A Shaper's Birthright

by Karen MacRae

  Ailie saw Sy and Lachlan vanish as they were enveloped by the brown. A split second later, she spotted movement on the hill. Her stone flew as the first bolt shot straight towards her. Hew knocked her to the ground, taking the bolt in his shoulder. The momentum spun him round, but he kept his feet. Ailie felt her stone penetrate solid rock over the ridge. She was gutted: she’d missed. Hew pulled her back behind the boulder just as a bolt slammed into the ground where she’d been lying. She nodded her thanks to the Dornian and calmly picked a new stone for her sling.

  Her next shot hit a dark-haired man who’d run straight at Hew and her from the Concealment. The impact was enough to break an arm and slow him, but the stone had lacked speed and accuracy so he was still closing on them.

  “Mine,” Hew grunted, stepping out to engage the man, his injured right arm hanging uselessly at his side. Ailie readied her sling and fixed her eyes on the ridge. She knew the bowman would show himself as soon as he heard fighting below the Concealment line.

  She heard metal clash and caught sight of a dark, bloodied head looking over the ridge. She felt her stone run true and connect with bone and soft tissue. The bowman was no longer a threat. She popped another stone into her sling and looked around for a new target.

  Pyteor’s dagger hit her high in the chest, grinding through her stone-reinforced leathers. She staggered under the man’s weight and momentum; her back slammed into the ground and the air left her lungs in a whoosh. She heard a triumphant voice call, “I got her! I got the girl!” but she wasn’t out of the battle yet. She fought for air and struggled up to sitting. Blood poured from the hole in her jacket. Her throwing arm wouldn’t respond. She gritted her teeth and stood up, using her left hand to pull a dagger from her belt. She took two steps towards Hew and the man he was fighting then crumpled to the ground.

  Mystrim saw the path was clear and yelled at the by-standing Pyteor to take over. He ran at full tilt towards the boulder, jumping over the girl lying in the growing pool of blood. He looked around, but there was no rucksack. He dropped his sword and began to scour through the scrub at the side of the trail. He knew it had to be here somewhere. He heard Pyteor screaming for help but ignored him. The beads were more important.

  Elona was focused entirely on the two men in front of her. Her mind was perfectly clear, her swords an extension of arms that moved in a blur. She dispassionately acknowledged that the two men worked well together, but she knew it was only a matter of time until her speed won through. She allowed herself a glance to the other fight as she heard Pyteor scream for help. She saw him run away from the guard and swore to kill the coward. But where was the mage? She caught sight of a man’s behind poking out from the greenery by the boulder and shrieked her fury at the stupidity and cowardice of men. She would have to do it all herself.

  Hew had only had to lunge at the young blonde and the boy near collapsed in fear. He dashed past him to get to the man rummaging in the scrub.

  The Concealer yelled a warning and Mystrim turned quickly, rolling away just in time to avoid Hew’s overhead blow.

  The mage snatched up his sword and got to his feet, a small leather bag in one hand. “Looking for this, King’s Guard?” he sneered, trying to buy time for Pyteor to come and help. Even with one arm, he knew the guard outmatched him in skill with a blade.

  Hew felt his heart sink and doubled his efforts to kill the spy while keeping his distance. He knew what Mystrim could do with a touch.

  Mystrim saw Pyteor hesitate and cursed the boy. “Help, you coward!” he shrieked, pushing hard to turn the guard’s back towards the Concealer. Hew’s sword sliced into the weather mage’s belly just as Pyteor plucked up the courage to stab him in the back of the leg. Hew’s knee give way and he stumbled into the mage. He saw the outstretched hand but could do nothing to avoid it. With the last of his gift’s reserves, Mystrim leeched every bit of warmth from the guard’s body.

  Lachlan knew they were beaten. He already carried wounds to his left leg and arm and was losing strength with every second that passed. Sy was brilliant with his axe, but not as brilliant as this warrior woman. There was only one way they would best her. One of them had to die and he knew he’d be of little use in bare minutes. He yelled, “Fice!” and stepped forward, driving Elona’s right arm wide. Countless hours on the training field made Sy respond to Lachlan’s cry before his mind could rebel at the move.

