“Go ahead,” Marrok said, meeting my gaze.
Pain lingered in his blue-gray eyes. His short gray hair had turned completely white since Cahil’s attack.
Granting me permission was enough to convince me of his sincerity, but despite his good intentions he still wanted to build an army and attack Ixia. And that ran counter to what I believed. Ixia and Sitia just needed to understand each other and work together. A war would help no one.
Do I leave Marrok here to influence the Council toward an attack, or take him with me? His skills as a tracker would be an added benefit.
“If I allow you to come with us, you must obey all my orders. Agreed?” I asked.
Marrok straightened as if he stood in a military formation. “Yes, sir.”
“Are you strong enough to ride?”
“Yes, but I don’t have a horse.”
“That’s all right. I’ll find you a Sandseed horse. All you’ll need to do is hold on.” I grinned, thinking of Kiki’s special gust-of-wind gait.
Leif laughed and his body relaxed with the release of the tension. “Good luck convincing the Stable Master to loan you his horse.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Garnet is the only other horse in the Keep’s stables bred by the Sandseeds.”
I wilted in defeat just thinking about the stubborn, cranky Stable Master. Now what? No other horse breed would be able to keep up with us.
Honey, Kiki said in my mind.
Honey?
Avibian honey. Chief Man love honey.
Which meant, if I offered to bring some Avibian honey back for the Stable Master, he might lend me his horse.
We left the Citadel through the south gate and headed down the valley road. Farm fields peppered with corn stubble and wagon ruts swept out from the right side of the road. The Avibian Plains dominated the left side.
The long grasses of the plains had turned from yellow and red to brown in the cold weather. The rains created extensive puddles, transforming the rolling landscape into a marshland and scenting the air with a damp smell of earthy decay.
Leif rode Rusalka, and Marrok had a death grip on Garnet’s reins. His nervousness affected the tall horse, who jittered to the side at every noise.
Kiki slowed so I could talk to him. “Marrok, relax. I’m the one who promised to bring back a case of Avibian honey plus clean the Stable Master’s tack for three weeks.”
He barked out a laugh but kept his tight grip.
Time to switch tactics. I reached for the blanket of power hovering over the world and pulled a thread of magic, linking my mind with Garnet’s. The horse missed Chief Man and didn’t like this stranger on his back, but he settled when I showed him our destination.
Home, Garnet agreed. He wanted to go. Pain.
Marrok’s rigid hold hurt Garnet’s mouth, and I knew Marrok wouldn’t relax even if I threatened to leave him behind. Sighing, I made light contact with Marrok’s mind. His worry and fear focused more on Cahil than on himself. His apprehension came from not feeling in control of the powerful horse underneath him despite the fact that he held Garnet’s reins. And also from not being in charge of the situation, having to take orders from her.
A dark undercurrent to his thoughts about me pulled a warning bell in my mind, and I would have liked to explore deeper. He had given me permission to see his memories of Cahil, but he hadn’t given me carte blanche to probe. Instead, I sent him some calming thoughts. Even though he couldn’t hear my words he should be able to react to the soothing tone.
After a while, Marrok no longer held himself so rigid, and his body moved with Garnet’s motion. When Garnet felt comfortable, Kiki turned east into the plains. Mud splashed from her hooves as she increased her pace. I gave Leif and Marrok the signal to let the horses have control.
Please find Moon Man. Fast, I said to Kiki.
With a slight hop, she broke into her gust-of-wind gait. Rusalka and Garnet followed. I felt carried by a river of air. The plains blurred under Kiki’s hooves at a rate about twice a full-speed gallop.
Only Sandseed horses could achieve this gait, and only when they rode in the Avibian Plains. It had to be a magical skill, but I couldn’t tell if Kiki pulled power. I would have to ask Moon Man about it when we found him.
The plains encompassed a massive section of eastern Sitia. Located to the southeast of the Citadel, it stretched all the way to the base of the Emerald Mountains in the east, and down to the Daviian Plateau to the south.
