Eris and Gideon exchanged glances before Gideon grinned. “How unfortunate for Commander Talon. Right, love?”
Eris said nothing, but there was a sharpness to her smile that Kali had never seen before.
“These thralls sound like something out of a glimmer story,” Marcen said to Kali, drawing her attention. “How many of the barbarians attacked your escort squad?”
“I'm not sure,” she admitted. “It all happened so fast, and I was in the carriage at first, so I couldn't see much–”
“Of course,” Gideon broke in. “Why in Seren's light would they allow a filthy moon-blood to travel in the open air like a person?”
Eris ignored him, green eyes fixed on Kali. “Were they after you, or just pillaging?”
It took Kali a moment to consider her answer, as she'd not thought of the attacks in that light. “I thought the Canderi were just raiding, as they sometimes do,” she said slowly. “The ones who attacked my escort didn't show any interest in me, until...”
She trailed off, her blood running cold. Until I removed the cuffs. She'd been in the carriage with Stonewall when the thralls had attacked; she'd grabbed the key from his belt and removed the hematite cuffs she'd worn in a desperate bid for survival. After that, she, Stonewall, and two other sentinels had fled the scene, though as far as she knew, only she and Stonewall had survived the thralls' pursuit.
Did the thralls sense my magic? If they could, it might explain why they pursued, especially since she was able to use her magic to kill one of them days later. Perhaps that initial pursuit had been intended to squash a potential threat.
“Kali?” Eris prompted.
“Aye,” Kali said, though she shook her head. “It’s just…odd. The thralls didn't seem to care about me at first, though we were ambushed twice on the journey. But they'd been spotted in the area, so we could have just been unlucky. That second time, the sentinel who traveled with me was able to kill one of them. I… killed another.”
Even now, the memory felt distant, as if it had happened to someone else. She'd never before used her magic to take a life, even in self-defense. It had been necessary, but she still shivered at how the light had gone out of her would-be murderer’s eyes. A monster one moment; a man the next. What in sweet Seren’s light was going on?
“Good,” Adrie said, sipping a mug of ale. “Defend yourself at all costs.”
“But how could she have?” Eris asked, then glanced at Kali. “Weren't you cuffed?”
Kali rubbed her wrists. “Not at the time. The sentinel...didn't think it was necessary.”
She considered the next part of her answer, for that aspect of the journey was complicated, even after she'd had some time to reflect. All she knew for certain was that she had somehow used magic to bring herself, Stonewall, and Frost—their horse—far away from the Canderi raiders. How she'd used magic with Stonewall, dressed head to toe in hematite and so close to her, was still a riddle. Perhaps, because her father had been a sentinel, she had some innate ability to work magic upon—or at least near—hematite?
No need to go into all that in this company. At least, not until she had a more complete understanding of what had happened. “After my escort was killed,” Kali continued. “This sentinel and I… escaped, together.”
“Lucky for you, I guess,” Marcen said, smiling shyly.
“Didn't you try to get away from the hemie?” Gideon asked. “That's the first thing I'd have done in your shoes.”
Kali shook her head. “I wanted to come here, to meet with Sadira. It was the entire reason they were bringing me from Starwatch.” She glanced at Eris, hoping her friend would help her explain. “You made her healing magic sound so impressive. I thought it was worth the journey, just to see if she could fix my knee. It's… an old trouble,” she added before anyone could ask.
“Yes, but there are many powerful mages in the world,” Gideon said. “And most of Seren’s children don't live behind bastion walls. If you'd tried to get away, you might have met some of them.”
“No cuffs and out in the wilderness, with only one sentinel,” Cai mused, a wicked grin on his face. “I'd have made the sod wish he'd never taken the Burn.”
“They're not all terrible,” Kali said before she checked herself. The aghast looks the others gave her made her cheeks burn. “The ones back home were generally kind to me, with a few exceptions. And the fellow I traveled here with was…” She trailed off, lest she reveal too much of her heart. “He was all right,” she finished lamely.
Marcen gave her another smile. “I'm glad he brought you here safely.”
