“All right,” he said, and the sick feeling strengthened at the way she tensed beneath his gaze. “This is what’s going to happen. I’m going to unbind your hands – not completely, but enough so that you can free yourself with a little effort. Then I’m going to ride away. If anyone asks,” he couldn’t help but add, “you escaped by your own wiles.”
Her eyes widened, then narrowed.
Stonewall sighed again as he worked the knot binding her wrists. “Yes, I am indeed a fool. But at least this way, I’m a fool who can live with myself.” When the rope was loose enough, he met the civilian woman’s gaze one last time. “I’m truly sorry for all of this. I hope we never cross paths again.”
With one motion, he shoved her away from him, sending her spinning into the dirt, and leaped for Frost’s saddle. By the time she found her footing, he was already gone.
***
Milo spotted the sergeant first. The squad had reconvened on the main road, about to head back to Oreion, when Stonewall’s distinctive dapple-gray mare stepped out of the woods, heading in their direction. Stonewall rode alone.
Flint, seated before Milo, swore. Beacon and Rook exchanged looks before Rook trotted her horse forward, leading one of the carriage horses that had served as Milo’s mount for the journey from where they had stowed the carriage in the village.
“Ser,” Rook said as she met the officer. “Are you all right? What happened to–”
“I’m fine,” Stonewall broke in. “Let’s just get back.” He urged his mount toward the others. “How’s Flint?”
“Still here,” Flint replied. “Unlike our prisoner. What happened?”
The sergeant shot her a warning look, and then seemed to reconsider. He drew Frost to a stop and removed his helmet to rub his forehead. “She’s gone.”
“Gone?” Milo exclaimed. “How?”
Stonewall was silent for too long. “Escaped.”
Beacon glanced at the tree line, then back to their sergeant. “So all of that was for nothing?”
“I’m sorry,” Stonewall replied, shaking his head. “Flint, I’m especially sorry for you. But you all did your best.”
He nudged his horse into a walk and began to ride down the road. The squad remained, casting stunned looks at one another, before Rook frowned and urged her mount after their sergeant. “She was secure, ser. I tied her bonds myself. If I’m to be disciplined for something, I want to know what.”
“I don’t mind bleeding a little,” Flint added. “But I damn sure want a good reason for it.”
“Agreed,” Beacon replied.
Although no one looked at Milo, he felt their attention on him anyway. Face warm, he said, “You don’t have to fight alone, ser.”
This made the sergeant stop his horse and look back at the squad, standing several paces away. With his helmet gone, the purple splotches on his face and neck from the cloud dust stood out garishly in the afternoon light. “You all did your duty,” he said, looking from one sentinel to the next. “We had orders we did not agree with, yet you all followed them to the letter. Our prisoner escaped due to my negligence, do you understand?” The muscles in his jaw tightened as he added, “That’s all you need to know.”
With that, he faced forward again and nudged his horse into a walk once more. “Come on. We need to get underway if we’re to reach the garrison before night falls.”
Nobody moved. Beacon and Rook exchanged astonished glances before Rook shook her head. She rode after the sergeant, Beacon following behind.
“That sodding idiot,” Flint murmured. “He’ll get himself sent to the mines.”
There was no anger in her voice, nor surprise. Milo sighed. “I hope not.”
Twelve
Eris gnawed on her thumbnail as she regarded the crudely drawn map spread on the table. At last, she found the place Drake had described during their meeting and tapped her finger to the spot. “As best we can figure, the passage in the wall leads to this alley, so this is where Drake said his friends will be waiting for us.”
Gid and Adrie leaned closer to get a better look. Above their heads, motes of dust caught in the slanting beams of light that filtered through the workshop's windows. Each breath brought Eris the scent of chopped wood and hot metal. Several huge barrels filled with sand rested in one corner, while squares of glass had been carefully stacked on one of several worktables. Scraps of tin, iron, and copper lay scattered around the workshop.
Gideon nodded slowly. “Not such a long way to go, is it?”
