Catalyst Moon: Breach (Catalyst Moon Saga Book 2)

by Lauren L. Garcia

  He didn't sound exactly pleased. Kali tried to keep her tone light. “They seemed like a decent bunch. Except that one dark-haired girl…”

  Stonewall scowled, but smoothed the expression away almost immediately and regarded her intently. “Thank Tor I caught your meaning earlier. I had to wait for the right moment to get away. You weren't waiting long, were you?”

  “Not too long.”

  “Good.” He seemed to study her again, more appraising than before, and there was hesitant curiosity in his next question. “When we met before, were you...using magic on those flowers?”

  Kali glanced over at the dead vines again. Her blood sang with elation, but she could not tell if it was a lingering effect of her magic or caused by Stonewall's presence.

  “Kali?”

  She nodded. “Aye. I'm still trying to understand….” She made a helpless gesture. “Everything.”

  “Everything,” he repeated, then shook his head. “That's quite a challenge.”

  “Everything related to my magic,” she said, playfully swatting his chest.

  Stonewall chuckled. Another wind blew through her cloak, making her shiver. The hematite in his veins must have kept him warmer than her cloak kept her, for he didn't seem to notice the chill other than to vigorously rub his gloved hands along her upper arms to warm them. She took a deep breath to steady her mind as well as her body and met his eyes. “When do you have to be back?”

  “Sparring practice.” A half-smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “About an hour after dawn.”

  “You've the entire night free?” she asked, grinning even as another swell of desire pulsed through her.

  He seemed to fight back his own true smile. “Seems that way.”

  “Sweet stars,” she said, feigning innocence. “However will you pass the time?”

  His eyes gleamed as he pulled her closer for another kiss, this one fiercer than the last. His armor was hard and unyielding, but she hardly noticed any discomfort. They might have lingered beneath the mage-moon, but for a snapping twig that made them break apart and step away from one another, almost in unison. Kali scanned the garden, but saw no one. They were alone.

  Stonewall released a deep breath and cast her a chagrined look. “I admit, I didn't plan this far ahead, but we should go somewhere private. I've my own room in the garrison. It's modest, but…”

  He trailed off as Kali shook her head. “My quarters are much closer.” And safer, she thought.

  “The dormitories?” He frowned in consideration. “How in Nox's void am I going to get to your room without causing a stir? We don't usually enter the mages' private spaces.”

  “Far easier than I could get to your room, I'm sure.” Kali stepped back and gave him an appraising look, then grinned. “I've an idea, but I doubt you're going to like it.”

  He surprised her with a chuckle. “If your idea ends the way I'm hoping, I’ll get over it.”

  She took his hand and began to lead him toward the dormitories. “Good. Just… keep that in mind for the next few minutes.”

  ***

  The bastion wall at Stonewall's back should have been a comfort, but it only served to remind him that he was on the wrong side, at the wrong time, under suspicious circumstances. Thank Tor, the mages’ rooms were on the bottom story. The window to Kali's room—assuming he'd counted correctly—was dark and shuttered tight. He could have smashed his way in, of course, but he wasn't that reckless.

  Not yet, anyway.

  Don't be an idiot, he chided himself. They'd parted ways only a few minutes ago, and she'd said she might have to make some excuses to get to her room alone if she encountered any of her fellow mages on her way. He simply had to be patient.

  A candle flickered to life behind the curtains over her window. Moments later, the curtains drew back, revealing Kali's familiar face, intent as she unfastened the latch at the top. The crescent-shaped window folded down to lay flush with the side of the building, but the opening it created was not wide enough for his armored shoulders.

  “I'm too big to fit,” he said as Kali leaned on the sill.

  She lifted a single, dark brow. “I didn't take you for a boasting man, but I appreciate the warning.”

  He flushed and laughed at once. “Me and my gear combined will be too big to fit through the window.”