It was a warm smile, and much of Kali’s earlier annoyance faded. “Me too.”
Gideon coughed into his hand while Cai snickered, and Eris and Adrie exchanged glances. To break the silence, Kali cleared her throat. “Speaking of sentinels, have any new ones been transferred here?”
“Why do you ask?” Eris said.
Her friend's voice was mild, but heat crept back up to Kali's face nonetheless. “Just curious.”
“Aye, I heard of a new sentinel in the garrison,” Adrie replied, and Kali's breath caught. “A woman...Gray, I think I heard one of the others call her.”
“Gray survived?” Good news, she supposed, but Kali's foolish heart fell. “The man I traveled with is called 'Stonewall.'”
Eris still studied her, but Gideon made a dismissive motion. “Who cares what the hemies name themselves? They're all the same to us.” His voice darkened. “They're all our enemies.”
Four
After supper, hours after all sensible folk should have been asleep, Foley Clementa awoke to the sound of raucous laughter emanating from the common room. Apparently the Echinas and their friends had decided to continue their celebration into the morning.
The laughter faded and he breathed a quiet prayer of thanks...until a woman's voice rose in a tavern song, with several mages shouting encouragement. Moments later, someone began to play a dulcimer.
The First Mage sighed, threw a dressing gown over his nightshirt, and slipped out from his little room in the mage dormitories. Even through his padded slippers, the corridor’s flagstones were cold, but he ignored the discomfort. By now, he was quite good at that.
No one noticed when he entered the great open room. Yes, it was the same half-dozen mages from supper, albeit after a great deal of wine, judging from the mugs and bottles someone—Adrie, probably, though she was old enough to know better—had set upon the table. Kalinda Halcyon, the new mage, stood before the table, singing with a clear voice, while Marcen Selle played his dulcimer in time with the bawdy tune. The others clapped and Gideon tugged Eris to her feet, urging her to dance. Cai Jerolin and Adrie Talar jumped up as well, and it was indeed a merry moment.
How fortunate you are, Foley thought as he approached. And how utterly, completely ignorant you are of your good fortune. He didn't have to say a word. The moment Kalinda caught sight of him, she faltered. When Marcen looked over at Foley, he flushed and stuck his dulcimer behind his back like a child caught with pilfered sweets.
“What's…?” Gideon's back was to Foley; at the sudden lack of music, he turned, saw the First Mage, and stilled. What laughter there had been on his face died and his eyes turned hard. “Foley.”
“Mage Echina.” Foley regarded the rest, all of whom had paused in their revelry to regard him, slightly swaying. The scent of wine hung thick in the air. “It's very late. And some of your other friends have assignments that will begin in a few short hours. I must ask that you be respectful of them and keep the noise to a minimum.”
He swept his eyes across each mage as he spoke, noting their reactions: Marcen and Kalinda exchanged guilty looks; Adrie crossed her arms before her chest and nodded once; Cai scowled beneath a mop of messy brown hair. Gideon and Eris stood like statues, staring at Foley.
No one replied to his request, but no matter. Foley met their gazes calmly and added, “Welcome back, both of you.
It's good to see you've returned. I hope,” he could not resist, “that you've learned a valuable lesson.”
He should have known better. Well, he did, but was past caring at this particular hour. In any case, it was not entirely a surprise when Eris' eyes flashed with anger even as her husband stepped forward, legs wobbly. “Oh, we've learned a great many things, metal-licker.”
Foley held back a grimace at the profanity. It was worse, somehow, than “moon-blood.” Perhaps the slur was more painful because it came from a fellow mage, and an ordinarily good-tempered man at that.
But as was befitting his role as bastion steward, Foley ensured that his mannerisms did not betray his innermost self. “For whatever it's worth, I'm sorry you were imprisoned. However, I–”
“Your apology means nothing,” Eris broke in. “For the sake of the others, we'll be quiet, but you should leave. Now. You are not welcome here.”
Gideon nodded. “In other words, sod off.”
