“So I don’t have a choice,” she said.
Life had beaten her down, and he was sure he could bully her into doing what he wanted. He hated the nobles for their tendency to coerce, though. What kind of blasted hypocrite would he be if he forced her to join him?
“No,” he said. “You can continue on as before, living in Calkirk. They’ll help you, now. Or if you want to be a mage but don’t want to serve me, you can go to the duke or the queen. It’s a risk, but I’d bet they’d welcome you with open arms. They’ll need a bunch of mages if they want to kill me, much less stand against Barius.”
“You’d just let me go?”
“It’s your choice.”
Jo nodded and rose from the log. Without so much as looking back, she walked toward the woods.
Xan stared at her retreating figure, wanting to call out to her. Shout at her. Order her. Beg her. Whatever would make her stay.
But his conscience wouldn’t let him do that.
He could only watch as she got farther and farther away. She stepped behind a tall bush, almost disappearing from sight.
Xan still didn’t move from his spot.
“You’ll really let me go?” she said.
“Yes.”
She stood still for a long while before walking back to him. “I guess that only a good man would give me the choice. I’m not sure I can do what you ask, but I’ll try.”
30.
Xan walked with Jo back to his camp.
He’d rather have flown both of them, but considering she’d literally jumped when he’d ignited a fire on a torch, she was too skittish for him to broach the topic. By the time they reached Hosea’s campfire, Xan was tired and hungry. If he’d thought life would suddenly be easy because he’d declared himself a high muckety-muck, he was mistaken.
Fortunately, Ada had kept dinner warm for him. Even more fortunately, she took Jo off his hands. Considering the girl’s assumptions about his intentions, finding her a place to sleep nowhere near him was a high priority, and Ada couldn’t have been nicer to the girl, treating her like a long-lost daughter. Jo alternated between being overwhelmed by all the attention and filled with joy over being with a real family again.
At the end of the meal, Hosea walked Xan back to his camping spot. “I reckon you got something on your mind, my lord.”
Xan shrugged.
“Is it because the first mage you found was a girl, my lord?”
Hosea was a dog with a bone when trying to get a question answered, just like Master Rae had been.
“The probability is that my mage force will be half men and half women,” Xan said.
“But you’re not used to such, my lord?”
“Maybe I’m just annoyed that you insist on blasted calling me ‘my lord.’ ”
Hosea grinned.
“Where I’m from,” Xan said, “it’s not uncommon for a woman to be a merchant’s guard or a mercenary. Not much difference between that and being one of my mages.”
“But?”
Xan sighed. “There will be battles, and I will lose some of them—men and women.”
If he lasted a year without getting himself and everyone else killed, he’d count it as possible proof the Holy One actually existed.
“I hate the thought of anyone dying because of me.” Xan paused. “Even ones who deserve it.”
“Like the mayor and the militia captain in Calkirk, my lord?”
Xan winced at the “ah-hah” in Hosea’s voice. “You heard about that?”
“Aye, my lord. You frightened those city folk but good.”
“By killing two men in cold blood.”
“With respect, my lord, I reckon you’ve killed before.”
“In combat. When it was necessary. Never anything like that.”
“So you killed them two just because you was mad, my lord?”
“Of course not!”
“Because you wanted to?”
“No!”
“Bored? To show off? Make a girl like you? For the fun of it? Their clothes were a bad color, my lord?”
Xan glared at him. “You know me better than that. Justice demanded those men be punished, and I was the only one who could do it.”
Hosea shrugged. “Sounds like it was necessary, my lord.”
“Did Calkirk send over the wagons?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Good. At least Xan wouldn’t have to execute anyone else tomorrow. Hopefully.
“Over the next several days, I’ll be checking refugees and sending them to Calkirk,” Xan said. “We need folks for our new city. Take your pick of the litter.”
“How many, my lord?”
“Let’s see …” Xan chewed the inside of his cheek. “The next leg of the trip will take seven to ten days. By that time, I plan to have enough gold to buy the supplies we need. I guess, then, we’re limited by how many we can support between now and then with the food we have now.”
“Aye, my lord.”
* * *
Xan sat on a log in a clearing.
He bade the two women with him to do the same.
Most of the day had been spent checking over four hundred refugees, and he’d only found a single potential mage, Tina Hurst. She and Jo comprised the entire results of twenty-two hours of searching.
And they weren’t even actual mages, yet. Converting them wasn’t likely to be an easy task, either. Dylan and Brant had required their lives being at stake to surge.
He glanced at the two of them, a study in contrast. The tall, slender, light-haired Jo was nervous, her eyes wide and hands shaking. The best word to describe her was timid. Definitely not who he’d have chosen as his first recruit.
Tina, on the other hand, was short, a bit rotund, and dark complexioned. Her dominant emotion was anger, though thankfully not at Xan. A newlywed turned widow, her husband had been killed by bandits not a week past. She’d jumped at the chance to gain a semblance of real power.