On a normal horse, it took about five to seven days to cross the plains. The Sandseeds were the only clan to live within the borders, and their Story Weavers had shielded their lands with a powerful protective magic. Any stranger who ventured into the plains without Sandseed permission became lost. The magic would confuse the stranger’s mind and he would travel in circles until he either stumbled out of the plains or ran out of water and died.
Magicians with strong powers could travel without being affected by the magic, but the Story Weavers always knew when someone crossed into their land. As distant cousins of the Sandseeds, the Zaltana Clan members could also travel the plains unharmed. The other clans avoided the area altogether.
Since Marrok rode on a Sandseed horse the protection didn’t attack him and we were able to ride all night. Kiki finally stopped for a rest at sunrise.
While Leif collected firewood, I rubbed the horses down and fed them. Marrok helped Leif, but I could see exhaustion etched in his pale face.
The rain and sleet had slowed during the night, but gray clouds sealed the sky. Our campsite had plenty of grass for the horses. It was on a high spot in the plains next to a rocky out-cropping with a few scrub trees growing nearby, and was a solid place for us to stand without sinking ankle-deep into the mud.
Our cloaks were soaked, so I tied my rope between two trees to hang the wet garments. Leif and Marrok found a few dry branches. Making a tent of the twigs, Leif stared at the wood and small flames sprang to life.
“Show-off,” I said.
He smiled as he filled a pot with water for tea. “You’re jealous.”
“You’re right. I am.” I growled in frustration. Leif and I were both born to the same parents, yet we had different magical powers. Our father, Esau, had no overt magic, just a flair for finding and using the plants and trees of the jungle for food, medicines and his inventions. Perl, our mother, could only sense if a person had magical abilities.
So how did Leif get the magical abilities to light fires and sense a person’s life force while I could affect their souls? With my magic, I could force Leif to light a fire, but couldn’t do it on my own. I wondered if anyone in Sitian history had studied the relationship between magic and birth parents. Bain Bloodgood, Second Magician, would probably know. He owned a copy of almost every book in Sitia.
Marrok fell asleep as soon as we finished eating our breakfast of bread and cheese. Leif and I remained by the fire.
“Did you put something in his tea?” I asked.
“Some fiddlewood bark to help him heal.”
Wrinkles and scars lined Marrok’s face. Through the yellowed bruises along his jaw, I spotted some white stubble. His swollen eye oozed blood and tears. Red streaks painted his right cheek. Healer Hayes hadn’t allowed me to help with Marrok’s recovery. He had only let me assist with minor injuries. Another who feared my powers.
I touched Marrok’s forehead. His skin felt hot and dry. The fetid smell of rotten flesh emanated from him. I reached for the power source and felt the Sandseeds’ protective magic watching me for signs of threat. Gathering magic, I projected a thread to him, revealing the muscles and bone underneath Marrok’s skin. His injuries pulsed with a red light. His cheekbone had been shattered and some bone fragments had gotten into his eye, affecting his vision. Small dark growths of an infection dotted the ruined area.
I concentrated on the injury until his pain transferred to my own face. A sharp needle of pain stabbed my right eye as my vision dulled
and tears welled. Curling into a ball, I pushed against the onslaught, channeling the magic from the power source through my body. The flow chugged, and I strained. All of a sudden the current of magic moved with ease as if someone had removed a beaver’s dam, washing away the pain. Relief swept through me. I relaxed.
“Do you think that was a good idea?” Leif asked when I opened my eyes.
“The wound was infected.”
“But you used all your energy.”
“I…” I sat up, feeling tired but not exhausted. “I—”
“Had help,” a voice snapped out of nowhere.
Leif jerked upright in surprise, but I recognized the deep masculine tone. Moon Man appeared next to the fire as if he had formed from the rising heat and ashes. His bald head gleamed in the sunlight.
In deference to the chill, Moon Man wore a long-sleeved tan tunic and dark brown pants that matched the color of his skin, but no shoes.