Anger swelled through Foley's veins, but it was not the quick, sudden type that overtook like a summer storm; it was deeper, rising from a place of old bitterness that he would never be rid of. “Your individual actions will define how the rest of us are treated. You must understand that. It's not fair, but it is the way of our world.”
Cai and Gideon muttered curses, but Eris seemed to consider his words carefully. “The way of our world,” she repeated, frowning. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
“It won't be that way forever,” her husband muttered.
That same anger filled Foley again, almost to the breaking point. He moved closer to Gideon and was not above feeling gratitude when the other man's eyes widened and he took a step back. Foley lifted his left arm, allowing his stump and the hook affixed to the end to catch the light of the fire. “I once thought as you did. I thought it could be different. This is only a small taste of my misguided belief. Don't you understand that? Don't you fear what they will do to you?”
The others flinched at the sight, even Gideon, who'd fashioned the thing. All except Eris. The black-haired mage met his eyes; unlike her husband, there was no trace of ire in her words, only the heavy sense of a hand wielding a sword. “Not as much as we despise the alternative.”
She lifted her chin. In the firelight, a lump defined the hematite collar beneath her tunic. Though Foley would never blame Talon for insisting upon it, the sight of the wretched thing made him ill. His anger dissipated and he felt leaden and far too old for his fifty-six summers. “Don't disturb the others,” he said as he turned to leave. “And clean up when you're done.”
***
Silence buzzed in Eris’ ears in the moments following Foley's departure, until Gid threw back his head and laughed aloud. “That. Was. Brilliant,” he said, grinning at Eris. “You're so eloquent when you're drunk.”
“I'm not drunk….” The room tilted and she winced. “Shit. I am, aren't I?”
“You're in good company,” Cai replied.
Eris ignored him and peered into her mug of wine. “Adrie, what in the void did you put into this stuff? I'm reeling like I've been kicked by a mule.”
“Nothing strange. This batch was rowan, strawberries and rose hips.” Adrie examined the nearest bottle with pride. “Took me a few tries to age the rose hips’ particles just right, but it turned out well, don't you think?”
Kali stepped over, sniffed the mug's contents and studied Eris. “You can't manipulate the particles before you drink, can you?”
“Shit.” Eris glared at the mug in her hand, then turned to Gideon. “You were supposed to do it for me before I got to this state.”
He gave a sheepish grin. “Sorry, love. I forgot. Must've been all that wine.”
Naturally, he added a wink that made her blood hot – with ire as much as anything else. Even so, Eris rolled her eyes. “Seren’s light… What am I going to do with you?”
“Punish me,” Gid replied, grinning wider.
Kali cleared her throat and glanced at Adrie. “Can't you make… less strong wine?”
The fair-haired mage shrugged. “I could… but where's the fun in that?”
“It's not Adrie's fault. It's not even Gid's fault.” Eris tugged at the collar through her tunic; the hematite and leather monstrosity seemed tighter every time she breathed. “It's this sodding thing. If I could only get rid of it!” The others nodded in sympathy, but Kali's expression turned thoughtful. Eris regarded her. “I know that look. You've an idea. What is it?”
Kali's cheeks were already flushed, but they seemed to turn even pinker. “It's probably nothing....”
“Well, you've got to tell us now,” Cai said, sprawling back in his seat, kicking his feet up on an adjacent bench.
“Aye, don't keep us on tenterhooks,” Adrie added, pouring herself another mug of wine.
Kali ran a hand down the length of her plait, which had begun to unravel sometime during the course of the evening – or morning. She seemed to consider, then asked Eris to sit back down, pull the neck of her tunic down, and move her hair away from the collar. “I just want to get a better look,” she said.
Eris sat as directed, Gid standing beside her, watching carefully. “There's nothing to see,” Eris said as Kali began to fiddle with the thing. “It's leather, some iron and hematite, but I feel completely caged.”
Kali did not respond. She was behind Eris' head, so out of Eris' line of sight, but the other woman's sudden stillness clued Eris into the fact that her friend was doing something. It felt like hours, but…
“Sweet sodding stars.” Cai breathed. Marcen and Adrie uttered similar swears, and Gid's mouth hung open – he was too shocked for words.