  “Aye, you'll have to strip.” He stared at her, unsure if she was joking, as her lips had quirked in a smile. “Just the weapons and helmet. Maybe this, too.” She tapped his cuirass, which was the bulkiest part of his kit. “Don't worry; I'll take it for you.”

  Stonewall opened his mouth to object, but there was really no other option, and every moment he stood out in the cold was another he wouldn't get to spend with her. Another man, perhaps a wiser man, would have balked at the idea of relinquishing his weapons and armor and leaving himself potentially exposed—in more ways than one—but he was not that man. At least, not right now.

  Even so, Stonewall had a moment of debate before divesting himself of his weapons. Habit, formed under years of poverty and life as a warrior, battled with unthinking desire, but ultimately, he chose to trust her. He'd come this far. There was no point in turning back now. He handed over his helmet and unbuckled his belt, carefully wrapping it around his sword sheathe before passing them all through the window. His daggers had their own belt and these too, he handed to Kali. As he began to work the leather straps that connected the chest and back pieces of his cuirass, she sighed.

  “What?” he asked, not looking up. Damn; the buckle on the final strap was stubborn, and he could not get it undone.

  “Was it necessary to wear all of that here?”

  At last, the strap gave and he shrugged out of the heavy leather cuirass, shivering as the cold struck him in earnest. “The only thing that would look more suspicious than a sentinel coming into the bastion alone,” he said as he handed it to her, would be one doing so unarmed.”

  She did not reply. He considered the window again. It still looked small, but he thought he could manage. Just in case, he removed the armored pieces from his shoulders and upper arms to give himself a few more inches.

  “Stand back,” he told her once she'd taken those pieces and set them aside.

  She did. He peered inside her room to get a sense of the layout. It wasn't much larger than his, though she'd certainly made herself at home here if the clothes scattered across the floor were any indication. Her sleeping pallet was directly under the window. He glanced around outside to ensure no one had decided to make an impromptu patrol behind the mage dormitories. Until now, he could probably explain everything away – somehow. However, the second he was half-naked and inside her room, the situation would take another shape entirely.

  If he could even get inside, that is.

  Stonewall braced his hands on the windowsill and shot her a wry look. “Here goes nothing.”

  She stood by his gear, which she'd stacked in the far corner of the room. “I have every confidence in your ability to enter a confined space.”

  As it turned out, he did fit through the window, but barely. His head, back, and shoulders came through well enough, but at an awkward angle, which made both of his knees get stuck on the sill, the armored pieces over his kneecaps locking the joints in place. When he was half inside, half outside, the wound on his side began to burn with his struggle, and he could only think of how utterly disastrous this could be should a nighttime patrol come by. He could not be found like this!

  “Err… are you–”

  “Yes, I'm stuck,” he hissed.

  “Ah, I couldn’t tell,” she said dryly. “Stop thrashing like a sodding trout and hold still, so I can get you unstuck.” She leaned beside him and tugged on his left knee to free it, did the same to his right, then came to stand before him. “I pull, you squeeze the rest of the way in,” she said as she grabbed his forearms. “Ready?”

  But he was already moving. While she pulled,
he was pushing against the sill. The end result sent them sprawling on her sleeping pallet, their faces a breath apart. Pain and his concerns about potential discovery fled his mind in the wake of far more pleasant thoughts.

  Then she gasped. “Heavy… can't… breathe…”

  “Ea's tits.” He scrambled up to give her space and they sat facing one another on her bed.

  Kali took a few deep breaths, and then shot him a grin. “Nothing's easy with you.”

  Of course, she was teasing, but the words struck a dark chord, echoing his earlier doubts. “Nor will it ever be, I think.”

  “I don't mind.” She turned to latch the window and draw the curtain. “You make my life infinitely more interesting.”

  With the window shuttered, with the bastion out of sight, they were essentially in their own world. The stone walls of her room held no heat, nor did the single candle provide more than a wavering light, but he didn't feel cold when he looked at her. “Nothing worth having comes easily,” he said.

