. We will go regroup with our allies, and come back to defeat Duchess Korinna along with the rest.”
Hilaera erupted in a guttural scream.
The magic must have already broken her mind, he realized. He scrambled back from her, looking around for their remaining supplies, and quickly gathered everything to him. He had to make sure that he left nothing behind that could implicate him.
When he had it all, Xeros threw a final, pitying glance back at the priestess. She was writhing on the ground, still babbling about punishing some child. He didn’t know where the idea had come from, but could any madness be explained logically? It was her own fault if she tried to use too much wyld magic, since they’d all had the same warnings during training about this consequence—but he didn’t want to leave her.
He knelt by her again, but didn’t try to touch her this time. “Please, get up,” he pleaded with Hilaera. “Just come with me and I’ll help you punish this child. I promise.”
Hilaera clutched at her head and screamed again. She seemed beyond the point of even knowing that he was there.
The rattle of armor alerted him to the approach of guards or soldiers. Xeros reluctantly got to his feet and ran to the trees at the edge of the park.
He prayed that she would stay silent, but Hilaera screamed again.
“You there in the park, halt in the name of the law!” a man shouted as he came around the corner.
At least the priestess would be a distraction for him to get away. Xeros turned and fled into the darkness.
Ameyron V
The lanterns flickered like they were blown by a strong wind, then abruptly went out. In the darkness, a silence fell over the house.
When his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Ameyron checked Korinna again. Her pulse and breathing had returned to normal rates, and she seemed to be peacefully unconscious. He tentatively put a hand on her belly and felt the baby stirring gently, but there were no more contractions. He let out a sigh of relief that the crisis had passed.
He looked up and stared at the girl in disbelief. She slumped against the back of the chair and shivered as she gasped for breath, but she looked otherwise unharmed by the effort. Everything he knew about magic told him there was no way she could control two hundred marewings without any obvious spells or rituals. And yet he couldn't deny that she had told them to leave, and now he heard the sounds of fighting finally starting to fade away.
He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the aches of his body, and went to open a window and looked out over the city. Sure enough, he saw dark shapes slipping over the walls in retreat. The alarm bells fell silent and lights began to wink out again. Gray light filled the sky, signaling the oncoming dawn.
Aristia slipped up to the window beside him and let out a heavy sigh. “I think it's finally over,” she whispered. “Do you want help to find the priestess?”
He blinked, taking a moment to realize what she was referring to. “The who?”
Aristia pointed somewhere across the city. “The priestess. I can still hear her over there. You were trying to track her down when you found me, but you still need to stop her, right?”
Ameyron nodded eagerly. “Yes, it would be very important to catch her. But are you sure it's a woman? I thought you said earlier that it was a priest.”
Aristia frowned. “I thought so, but just now, I'm sure it was a woman.”
Ameyron looked back over his shoulder. “I'd like it if you could help me, but I think that I need to check on the duchess first. I hope she wasn't hurt by the last bit of magic.”
Aristia tiptoed back over to Korinna and laid a hand on her shoulder, but she didn't stir. “I think she's just sleeping. Maybe we should let her get some rest.”
Ameyron paused to consider his options. His orders were to track down whoever was responsible for the wyld magic spell, and he feared that the priestess or whoever could still find another way to make trouble if she wasn't arrested. On the other hand, he worried about leaving Korinna alone if she was still in distress.
Finally he tore a sheet of paper out of his book and scribbled a quick note. “I'll just leave a message that she should get checked out by a physician when she is sufficiently rested,” he said aloud. “Is there someone else in the household who will come and check on her?”
Aristia nodded and gestured to the back of the house. “My ma and the others will be waking up soon. Can you add that I'm going with you, and I'll be back soon as I can? So my ma doesn't worry.”
“Of course.” Ameyron added an extra line at the bottom and left the note in plain sight on the table. “Very well, then. Are you prepared to assist me in apprehending a criminal?”
Aristia held up a f
inger. “On one condition.”
He frowned, unable to guess what the whims of a young girl would dictate that could get in the way of his mission. “What is that?”
She looked at the floor and shuffled her feet. “Just please don't tell anyone it was me, if you don't have to. I don't want people looking at me like I'm some kind of freak.”
Ameyron put his hand on her shoulder and smiled reassuringly. “I shall keep your ability a secret, I promise. I know what it's like to be different and--and judged by others,” he said carefully. “But if you're willing to talk to me about it more, I'd like to understand what it is you can actually do. Would you be able to help me more in the future?”
Aristia perked up and looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “Do you really think you could figure it out? I—I want to understand it, too.”
He nodded confidently. “I think if we work together, we could make great discoveries.” He nodded to the door. “But we'll discuss that more later. For now, we have to find this person before they can hurt anyone else.”
Aristia grabbed his hand and pulled him along after her. She seemed confident in the way they were going, and although she was much shorter than him, he found himself having to stretch his legs to keep up with her quick pace. They wound their way through side streets and narrow alleys, avoiding the main streets where the soldiers were clearing up the aftermath of the attacks.
Ameyron tried to keep track of the numerous twists and turns, but he soon found himself lost. He didn’t see any part of the city that he recognized. “Where are we going? Are we almost there?”
“Yes, but you have to hurry!” Aristia tugged on his hand more insistently, yanking him sharply around a corner.
She stopped short at the entrance to a park. City guards had gathered in a clearing, and the girl seemed reluctant to approach them.
Ameyron let go of the child’s hand with a reassuring smile. “Thank you for your help. I can take it from here.”
A Pride of Gryphons Page 31