Eris’ stomach twisted. “What is it? What's going…?”
The pressure on her neck eased and she gasped as life poured back into her world. The veil that had been a constant for a fortnight lifted; everything sharpened. She was suddenly aware of so much more, so much that hematite had stolen: the hearth’s golden glow; the sweet scent of wine; Gid's warmth, so close and familiar.
But surely she was still drunk. Surely…
Even when Kali held the collar out to her, Eris did not believe her eyes. It was impossible. She took the collar without feeling its weight and gaped at her friend. “How…?”
Kali smiled, but the expression did not reach her eyes. Indeed, she looked as if someone had drained away all of her vigor: her cheeks were sunken and her skin was far too pale. “It worked,” she murmured, almost to herself. She frowned, tilted her head as if listening to another. “It worked?”
“You didn't know you could do that?” Gideon said, incredulous.
“No mage can work magic on hematite,” Adrie added. “It's… well, I was going to say 'impossible,' but I suppose not.”
“Sadira can,” Kali said softly. “At least, she can do magic while bound by hematite.”
Gideon rolled his eyes. “Sadira wears that stupid necklace willingly, so the sodding hemies actually trust her. She’s worse than Foley.”
“Aye, Sadira’s… different,” Eris said. “She doesn’t count as one of us.” She reached for Kali’s hand to squeeze it. “Not like you.”
Kali shook her head; her entire body swayed with the motion. “I must have done it before, when we escaped,” she said, voice dazed. “The Canderi,” she added, looking at Eris. “The ones who attacked the sentinels bringing me from Starwatch. I did… something, and brought all of us—me, the horse, and Stonewall—out of harm's way. I wondered, if I was able to do magic with a sentinel so close to me....”
She trailed off, as if that would be explanation enough. Eris, still reeling from the shock, tried to put her thoughts in order – which was difficult, given that the floor was still tilting. “You did magic on a sentinel?”
“No.” Kali grimaced and rubbed her temples. “Well, not exactly. I don't think, anyway. But he was terribly close.”
A dull but rapid thud made Eris look in alarm toward the comm
on room door, but it was only her own blood beating in her ears. Her breath came short and wild excitement flowed through her veins, because Kali… Kali could change everything.
Eris and Gideon’s meeting with the Assembly man, Drake, about a fortnight ago had given her some measure of confidence in Drake’s ability to help the mages escape. Drake and his Assembly friends had hopefully already taken care of one part of Drake’s plan; Eris would have to pay close attention to the sentinels, to search for signs that they did not have as much of their precious hematite as they needed. But even if Drake stole all of the hematite in the country, the metal still ran through the veins of all the sentinels here. And although Eris had been able to make that sodding Commander Talon feel her magic, the effect had been faint and short-lived, with no result other than to piss off Talon even more. But magic like Kali’s could give Eris and her friends an additional edge.
She caught Gideon’s gaze; his astonished but calculating expression mirrored her thoughts. But they had to take care. Eris took a deep breath and ensured her voice was calm as she placed a hand on Kali’s shoulder. “You’re a marvel.”
The other mage gave a weary laugh. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Could you use magic on a sentinel again?” Gid asked quietly.
No one spoke. No one seemed to breathe as they waited for Kali’s response. Cai’s hands twisted in his pockets, but thank the stars, he held his tongue. Adrie’s gaze was pinned on Kali, though a warning look from Eris made her relax and blink a few times as she took a deep draw from her mug. Marcen, too, was riveted on the newcomer, though his expression held a different sort of interest than the others’.
Kali was oblivious to them all, her gaze on the stone floor. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “Maybe.”
Eris gave her friend’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Would you be willing to try?”
“On a sentinel?” Adrie said, eyes huge. “Are you mad?”
“On hematite again,” Eris hurried to clarify. “Kali? What do you say?”
Catalyst Moon: Breach (Catalyst Moon Saga Book 2) Page 5