  Elona automatically took advantage of her enemy’s apparent lapse and buried her left-hand blade in his belly, opening herself up to a swing from that side. She realised her error just in time to sway right as Sy delivered a horizontal blow that should have cut her in two. Instead, she had both swords back in front before the Seaskian could follow through.

  She grinned at the big man, ignoring the blood seeping from the deep gash in her side. “And then there were two,” she mocked. “Not for long though, I don’t think.”

  The ferocity of her attack drove Sy backwards, blood oozing from multiple near misses. They’d almost reached the boulder when they heard thundering hooves coming down the trail. Elona scowled and pressed the Seaskian hard, determined to finish the man.

  Pyteor’s, “Elona! We’ve got them! Hurry up, we’ve got them!” was Sy’s lifeline. The Reader didn’t think twice. She feinted to the left and ducked under Sy’s rightward counter, mounting the waiting horse with a running leap. Her parting gift was a sword through the big man’s side as she ran past. Sy dropped his axe and drew a dagger. Spinning to follow her, he released the knife with the last of his strength. He collapsed to his knees, his eyes willing the blade to fly fast and true, straight towards the three spies spurring their horses to go faster. Everything vanished behind a Concealment and Sy toppled to the ground.

  Spider was by his side just seconds later. “I’ll live,” Sy told him through gritted teeth. “I can feel my gift working. Help the others.” Spider could see Beitris pressing her hands down hard on Lachlan’s horrific belly wound. Malik was over by Ailie, pulling things out of his backpack to use to stem the bleeding from a chest wound. Just beyond Malik, Spider caught sight of a pair of boots poking out from behind a huge boulder. Hew. He sprinted over and looked frantically for where the guard had been injured. The only things he could see were a bolt in Hew’s arm and a gash to the back of his leg, but the only fresh blood was on Hew’s sword. He’d not got down without making someone pay.

  Spider grabbed the guard’s shoulder and pulled him over then discovered he couldn’t remove his hands from the icy cold leather. He ripped them off and looked at Hew’s face in horror. Mystrim had frozen the guard.

  “I’m going to get Anna,” he shouted to anyone who could hear him, running towards the only horse in sight with a chest not heaving from a mad downhill gallop. He didn’t stop to worry about whether or not Anna was still alive, whether or not he could get Euan to open the Hall door to tell him where to find her or whether or not his friends would still be alive when he got back. All he knew was he had to try.

  He was cursing his gift for not warning him of the ambush sooner, cursing the need to pace his horse and cursing the slope for being so steep when he made it to the top of the hill. He forgot it all when he spotted a tiny figure about to walk through the Hall door. He urged his horse into one last surge and yelled at the top of his voice to hold the door. He rode straight inside and straight to the stable, jumped off and flung a saddle onto Euan’s snoozing horse like a man possessed. He caught sight of his sister in the entrance and screamed at her to get Anna on a damned horse.

  They were cantering out of the tunnel within a minute.

  They were too late for Lachlan. Beitris had covered him with her jacket and was sitting further down the slope with Sy. Anna could see at a glance that Ailie was in greater need, but she stopped for a second to give Sy a boost of peristone-enhanced Healing white until she could get back to him.

  Beitris felt the wound under her hand try to close and took it away in fright. Surely that was fast even for Anna?
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  “Help me up, Beitris,” Sy said. The two hobbled over to Ailie. Anna had her hands on the girl’s arm. It sounded as if she was singing, but they realised she was talking in Shaen. They shared a questioning glance, then watched as Anna did her magic. Within seconds, the redhead’s eyes were open and her hands were reaching for her weapons. Anna sang to her some more and the girl nodded, her body relaxing, realising the fight was over.

  “You saved her, Cherry,” Anna told the Mastran. “She wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t stopped the bleeding.”

  “I only wish I could have helped Lachlan,” he said sadly.

  “It was a mortal blow. I’d have had to be right here to save him.”

  The others felt a weight leave their shoulders. It was hard to lose a friend, but worse to know you’d failed him. They followed the Shaper around the boulder to Hew. She looked at the guard with a puzzled expression on her face. “Can we help, Anna?” Sy asked, not knowing how that might be possible, but wanting to do something.