Neither was in any way trained or prepared for using magic or going into combat or in any of the things he so desperately needed. On the plus side, his fledgling force now numbered three, half the number Asher had when Xan had left. A start, at least.
After explaining the difference between the ability to become a mage and the ability to connect to the magic source, he said, “I aim to forge a bargain between me and each of you. I get the troops I need and, in return, vow not to risk your lives unnecessarily and to fight for what is best for all mages, not for my personal glory or gain. You get power and wealth and, in return, must vow to serve me either until all mages are safe from execution or subjugation or until we’ve all died trying to achieve that end.”
“Power and wealth?” Jo said. “You … uh, you’re wearing …”
His clothes, the same tunic and pants he’d worn when the duke had arrested him, had seen better days.
“I know I look like a pauper. Live like a pauper. You have no reason to believe I can give you anything I promise.” He paused significantly. “Except … maybe … because of this!”
Xan launched himself a hundred feet high. At the apex of his flight, he ignited his clothes, forcing the flames to burn magic instead of cloth. He amplified the roaring of the blaze, and both women covered their ears with their hands.
Using much the same technique as when he hovered, he descended, allowing himself to fall more than he rose with each microburst. To the women, he must have looked like a slowly falling ball of fire.
Once his feet hit the ground, he extinguished the flames. His clothes were singed but otherwise undamaged.
“You, Jo, will fly like I can, and you, Tina, will manipulate sound as I did to hurt or incapacitate your enemies.”
Both their eyes were wide.
“As soon as I’m able,” Xan said, “I’ll provide you with all the trappings. Money. Clothes. Food. Servants. Pretty much if you want it and I can get it, you’ll have it.”
Jo relaxed slightly. Tina’s heated expression didn’t ch
ange.
“This is your last chance to back out,” Xan said. “If you leave now, there will be no reprisals. I’ll even give you what coin and supplies I can spare. Once you surge, though, there’s no going back. You will be my mage, or you will be a dead mage.”
His heart pounded as he waited for a response. If they backed out, his goal of establishing a nation where people weren’t subject to the whims of a noble might die before it even got started.
“You’ve promised to give me a small measure of revenge on the people who killed Thom, my lord wizard,” Tina said. “If you uphold your end of the bargain, I’ll do whatever you want.”
Xan turned to Jo.
“I guess … uh, my lord,” she said.
In different circumstances, he would have told her that wasn’t good enough, but given his need, he’d take it. The important thing was that they’d committed to him.
“The next step,” he said, “is for you to become actual mages, and if we had time, I’d try to find a gentle, safe way to do that.”
Jo wrung her hands. “There’s a non-gentle, non-safe way, my lord?”
Xan ran a hand through his hair. “Please understand the situation we’re in. Powerful enemies surround us. By now, Duke Asher surely has more mages than I can handle alone. Dastanar … I don’t know their strength, but I fear that my power is but a bucket compared to their ocean. There’s so much to accomplish. Recruiting more mages. Founding a city that will support us through the winter. Resources. Goods. People. The list overwhelms me. The only way I see forward is to have your help, and for that, I need you both to become mages. Fast.”
He grimaced. “But fast means dangerous. The more you want to use magic, the easier the magic will flow through you, so I need you to really want it.”
“Which means … putting our lives in danger, my lord?” Jo said.
“Unfortunately,” Xan said. “That is the best way.”
Jo’s breathing quickened again, and she had to put her head between her legs until she calmed. Even Tina looked taken aback.
“I’m so sorry,” Xan said. “If I had any other choice …”
“It’s okay, my lord wizard,” Tina said. “We understand. Don’t we?”
Jo managed a curt nod that looked anything but convincing.
Best for her to go first, then. If she had to watch Tina, she’d probably back out. Besides, creating a situation for a kineticist to surge required little imagination.
“Okay, Jo,” Xan said. “Ready?”
She nodded again. Slowly. Weakly.
“I’m going to do something really, really scary to you,” Xan said. “Wish with all your might to be safe, and you’ll be fine.”
“But if I don’t, my lord,” Jo said, “I’ll die?”
“Yes.”
Xan so wanted to be ruthless. To defeat the forces arrayed against him, he needed to be ruthless. But he simply wasn’t ruthless.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” he said. “If you don’t want to do this, you can still walk away.”
She eyed the woods in the direction of Calkirk before setting her jaw. “Just do it. Uh … please, my lord.”
Xan grabbed her under her arms and propelled himself upward. A good half-mile high, he stopped pouring on the power. Momentum carried them higher until, for an instant, they hung in the air, halfway between rising but not falling yet.
“Good luck,” Xan said.
He let go of her.
31.
Xan plummeted toward the ground.
He spread his arms and legs to stabilize his fall.
Jo tumbled head over foot beside him, her face frozen into a mask of horror.
“Look at me!” he yelled.
When her wide eyes happened to tilt toward him, there was no glimmer of recognition for either him or her situation. Only blind panic.
He magically pushed himself down to within a dozen yards of her. “You can do it, Jo. Please. Concentrate!”
She gave no indication she knew he existed, much less that she would follow his instructions.
