The images ended with Liam’s tortured plea that the time for judgment come soon, no matter what the price. The crowd fell silent, then a woman’s voice rose from amidst the slaves.
“He saved my daughter...”
“And my son...”
“And you...” Marsh glanced at the accusatory tone and saw a woman pushing her way through the crowd toward Xavier.
He stood his ground, his eyes apprehensive.
“I...” he began as she reached him, flinching as she wrapped his arms around him.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice carrying to the crowd, “for keeping my Terry safe.”
“But...” he protested, and she released him to lay a finger against his lips.
“Ssshhh.”
“You’re surely not suggesting we forgive them!”
Before Master Envermet could reply, others turned to give an answer, their words lost in a jumble of voices. The protestor subsided.
“Fine, but when it all goes to Devastation and back, I’ll wield the blade.”
One of the guards turned to him. “And I will welcome it.”
The protestor’s mouth fell open and he snapped it shut, unsure of what to say.
Everyone fell silent as Roeglin dropped to his knees. Marsh sank down beside him, and he slipped his arm from around her shoulders. “I’ll be okay.”
“You need to sleep,” she murmured as Aisha’s cry of alarm split the air.
“Roeglin!” It was followed shortly after by shrieks of, “Put me down! Put me down! Put me down!” even as her father set her on her feet.
The crowd parted around the little girl as she raced for the stage, tearing past Terrence and an older woman heading in the same direction to reach him.
“I’ll fix it,” she told him, placing her hands on either side of his face. Her eyes glowed green before he could protest, and the crowd held its breath.
“Stop,” Roeglin muttered, then louder. “Aysh, stop. Gustav needs you.”
She pulled her hands from his face as though she’d been burned.
Her small voice rose in hope. “Gustav?”
Roeglin pushed to his feet. “Yes. We found him.”
“He ‘kay?”
“Kinda.”
Her voice rose again. “He’s not ‘kay?”
Roeglin knelt in front of her. “He will be okay.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“I see him?”
“Soon.”
“’Kay.”
Roeglin got back to his feet, and she slipped her hand into his. The crowd cheered, then subsided when Master Envermet raised his palm. Marsh wondered how the man was still standing, but the shadow master had more to say.
“Tomorrow morning, we are returning to the Four Caverns. Any who want to start over will be welcomed there, and we can provide you with escort and introductions. If you’re interested, be here, packed and ready to go, tomorrow morning.”
Murmurs rippled through his audience, and he waited for silence before adding, “You can bring only what you carry. We will be traveling as quickly as we can to the cavern entry, but there aren’t enough mules to go around. You’ll be walking. The choice is yours.”
This time when the whispers rose, he let them continue, watching as the crowd absorbed the news. When the questions came, he was ready.
“Who’s going to protect us from the remnant?”
“Marsh.”
At first, she thought he meant she’d be the one protecting them, but then she caught a flash of what he wanted. Mordan, I need you.
The kat came, causing a mixture of startled shouts and gasps of horror as she trotted out from between two buildings and leapt onto the stage to stand beside Marsh and roar a greeting.
“Showoff,” the shadow mage muttered.
“You’re telling us that that thing is going with us?” one of the women called from the crowd.
“Yes,” Master Envermet replied. “That is exactly what I am saying.”
“But what about the wolves?”
“They’ve granted us safe passage.”
“They’ve what?”
Master Envermet looked at Marsh and then at Aisha.
“They consider the druids among us to be pack. What we protect, they do, too.”
Marsh remembered asking Vi’s mother if she’d rather they’d left the children in the Devastation with the remnant and the wolves. That worthy was staring at the stage in surprise. Vi looked up at Marsh from beside her and smirked.
No doubt there’ll be a reckoning for that later, Marsh thought, and Roeglin slid his hand around her waist.
Don’t you have people to find? he asked, reminding her of the promises she’d made.
I do.
When Master Envermet stepped back, she stepped forward. The crowd threw curious looks in her direction.
“We have been chasing these raiders a long time,” she told them, “and I made some promises along the way. Could these people, if you’re here, please stay behind?”
The crowd stilled, and Marsh continued, “Claude Bisset, Aimery from Dimanche, the son of Monsieur Laberge of Dimanche.”
She paused, racking her brains for the next name. There had been so many. She remembered a distraught farmer being knocked out so he didn’t go into battle unarmed. “Sons of...Patrik Jeter...”
Mordan nudged her.
“And I need to know what happen to the hoshkits that were brought in, if anyone remembers.”
Silence followed, and Marsh felt obliged to fill it.
“Marius’s sister...” came to mind, followed by, “Henri’s brother. Arlin’s family.”
She stopped, and, again, silence greeted her.
“I’m sorry. That’s all I can remember.”
Master Envermet clapped his hands. “Meals will be taken together from now on,” he called. “If anyone has anything to add to the stores, please do. We’ll leave you to your preparations while we sleep. Terrence, Xavier, and Alain will settle any disputes.”
“We’re going to sleep?” Henri asked as the crowd began to disperse.
“We need to,” Master Envermet told him, “or we’ll never get them to safety.”