  “His heart is beating so slowly it’s almost stopped, but he’s still alive. His aura’s still there. Just. I’m not sure how. I’ve never come across anything like this before.”

  “I have. Once,” said Malik. “A friend fell through ice which closed over his head. It took an age to get him out and he was frozen solid. The Healer refused to even try Healing him. Told his parents to let the boy warm up slowly and beat the water out of his lungs if his heart started again. She said he would live if the light was willing. He did.”

  “Warming, I can do,” Anna said quietly. “Let’s get Hew somewhere sheltered though. Ailie, molaith hea sambith?”

  The Shaen girl led them to a large cave just in from the nearby junction. They found five horses inside along with various bags. Clearly Mystrim and his comrades had expected to return.

  Beitris pulled a bedroll from the nearest horse and laid it down out of the salty wind for Hew. A second served as ground cover for herself and an almost-recovered Sy. The others disappeared outside.

  “I must be able to do something, Anna,” Beitris said, a stricken look on her face.

  Anna reminded herself that Beitris, Lachlan and Hew had grown up together on Dornie and signed up to the King’s Guard together. They’d been friends their whole lives. “Prayer never goes amiss, Beitris, but you could also keep an eye on his wounds. I’m worried they’ll start gushing as he warms up.”

  Beitris felt a large hand clasp hers. She looked up into Sy’s big blue eyes and smiled her thanks. The two sat side by side, their hands together, their eyes fixed on their friend’s injuries.

  Anna began by sending a mist of clean, white energy into Hew’s soft red aura to try to lighten the grey that had taken hold of it. It made little difference so she upped the power a tiny bit then a little bit more, glad to see a steady recovery of the red.

  “His leg,” cried Beitris, automatically reaching forward to press her hands on the bleed.

  Sy pulled her back as Anna began visualising the wound’s black streaming into her green crystal, forcing it to close and Heal. She was almost done when the guard’s aura began twisting out of all recognition. It was as if the freshly Healed area were trying to rip away from its still-frozen surroundings. She worked instinctively, massaging the join between the two temperatures as if she were moulding clay until, finally, they calmed. She took her hands away and sat back, her heart racing. She got herself under control then crossed her aura with Hew’s once more. His shoulder had to be Healed or he’d never use the arm again.

  Just like the leg, as soon as the last of the black flew to the green crystal, Hew’s aura fought to reject the alien, warm shoulder flesh. The greyed-out, frozen red bucked and crashed against the renewed soft red and Anna felt sure the arm would be lost. She kneaded and massaged the ugly joins as before and, after what felt like hours, the aura smoothed and the scar between the two areas paled and grew quiet.

  She had to know if the Healed wounds would stand being warmed and sent the tiniest hint of white into Hew’s aura. Chaos erupted; his aura twisting as if caught in a tornado. If the poor man had been conscious, he would have been screaming. Anna cut off the white and the twisting eased. For once, crystal energy was not the answer. She took comfort from the fact his wounds had held, but there would be no more Healing.

  Outside, Ailie had run ahead, furious with herself for getting distracted by Hew. She was desperately looking for her backpack when Malik and Spider caught up with her. “Gone!” she cried, pointing down the hill. “Beads gone!”

  It was a worried threesome who returned to the cave with Lachlan’s body. They laid the guard on the other side of the cave from Hew and covered him and Beitris’ blood-soaked jacket with a blanket. They’d left the other bodies where they’d fallen. Ailie had promised they’d be dealt with.

  “They have the beads,” Spider announced grimly.

  “More bad news,” Anna interjected into the shocked silence. “Hew will have to warm naturally. If I try to Heal him, I might kill him.”

  “How long will it take for him to recover?” Spider asked.

  “I’d guess at least a few days to warm up properly.”

  “I’ll stay with him,” offered Beitris.

  Ailie shook her head. “He save me. I stay.”

  The two women stared at each other. Beitris saw the determination in the Shaen girl’s face and reluctantly nodded her head. Hew wouldn’t approve of her taking time out from the mission to sit by his side and this girl would look after him as well as she.

