The Complete Enslaved Chronicles

by R. K. Thorne

  “Maybe we should go back.”

  “We came this far… We have to…”

  Aven groped around again, trying to think of something. Maybe… a small group of them felt separate from the others, smaller, off in front of him and up the stairs. If Miara’s family was with Daes, then they could be alone or with only a few other servants. Might the larger groups be those in sleeping quarters or those hiding from the monster or ones who somehow worked in the castle?

  He thought all mage slaves had been in Mage Hall. Why were there so many here now?

  Because they’re moving them, he realized. To hide them from you.

  “Let’s try this way.” Aven started forward, and Derk offered no objection. They took a nearby staircase that looked at least somewhat stable, though a large chunk of it had been torn away by either falling roof rock or the creature’s hands. The first door he opened led to a dark hallway with just one torch burning. Had others burned out? Strange.

  They stalked carefully down it to the next door. Aven listened. Voices came from the other side, and footsteps—

  Footsteps coming their way.

  He spun away, just barely missing the door slamming into his face.

  A man stalked past, leaving the door open. Voices murmured inside, but he couldn’t distinguish any of them.

  Aven pivoted on one foot and spun round, entering the door with sword drawn.

  Derk did not follow him.

  He gritted his teeth. That smart-assed traitor. Had he come all this way just to screw Aven over when it counted? He shouldn’t be surprised. Would Thel or Tharomar find the way to this spot and follow him? They might, but it could well be too late.

  He was on his own.

  “Well, well, we meet again, star mage.”

  Daes’s voice threatened to make him shudder, but he steadied himself and leveled the point of his sword in the man’s direction. Aven took in the room as quickly as he could.

  It appeared to be an ordinary royal sitting room. A man and a girl stood to the far left, near Daes, who sat stiffly in a dark brown armchair.

  “Brown, I see? Changing up the color palette a bit?”

  A hint of a sardonic smile curled Daes’s lips. “It was the closest to black they had.”

  In the far right corner of the room, King Demikin gaped out the window, a guard on one side and a woman in a red velvet gown on the other, her hand on his back. At Aven’s voice he turned, his eyes wide.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “Are you responsible for this?”

  Aven did his best to look incredulous. “Do I look like an earth mage? It seems you’ve mightily pissed one off, though, I must admit.”

  “What do you want?” Daes demanded.

  “Miara’s family,” Aven shot back.

  “Not going to happen.”

  A flicker of awareness caught in the eyes of the man and girl now. And was that hope? Or greater despair? They hadn’t realized this mess was about them.

  “Where is Miara?” Aven demanded.

  Daes tilted his head and looked mightily amused. He didn’t know. Wherever Miara was, Daes had heard nothing of it.

  And maybe had had nothing to do with it.

  Although those dead bodies hadn’t just shown up in Miara’s rooms on their own. At least… he didn’t think so. Daes had probably had something to do with that.

  “You don’t know? That’s… Why, how entertaining. Demikin, Marielle, we’re getting quite the show with dinner thanks to these Akarians.” He said the last word with notable disgust.

  “Let them go, or I’ll run you through,” Aven demanded.

  Daes’s gaze flicked to Miara’s family. “Defend me from this lout,” Daes said to the man. Face twisting, Miara’s father moved between Aven and Daes.

  Damn. He hadn’t counted on that. Now what was he going to do? He shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to think. The older man didn’t look like much of a fighter, and Aven could probably subdue him without any permanent injury, but that would be a chance for the others in the room to get the drop on him. He couldn’t take them all at once, most likely. He had thought he’d have a companion. He pulled a dagger at his belt.

  “The king. I’ll kill the king if you don’t let them go.”

  Leaning around Miara’s father, Daes raised an amused eyebrow and smiled. “Oh, please do. Go ahead. That was my plan tonight anyway.”

  For the first time, Aven realized that the guard was not protecting the king, but restraining him. Oh, by the gods. What plan was afoot here?

  “You’re outmaneuvered, boy. Where is my brand?”