Marsh listened to the exchange as she sat on the edge of the stage, watching the crowd and hoping some of those she’d named were present. Roeglin lowered himself beside her. “Do you think they’ll come?”
“Some of them have to be here,” she told him as a woman with pale blonde hair and hazel eyes came to stand before her. She had her arm wrapped around the shoulders of a girl around Vi’s age, and her hand held tight to a boy as old as Aisha.
“Arlin’s family,” she said by way of greeting before asking, “Is he okay?”
What she was really asking was if her husband still lived, and Marsh nodded. “He’s waiting for you at Ariella’s Grotto. The community there has given him a place. Do you wish to join him?”
“Do we have a choice?” the woman’s tone was bitter, but Marsh nodded again.
“You can choose what you want, but the offer is there.”
“We’ll come,” the girl snapped. “They let him live and gave him a place.” Her voice softened. “Maybe they’ll do the same for us.”
When her mother remained silent, she gave Marsh a pleading look. “Will we be safe there?”
“They could have killed him and chose to let him live. I don’t see why not.”
“Then we’ll come.” The look she shot her mother was part defiance and part plea. “Won’t we, maman?”
The woman nodded. “What time tomorrow?”
“At dawn.”
“We don’t have much.”
Marsh looked out over the people slowly leaving the square.
“I don’t think anyone does.”
The woman followed her gaze and gave another nod. “We’ll be here.”
She turned away, the children following, but she’d only gone a few steps when she stopped and looked back. “Thank you.
”
As she moved away, a man with a shock of dark hair and the same vivid blue eyes as his daughter stepped up to take her place.
“Are Felicity and Claudette all right?” he asked.
“Yes, they’re waiting at the Ledge. You’re Claude Bisset?”
He nodded. “Is there anything else?”
Marsh shook her head. “No, I just wanted to make sure you were here.”
He frowned, then went to leave. “I’ll be in the stables if you need me. We’re going to want a way to carry supplies.” He frowned. “Who do I speak to to work that out?”
“Us,” Henri announced, coming down off the stage with Jakob at his side. He jerked a thumb at Alain, Terrence, and Xavier, who wandered over to stand close by. “And them.”
A commotion erupted from beyond the square, and Marsh sighed and slid to her feet. As she did, she caught sight of two boys approaching. They were in their middle teens, and their features were almost familiar. The taller of the two stepped forward to block her path.
“Papa sent you?”
Marsh gave him a puzzled look, then recognized him. He had the same chiseled features as his father and the same concerned blue eyes. “You’re Patrik Jeter’s sons?”
They nodded, their faces pale. The shorter one shot her an angry look. “What of it?”
He reminded her of Tamlin when the boy had refused to be left again, and Marsh thought she knew why.
“We had to knock him out to stop him going back,” she told him, and the boy’s eyes widened. Marsh continued, “He fought like a hoshkat to get to you.”
“He did?” The older boy looked like he hardly believed it.
“How do you know?” the younger boy challenged.
“Because I was there,” Marsh replied. She didn’t think telling them their father had saved her when he hadn’t been able to save them would be a good idea.
Hope flared in the older boy’s eyes. “Did he really send you?”
“The only way to keep him with your mother and sisters was to promise I’d find you.”
“You made him stay?” The younger boy was incensed.
His brother took his arm. “She had to.”
“But Pa can fight!”
“Which was why I left him with your mother,” Marsh told him. “I had plenty of warriors, but she had none, and I wanted you to have a family to go back to.”
That silenced them, so she changed the subject. “Who are you staying with?”
They looked at each other and shrugged.
“They can stay with me,” Alain told her, then added, “if they want to. I could do with some help riding herd on these.”
He indicated his children.
“Fine,” the younger brother agreed, “but only until we’re needed somewhere else.”
Alain gave him a gentle smile. “Deal.”
The commotion got louder, and Marsh stepped around the two boys. Master Envermet and Brigitte were already hurrying across the square. Marsh and Roeglin followed them.
We’re gonna have to stop soon, Roeglin observed, and Marsh noticed the fatigue dragging at her limbs.
As soon as we take care of this, she promised and yawned.
He laughed, sobering abruptly when they rounded the side of a building and saw the scene before them.
The man who’d protested against forgiving the raiders was trying to pull a box of vegetables out of a woman’s hands, while another man stood over a man in a guard’s uniform, trying to pull the blade free of its scabbard.
This was made harder by the girl swinging off his arm. “You leave my dad alone.”
At her words, Roeglin’s eyes flashed white.
He’s going to kill him!
Marsh didn’t hesitate. As the man jerked his arm free, throwing the girl to the cobbles, she called a single bolt of lightning.
In the clear light of day, it was invisible, although the smell of a pending storm and the sizzle of energy around them was not. Nor was the sharp CRACK! as the unshadowed air gave her what she asked.
The girl shrieked as the man attacking her father fell to the side. She ran forward, kicking and pushing his body away so she could check the guard.
“Papa! Papa!”
The protestor let go of the box, and the unexpected weight caused it to slide free of the woman’s hands. “Drew!”
It took him no time at all to realize his partner was dead. He turned to Marsh, horrified. “What did you do?”