“How will we get out of the city?” Adrie asked. “Won't the guards be checking marks at the gates?”
Cai stood beside the workshop door, occasionally peering through the slats. “We'll just have to be quick as bunnies.”
“This isn't a joking matter,” Adrie replied, glaring at the younger man.
Cai swiped a lock of brown hair from his face. “Look, we've been over this a thousand times today. The solstice festival will be in full swing; the hemies will be hard-pressed to so much as spot us in the crowd, let alone chase us down. Same goes for the city guards.”
“Aye, but they'll all be on high alert,” Eris countered. “And they'll already be on edge with all the travelers coming to the city – and with their stolen hematite.”
Adrie frowned. “Has anyone seen signs that they’re missing their precious metal?”
“None that I can tell,” Eris replied. “But it’s early, yet.” Not for the first time, her stomach knotted at the enormity of what they were attempting. “In any case, we must prepare for the worst.”
“But hope for the best.” Gid's voice was warm, as was the hand he rested on hers. They exchanged a look and some of the tension within her body eased.
Adrie sighed and studied the map again. “You’re certain your friends will have transportation outside the gates?”
Gideon nodded. “Drake's never let me down. In fact, I think–”
A quick rap at the workshop door made Eris reach into her pocket for her collar, until Cai peered through one of the slats. “It's only Marcen,” he said as he unlatched the door.
The slender, blond man slipped inside and dusted off his coat, sending clouds of flour to mingle with the dust motes. “Ovens are hot,” he said to Adrie. “The loaves are on their second rise, and the geese are ready for you.”
Eris flinched at the mention of tonight's supper, but Adrie straightened. “Good. I'll be along in a moment.”
Marcen nodded, and then crossed the workshop to regard the map, his pale eyes serious. “It's really going to happen, isn't it?”
“Finally,” Cai added darkly. “I thought I'd be stuck behind these walls forever.”
“It hasn't happened yet,” Eris replied. “We've not much more than a month until Heartfire.”
Cai groaned. “ I'll never make it that long.”
“Have you talked to anyone else about joining us?” Marcen asked the others.
“Figured I’d speak to Druce,” Cai replied. “Maybe Oly.”
“There’s no one else I’m comfortable asking,” Gideon said, glancing at Eris. “Unless… Have you spoken to your friend?”
“Kali?” Marcen said before Eris could reply. “I mean… Kalinda.”
Adrie lifted a brow and shot Eris a knowing look, while Gideon and Cai grinned. “Aye, Kalinda,” Cai drawled, nudging Mar's side. “Thank you for reminding me.”
Marcen flushed bright pink. “D'you want to come take care of the geese?” he said to Adrie, the words tumbling out of his mouth.
“In a moment,” Adrie said, grinning. “This reminds me, Mar. You and Kalinda made beautiful music together the other night.”
“Yes, Mar,” Gideon added. “You were quite the pair. Have you gotten to spend any more time in her company?”
“Ah…” Poor Marcen flushed again, harder than before.
Eris rolled her eyes. “Marcen, I don't think she's involved with anyone, so if you're interested,
you've an open door. Can we please get back to the matter at hand?”
But strangely, Marcen frowned, all flush fading from his cheeks. “She's not…? Odd. I could have sworn…”
He fell silent. The others waited a beat before Adrie sighed loudly. “Don't leave us in suspense.”
Marcen ran a hand through his fair hair. “Well, I wanted to invite her to dinner last night,” he began. “But I couldn't find her anywhere. And when I went to her room…” He trailed off again, flushing once more.
“You went to her room...?” Cai prompted.
“I heard… noises,” Marcen said, wincing.
Eris frowned. “What sort of noises?”
Marcen gave her a look. “The sort that meant she wasn't alone and probably didn't want to be disturbed. I didn't linger.”
The others were silent, until Cai sighed and clapped a hand on Marcen's shoulder. “Rough break, my friend.”