  Now it was Aven’s turn to smirk, although of course he wasn’t going to tell Daes anything of the sort. Aven needed a plan. Perhaps if he could keep Daes talking, he’d have time to think of something. “What brand? You’ve lost something, I take it?”

  “Oh, you know what brand. Come clean, and perhaps I’ll only sear you to medium instead of well done this time. We will find it, you know.”

  Could Aven free them while they talked? That seemed highly unlikely, he doubted he could keep up a conversation at the same time, but what if he could? No, he’d pass out at the end by himself. It was just too much.

  He wasn’t even keeping up the conversation very well now as he struggled to think.

  “You won’t find it, because it’s been destroyed.” There. That should give him some heart palpitations.

  And indeed, Daes’s face turned an even paler shade of pallid. “You’re bluffing. It can’t be.”

  Was the girl commanded to defend Daes too? He could probably club Miara’s father over the head and get his forgiveness in the long run, but Aven wasn’t sure he could render a young girl unconscious and forgive himself for it. But perhaps if he had no other choice.

  Aven stepped to one side, closer to the king and skirting around Miara’s father and Daes.

  “It has already been destroyed,” he said as coolly as he could muster. “You’ll have to get your power from actually leading people instead of enslaving them.”

  That seemed to get under the bastard’s skin, and Aven felt a bit smug. Not so fast with the back pats, though. He still had no idea how they were going to get out of this mess.

  The grinding, rumbling sounds outside intensified.

  “Well, your lies don’t matter anyway,” Daes scoffed. “We’re making a new one.”

  No. No—they couldn’t know how. Could they? Perhaps they had their own forbidden knowledge, tucked away for this very emergency. No. Damn it, he hoped it wasn’t true.

  “Now you’re bluffing,” Aven said, voice as flat as he could muster. “You don’t know how.”

  “It’s already in production.” Daes waved him off like a gnat bothering his wine.

  He had to be bluffing. But—

  The grinding sound grew deafeningly loud, and Aven took a reflexive step back.

  The outer wall of the room crumbled away, white granite fingers crushing the stone. The king, who had been leaning against the wall up until the last moment, tumbled out of sight with a surprised cry and fell. The red-dressed woman—the queen?—started to lose her balance, teetered on the edge, but then caught herself on the edge of a jagged granite slab.

  Aven acted quickly, using the disruption to lunge at Miara’s father and, with an inward wince, clubbed him in the head with the hilt of his sword. The girl rushed toward her father as he fell, and so did Aven.

  Daes, interestingly, rushed to help the woman.

  As Aven bent down, he heard a telltale swish over his head. A knife thrown.

  Aven ducked but realized quickly the knife hadn’t been for him. It’d been aimed at Daes, but the bastard had moved aside at the last moment to get a grip on the woman’s arm. The weapon did find a home in the guard’s chest, however, while he attempted to back away from the chasm. He, too, tumbled over the edge.

  Derk swept into the room beside him, grabbed the girl’s arm, and started dragging her from the room. She wince
d in pain, clutching her shoulder, compelled to try to stay, but fortunately, Derk ignored it.

  His eyes caught with Aven’s. “Are you coming?”

  Hmm. Maybe not such a traitor after all. Still smart-assed, though. Aven bent quickly, not bothering to answer, and heaved Miara’s father over his shoulder, racing back out the hallway, down the stairs, toward where the others waited.

  “Where the hell were you?” Aven snapped as they ran.

  “Covering your ass from the hallway. We both run in there, and we’ve played all our cards. And how hard would it be for them to surround us and turn us both into rat meat? Not hard. No, thank you.”

  As Aven approached the willow, he was glad he’d sent Thel and Tharomar back. The two of them fought with four oncoming but fairly incompetent guards. Thel fought off two with his short sword and Tharomar the other two with a—was that a table leg?

  Father would be pleased to see Thel’s lessons actually being put to some use. Aven’s gut twisted at the thought of his father, but he pushed himself faster. His father would also be damn proud if they got out alive.

  They had to keep going. And finish this.