  Amusement flashed in her eyes as she leaned closer to him, grasping his tunic to pull his face to hers. “Sounds like a challenge. Or are you saying I have you?”

  It was not within him to joke about this, not now, at any rate. But his vision pooled to her face; his attention was riveted on her eyes, her lips, the smooth curve of her jaw… Focus. He took her hand in his. “Kali, for whatever I'm worth, you have me.”

  Her eyes widened and she smiled again, but it was a softer smile than before, all traces of teasing vanished. Rather than reply, she leaned up, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. All other thoughts fell away. All he knew—all he wanted to know—was the woman in his arms, who even now tried to straddle his lap as they kissed, though her left knee was giving her difficulty. Unthinking, he reached for her upper thigh and gently guided her into place. She tightened her embrace, deepened her kiss.

  She was so warm beneath him, soft and sweetly curved. Stonewall slid his hands over the silk dress that had slid up around her waist. “This is very pretty,” he murmured between kisses. “But it covers too much of you.”

  Kali smiled beneath his mouth. “What are you going to do about it?”

  He slid his hands up her back to pull her dress over her head; she wriggled free and pressed herself against his chest as she kissed him again. Blood beat in his ears as he skimmed his thumbs across her breasts, down her hips, and lower, still. A soft sound of pleasure escaped her and pure arousal flooded his every vein.

  When they parted to breathe, she tugged on the hem of his tunic. “You’re still overdressed.”

  By some mercy of the gods, he was able to keep her in place while he shucked the rest of his gear and at last, they were skin-to-skin. He allowed himself a moment to marvel at how the flickering candlelight played across her nipples and cheeks, and at the shadows caught in the hollow of her throat.

  Kali, too, studied him, though not just with her eyes. Slender fingers skimmed over his shoulders, chest, and abdomen, where she lingered over his newest wound, still bandaged, but not bleeding. “What happened?”

  He took a deep breath, unwilling to sully the moment but more unwilling to leave her question unanswered. “A thrall gave this to me.”

  “It looks fresh.”

  “It is. But I'm fine,” he added, smiling when she rolled her eyes. “Truly. It hurts a bit, but between thalo gel and hematite, I'm ready for action.”

  As he'd hoped, a slow smile spread over her face. “Shall I take it easy on you?”

  “Never.” They both chuckled, but something caught in his chest as he watched her. Some strange compulsion made him say, “Kali, I was afraid I wouldn't see you again.”

  She embraced him, leaning her cheek beside his, pressing herself close enough for him to feel her racing heartbeat. She said nothing more. She didn't need to. He inhaled her scent, wishing to imprint every part of her in his memory, and held her as close as he could.

  They did not part until hours later, in the final moments before dawn.

  Ten

  Talon stared at the letter in her hand as if reading the words for the umpteenth time would make any difference.

  Commander Talon,

  Given the thralls and the recent Canderi attacks, Queen Solasar's soldiers have their hands full. To ease the queen’s burden, I am sending squads from the Starwatch and Redfern sentinel garrisons to assist the military.

  As for the Whitewater garrison, my sources tell me that Assembly members have been operating in the guise of Sufani nomads in your province. However, no individuals have been brought into custody.

  You are hereby ordered to collect as many Sufani as possible to be sent to Lasath for questioning. The devious nature of the nomads—and their Assembly allies—will make for difficult hunting, so I advise you to begin your search near the outskirts of Oreion, where Sufani camps have recently been spotted. Your sentinels have authorization to use deadly force if necessary.

  Additionally, I am troubled by the report of the escaped mages, particularly the mage who was able to shape-change into a bird. It is unacceptable that any mage flee our custody, even if they are reclaimed. What provisions have you taken to ensure that such an incident does not repeat itself?