“No paint?” I asked Moon Man. The first time I had met him he had coalesced out of a beam of moonlight covered only with indigo dye. He had claimed to be my Story Weaver and proceeded to show me my life’s story and unlocked my childhood memories. Six years of living with my mother, father and brother had been suppressed by a magician named Mogkan so I wouldn’t long for my family after Mogkan had kidnapped me.
Moon Man smiled. “I did not have time to cover my skin. And it is a good thing I came when I did.” His tone conveyed his displeasure. “Or you would have spent all your strength.”
“Not all,” I countered, sounding like a belligerent child.
“Have you become an all-powerful Soulfinder already?” He widened his eyes in mock amazement. “I will bow down before you, Oh Great One.” He bent at the waist.
“All right, enough,” I said, laughing. “I should have thought it through before healing Marrok. Happy now?”
He sighed dramatically. “I would be content if I thought you learned a lesson and would not do it again. However, I am well aware that you will continue to rush right into situations. It is weaved into your life’s pattern. There is no hope for you.”
“Is that why you sent for me? To tell me I’m hopeless?”
Moon Man sobered. “I wish. We had heard that the Soulstealer had escaped from the Magician’s Keep with Cahil’s help. One of our Story Weavers scouting in the Daviian Plateau sensed a stranger traveling with one of the Vermin.”
“Are Cahil and Ferde in the plateau?” Leif asked.
“We think so, but we want Yelena to identify the Soulstealer.”
“Why?” I asked. The Sandseeds didn’t waste time on trials and incarceration. They executed criminals on capture.
However, the Daviian Vermin had been very hard to find, and they had powerful magicians. The Vermin were a group of Sandseed youths who had become discontented with the Sandseed lifestyle of keeping to themselves and limiting contact with the other clans. The Vermin wanted the Sandseed Story Weavers to use their great powers to guide all of Sitia and not just the inhabitants of the plains.
They had broken from the Sandseed Clan and settled in the Daviian Plateau, becoming the Daviian Clan. The plateau’s dry and inhospitable soil made farming a nightmare, so the Daviians stole from the Sandseeds, and earned the nickname of Vermin. The Sandseeds also referred to the Vermin’s magicians as Warpers, since they used their magic for selfish reasons.
“You need to identify the Soulstealer because he may have harvested more souls, and only you can release those souls before we kill him,” Moon Man said with a flat and emotionless voice.
I grabbed his arm. “Have you found any bodies?”
“No. But I am concerned about what we will discover when we raid their camp.”
The horror of the last two seasons threatened to overwhelm me. Eleven girls mutilated and raped by Ferde so he could steal their souls and gain more magical power. Valek and I had stopped him before he could collect the final soul. If he had succeeded, Sitia and Ixia would now be his to rule. Instead, I had released all those souls to the sky. To think that he might have started again was unbearable.
“You’ve found their camp?” Leif asked.
“Yes. We put our lives on hold,” Moon Man said. “The warriors of the clan have done a complete sweep of the plateau. We found a large encampment on the southern edge near the border of the Illiais Jungle.”
And close to my family. I must have gasped because Moon Man touched my shoulder and squeezed.
“Do not worry about your clan. Every Sandseed warrior is ready to attack if the Vermin show any signs of departing their camp. We will leave when the horses are rested.”
I paced around the campfire, knowing I should get some sleep but unable to still my racing thoughts. Leif groomed the horses and Marrok slept. Moon Man reclined next to the fire, staring at the sky.
Marrok woke as the sky darkened. His eye had stopped weeping blood, and the swelling was gone. He probed his cheek with a finger. Amazement lit his face until he spotted Moon Man standing next to him. He jumped to his feet and pulled his sword, brandishing the weapon at the Story Weaver. Even armed, Marrok looked slight next to the muscular Sandseed, who towered six inches over him.
Moon Man laughed. “I see you are feeling better. Come. We have plans to make.”
The four of us sat around the fire while Leif made dinner. Marrok settled next to me, and from the corner of my eye I could see that whenever Marrok touch his cheek, he stared at Moon Man with a fearful fascination. And his right hand never strayed far from the hilt of his sword.
