“I may not have your oh-so-superior Mage abilities, but if there was anything out there besides deer and a few titis, I’d know it.”
“Pira, I wasn’t saying—”
“Go back to sleep, Leão. You’ve got last watch.” She readjusted her position in the tree, drawing her feet up onto the branch and away from him.
Leão returned to his bedroll without another word.
Chapter 90
Rafi
“Don’t ever let her touch you.”
The words were spoken in a rushed whisper over the top of Rafi’s head. He looked up to find Lucas standing beside Nudger, the servant’s collar the only bit of brightness in the predawn light.
“What did you say?” Rafi asked as he straightened from tightening his horse’s girth.
Lucas toed the saddlebags by Nudger’s side. “Would you like me to secure this for you, my lord?”
Vibora’s servant never offered to help, not with setting up camp, or cooking meals, or collecting firewood. Lucas kept to himself, barely speaking to the other men and sleeping every moment he wasn’t in the saddle.
“No, thank you.” Rafi hefted the bag. Even though it was wrapped in his cloak, he could feel the sharp edges of the metal box inside. He wasn’t sure what else it had in it, but he had no intention of letting it out of his sight. The letter was too important to put back, so he kept it tucked in his vest’s inner pocket. “I can manage on my own.”
Lucas stood for a moment more, studying the ground, before Vibora called him to her side.
Something about the way Lucas moved reminded Rafi of a kicked dog, or maybe it was a dog that expected to get kicked. Vibora whispered a few words to her servant, and if it was possible, the man’s shoulders seemed to slump farther. She lifted his face with her fingers, forcing Lucas to make eye contact.
It was an odd interaction—actually there were a lot of odd things about Vibora, Rafi realized. Her skills as a tracker, her control over the servants, the respect Inimigo gave her, and of course Maribelle’s fear.
Rafi shook his head, recalling Maribelle’s words as they picked raspberries. Vibora couldn’t possibly command magic. That was ridiculous. All the stories said magic had disappeared when the Keepers crossed Donovan’s Wall, if it had ever existed in the first place. The perfect weather, abundant crops, and miraculous recoveries had all seemed a bit far-fetched.
Miraculous recoveries.
Was it possible to heal the horses to return their energy? To keep them running all day without tiring?
Vibora leaped into her saddle.
“Are you ready to ride, Lord Rafi?” she asked, eyeing him askance. “Are you feeling all right?” She reached for the pouch at her waist. “I do have some gentle restoratives. They aren’t as powerful as what I give the horses—”
“No.” His tone was sharp enough to draw her attention. “I’m fine and will be better once we find Johanna.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Rafi followed Snout out of the clearing, wishing Vibora rode at the front of the group.
Never turn your back to a viper, his father had once cautioned, as he pinned down the head of a black-and-red-banded himeralli. That’s an invitation to strike.
Rafi would have taken a pit full of the vipers with their bright stripes and flesh-melting bites over one Vibora, whose true danger was unknown.
If she could wield magic, Rafi didn’t want to present her with any opportunity to attack.
Chapter 91
Jacaré
With a village ahead and provisions to replenish, the crew had to slow their pace or risk drawing attention from any travelers who might venture down the wooded road.
The delay, and Johanna’s constant prodding, irritated Jacaré to no end.
“I need to send a letter. A note. A messenger pigeon. Anything,” she said as she rode the big black horse beside him. “They need to know that I’m safe and that I’ll be coming back soon.”
He shifted in his saddle, but it didn’t ease his guilty conscience. He’d promised Johanna that she could return to Santiago as soon as possible. “Possible” was a broad term, and in this case it meant “someday.” Maybe.
“My little brother thinks he’s alone in the world. Michael needs to know that at least one member of his family survived.”
“We cannot send a letter,” he said, trying to keep his tone level. His eyes searched the roadside, looking through the browning leaves for any hint of danger. “No one can know where you are or where you’re going, at least for now. We can’t give away our position.”
“Please, Jacaré—”
Her words cut off when a dozen deer burst across the road, dodging around the horses, eyes frantic as they darted into the woods.
“What was that?” Johanna asked, her head swiveling as she watched the animals disappear. “What would make an entire herd bolt?”
“A predator.” Jacaré whistled, hoping it would carry to Leão, who was scouting the trail ahead. “Johanna, get behind me. Tex take point. Pira—”
The hair along Jacaré’s arms stood on end, the sensation reviving long-dead memories. Reacting instinctively he reached for his essência an instant before Tex’s horse dissolved under him in a column of flame.
“Ambush!” Jacaré created a shield of air that stretched across the trail. It shimmered and almost collapsed under the impact of another fireball. “Pira, take Johanna and ride into . . .”
Arrow points punctured his barrier, seeming to hang in a glistening curtain. They’ve divided us from our most powerful crew member, Jacaré realized as men stepped onto the trail, crossbows cocked. Leão’s either too far away or he’s—
A round of bolts smashed into the shield and the edges faded. He wouldn’t be able to hold it for long.
