by Beam, Brian
“I highly doubt my father would allow this kind of treatment,” I retorted. “When he finds out how you’ve treated me . . .” Truthfully, I knew my father wouldn’t care, but I hoped that Boakler didn’t know that.
“You will be lucky if he will even see you when we arrive. He has matters that are much more important than an incompetent, selfish daughter ruining his good name. You do not even know a thing about what is happening, do you?” Boakler accused.
No, I didn’t. I just glared at him, though, letting my pride prevent me from asking.
“I thought not,” he sneered. “We may be going to war, and you are out embarrassing yourself as well as the Grand Wizard. Because of you, four capable wizards are stuck having to drag a selfish brat home instead of being there to help.” His eyes lit with anger. His left hand twitched as if about to reach into his satchel where he kept a ferret for magic energy.
My pride disappeared quicker than fog in the sun. Inside, I felt like cowering, but I kept my back straight and my eyes locked on his. “War? There was no talk of wizards going to war when I left.” My throat didn’t want to release the words. Wizards have played no part in any war since the Power Wars a thousand years ago.
“Someone in Gualain is supposedly using magic to build an army,” Boakler explained disdainfully. “And you just leave without a word, pressing another needless worry on the Grand Wizard.”
My captors have proof—in the form of a dragon child—that the barrier imprisoning the dragons in the Snowy Waste has been breached. No matter my claims, they act as if the issue is of no concern, but I’m positive that one of them traveled ahead to a wizard guild to send word to the Academy about it. I’m surprised my father didn’t send them with a Communication Stone so they could’ve done so directly.
The point is that my leaving the Academy was anything but needless. I held my tongue, though; I gave up that argument days ago.
Boakler continued snidely, “The Grand Wizard has sent a team of wizards to verify the truth of the situation. Pending their report, if there really is magic involved, we will be going to war.” With that, he shoved me towards the carriage.
My heart quivered. I couldn’t help but dwell on what Max had told me about Raijom being involved with Gualain’s war, and how Korin planned to go to there to stop to the wizard trying to kill him . . . to kill us. I thought about how I’d left the Academy just a matter of months ago. How had this come about in such a short time? A million questions and worries swirled and collided in my mind, but all I could ask was, “What does this have to do with me?”
“All I know is that the Grand Wizard wants you back yesterday,” he replied with a sneer, jerking me forward again. “As I told you before, he has need for you.” Boakler opened the carriage door, giving me a victorious smirk. I wanted to smack it off his face.
Seeing that I wouldn’t get any more information out of the Utrien-blooded man, I allowed myself to be pushed into the carriage. “Max, are you okay?” I shouted, trying to at least get a sign that Max was alive.
I heard furious scratching from beneath the carriage. I let out a relieved breath. Max was all right. Or, alive at least. The door slammed and latched behind me. On one of the carriage seats sat my evening meal wrapped in cloth, an earthenware cup of water next to it. A few moments later, the carriage lurched forward as we started on our way north towards the Academy.
~~~~
So, that’s why I find myself devoid of hope. There’s no way that I can simply leave the Academy when wizards may be joining a war for the first time in a thousand years. Now I worry about what “big plans” my father has for me. Will I play a part in the war? Will I be sent out to recruit wizards outside of Tahron? Or will I just be locked away and forbidden to leave until the whole thing blows over?
Now that I no longer plan to openly defy my father, I’ve decided to focus solely on freeing Max. Max has to be informed on what is happening in Gualain, and he has to be able to get that information to Korin. While my heart tells me that Korin is coming after us, what if he decides to make his way to Gualain instead?
If my father is considering sending wizards to intervene in Gualain, then things must be bad enough there that Korin would simply be walking into his death. Given how much time has passed, if Korin has chosen to move on to Gualain, I may be too late. I’d feel much better about his safety if Max were with him.
Sometimes I think Max could put my father’s power to shame. There’s so much more to that squirrel than he lets on. I wish I could dig out even a fraction of his secrets. With all the methods of magic that have been lost over the last thousand years, Max could help . . .