The ground drew closer by the instant. Her remaining lifespan could be measured in minutes.
“Make a wish!” he yelled. “A miracle to save you.”
His methodology was sound. Deep desire triggered surges, and most people had no greater desire than saving themselves from death.
But Jo still fell.
Nothing about her struck him as mentally tough, and she’d had a rough time of things. Maybe she was so overwhelmed by falling that her mind froze. Which meant she couldn’t save herself.
Blast it! He’d pushed her too far, too fast. She was going to die, and it was his fault.
They were only a couple hundred yards above the ground. If she didn’t surge soon …
He stared at her face, searching for any sign she would come out of her stupor.
Nothing. Just a blank stare.
Was he really just going to watch her plunge to her death? All he had to do was apply a little magic to stop her fall. Reverse her momentum and let her land, soft as a feather.
But if he saved her, she’d never trust that he’d go through with killing her. She’d never surge. And Tina was watching, meaning she’d never believe her life was on the line, either.
He needed mages, but was he willing to kill to get them?
“Jo! Snap out of it. Please, please concentrate.”
Evening out her fall might help. Let her focus only on saving herself instead of the disorienting sensation of spinning.
He applied a few microbursts, and she stopped tumbling, hurtling face first toward the rapidly approaching ground instead.
She screamed, emitting a desperate, plaintive, wordless howl.
“Jo! Jo! Concentrate! You can still do it!”
No response or even a hint she’d heard him.
He’d only made things worse. Before he’d stopped her spinning, she’d been too overwhelmed to know what was happening. Because of his intervention, she’d die terrified.
Saving her was the right thing to do.
But her story would spread. Recruits would know he didn’t mean it when he threatened their lives. Surging would be made harder. Fewer mages would be converted.
And fewer mages made it more likely Dastanar would win.
He’d be killed. His friends would be killed.
Tasia would be killed.
And Dastanar was a totalitarian state. Royalty ruled with an iron fist. Commoners lived as little more than slaves, subject to the depraved whims of the nobility.
Bermau and Kaicia would fare no better under King Barius’ rule.
Standing against evil to protect tens of thousands of people outweighed the life of one girl, right?
He closed his eyes. Jo was on her own.
Not that his rationalizations made him feel any better. Any way he sliced it, he was a complete ass. Her horrified face would always be etched into his memory.
Magic told him the ground was close. He hovered for a moment.
Jo screamed again.
Xan tensed. The thud of her hitting the ground wouldn’t be long coming. It was almost too late for her to recover.
He was going to let her die.
But he couldn’t.
He opened his eyes. Only mere feet between her and the ground and, at her velocity, reversing momentum would kill her as easily as impact would.
His only choice was a series of microbursts. She jerked upward. Again and again and again.
Thud!
A hard landing. Face first. But not a fatal one.
She groaned.
Xan breathed a sigh and lowered himself to stand beside her prone form. “You’ll be fine, but this will help.” He poured life magic into her.
After a while, she rose, crying uncontrollably.
He yearned to do something—anything—to help her, but he’d healed her injuries. Physically, she was fine. But still she cried, and his helplessness was one of the most awful sensations he
’d experienced.
So he just stood there, awkwardly watching, impotent, as tears rolled down her face.
Tina approached and put an arm around the younger girl, and several minutes later Jo’s sobs finally subsided.
She looked forlorn, like she’d have been better off if she’d died. “I failed, my lord.”
“I’m afraid so.”
A sob burst from her throat, and Tina tightened her grip, glaring at Xan.
“Wh-what should I do now, my lord?” Jo said. “G-go to Calkirk?”
Probably the best option for Xan’s purposes. Not having her around might minimize how far her story spread. If he could swear Tina to silence …
But prospects for an unmarried refugee weren’t great.
“I’d like you to stay with me, if you don’t mind,” he said. “You’ll be treated as one of the mages.”
“I-I don’t want charity, my lord.”
“You are still a potential mage, and I need all those I can get. I just have to figure out how to draw a flow out of you, but that’s my problem, not yours.”
“You’re … you’re sure?” Jo said.
“Of course.” He smiled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Her face lightened. “Thank you, my lord!” She curtsied.
“Go back to Ada’s fire,” he said. “Have Marco mix you valerian tea to calm you.”
As Jo left, Xan turned his attention to Tina, who’d watched the whole proceeding. She showed little emotion, as usual, but she had to know her life wouldn’t actually be put in danger.
If he somehow got her to surge, it would be a miracle.
32.
Xan gritted his teeth.
He’d experienced a setback. There was no reason to expect he wouldn’t encounter problems. Master Rae taught him to determine solutions instead of wallowing in failure.
Xan set his jaw. He needed a plan for getting Tina to surge.
Hmm.
She was the opposite of Jo in every way. Wanted the power. If he put her in a scary enough situation, the fright and her desire might be enough to bring out the magic.
Worth a shot.
“Your turn,” he said.
Gryphon (Rise of the Mages Book 2) Page 20