“Who could it be, though?” Adrie asked, tapping the map. “She only just got here; I've hardly said a handful of words to her myself, and I think most others can say the same thing.”
“She and Sadira have become friendly,” Cai offered.
Marcen shook his head. “I definitely heard a man's voice.”
“Oly? Or Castor, maybe?” Adrie said.
“No, I saw them both at dinner,” Marcen replied. “Eris, what do you think?”
Eris looked back at the map without really seeing it. “I think Kali's personal business is none of our concern. Now,” she added sharply, meeting each of their eyes. “Let's stop gossiping and try to get some more planning done, shall we?”
The talk turned to more practical matters until Adrie and Marcen slipped off to finish supper. Cai, Eris, and Gideon remained. Through the window, the light shifted, until Eris reckoned evening was nearly upon them.
Cai unfolded himself from leaning over the map and stretched his back, yawning. “I think that's enough for one day. I'll keep asking around, but it seems like we'll have a good number of mages waiting to… fly away.”
“Be discreet,” Gideon warned.
The brown-haired man snorted and moved to the workroom door. “Well, I was going to ask the hemies to join us, but I suppose I won't, now.”
“Good thinking,” Eris replied dryly.
As Cai made to open the door, another knock sounded. The mages tensed again; Eris withdrew her collar while Gid grabbed the map, preparing to set it with other rolls of parchment, mostly containing plans for his tinkering. However, once Cai peered through the slats, he grinned, gave Eris and Gid the all-clear, and opened the door.
“Hello, Kalinda,” he said brightly. “Nice to see you out and about.”
Kali's forehead creased but she smiled at him. “You too, Cai.”
He winked at her, then shot Eris and Gid a wry look. “See you lot, later.”
Gid called a goodbye, then offered Kali a friendly smile. “What brings you out here?”
She slipped inside and glanced around the room with wide eyes. “Oh, this place is marvelous.” She peered through a propped up piece of glass, distorting her features. “You make all of this, yourself?”
“Don’t flatter him,” Eris warned. “It’ll go right to his head.”
Gideon laughed. “Aye, most of this junk is my doing.”
Kali held up a bronze buckle into the light. “Eris was right. You’re very good with metal.”
“One of my many talents,” he said with a nudge at Eris’ side.
Eris rolled her eyes but Kali chuckled, set the buckle down, and made her way toward them, limping carefully around the worktables and other clutter. She withdrew a small pouch from her pocket. “These are viol strings,” she said as she offered the pouch to Gideon. “My viol was broken on the journey here. I’ve managed to fix it, but I can’t do a thing with these. Metal’s just not my strength.”
Gideon examined the set of strings, running his fingertips across the curling, frayed ends before he sighed. “I’m sorry, Kali. If they were only snapped, I could probably do something, but they’re pretty badly warped. I think they’re too broken for even my magic to fix.”
Only because Eris knew her friend so well did she note the raw disappointment on Kali’s face, despite how she shrugged and accepted the strings as Gid handed them back. “Speaking of broken things, could you take a look at my knee now? I thought I'd remind you after Adrie's wine. I know I certainly don't remember much from that night.”
Gideon laughed aloud. “Aye, it was an eventful evening.” He slanted a knowing look toward Eris, then motioned to a stool beside the table that had held the map. “Have a seat and let me get a look at this pesky knee of yours. Maybe I can rig something up.”
As Kali settled awkwardly onto the stool and pulled her wool leggings above her left knee, Eris came over. “May I have a look as well?” she asked.
Kali nodded. Both Gideon and Eris closed their eyes and laid their hands upon Kali's knee, assessing the other mage's particles. In her mind's eye, Eris saw them as thousands upon thousands of tiny crimson specks, buzzing together in a thick mass that, if she were to mentally stand back, would take the shape of bones, muscle and blood, and all the other pieces that formed Kali's body. Many of the particles that made up the blood veins within Kali's knee joint were sluggish, moving in disharmony with one another, as if trying to pass through an opening that was too small.