  Derk handed the girl off to Siliana, who wrapped her arms around the child’s struggling form. Would they need to free her before they left? Would it even be safe to fly with her being compelled to return like that?

  Aven dumped Miara’s father next to Siliana too, who looked at him with wide eyes. “He was compelled to defend them, had to do it. Can you fly with her like that?” He drew his sword and lunged to join Tharomar.

  “I—I think so.”

  “Can you transform her now then?”

  “Yes. I’ll do it. Both of them.”

  Aven took a careful grip of his blade, twisted it, and half-sworded the man in the head, the hilt of the sword hitting the man’s skull with far more force than he’d used on Miara’s father. The guard fell, at the very least dizzy.

  Tharomar sent his man reeling into the pond as Thel and Derk dispatched their attackers as well.

  “I’ve got them—let’s go! Who’s next?”

  Jaena still sat, eyes closed in concentration, by the tree. Tharomar rushed to her now, falling to his knees and looking like he wanted to—what? Hug her? Kiss her? Shake her awake? He settled for just staring.

  “Jaena last,” Aven barked. “She’s holding up our distraction. Thel, Derk, go.”

  But Derk had his eyes closed too. “I’m working up some cover. The smith, then me.”

  “Fine, just go, go, go.”

  The men all crowded around Siliana and Jaena. Aven searched the ruins of the palace. Where was Daes? The gash in the room they’d fled lay empty. Aven glanced down and saw Derk’s distraction. Fog rose slowly up around them. Through the growing mist, the king’s body was just visible. He had fallen two stories and lay crumpled, half across rubble, half submerged in a fountain.

  By the gods. Demikin was dead.

  It hadn’t even been that far of a fall. Could Daes have had some other plan afoot? Could he have had him drugged? How could he have separated the king from his guards anyway? The woman. The queen. She must have been in on it too.

  Would they blame Aven? Akaria? A giant marble creature that had risen out of the mist to wreak havoc on everyone?

  Earth mages were supposed to be the weaker ones. By the gods.

  Derk signaled he was ready, and his form twisted away beside Aven. The rising fog concealed them fairly well. Aven scanned the area, and his eyes caught on Daes.

  The Dark Master and a dozen guards stood at the corner of the palace walls, searching around them for Aven and Derk’s tracks. Aven crouched down, but it felt too late. He swore he could feel the Dark Master’s eyes boring into him even then.

  Siliana met his eyes.

  “Guards,” he whispered. “A dozen. Get Jaena first.”

  “My lord, you have to go. You cannot risk being left behind.”

  “There’s time. Go—both of us.”

  Siliana lunged toward Jaena, shaking her arm. Her dark eyes snapped open in surprise.

  The creature collapsed, thundering to the ground with an earth-shaking boom. They all winced, ducking their heads. Damn, they had known it was coming, why were they wasting time reacting?

  “Go, damn it,” he urged them.

  How far away could the guards be? Siliana’s face looked white, but Jaena twisted and joined the others in the box.

  “Get more energy—go. You can’t risk running out now.”

  She nodded, eyes looking a little frantic that she’d needed the reminder, but that was the last thing he saw. His body twisted again, and this time the nausea was intense. Well, that answered that question.

  He looked down at tiny hands and soft brown fur as she lifted him into the box.

  Now he just had to pray their enemy had no arrows and that Siliana completed her own transformation before Daes arrived.

  Or they’d all be served up to the Dark Master in a tidy little box, convenient for the squishing. At least Miara wasn’t with them for the squishing ceremony.

  But if the Masters hadn’t recaptured her… where the hell was she?

  The flight back to Panar seemed unending. The shift had nauseated Jaena, and her work had exhausted her, and the swaying of the tiny box in the darkness did not help any of that.

  But they had freed Tharomar. Just that thought made relief and contentment swell in her small rodent chest. The discomfort of the ride was not important by comparison.

  Siliana alighted on the balcony of the castle, gradually transforming them all back with greater control this time. Or perhaps she was going more slowly because she was afraid. Those had been great feats for one lone creature mage. If only Miara had been there to help.

