by R. K. Thorne
She pretended to wander to the other side of the stables, looking for the wagons that went to and from the farm towns to buy goods. But of course, they were all gone. They would have left an hour or two before, first thing in the morning, and wouldn’t be back before lunch. She could have perhaps stowed away in the bed of one of them. But no chance now. The stables, too, were cursedly clean, with nary a bit of equine excrement for her to hide this damn thing under.
Who else went in and out of the gate? Legitimately?
She scratched her scalp absently. The shepherds came and went, although usually at the start of the day too. Serving girls took food at lunchtime out to the workers in the few fields farmed by Mage Hall, shepherds in the hills, and a few others.
Sometimes they even brought out food in their knapsacks.
Back in the stables, she searched for the spot where the stable hands relaxed. Where did they wait or take breaks? Had Miara worked here when she was not yet free? Certainly there had to be some food that wasn’t for horses around here.
She found nothing. Apparently, when they wanted to relax, they left.
She’d been there too long anyway. She headed back into the flow of people. She would just have to go straight to the source. The meal hall was on the way to the nearest gate. Serving girls would come from that way anyway.
Was she leaving? Now? Was she really doing this?
It was too late to question any of it. But if she succeeded, if the Masters could no longer make new mage slaves, that would be worth a more difficult escape for other mages in the future. Wouldn’t it? And at least their ranks would no longer be growing.
Besides, the Masters deserved this and far worse.
And Dekana had deserved far better.
She ducked inside the food hall. She glanced back at the knapsack. Faint smoke drifted up, curling into the air. Well then, she had better hurry. She doubled her pace.
Serving girls ferried bowls and baskets from back in the kitchen toward the table of lunch offerings. A hefty basket of bread sat nearby, alone and unattended, probably while its owner went to get another.
She scooped up the basket like it was her job and headed back out, chin in the air.
Everything is fine. Everything is normal. Just taking food to the farmers in the fields. This is what I do every day, of course.
Her heart was pounding. She stopped for a moment beside a bush and crammed a few loaves of bread into the knapsack. And to check if the damn thing was going to burn a hole through the bottom. It had cooled, but only slightly, so she forced another cooling spell into the metal.
She tightened the knapsack as much as she could and knotted the drawstring once, twice, three times. If someone wanted to check this thing, it was going to take them forever to undo her efforts. It had to be a pain—not worth checking.
Then she hovered there for several long minutes, looking for signs of other girls headed into the fields. She spotted a group of three strolling pleasantly and chatting, one with a basket of cakes, one with a sack, another with numerous waterskins draped over her shoulders.
Jaena fell into a casual stroll a dozen paces behind them. Sure enough, they headed for the gate and gave the gate mage a friendly, familiar nod. A pumpkin walnut cake was offered and accepted. Everything was calm, casual. Although cold, they were just out for a stroll on a brisk autumn day.
When it came Jaena’s turn, she too gave the same nod to the gate mage and pointed at her basket. He waved her off, happily munching away. Pumpkin walnut did sound good right about now. What would she do for food once she got out of here? Time for figuring that out later, and at least now she had this bread. She strolled out the gate. This is my job. Shepherds and farmers need their lunches. An important task. Nothing much to worry about except getting these breads to the fields.
And just like that she was out. She was… free.
She fought the urge to bolt. She imagined herself throwing the basket aside, bread spilling all over the road as she sprinted away. But that would just get her caught.
Instead, she marshaled all her self-control to continue behind the three girls down the road and onto a side path, turning toward the hills. Ah, good. These girls were headed for the shepherds. Nothing too close.
At the first stand of trees, Jaena slipped away, melting into the shadows and quickening her pace. She checked the sun. She needed to head east as quickly as possible, as unnoticed as possible.
May Miara forgive her for not following the plan.
Behind her in Mage Hall, a low bell rang that she had never heard before, heavy and sullen as it echoed off the hills. Someone, somewhere inside, was raising the alarm. Now they would start looking for her.
May future freed mages forgive her if the Masters never opened the doors of Mage Hall again.
Chapter 5
Hidden
Jaena hiked as casually as she could along the edge of the East-West Road toward Anonil, but gradually the bells from Mage Hall escalated from one low, sullen ring to many. She started off with the theory that normal people would be strolling down the road at this time of day, and it was best to blend in. No reason to act conspicuous. Renegade mages would flee through field and hedge and forest, like they had something to hide. She didn’t think the grain fields would hide her dark profile very well, especially those that were cut low now that the harvest had begun.
The brand poked her roughly in the back with each step as if seeking to slow her down or exact its own revenge. Not a chance, she thought. I’ll fling you into a lake where you can’t be found. I’ll bury you in the deepest canyon I can find. Something. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but as soon as I get away from this place, I’ll be burying you in the most obscure and terrible place I can think of.
As the bells in the distance increased, she began looking for somewhere off the road in case she needed a different, less obvious path. A few hundred feet ahead, a path snaked through uncut fields toward a village. The path led over a small stream—barely more than a trickle, nothing like the great rivers of her homeland. A small bridge crossed it.