There I go off topic yet again. I’m not really good at this journal thing. I feel like Til’ with his random streams of consciousness.
Anyway, back to Korin. On one hand, I feel that he’d never abandon Max and me. On the other, I feel that he’d want to save the lives of all those who would die under Raijom’s warmongering if Raijom were not stopped. His focus on others before himself is one of the many things I love admire about him.
I have to free Max and get him to Korin, even if Korin’s still coming for us. I’d love to think that I could escape to join them. However—and it breaks my heart to admit this—if the Academy wizards are going to war, my place is with them. Besides, my situation with Saiyre and Korin is not something that I need on my mind right now.
I don’t see freeing Max being possible until I’m back at the Academy. For now, I must focus on getting more information about this war so I can relay it to Max as soon as possible. Until I’m able to get that information, I can only sit in this accursed carriage and think.
It seems that I truly don’t have the freedom to choose who to love care for. First it was taken away by my father. Now it will be taken away by responsibility. By the time I see Korin again, I’m sure he’ll have moved on anyway . . .
I do have one bit of happiness to look forward to. I’m sure my captors will take my fake journal pages soon. I’m looking forward to it.
Chapter 11
The Lucidity of Stupidity
Jefren’s fist drove into my stomach, driving the wind from my lungs. Only the fact that I hadn’t eaten for almost a full day kept me from vomiting. I gasped in a deep breath of cool, early-evening air to make up for what had just been punched out of me.
The camp was packed, all the supplies and tents loaded on a long, two-wheeled, wooden cart with low wood paneling rising on three sides and an open gate on the back. The cart was hitched to two stout brown geldings, while the horses Til’ and I had acquired were kept at bay beside it by Kevrin, one of Jefren’s men.
I was still shirtless, only now I had a pale green stone embedded in my chest, dried blood crusted around its edges. In the fading daylight, its vicious glow was bright enough to illuminate the angry man before me. My lips were bloody from Jefren’s first punch, and I could feel my left eye swelling from the second. The third would leave an impressive bruise on my stomach. The pain exploding through my chest and temples did not keep me from feeling the punches, but it sure did mute their effects.
Oslen and Ullian held my arms, keeping me from escaping the punches. I couldn’t fault them; they were only acting on orders. They kept their gaze averted, clearly uncomfortable with Jefren’s brutal attack. Their presence wasn’t really necessary. There was little I could do. The gem in my chest, made sure of that.
I was officially a slave. I no longer had control over my own life. After narrowly escaping such a fate with Galius, it had still come to pass. I can’t even begin to describe the hopelessness and sheer terror that pervaded my entire being at the very thought of my enslavement. The only hope that existed for me now was in the form of a Kolarin that I’d been ordered to detain if I saw him.
I may as well mention my orders now. I’m not in a hurry to recount the rest of my senseless beating.
Jefren first commanded that I was to obey his every order. Given the nature of the gem in my chest—as I
understood it—I didn’t have a choice there anyway. Jefren’s blood had been applied to the tip of the gem before it had been hammered into me. Therefore, whatever he commanded, I had to obey.
Next, I was to follow any commands given to me by Kait’. In the event of contradictions between commands, Jefren’s would supersede. I was not to harm Jefren, Kait’, or any of the men, or have others do so for me. I was not to attempt to harm or kill myself. I was not to attempt removing my gem or the other men’s. I was not to have anyone else remove my gem. I was not to attempt escape. If anyone tried to rescue me, I was to detain them, or kill them if detaining them was not possible. If I even saw Til’, I was not to harm him, but detain him only, calling for backup if necessary. We all received that order.
There were a few more, but I think I’ve touched on all of the important ones. Jefren pretty much had all grounds covered.
In other words, there wasn’t a lot I could do to get the Wrixus-blooded gem out of me or to escape my captivity. Wrixus is the goddess of subservience, by the way. According to the church, she’s not subservient herself, but surrounds herself with slaves. The church preaches against slavery, yet one of their worshipped goddesses is allowed to enslave anyone she deems fit. Explain that one to me.