  Jaena didn’t immediately find the energy to get up after the shift was complete. She sat and simply waited, watching them each reappear. She noticed one chipmunk had a stripe of white fur on its head and smiled.

  Indeed, that creature transformed back into Tharomar, and she beamed at him. She couldn’t help herself.

  “By the gods—Jaena!” He ran to her, then crouched and threw his arms around her. “Was this your idea?”

  “Partly. Partly Aven’s.”

  “Did you—what happened? I have so many questions.” He stood, then held out a hand and helped her to her feet.

  “I’m honestly exhausted, Tharomar—”

  “That was amazing. It was like with the mud, but by the—”

  She lurched to one side. “I think I need to lie down.”

  He jumped to her side and threw her arm over his shoulder. “Do you have a room here? Cause I sure don’t. This time.” He grinned.

  “If it’s all right with everyone, I think we’ll take our leave to rest?” Jaena said.

  Wunik was just rushing out onto the balcony. “Is this the smith, the priest?”

  Tharomar winced. “Just a smith.”

  She snorted. “Hmm, is that so. We can talk in the morning, right, Wunik?”

  “Oh, yes, of course.”

  “Go and rest,” King Aven added. “The Assembly may vote first thing in the morning, so we may need to rise in only a few hours. Or the vote may be later. We’ll see.”

  “That way,” Jaena pointed with an elbow, as one hand was around Ro’s waist and the other clasped his hand on her shoulder for support. And… maybe for more than support.

  It felt funny not limping this time, although she did indeed feel very weak. They left the king’s chambers—she was still having a hard time processing that her mage savior was also their king—and headed down the hallway toward the room they’d given her.

  “You knew, didn’t you?” Tharomar said softly.

  “Knew what?” she said.

  “You know what.” He narrowed his eyes at her, and she winced. “That I’m a mage,” he said.

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he said.

  “Why didn’t your temple tell yo
u?” she countered.

  “A good question. My, you are good at dodging questions with questions.”

  “I was going to tell you. And I was going to answer you. I just don’t always answer you promptly, that’s all. I thought there would be time—and then we ran out of it. And I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”

  “I’m not sure how I’m reacting either.” He laughed.

  “Oh?”

  “A week ago the answer would have been simple. Even if I knew I was a mage, I would have thought the answer easy: abstain. Now…” He drifted off.

  “Not so sure?” she said.

  “Well, it’s hard to recommend such an approach with the group of you saving my ass from slave labor, likely torture, and probably eventual death, using not much more than magic.”

  “Doesn’t feel so evil now, does it?”

  “Well, it doesn’t feel against the Way. I mean, what was the alternative? Kill them all?” He threw up his one free hand.

  “Probably. Well, yes,” she said.

  “That would not have been better.”

  “I suppose we could have tried to capture and tie up everyone. But that sounds like a recipe for disaster. Well, there’s time to think on it later.”

  “Yeah. I mean, I can’t do any magic yet anyway,” he said, sounding a little relieved at that idea.

  “Oh, you were already doing it. That’s how I knew,” she said.

  His eyebrows shot up.

  “The smithy was full of it. You’re lucky you had all those pendants. Where did it go, anyway? Is that how the Devoted figured you out?”

  “Yes. Lost the pendant. Well, a knight ripped it off my neck.”

  “Gods. I worried something like that might happen.”

  “Well, now I know, and I got out. So that’s a good first step. But I will need to reach out to my order in the morning, tell them the Devoted know of the necklaces.”

  “And why were they harboring you as a mage without telling you?” she asked. “Do you think they knew? Or maybe they didn’t? But then why would they give you that type of necklace?”

  He frowned. “Indeed. Why would they give all of us those necklaces?”

  “Oh, here, this room,” she directed. He opened the door, and they made their way inside. The small guest room contained little more than a bed, a small hearth, and one table. No chairs. “Perhaps it doesn’t matter. But we’re not out of here yet. We couldn’t have gotten here without Aven’s help. We have to help him get those he was looking for too.”