What was that sound behind her? How far back were they? Were those horses—the horses of a farmer’s wagon or a Devoted Knight?
She darted off the edge of the road and raced toward the path. As she turned down the path, she heard barking in the distance. Dogs too? She groaned. But that was where the stream would come in handy. She hoped. If she could get beyond the stream and beyond the town, there should be many scents for the dogs to sort through—and many people for the Devoted to question. Perhaps that could at least slow them down. And in the town there might be something she could steal to hide herself better, or perhaps even a horse.
She ran as fast as she could, bent into an awkward crouch to keep hidden amid the waving grains. At the bridge, she dashed off the path and through the water, doing her best to leave tracks up the other bank and into the field.
In her haste, she didn’t notice the stray rock at the field’s edge until it was too late. Her foot met it sideways, bent wildly, and sent her reeling. Sharp pain twisted within her ankle and shot up her calf, and she muffled a cry. She fell, her body landing with a splat in the mud and her face narrowly missing being fully submerged in the water.
She lurched upright and tried tentatively to put pressure on her foot. Pain arced up her calf.
Damn. Change of plans, then. She looked around frantically. She had to buy herself some time.
On the far side of the stream, under the bridge, she began to work. With her magic, she burrowed a small cave under the base of the bridge, a good four feet deep and wide, and limped inside, curling up in a ball. She cast the damn pack aside after it dug into her back, then rubbed her ankle as she gradually layered the wet mud back up in a high wall all around her, leading up to the base of the bridge above. Unless they were familiar with this bridge, they wouldn’t notice the newly expanded mud column supporting the far beam.
She rubbed her ankle and shut her eyes. Would
they follow her this way? Did they know her scent?
Would this damned trick work? Let the earth please save her, just this once.
The hoofbeats came closer. She was not fully encased in the soil and could see up between the slats of the bridge planks. She’d just have to hope they didn’t think to look down.
“The hounds say this way!”
Finally she could hear not only hooves, but the huffing of horses and panting of dogs. Shouting—and then sniffing—seemed to get louder and louder.
“Er—across the bridge—”
A horse thundered over the bridge above her, bits of dust and debris raining down.
“Wait—no, the trail leads into the field. But—hrm.”
“What do those damn dogs think they’re doing, going in circles like that?”
A hideous growl sounded, barely a few feet away. Another. She didn’t want to think about what they would do if they found her. Would the dogs think to dig? Give her away?
The tips of claws clipping along the wood planks told her one was approaching. When he reached above her, he whined. Thick, black paws scratched at the floorboards. Damn it, why did these men deserve all this power, and she so little? Where were her dogs to fight these bastards off? If she ever made it to Akaria, she would never let herself be caught so helpless again.
Hmm… Come to think of it, though—was there something more she could be doing to defend herself? She had no staff, but maybe she could create something. She reached her mind out and felt her way down the wet earthiness of the stream’s edge. Couldn’t try anything too close and give away her presence.
“Nefrana’s tears, now he’s digging in the bridge pillar. Why’d you make us bring these fool creatures?”
“Shut up, they smell something. What’s your crystal say?”
What crystal? Did they have a way to detect her presence somehow? Perhaps that was how she had been detected and captured in the first place. But that was before she’d had any training. She pushed it out of her mind and tried to focus her thoughts on the experiment she’d begun to form far down the riverbank.
“Well, it’s all aflutter, but could just be a spell on the bridge makin’ it act up. Hard to say the source. But there’s no mage around here. C’mon. Let’s dig into that field. You two—ask around that town. Tell ’em to be on the lookout for a renegade mage. Should be considered very dangerous and may be killed on sight. That should make ’em quake in their boots at the thought of such nastiness creepin’ around their filthy hovels.”
“Aye.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Wait, by the gods—”
“What in the donkey’s balls is that?”
What did they see? Had it worked? She’d done her best to mound up the mud downstream in the form of a small but hopefully vicious-looking dog. Could she make it move?
The thing more slithered and slid than moved like a dog, but the earth complied with her pleas, moving itself like a living creature, splatting and splattering down the bank, away from Jaena’s hiding spot.
“Take the dogs. Get—whatever that is. Go.”
“No chance—I’m heading back!”
She finally dared to breathe as she heard the last one take off—either toward the town or her earthen effigy or away in apparent terror.
Huh. It had worked. She would have to remember that trick.
She might be nearly incapacitated, but she had eluded them for now. When night fell, she could climb out of this cave and get on her way again. Until then, she could only wait.
What else could be created from the soil? What else might such creations do? If only she’d had more time to learn the ways of combat for an earth mage. If only they hadn’t spent so much time forcing her to practice defending herself from Kae.
No matter. She was on her own now, and she’d do just fine figuring it out by herself.
“Can you also ask Enrial to send up some lunch to the small library? And clear it out of… anyone relaxing in there?”
Fayton gave him a crisp nod. “I’ll see to the Takarans, my lord.”
“What would I do without you, Fayton? I’ve kept you quite busy lately. It must have been nice to have me gone for a while.”
“At least you present a challenge at times.” Fayton’s eyes twinkled.