“Ride back to Santiago!”
Johanna put her heels to her horse and wheeled south. Pira hesitated, her mount dancing.
“Go, Pira!” The strain of holding the defense made his voice break. “Protect the princess.”
She looked up the trail for one breath, then turned and plunged after Johanna.
Jacaré’s shield took one more blast of fire, then evaporated like dew under sunlight. With weak, trembling arms, he freed his sword from its sheath.
Five men. All carrying weapons and all wearing collars. He could ride away and be shot in the back by fire or arrows or . . .
He spurred his horse and the animal reared, its hooves providing a distraction while he slipped from its back. Rolling as he fell, Jacaré stopped on his knees in front of the closest man. One slice and the man dropped to the ground, bleeding from thigh-high wounds.
Four.
The sword’s arc continued across Jacaré’s body to stop a downward strike. The impact jarred his shoulder but saved his head. It was an awkward position, one he wouldn’t be able to maintain for long. Using the last trickle of his essência, he sent a focused channel of air into his attacker’s throat, crushing the man’s windpipe.
Three.
The remaining men eyed each other nervously. “He’s like them,” one said as he raised a hatchet into a defensive position.
“Like who?” Jacaré used his sword to lever himself to his feet, expecting to be incinerated by a Keeper waiting in the trees. It had been a common tactic during the war, using humans to tire out an opposing Mage, then blasting away their remaining defenses with a magical barrage.
The men lurched into motion, as if their bodies weren’t wholly under their own control, and Jacaré raised his shaky blade.
Chapter 92
Leão
Leão doubled back the instant he heard Jacaré’s whistle, knowing that something was amiss. He urged his animal to gallop, and it did for ten body lengths before smashing headfirst into an invisible wall.
Its neck broke on impact, twisting far to one sid
e and throwing Leão into the barrier. His right arm bore the brunt of the collision, crumpling under the force.
He felt the bones shatter, he heard the ominous crack, but the pain didn’t register. For a moment his mind was perfectly clear; every sensation, every detail slipped into acute sharpness. Pine needles fell from a tree, spinning in the air before coming to rest on his cheek. Their smell sharp and pungent. A few poked through his shirt, jabbing him in the back.
The essência of another Mage, powerful and unfamiliar, was impossible to ignore now, as were the fainter sensations of other people nearby.
The deer, he realized. All the deer around our camp last night were masking the Keeper’s presence.
Then the pain hit.
Leão groaned, keeping his teeth clenched shut to stop himself from screaming. He tried to find his essência, but it slipped away.
“Relax,” he said aloud. “Ignore the pain.”
Something shrieked in the distance. Smoke filled the air. Jacaré’s voice filtered through the woods, but Leão couldn’t make out the words.
With a deep breath he tried again. The power to mend his arm was there, just out of reach, but pain blocked his access to it.
“Come on.”
There was a twang of crossbow bolts. The sky south of him flashed orange.
Fireball.
He forced himself to sit up as images of his crew, burned, bloody, and dying, raced across his mind. They’d all try to protect Johanna, with Pira as the last line of defense. Her blue eyes would narrow with concentration. She’d use every skill, all her power, and it wouldn’t be enough.
“No.” Leão smashed his uninjured fist against the dirt.
She’d disappear in a flash of flame, nothing but blackened bones remaining.
“No.” The earth crumpled as he punched it again.
Johanna would be killed, and their mission would fail.
“No!” The next blow exploded before his fist met the ground, shaking the trees around him. The trail buckled, rolling away from the force of his raw, unfiltered essência. The energy forced his bones into alignment, replacing one pain with another.
Under his freshly repaired hand, the transparent wall felt as solid as granite. It shattered under Leão’s touch.
He rushed past his horse’s corpse, toward the screams and smoke.
I’m coming, he thought. And someone’s going to die.
Chapter 93
Johanna
“How far have we come?” Johanna slid off Breaker’s back and knelt next to the stream. The horse drank greedily as she filled her canteen.
“Not far enough.” Pira cupped water and poured it over her head, letting it drip down her shirt. “You better hope your friends are actually following us. I can’t stand against power like that alone.”
Who could?
The stream of fire had been so bright that it marred Johanna’s vision for hours. She wasn’t certain anyone could survive such intense heat.
And now what?
Johanna was exhausted; the horses were heaving. They’d ridden so far, but their mounts couldn’t take any more punishment, and Pira said she wasn’t capable of healing more than a few scratches. They couldn’t cover any ground until the animals recovered naturally.
Worse, Johanna doubted they’d make it to Santiago without something awful following her into the state.
“We could cross the marsh,” Pira said, but her eyes were distant, focused inward.
“That will slow the horses down. We’ll spend more time hauling them out than moving forward.” Johanna had traveled all over Santarem and knew exactly how dangerous the marshes could be. Her troupe once spent an entire day strengthening a bridge so that the wagons could cross without sinking.
“You’ve never crossed a marsh with a Keeper like me.” Pira’s face broke into a crazed sort of smile. “With any hope, whoever is following us hasn’t either.”