  Malik had been emptying the spies’ bags. “Some better news. We know where they’re going next. There are no books in these bags and they didn’t have time to come and get them before they scarpered.”

  “Ionantis,” said Sy.

  “Surely they’d have been carrying them or just left the books on whatever ship they came on,” Spider argued.

  Sy shook his head. “No way were they carrying books on them.”

  Malik jingled a heavy bag of coins in each hand. “And there’s no way they’d have left them on the ship if they didn’t think it safe to leave their gold. No, they might have beads, but they have no idea what to do with them.” The Mastran tossed the coins in the air. “The Captain will be waiting for his gold. They got here after us, there were only small fishing boats docked in Deas and they took the hill trail from Mistress Petrie’s croft so the ship is very likely somewhere east of Deas. We could catch them before they sail.”

  “Much as I’d love to go after them, Cherry, we don’t know what route they took, they’re miles ahead of us and have that Concealer with them,” said Spider, his voice showing the frustration he felt at letting Elona and Mystrim escape. “Plus, if we go after them, we run the risk of seeing their ship sailing off with our only means of going after them in Tuath. It’d give them much too big a head start, especially with Mystrim adding to their speed. No, we’ll head for the ship and get it ready to sail as soon as the others get there.”

  “I’ll go tell Finn and the others what’s going on,” offered Beitris.

  “Not on your own you’re not,” said Sy. “I’ll come too.”

  Each man and woman knelt by Lachlan and said a fond goodbye before they left. They’d miss his daft sarcasm and ready smile, his music, his endless supply of cheering banter and his courage. Malik translated so Ailie understood every word. She would make sure Lachlan had a hero’s farewell.

  Beitris grabbed the Shaper’s hand before they separated. “Hew’ll be all right?” she asked, reluctant to abandon her friend if he might need her.

  Anna nodded. “He may lose full use of his leg, but he’ll live. Ailie will look after him. If I had to put money on it, I’d bet he was going to become the first ever King’s Guard to settle on Shae and farm sheep with his feisty, redheaded, Stone Crafter wife.”

  Beitris smiled. “Hew and Ailie?”

  Anna smiled back. “It’s already started. Leave them to it. He’s going to be fine.”

  Ma
lik stood a little back, watching Beitris grin happily then wave goodbye as she set off with Sy. “Was any of that true?”

  “Enough,” she finally answered.

  CHAPTER 32

  T he Reader saw Mystrim fall off his horse. She didn’t stop. She’d seen the weather mage’s aura fade to nothing as he’d bled out. There’d been no point trying to stop the bleeding: the wounds were too deep and they didn’t have a Healer. Mystrim had known it and hadn’t made a fuss, she’d give him that. “Get the horse,” she told Pyteor then kept on as if nothing had thudded to the dirt right beside them.

  Pyteor grabbed hold of the loose horse’s reins and stopped to stare down at Mystrim. They hadn’t exactly been friends, but surely they shouldn’t just leave him lying there?

  He looked down the trail at Elona’s receding back. She wasn’t going to stop. He looked at Mystrim, killed by a sword to the gut and a knife in the back and left to rot on a tiny nonentity of an island without any kind of recognition or farewell. It was a poor reward for years of service to the Emperor. No riches. No power. No nothing. Nonetheless, he left the mage behind him without a word of goodbye. He couldn’t stand the Reader, but better her company than none at all.

  He remembered the last time Mystrim had been stabbed in the back while running away. They’d had a Healer to save him that time though. For all his brains and smart mouth, Nijel hadn’t even achieved that. The woman had died in a ditch just outside Alscombe. Nijel had ended up dead on a hilltop in the middle of nowhere where no one even knew who he was. Pyteor allowed himself a smile. Who was the stupid one now?

  Elona slowed to rest her horse and Pyteor closed the gap. He noticed she was leaning left and keeping the reins in her right hand only. Had the invincible warrior been injured?

  “Everything all right?”

  She ignored the question. “I want to check through these bags, but first we put some miles between us and the do-gooders. We’ll head to Deas. I’m not chancing that boggy route across the flat again. There’ll be a coast road; there always is on islands. We’ll take it.”