Aven hoped that was a compliment. “Have you seen Miara?”
“In the Proving Grounds earlier, my lord. But she’s returned to her rooms now.”
“Thank you.” Aven loped up the stairs to Miara’s rooms. What had she been doing there? The doors to her rooms stood open as he approached up the hallway. A sound caught his ears, and he stopped short.
Humming. Or… singing?
Indeed, inside her rooms, he could hear Miara’s voice but in a timbre he’d never imagined. The notes were not yet joyful and free, but they hinted at such lofty heights, flirting with abandon, but not quite reaching it.
He stood for a moment, only listening. Strange how a voice could convey so much emotion. Strange how such a simple sound could stir him so, both mind and body.
She was happy. But it was more than that, wasn’t it? She was happy here in Akaria with him. Or at the very least, because of him.
He stepped closer as quietly as he could and rounded the corner, hoping to lean on the doorframe and admire her before she noticed him. His mouth fell open at the scene.
Her room was flushed with life, quite literally. Climbing roses, their petals red as blood, snaked around the bedposts in the bedroom and climbed the walls of the sitting room toward the sky. Lush, green leaves fluttered in a drafty wind, and he wondered idly if he was the cause. Pots had appeared—were those the decorative ones from near the main gate? The plants grew as though they had lived a hundred years this way. Another pot by the bed overflowed with herbs and silver flowers. Another held an array of purple blooms he couldn’t hope to identify. The hearth was the only area not overtaken by the wild, and the fire blazed with its own joyful intensity.
She must have heard him catch his breath because she turned, faltering. “Don’t stop on my account,” he said. She blushed. He understood, he couldn’t sing in front of other people either. Or carry a note half as good as that. “Look at all this. You’ve been busy.”
She smiled. “You’re right, the mountain is stifling. Beautiful in its own way, but you did not exaggerate.”
He stepped into the room. The air was fresh with the wet smell of plants and the fragrance of flowers. “No need to explain it to me.” He strode toward her, wanting to be closer. Not as close as he might want, but… closer.
She met him halfway, and they stopped inches from each other. He lifted a hand and ran it tentatively along her cheek. Her hand slipped over his, and she leaned her face against his palm. “This place is stifling in another way too. There are so many people here. I miss… the road.” Of course, he knew she meant more than the road.
“I miss it too,” he said. “The upcoming Assembly meeting means we’ll have to leave for Panar soon. You can see the White City. Unless you already have?”
“No. You were my only mission into Akaria.” She pulled away slightly and pressed a kiss into his palm. Shivers ran through him, and it took every shred of his discipline to keep himself still and unmoving. All possible responses included things they shouldn’t yet be doing.
Camil’s soft humming from the bath chamber resumed, closer now. Miara released his hand, and Aven took a quick step back as Camil fluttered into view. She carried a basket of linens, hummed more, and utterly ignored them.
They stood awkwardly, not even successfully pretending that they had been doing something else, while Camil passed. Luckily, she paid them no mind.
Miara relaxed as the humming faded down the hallway. “Did you come to eat? Should I call her back?”
“I had… something in mind.” He smiled wryly.
She let out a bark of laughter and folded her arms across her chest. “If you had that in mind, you better have brought a chain for t
hat damn door. Or something stronger. Every time I lock it, they come back in anyway. Horses to ride us away from here could also come in handy.”
His smile broadened into a grin. “I had something in mind… for lunch.”
She snorted. “You are an eternal romantic.” He was about to insist that he was indeed an eternal romantic, but her grin had faded. “Lunch with guests?”
“I thought you and Wunik and I could look over the… map.” He left out calling it the star map at the last second, wondering if anyone could be in the hallway listening. And someone still tottered about somewhere in the bedchamber. “Maybe he can translate more of it. Then later tonight, I want to gather up as many mages as we can and figure out what to do next. But I want to get his take on the map first.”
She visibly relaxed. “That does sound like a good idea. Let’s go.” They headed out of the room and down the hall. “Do people keep pets here?” she asked as they went.
“The roses aren’t enough for you, eh?”
She smiled. “I’m just getting warmed up.”
“I’ll need you to redo my room next.”
“Perhaps we should start by you actually showing me your room.”
“Oh. Yes, indeed. Tonight, perhaps?”
“If your lordship desires it,” she said with a surprisingly seductive edge to her voice. He failed to stifle a delighted laugh. “And manages not to pass out.”
“You could be quite the courtesan if this whole thing with me falls through.”
She snorted.
“You doubt my taste?”
“I’m not… the graceful, glittering type.”
“Well, you’re my type, that’s all I know. Akarians love tough women, you know.” Her smile was broader now. That had been the right thing to say. “I’m sure you can get a cat, dog, crow, owl, snake, beetle, squirrel, perhaps a mongoose from Takar—” His list was rewarded with a giggle. “My brother Dom has a pup. Well, a full-grown dog now. We can ask him, if you like. People do keep some pets, and if they don’t, I can’t say it’s because there’s a good reason not to. Not that this is the easiest place to take a dog outside, although I suppose that might be easier for you than most.”