“We will leave at dawn,” Moon Man said.
“Why does everything have to start at dawn?” I asked. “The horses have good night vision.”
“That will give the horses a full day to recover. I will be riding with you on Kiki. She is the strongest. And once we reach the plateau, there will be no rest stops until we join the others.”
“And then what?” I asked.
“Then we will attack. You are to stay close to me and the other Story Weavers. The Soulstealer will be protected along with the Warpers. Once we break through the outer guards, then the hard part begins.”
“Dealing with the Warpers,” I said.
He nodded.
“Can’t you move the Void again?” Leif asked.
The Void was a hole in the power blanket where no magic existed. The last time the Sandseeds had uncovered a Vermin hideout, it had been protected by a shield of magic that created an illusion. The camp appeared to be occupied by only a few warriors. When the Sandseeds had moved the Void over the Vermin, the illusion was broken. Unfortunately, the encampment held four times the number of soldiers, and we had been vastly outnumbered.
“They are aware of that trick and will be alerted to our presence if we try to move the power blanket,” Moon Man said.
“Then how are you going to beat the Warpers?” I asked, worried. If the Vermin had access to magic it would be a difficult battle.
“All the Sandseed Story Weavers will link together and form a strong magical net that will seize them and prevent them from using their magic. We will hold them long enough for you to find the Soulstealer.”
Breaking his silence, Marrok asked, “What about Cahil?”
“He helped the Soulstealer escape. He should be punished,” Moon Man said.
“The Council wants to talk to him,” I said.
“And then they will decide what to do with him,” Leif added.
Moon Man shrugged. “He is not a Vermin. I will tell the others not to kill him, but in a large battle it might be hard.”
“He’s probably with the Daviian leaders,” Marrok said.
“Marrok—you and Leif find Cahil and take him north of the fighting and I’ll rendezvous with you after the battle.”
“Yes, sir,” Marrok said.
Leif nodded, but I could see a question in his eyes.
Problem? I asked in his mind.
What if Cahil convinces Marrok not to take him back to the Council? What i
f they join together and I’m outnumbered?
Good point. I’ll ask Moon Man to—
Assign one of my warriors to stay with Leif, Moon Man said.
I jerked in surprise. I hadn’t felt Moon Man draw power to link with us.
What else can you do? I asked.
I am not telling you. It would destroy my mysterious Story Weaver persona.
The next morning we saddled the horses and made our way south toward the plateau. Even with the weight of two riders, Kiki easily carried us. Stopping only once for a warm dinner and sleep, we reached the border in two days. At sunset on the second day, we stopped to rest the horses at the edge of the plains.
The flat expanse of the plateau stretched to the horizon. A few brown clumps of grass clung to the sunbaked surface. While the plains had a few trees, rolling hills, rocks and sandstone protrusions, the plateau had bristle bushes, coarse sand and a few stunted spine trees.
We had left the cold, cloudy weather behind. The afternoon sun had warmed the land enough for me to take off my cloak, but as the light slipped into the darkness, a cool breeze stirred to life.
Moon Man left to find his scout. Even at this distance from the Vermin camp, it was too risky to make a fire. I shivered as I ate my dinner of hard cheese and stale bread.
Moon Man returned with another Sandseed.
“This is Tauno,” Moon Man said. “He will show us the way through the plateau.”
I peered at the small man armed with a bow and arrows. Only an inch taller than me, he wore short pants despite the chilly air. His skin had been painted, but in the dim light I couldn’t discern the colors.
“We will leave when the moon is a quarter up,” Tauno said.
Traveling at night was a good idea, but I wondered what the warriors did during the day. “How do the Sandseeds stay hidden in the plateau?” I asked.
Tauno gestured to his skin. “We blend in. And hide our thoughts behind the Story Weavers’ null shield.”
I looked at Moon Man.
“A null shield blocks magic,” Moon Man explained. “If you were to scan the plateau with your magic, you would not sense any living creature behind the null shield.”
Fire Study - Study 03 s-4 Page 3