Marsh touched the energy, drawing it into a crackling ball above them so traces of lightning flickered through the clear air. “There will be no murder,” she replied.
Shock ran over the man’s features. “But he wasn’t. We were just...”
“Stealing,” the woman finished for him and nodded toward Roeglin. “That man knew what your friend was planning. You and your friend are no better than the masters Below.”
“At least we didn’t serve them,” the man spat, rounding on her with his fist clenched.
Mordan hit him from the side, knocking him to the ground and pinning him there, a growl rumbling from her throat. The woman nudged him with her bare toe.
“We were just as much slaves as the rest of you.” She picked up the box he’d dropped, “and I was packing this for the kitchens so everyone can share it.”
She stooped to gather the spilled vegetables, flinching away from another woman who came to help. “Let me help,” she said, handing over what she’d gathered. “I’m Marta, by the way.”
Master Envermet shot a frustrated glance at Marsh, then looked at the shocked bystanders. “I hope the message is clear,” he told them. “We are here to protect you. All of you, no matter who you are or what you’ve done, and there is no place for any more evil than what’s been done. You need to start again.”
He watched as the guard stirred and slowly sat up, hugging his daughter to his chest as he struggled to his feet. “Tell them why,” he ordered, and the guard gently set his child aside.
“I’ll show them,” he managed, clutching his chest as he walked back to the house. Opening the door, he stopped and gave three short whistles. Holding the door open, he waited, looking just as anxious as the rest of them. Once a few minutes had passed and the crowd had begun to grow restless, three women emerged.
“Gretha!” someone cried from the crowd, hurrying forward to hug the youngest.
“Alicia! Oh, thank the Deeps.” Another person came forward, and tears were shed in relieved reunion.
There was no shout of recognition at the third, but Marsh saw Aisha in the woman’s bright blue eyes and the blonde hair dulled by dirt. She wondered where the children were.
With Gustav, Roeglin told her. And their father is making sure Patrik’s sons have somewhere to sleep.
He swayed, and she wrapped an arm around his waist. Do we know her name?
I... Wait one, Roeglin began, but Marsh nudged him. “I’ll just ask,” she told him and stepped forward.
The guard moved to interpose himself between them, and Marsh halted. Ignoring him, she spoke to the woman. “You’re Aisha’s mother, aren’t you?”
The reaction was instantaneous. The woman lifted her head, hope lighting her eyes. “Yes?”
“They’re this way,” she said and the guard relaxed, standing aside so Marsh could offer the woman her hand.
“Thank you, Evan,” Aisha’s mother said, laying a gentle hand on his back. “I will speak for you.”
She hesitated, but Master Envermet stepped forward. “You go, Calantha,” he instructed. “I’ll stand with Evan while he explains.”
As curious as she was to hear the story, Marsh left, taking Roeglin with her and hoping the mage knew exactly where the children were.
27
Journey Impending
“It’s no good,” Master Envermet told them. He glanced at Obasi. “Have any of your people had any luck?”
The Grotto warrior shook his head. “We think it’s the distance,” he answered, “and something t
o do with the rock in this area.”
They looked out over the Devastation. The ruins stretched as far as the eye could see, overgrown by trees and bushes. In the distance to the south, they glimpsed water, as if a great river wound through the middle.
Master Envermet glanced at Marsh. “You’re right. It does look like it goes on forever.”
She nodded, still tired, but nowhere near as exhausted as she’d been. She and Roeglin had woken to a delegation of townsfolk waiting for them, with the request they delay another day.
There were people who wanted to make a go of it right where they were.
“Someone has to keep an eye on the Library,” they argued.
Master Envermet was about to deny the request when Xavier spoke up.
“You haven’t dealt with the threat yet,” he insisted. “For all we know, there’s an army of monsters just waiting to emerge from the cells.”
“We cleared the cells,” Master Envermet informed him.
The man exchanged glances with a man in tattered guard’s clothes, one that Marsh remembered taking from the cells the day before.
“Tell them,” Xavier instructed, but Master Envermet held up his hand.
“How about you show me?” he suggested. “If you are willing?”
The man swallowed nervously, his eyes too large in his skeletally thin face, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing. “Will it hurt?”
Master Envermet shook his head. “It shouldn’t. Why?”
“Their mage made it feel like nails being driven into your mind, or sandpaper scraping through.”
Master Envermet’s face hardened. “Did we kill him?”
Again, the man’s throat moved, and he nodded.
“Good.” Master Envermet came and stood before him. “May I look?”
The man closed his eyes. “Take what you need.”
To Marsh’s surprise, Master Envermet took the guard’s face in his hands and touched his head, forehead to forehead with the man. “Show me what you saw down there.”
It was obvious when the man obeyed because Master Envermet’s teeth clenched and he closed his eyes. His face grew gaunt and haggard, but he stayed. The sun had moved higher in the sky by the time he was done.
“We’ll delay another day,” he said simply when he pulled away, and both Xavier and his friend relaxed. “Who else feels they should stay?”
Trading Into Daylight (The Magic Below Paris Book 6) Page 21
