by R. K. Thorne
But much as she did not want to lead him on, part of her wanted him to know that she’d seen him, that she’d admired him, or at least wanted him to wonder if she had. Just as she’d waited for him to rouse and ask for his clothes on that first day before giving them to him, she wanted to be near him and just once more feel the tension between them, like electricity in the air.
She dropped all attempts at hiding while cursing her foolishness. He had put his pants on now and seemed to be planning to let the rest of him dry as he walked. He started up the path.
She stepped out from behind the tree and started down the path as if she’d never been hiding. He jumped, and then so did she as if she’d just seen him.
“Mara!” he called brightly, as if nothing had happened between them. “Good morning!”
She smiled back. When they reached each other, they stopped. There was a tension in the air, strange and different, that she didn’t understand.
She had to prolong the moment, study it.
“How was the water? Cold?” she asked him.
He nodded, grinning. “But it will wake you up, all right.”
A long, almost comfortable silence ensued that neither seemed to want to break. Odd. Shouldn’t it be more awkward between them?
Finally, she said, “Did you sleep well?”
He nodded. “Feeling fully recovered?”
“Yes, thank you,” she said. “At least as much as I can this early in the morning.”
He smiled, shifting his weight. “I saw the boy we healed at the fire after you… retired,” he said, faltering for the first time. “He was just fine. Thankful. He wondered if you can heal other things. Dogs, horses…”
“Anything,” she replied, with a slight smile.
He laughed. “Anything? Is that so? I mean, really. It’s against my Code to lie to little boys, you know.”
“It’s true. At least theoretically, with enough energy. A lone creature mage would not usually have enough energy—we’d kill everything in the vicinity trying to suck up enough. So I couldn’t have healed him without you.”
Now he seemed to blush. How silly this was! After the things they’d said last night? Now they were all niceties and compliments? Why were they acting like this?
“What about maladies of the mind? You know, like a madman?”
She raised her eyebrows. He thinks he’s crazy for loving me, she thought with a smirk.
“His question, not mine.” He shrugged, grinning.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I have never tried. At home, I was a healer of animals.”
“Ah,” he said. Silence stretched on. “So there were two types of healers, then?” He seemed to speak more to end the awkwardness than to really find out anything.
“Three—human, animal, and plant. But the plant healers consider themselves gardeners.”
“Do they all use the same techniques?”
“Mostly, yes. Some systems want to heal themselves but can’t. Those you can brute force and pour energy in, and the system will do what it has been trying to do all along. Other systems, you have to coax into behaving.”
He looked thoughtful at her words. His chest was still bare. Her eyes darted from his pensive frown, across the skin of his chest, his stomach, downward, and then back again. She hoped he hadn’t noticed. Again, the silence stretched on, although slightly less awkward this time.
“Well,” she said, “the water calls. Wouldn’t want it to warm up too much, now would I?”
He smiled. “No, of course not. I’ll see you back at the camp. Do you think we will head out today?”
“Most likely. If we can find the horses.”
He nodded and turned back up the path, wheels still whirring.
She headed straight for the water. It was going to be freezing and if she thought about it too much, she’d lose her nerve. She stripped her clothes off without waiting to be sure he was gone and plunged into the water without looking back. She did not want to know if he hadn’t thought to catch a glimpse of her, and she didn’t want to meet his eyes if he had.
Back in the camp, Miara set to trying to find the horses. Last time, they had seemed relatively close and running free, so why were they still gone? They should’ve arrived by now.
She sat cross-legged outside her tent near the fire and put her hands to the earth, fingers spread wide. She could not move her mind through the earth, but she could run from tree to tree, through the roots entwined beneath her. She reached in deeper until she felt the tendrils of life beneath the soil, the tangling systems silently drawing nourishment. She whispered into the trees, sang the softest of songs to their roots, and glided her mind among them, looking for one that had word of Kres and Cora.
Not far off, an elm led her to a maple, and there they were. The horses were not far away, but they were under someone’s control. Someone was with them, riding a third horse and headed her way. She moved up the roots and into the maple’s branches and leaves. And she could sense the rider, a familiar creature—
Sorin.
They’ll wait a turning of the moon, my ass, she thought. Sorin had been sent to hurry her, and he’d probably followed the roads they’d charted together. Only, this detour the Devoted had taken them on had likely slowed him down. Well, at least he had the horses, as little help as that was. But why him? How had he manipulated his way to follow her on this mission?
She released her hold on the trees and let her mind return to her body. Too quickly, too, for the speed of the movement left her reeling for a moment. She scrambled to her feet anyway. She had to find Aven—she had to warn him—but of what? What could she tell him? Sorin was a friend—or at least not an enemy. Wasn’t he? But she just knew, somewhere in her heart, that this would not go well.
She found Aven in his tent. Not thinking, she burst in without a word, causing him to jump. She shut the flap, tied it, and turned back to him. His chest was still bare, sprinkled with water droplets from the river. The tent’s heat pressed around them, and she was suddenly keenly aware they were alone and very close to each other.
“What is it?” he said when she didn’t speak.