Oh, there’s one last order worth mentioning, and it was the one earning me the beating from the long-haired Gualainian before me. Jefren’s last order was for me to tell him where Til’ had gone. The magic of the gem—going by what Briscott had explained to me—ensured that I had to tell the truth. And truthfully, I had no idea where Til’ was. I had ideas about where he could have been going, but that wasn’t what Jefren had asked for. Score one for Korin.
Jefren asked me several more times, giving me another punch each time I gave the same answer. Score several for Jefren.
Jefren brought his face not a finger’s length from my own, having to hunch over to do so. His brown eyes radiated seething anger. Then again, maybe they just seemed that way in the glow emitting from my chest.
“Where. Is. The. Kolarin?” he sneered, his voice hoarse as always and his breath none too pleasant.
“I. Don’t. Know,” I replied, mockingly. I would’ve spit in his face, but I didn’t want to test if that counted as harming him. If I unsuccessfully tried to spit in his face, I would just give him more reason to gloat. Or punch me harder.
Just as Jefren reared an arm back in what was sure to be a hook to my left flank, Kait’ stepped forward as if from nowhere and lightly placed her hand on his tensed arm. She’d probably sauntered right up to Jefren, but with the pounding in my temples, it was hard to focus on anything other than Jefren’s fists. I’d barely even kept the sense of mind to tense my muscles in order to soften the damage from the blows.
“There’s no need for that,” she said breathily. “You’ll just end up killing him. You just need to ask the right questions.” Her dark eyes, bordering on black, turned to me. Jefren reluctantly dropped his arm, glaring at Kait’ as if she’d just insulted his mother.
Kait’ lifted my chin with her finger. I fought not to cringe at the thought of the leeches I knew were under her sleeve just a hand away from my face. “Korin, you are to answer me truthfully. What do you think the Kolarin is doing?” Score one for Kait’ and minus one for Korin. Dammit.
Before I could even begin to think about lying, my mouth started forming words. “I think that he’s either following us, or continuing on to Tahron—to the Wizard Academy—to rescue our friends who were abducted by wizards so that they can assist him in rescuing me.”
My heart ripped in twain for two reasons: I’d given them information that could lead to Til’s capture, and I realized that Til’ would do anything he could to rescue me. Aside from Max, I’d never had a friend that close to me before. And here I was selling him out, even if by force.
Kait’ gave me a haughty smile before pulling her finger away, allowing me to drop my head in shame, pain, and regret. The shame and regret started melting away as the pain in my head amplified, making the pain in my chest pale in comparison. I wanted to drop to the ground, writhing and screaming. Yet, it was easier to just hang there, supported by Oslen and Ullian, and let my tears fall silently to the ground.
“Good work, Kaitlyne,” Jefren muttered, looking as if the words were being ripped out of him by an invisible hand.
Kait’ said nothing in reply and headed towards the cart. With my head hanging, I couldn’t tell what she was doing, but it sounded like she was rifling through something on the cart.
“All right, men, we’re moving out within the hour,” Jefren called out, straining to make his voice heard. “Oslen, you and Ullian load Korin up on the cart. He will only slow us down otherwise. Make sure he gets something to eat and some water. He will join the watch rotation tomorrow night. That is, if he lives until then.” That last sentence was softly spoken, as if in afterthought. “Ullian, once Briscott gets back from Laurlan with Tagin, make sure he stays on the cart with our new friend here.”
After Jefren gave his last command, he turned to the cart. “Kait’, a word, please.”
Not being able to hear what was being discussed over the throbbing in my head, I turned my attention to keeping myself from being literally dragged to the cart by square-jawed Ullian and round-faced Oslen. The two men, dressed in dark browns with black cloaks, threw my arms around their shoulders and helped support me as I weakly placed one foot in front of the other. Ever since waking up with the gem implanted my chest, I’d felt weary down to my bones. Either I’d lost a good deal of blood, or my body was just getting used to the gem’s magic.