There were a few spots where Eris could see evidence of Sadira's work; places where the particles of blood veins had been smoothed over, like a hand brushing across churned sand, allowing the blood to flow more freely. These spots still looked slightly inflamed and tender, but Eris thought that would fade in time.
“Ah, I see,” Gideon murmured. His voice brought Eris out of her trance; blinking, she met her husband's dark eyes as he also shook off the concentration that had been necessary to evaluate Kali's particles.
Eris recognized the gleam in his eyes. “Do you think...?”
“I know.”
Kali looked between them. “Those smiles mean good news, I hope.”
“Very good,” Gid told her. “Let me take some measurements, then we'll work on a design. If I can find some way to provide your knee with more support, it should take some of the strain off of your joint.”
Excitement fluttered in Eris' belly as Kali's mouth fell open in surprise.
Gid had already reached for a piece of string, a blank sheet of parchment, and a charcoal pencil. “It might not be comfortable at first,” he went on as he unfurled the parchment. “But we can add padding and tweak it until it's just right.”
Kali's voice was quiet. “I just want the pain to go away.”
Eris squeezed her shoulder. “It might never be gone, completely,” she said gently. “But I think Gid can supplement what Sadira's already done.”
Kali said nothing as she watched Gideon measure her knee with the string and make notations on his parchment. “You still can't do anything, can you?” Kali asked Eris, then flushed. “With my knee, I mean.”
Had they not known each other so well, Eris might have taken offense at the question. But as it was, she only sighed and shook her head. “No, I can only shape-change myself. I can manage a little healing on others, but it's very difficult.”
“Yes, I remember,” Kali replied. “I wondered if that had changed from when we were younger.”
A swell of bitterness rose within the back of Eris' throat. “No. After the hemies sent me here, I learned to keep my head down. For the most part,” she added with a sigh.
“Did you ever learn why they sent you away?” Kali asked.
“No one ever deigned to share that knowledge with me.”
“Nor me,” Kali said. “No matter how much I pestered Captain Jonas.” Her gaze went distant before she looked back at Eris. “I’m glad things worked out well for you here, but I did miss you terribly.”
Eris watched her husband scratch charcoal over the p
archment, lips moving in silent speech with his concentration. How many times had she started over? Hopefully Heartfire would be the last. “Me too.”
“There,” Gideon replied at last, setting down his tools and eyeing the parchment, where he'd sketched a crude brace. “Simple enough. Shouldn't take me more than a week or so, then we'll get it fitted to you. You'll have it in plenty of time for Heartfire.”
Kali's forehead creased. “The solstice celebration? Why does that matter?”
“Err…” Gideon shot Eris a sheepish look. “You haven't talked to her?”
“Not yet. But I suppose now's as good a time as any.” With reluctance, she slipped her collar back on, took Kali's arm, and urged her out of the workshop. “We'll chat a bit, then meet you at dinner,” she said over her shoulder.
Gid only grinned back, that big, beaming smile that made her sodding heart skip a beat. “I'll be waiting for you, love.”
***
At first, the two mages walked across the bastion in silence. After they passed the main building and the garden, Kali realized they were heading toward the yard where the animals were kept. Eris was taller and had a longer stride, so Kali tried to keep her own steps quick. But her knee burned, not only from another healing session with Sadira, but also from Gideon's prodding, and pain made her clumsy. She stubbed her toe on a root, her knee screamed in protest, and she nearly tumbled to the ground.
But Eris caught her before she fell and helped her to her feet. “Thank you,” Kali said, fighting back a yelp of pain. “Sorry about being so–”
“Don't.” Eris regarded her, green eyes serious. “It's bad today, isn't it?”
A flush of embarrassment swept through Kali, so she busied herself with dusting off her leggings, hoping to hide her emotion. “Whatever Sadira's doing is working, but it hurts something awful for the rest of the day. Tomorrow will be better.”
Catalyst Moon: Breach (Catalyst Moon Saga Book 2) Page 15