“Another mage is coming. To supposedly help me. To hurry me on my mission.”
Aven nodded. “What does that mean? Do you know them?”
“Yes, he checked my maps for this mission,” she said. “I’m not sure what it means. I have never worked with him like this. I’m always alone.”
“You’re afraid of his arrival,” he said matter-of-factly.
She nodded, then frowned. The implied question was why. “I can’t think of any specific reason. Perhaps it’s that this mission is almost complete. Or perhaps it’s that I don’t want to complete it. I just don’t know.” She winced and rubbed the throbbing in her shoulder absently. The pain faded quickly as she let her resistance slip from her mind. She let her thoughts go blank. This could be the last time she could talk to him without Sorin around, she realized. Was there anything she could tell him, any way to prepare him for Sorin or what was to come? “You know, I did not know you would be a mage,” she said as quickly as she could. “You must try to hide it if you can. He doesn’t need to know. No one needs to know.”
His face fell. “Mara, you know that’s not exactly my specialty.”
“You can do it,” she urged him. “I know you can. You’ve learned so much, so quickly.”
“What type of mage is he?”
“An air mage.”
“Great! He’ll know it the minute he sees me.”
“No, he won’t. He won’t be looking for it. He’s not a spy. He doesn’t remember being untrained; he has no idea what it’s like not to have control of his power. It won’t be as obvious as you think.” She wondered if what she was saying had any relation to the truth. She didn’t care; she just hoped he believed. Perhaps if he believed he could, he might stumble on a way to actually hide it.
“And—” she started but then faltered, unsure of how to say what she need
ed to. Well, imperfect was better than nothing. “We must not let on that we are anything but… kidnapper and captive. They will use it against us, I’m sure of it.”
“Are we anything other than that?” he said gently.
Her mouth fell open slightly, and she wished for a moment she could just melt into the earth. “Aven, I…”
He shook his head. “Of course. It’s fine. That is one thing I can hide, although I wish I didn’t have to.”
She struggled to regain her composure. “We—we must prepare to leave, as if we were already planning to. He has our horses. That’s how I found him, looking for them. I’m not sure how much time we have, but I would rather we looked busy.”
He nodded and reached for his shirt, pulling it over his head. She got to her knees to leave the tent, but a crazy thought occurred to her, and she hesitated.
In a week, he might be dead. Or in a day. Or she might never see him again. Sorin could sweep him away and send her back with orders to fly the rest of the way.
What if this was the last time she saw him at all?
She stopped, frozen in indecision. Should she let him continue to believe her lie? She could lean over right now, kiss him hard on the mouth, run her fingers through his hair, feel his hands reach for her, and end the lie in a moment. This was likely the last moment of unguarded freedom she would ever have, and part of her soul was dying for him to know the truth—that she really did love him. That if they’d been born in different lives, she would have kissed him with abandon, become his partner, and never looked back.
But she didn’t move. More of her wanted him to take any opportunity to run. More of her did not want him to know her torment—or any of the past, present, or future forms of it.
It took all her strength to move, to pass this opportunity by, to plunge out of this brief respite from her life and back into reality. She shifted her weight and crawled out from the tent, and—
Sorin’s boots greeted her standing just before her, an amused smile on his face.
“My, my, Miara,” he said, his voice dark. “What have you been up to?”
Chapter 12
Star Mage
Aven heard the voice outside the tent and knew the other mage had already arrived. Had he heard what she’d said? Well, it was too late, but he hoped not. He straightened himself so that it didn’t look like they’d been up to anything. When he felt at least reasonably presentable, he got to his knees and crawled out of the tent.
The mage stood before the tent, as did Mara, and they were talking in hushed tones. The man was shorter than Aven, with nearly white hair, a thin face, and frowning eyes that seemed more than a little bitter. He did not seem physically fit, more of a scholar’s figure—how did he ride those horses at all with that bony frame?—but he still cut a striking image in dark, almost black Kavanar leather. The two mages were engaged in hushed conversation.
“They couldn’t wait, eh? Told me she’d wait a turning of the moon,” Mara said, voice rough.
The man shrugged. “Since when have they had any sense? Or manners? Or kept a promise? I’m just following orders like you, love.”
Aven tried not to bristle at those words, but his shoulders tightened. Could he find an excuse to punch this scrawny bastard in the mouth? Or perhaps a well-time and well-placed elbow in the kidney as an “accident” would be more appropriate. The new mage’s eyes flicked to him for a moment for the first time. Maybe it would be harder to hide Aven’s feelings than he’d thought.
Thankfully, Mara did not react to the mage’s affectionate turn of phrase. “Yes, well, I’m glad you brought the horses, at least.” She sounded more irritated than pleased to see him. Small wins.
“How were you parted from them, might I ask?” Did the mage’s voice sound suspicious, or was Aven only imagining it?
“We were attacked by Devoted Knights, days ago. Barely made it out alive.”
The mage gave a crisp nod. His demeanor was strangely similar to Mara in some ways—confident, self-assured, down to business fast—but for some reason he seemed completely unlike her at the same time. Aven instantly did not like the man. He was hiding something, Aven was sure of it. Aven knew the way a man acted when he wanted to hide something; too many men acted that way around kings. Recognizing it was a survival trait.