Whatever the reason for my weariness, it was a minor distraction compared to the pain. Briscott hadn’t been kidding about the headache. Up until this point, I’d never felt such blinding pain, and I’d been stabbed, suffered broken bones, had my hand charred nearly to ash, and just plain taken some major beatings recently in my life.
The sounds and sights around me helped to distract my mind from the pain. The darkening sky, visible over the near-bare treetops around the glade was struggling to retain the sun’s waning light, the red-orange sunset beautifully painting the clouds. The rhythmic, melodic sounds of chirping insects filled the air with the occasional owl’s hoot to break the monotony. Dead leaves crunched under our feet as we made our way to the cart.
With a grunt, the two men heaved me up to take a seat on the edge of the cart’s bed, my legs hanging off the back. I could hear the quiet but heated discussion between Kait’ and Jefren from their slight distance away from the cart. Their words were just a cluster of mumbles to me, but I could tell that they were having an argument.
I raised my head, wiped at my eyes, and then looked to the two men who were my new companions. “I appreciate the ride, fellows. Now I know how kings feel on their palanquins. Well, except for this damned headache,” I blandly joked with a bloody grin.
Oslen grunted and Ullian just shook his head. It was just my luck to be surrounded by people without a sense of humor. Then again, I could easily see my own humor disappearing pretty quickly. What kind of life could I have with the Loranis-forsaken gem stabbed through my sternum? How could I even think straight again with the unrelenting headache? How could I find any pleasure when Til’, Sal’, and Max were all potentially in danger with me unable to do a thing to help?
I found myself anticipating Briscott’s return. He would’ve given me a laugh, even if only in pity. Maybe that would’ve been enough to snap me out of my dark thoughts.
Ullian walked off in the direction of Laurlan, stopping at the edge of the glade, presumably watching for Briscott and Tagin to return from the town. They had already left before I’d awakened, so I had no idea what they had gone to Laurlan for.
Oslen reached past my side to grab a bag, from which he pulled a semi-rotten apple and some stale bread. He pushed the food into my hands and, taking a dented metal cup from the cart, set off into the woods. I could only assume he was going to get me some water fro
m a nearby creek or river. It made sense; they would want to preserve any water they had for our journey to . . . wherever we were going.
I didn’t wait for Oslen’s return, digging into my food as if it were my last meal. For all I knew, it could be. Upon Oslen’s return, I chugged the water, only realizing just how thirsty I was the moment the icy water slid down my tongue. Oslen fetched me a second cup without even being asked. That raised him up a notch or two in my mind, though his somber silence made me uncomfortable.
After I downed my second cup, I wrapped my arms around my weak and aching body. “Looks like it’s going to be a cold night,” I observed, attempting to insinuate to Oslen how cold I was in my shirtless state. Cold and I don’t really get along.
Getting only a noncommittal grunt from the man, I decided to step up to bluntness. “Is there any way I can get a shirt or something?”
Oslen grunted again and stepped up onto the cart, causing the back end to teeter downward. Thankfully, he moved forward and grabbed a large cloth sack before I could be deposited on the ground. While Oslen dug through the bag, I reached a hand up to my tender chest to feel the damage done by the gem. My hand stopped just short of the area around the gem, as if an invisible barrier kept my fingers from reaching it. Jefren’s orders apparently not only kept me from trying to pull the gem out, but from even getting my hand close enough to try.
As I settled for visibly observing my bloody skin and the bright glow of the pale green gem, Oslen stepped forward and offered me a long-sleeved brown shirt with a black leather strip lacing up the chest. It was too big on me, but I was warmer and was able to somewhat stifle the bright glow emitting from the gem.
Oslen jumped down from the cart, causing it to shake unsteadily and make my head hurt even more. Closing my eyes against the pounding pain shooting through my skull and ripping through my chest, I eased myself backwards onto the floor of the cart with my legs hanging over the back. Despite the pain, I was asleep before I knew it.