The road had been built to circumvent the marsh completely, and Johanna couldn’t see any way to cross without sinking into the murky black sludge that hugged the roots of mangrove trees. Patches of grass looked like stable territory, but most wouldn’t hold Johanna’s weight and would swallow Breaker in a matter of heartbeats.
And if the stagnant water wasn’t bad enough, the creatures inhabiting it certainly would be. Black caimans were notoriously hazardous to people who tried to fish the marshes. The giant reptiles would wait for the perfect moment before lunging out of the water and crushing their prey with crocodilian jaws.
Johanna shuddered. “This is a very bad idea. We could be bitten or poisoned or drown in this mess—”
“We die if we get caught.” Pira waded into the murk. “We might die this way too, but I’ll choose ‘might die’ over ‘will die.’ ”
Johanna watched as Pira carefully threaded her way through the trees and over a weed-covered landmass. She never sank deeper than her ankles, and despite her horse’s rolling eyes, it didn’t disappear into a sink hole.
Pira’s path wasn’t straight, but she moved forward with purpose. “You coming?” she shouted over her shoulder.
“Won’t someone just follow our tracks?”
“There are no tracks in this mess.” There was a challenge in Pira’s tone, and while Johanna hated to admit it, she saw no other option.
* * *
For hours they moved forward at a steady pace. “How are you doing this?” Johanna finally asked. “Is this a special Keeper power?”
Pira snorted. “You could say that.”
“So what makes this possible?” Johanna couldn’t figure out how Pira chose where to put her feet. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the path she picked.
“I can sense metal, where it is, and how much there might be.” Pira moved like she could see a road that was invisible to Johanna. “I only take a step where the concentration is the heaviest, because I know there is something under the water besides more water or weeds or roots.”
Twice as they crossed the marsh, Pira couldn’t find a spot dense enough to support their weight so they had to back up. The delays made Johanna’s teeth chatter with fear, knowing every second brought an unnamed enemy closer. And yet, they eventually emerged from the marsh—filthy, bug bitten, and exhausted—but otherwise unharmed. The animals and snakes kept their distance, sticking to the banks, and absorbing the sunshine. All unfazed by two women moving through their territory.
More importantly, they’d managed to cut a day’s ride in half.
“Are we far enough ahead now?” Johanna asked as she cleaned mud out of Breaker’s hooves. Even with the lead they’d managed, they couldn’t risk a lame horse slowing them down.
Pira grabbed a handful of weeds and did the same thing for her horse. “I doubt it.”
Chapter 94
Jacaré
Jacaré knelt among the dead, leaning against his sword to stay upright. He was responsible for four of the bodies. The fifth, lying a little farther from the rest with a loaded crossbow at its side, had been Leão’s doing.
The younger Keeper had saved Jacaré’s life, slaying the bowman with a bolt of lightning before disappearing into the woods to hunt the Mage.
“Anything?” Jacaré asked as Leão returned to the trail. “Any sign of them?”
“No. After the fire and the wall, he may not have had enough essência left. But Jacaré . . .” He paused and ran a thumb over his eyebrow. It left an ash mark on his forehead. “I found Tex.”
“Oh.”
Dying in one blast from some unknown Mage? Jacaré shook his head, cursing the cruelty of Mother Lua. Tex had lived through so much. I should have left him in Olinda, given him the chance to die in his bed. Not that Tex would have appreciated that.
The sudden loss was a knife keenly edged. Tex’s death cut deep, tearing a thread from the tapestry of Ja
caré’s life. He’d been one of the only people alive who understood Jacaré, who remembered what life had been like before.
Unless this enemy is an old one . . .
Using his sword like a crutch, Jacaré pushed himself to standing. “Lead me to Tex,” he said, fighting off waves of dizziness and emotion. “We’ll take care of his body.”
“And then?” Leão asked, his voice soft in the failing light.
“And then we finish this.”
Chapter 95
Rafi
Every night Vibora disappeared into the woods to collect the materials she needed for fresh “medicine” for the horses. Her servant, Lucas, stumbled along a few steps behind her.
What a fool I’ve been, Rafi thought as he listened for her step to fade away. I didn’t even ask what she was giving the horses because I was so grateful that it worked. Why was it so easy to trust her?
Snout knelt over the fire, boiling water for their evening meal. His two guardsmen gathered wood at the camp’s perimeter. Rafi waited till he was sure they were out of earshot to begin.
“Snout, I think Vibora is working some sort of magic.” The words sounded insane as soon as they left his mouth. “I don’t know how it’s possible—”
“I think she’s taking energy from Lucas and using it to fuel the horses,” Snout said. “Every time she goes off into the woods with him, he comes back looking like he’s one step closer to the grave. Minutes later, the horses are stomping and twitching like they’ve been penned up for days.”
“Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“I was trying to work out a plan before I mentioned my suspicions.” The tracker shrugged. “I don’t know anything about witches, but I know she’s not a good person.”
“What is she capable of?”
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