  Because the mage was returned, you will not be formally reprimanded at this time. However, you have been in your position long enough to understand the true danger that the magic-users present. Know that similar future incidents will result in disciplinary actions, for yourself as well as those under your command.

  Furthermore, should the need arise, I will not hesitate to cleanse Whitewater Bastion of Seren's curse.

  Honor. Service. Sacrifice.

  High Commander Argent

  Silverwood Garrison, City of Lasath, Province of Silverwood

  The date was several days ago, which meant that at the time, the burnie sergeant would not have returned to Lasath to share the news of the stolen hematite, the Sufani, and the renegade mage. That date also meant that Argent would not have received the letter Talon had sent a few days ago, the one with her account of the new officer’s induction and her request for more hematite.

  Talon set the letter on her desk and leaned back in her chair, her armor somehow heavier than normal. She glanced out her office window to watch the clusters of gray-armored men and women performing their morning drills. The ring of steel upon steel was comforting. The bastion walls loomed beyond the courtyard. Through the gates, she could glimpse a few mages moving about even at this early hour.

  When she looked back, the parchment still rested innocuously on her desk. I will not hesitate to cleanse Whitewater Bastion of Seren's curse.

  From any other it might be an idle threat, a way for her superior officer to let her know he meant business. But Argent was a man of his word.

  And the bit about “easing the queen’s burden” was troubling in an entirely different way. The sentinels—and the Circle whom they served—had always operated independently of the monarch. Was Argent hoping to change that? If so, why? Argent was ambitious and opportunistic; perhaps he hoped to make the sentinels more valuable to queen and country during this chaos. But the sentinels had enough on their shoulders without the added duty of supplementing the royal army.

  A familiar anxiety coiled in Talon’s belly, but she was able to fight it back with a few deep breaths. How had he learned of Eris' shape-changing? Talon’s initial report of the Echinas' escape had lacked that particular detail, but only because she had dealt with the matter accordingly. No mage could remove the hematite collar, so Eris' shape-changing—potential or otherwise—was not an issue any longer. There was no need to give Argent any reason to turn his attention to Whitewater Bastion.

  But still… he knew. How?

  Rumors abounded of Argent’s network of informants. Some claimed he had eyes and ears in every city in Aredia, though surely that was an exaggeration. More likely, he'd caught wind of some gossip, possibly from merch
ants, city guards, or Silver Squad: his most elite sentinels, whom he often sent on dangerous missions that took them all across the continent.

  In any case, Talon resolved to be more careful going forward. Argent would soon understand that she had the situation well in hand. One problem at a time.

  She glanced at the High Commander’s letter again, considering. If Argent had not yet heard of the stolen hematite shipment when he wrote this, he would not have known that a mage had assisted the Sufani. No doubt he knew by now. Hope stirred within her chest. If her sentinels could find this mage and bring him into custody…

  Argent would be pleased – at the very least. And if Argent was pleased, he might be willing to overlook her “oversight” in not reporting Eris’ transformation. Talon’s conduct was generally above reproach, for she followed every protocol to the letter, including the tiresome inductions that no other commander bothered with.

  Talon exhaled, releasing some of her tension. Everything would work out. She could still salvage this situation. Once the High Commander sent more hematite, she would feel more at ease. In the meantime, she had a new mission.

  ***

  By the time Talon reached the training yard, morning had fallen upon Whitewater City in full force. About forty sentinels, grouped in their squads, sparred in the open space. The hematite embedded in their armor flashed in the sunlight. When Cobalt caught sight of her, he lifted his hand to whistle and call the others to attention, but she shook her head. There was no need for such formality now. She tilted her chin, indicating Sergeant Stonewall's squad, and continued on her way. Cobalt nodded and turned, but not before she caught a scowl cross his face.

  She ignored the expression. Cobalt was a capable officer and her second-in-command; if he harbored any ill feelings about his situation, he could bring them to her attention – as a proper officer should. In the meantime, his emotions were not her concern.