Now the mage turned back to him. “Well, well, so this is him, huh? I can’t believe you pulled this off.” He looked Aven up and down from head to toe and back again. Aven returned his appraisal with a scowl, crossing his arms across his chest. He didn’t have to be in love with Mara to be annoyed with the disrespect in that comment. “I really didn’t think you could do it until I saw it with my own eyes.”
Mara glanced around uneasily. There were many ears around, and many things the wrong words could give away. Aven was sure could feel Regin somewhere watching. The old man did not miss a thing. Aven would have to make sure that Regin didn’t get too alarmed; he wasn’t sure what havoc this mage could cause, but they would probably all be gone quickly enough. And so be it. The sooner they were away from these kind folks, the better.
“Don’t attract attention,” Mara snapped. “Which direction did the Devoted take us?”
“A bit farther south than you had intended if I recall correctly, but we are about a day and a half’s ride from home. The horses are well rested. We can ride the whole way, no need to make camp.”
She frowned at him. “This is my mission, I’ll decide how long we ride.”
“If we ride the whole way, you can rub it in their faces that you didn’t even need me. Plus we’ll be home that much sooner.” His voice had a friendly and affectionate turn, but it was manipulative underneath. There was more, always more, something hidden. Perhaps there was coin in it for him? “Besides, she grows anxious. And I do not relish camping on our own in our land; too many things can happen.”
And now he knew for sure that that was where they were headed. He’d assumed so all along… but now he finally knew.
“We’ll see. I will not change my mission or jeopardize it because you have a distaste for camping.” Mara tuned to Aven. “Make ready to leave,” she said. “Pack your things.” The softness in her voice had faded. She was the same commanding woman he’d met among the falling yellow leaves, sitting naked in the forests beneath Estun. He liked that woman just as much. And it was good if that’s what this mage expected. She is better at hiding what is between us than I am, he thought.
Or perhaps there was less for her to hide?
He brushed the thought aside. “The Devoted took everything,” he replied. “There’s very little to make ready. But we must thank and say farewell to our hosts.”
Mara nodded. “Come with me. Sorin, go wait by the horses.” And now Aven had a name for the other mage as well. Sorin bowed the slightest bit and headed obediently toward the horses.
Mara’s eyes met his for a moment, vaguely apologetic.
He smiled the tiniest bit, his only way to convey forgiveness. “He’s over there,” he said, gesturing toward the fire where Regin sat, his back to them.
Regin stood as he heard them approaching and smiled his broad, old smile. Aven noticed the little boy was across the other side of the fire ring; perhaps he could say goodbye to him as well.
“It’s time for us to take our leave,” Mara said, her tone again different, regal, gracious. “Thank you so much for your hospitality. It has been a pleasure.”
“It was the least we could do. Thank you for healing Galen; it was truly a feat that cannot ever be repaid.”
The boy—Galen, apparently—perked up at his name. Aven inclined his head with a quick jerk, motioning to him to join them. Galen smiled and scampered to their sides. Aven squatted down to look him in the eye.
“I didn’t know your name was Galen.”
“Now you do,” he said wryly.
Aven grinned. “My name is Aven. It’s been an honor to meet you.” He held his hand out and shook the boy’s hand, and while he did, he
whispered, “I asked her, and she said she can heal just about anything.”
“Really?” the boy whispered back.
“Anything,” Aven replied, “although not right now because we have to leave.”
Aven stood. Galen turned to Mara and said, “Thank you, lady.”
She smiled and put a hand on his shoulder for a moment. Was there sadness in her eyes? She hated to leave this place, he thought. But he could be imagining it.
“Regin, do you need help with our tents? Can we pack them up or clean them for you?” he asked, hoping Sorin could not hear and Mara would not mind.
“No, no worries, friends. We will stay a few days longer, someone will find a night in them. No need to pack them up yet.”
They all stood for a moment, wistful, wishing it could go on a little longer. Now he fully understood the sadness Mara felt when he’d quipped that perhaps they could just hide away as chipmunks forever. Indeed, they could not.
Their fates awaited them.
Mara reached out her hand and shook Regin’s. Aven followed.
“If you ever run into us again,” Regin added, “you are always welcome in our ranks.”
“And if you are ever near Estun, stop by and say hello,” Aven added, a bit spitefully as they strode away, back to the horses. Mara glared at him a little but only mildly. Surely, she did not know if Aven was a common name in Akaria or if many people or few worked in Estun.
Of course, many did. But Aven was not a common name. He felt he owed that much to Regin, that he know some of the truth after all he’d done for them. The comment did not look lost on the old man, either; he gazed after the two mages with a new intensity, as if now he knew there was a puzzle before him and he struggled to solve it before the pieces rode away.
How could a mage slave from Kavanar and perhaps the prince of Akaria come to be traveling together at all, let alone through Regin’s neck of the woods? It was quite a mystery.
But, of course, Regin had all the information he was going to have. Aven mounted his gray mare and stroked her charcoal mane in greeting.
