Daughter of Discord (Star Mage Saga Book 1)
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Daughter of Discord
Star Mage Saga Book 1
J.J. Green
Cover Art: Amalia Chitulescu Digital Art
Editing: L.M. Lengel
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Books of the Star Mage Saga
Prequel: Star Mage Exile
Book 1: Daughter of Discord
Book 2: Dark Mage Rises appears July 2018
ALSO BY J.J. GREEN
SPACE COLONY ONE SERIES
SHADOWS OF THE VOID SERIES
CARRIE HATCHETT, SPACE ADVENTURER SERIES
THERE COMES A TIME
A SCIENCE FICTION COLLECTION
DAWN FALCON
A FANTASY COLLECTION
LOST TO TOMORROW
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter One
Carina Lin was too young to be so drunk. She stared morosely at the rough tabletop, blinking it into focus, drew her dagger from its sheath under her arm, and drove in the tip.
“Hey,” shouted the barkeeper. Carina turned. He was watching her, but he took his objection no further. The tavern was a downmarket place, and the cut Carina’s knife had made only added to the many others that scored the ancient table. Nevertheless, she pulled the dagger out and returned it to its home. Her glass was half full of the strong local liquor and she didn’t want to get thrown out before she’d drunk it.
Stabbing the table hadn’t eased her frustration anyway. A few coins were all that remained of her wages after quitting her merc job three months previously. She needed another source of income, quickly. She was at a crossroads and whichever way she turned the road looked either unsavory or obscure.
Across the tavern, in a corner the dim lighting hardly penetrated, a pair of eyes met hers. It must have been the fifth or sixth time that evening. Carina had lost count as she’d downed more alcohol. They were dark eyes, belonging to a dark, slim, coltish figure.
Carina took another sip of the numbing alcohol and looked away. She had enough problems. A casual hookup would probably add to them, not solve them. A burst of laughter came from behind. Carina grimaced and ignored it. She’d already checked out the mercs who were responsible for the loud merriment.
Their behavior was dissuading her from signing up as a professional soldier again. If time had dimmed her memory of working with mercs, the bunch in the tavern were a great refresher. Scarred, loud-mouthed, and fond of throwing their weight around, the soldiers were almost exactly like her previous troop, the Black Dogs. Only her impression of these wasn’t softened by familiarity.
Could she really become a merc again? She didn’t think so, but there didn’t seem to be any alternative. Bile rose in her throat, and she didn’t know if it was due to the liquor or her train of thought.
Carina’s mind strayed to the pouch in her pocket and the angular edges of the objects inside that pressed into her thigh. Among the objects were precious gemstones. If she sold one, the proceeds would buy her another two or three months in that town, but to what end? If she hadn’t seen any results from her efforts in all the weeks she’d been there, what advantage would more time give?
Her thoughts moved on to the other items in the pouch, and the familiar ache that crushed her returned. A small vial of plain water, a tiny bundle of wood splinters, tied up with thread, a thumb-sized box of metal filings, a minuscule firestone, and a container that held nothing but dust. All inconsequential and worthless, yet when combined they created the base elixir that allowed mages to Cast.
The moment that Carina had received the pouch was burned into her memory forever. After rescuing a kidnapped boy and returning him to his wealthy family, someone had sent her the pouch as a gift. It had been a thank you or a reward, but to Carina, the elixir ingredients meant so much more than the gems. They were a sign that the giver knew what she was, and that perhaps that person was a mage too.
For three months, Carina had clung to that hope.
Yet everything she’d done to try to enter the family’s mansion or meet the sender of her gifts had failed. They were Sherrerrs: members of the clan that controlled that region of the galactic sector, which meant they were powerful, aloof, and unapproachable. Yet somewhere behind the tall imposing walls that enclosed the estate dwelt someone who either knew the closely guarded secret of mages or was a mage and a member of the long-lost, scattered clan to whom Carina also belonged.
What would she do if she were ever introduced to that person? What she would say? She’d never been able to decide. Just meeting someone like her would be enough. She had kept her ability secret most of her life to protect herself from harm, but keeping the secret had isolated her. Always being alone was hard.
The dark eyes flashed again. Carina blinked. How had she happened to be looking in that direction once more? In her drunken state, her gaze had roamed. Her glass had also somehow emptied another quarter.
She took another sip, though by then she was forcing the liquid down. Maybe she should quit while she could still hold onto the contents of her stomach. Finding her way back to her hostel would also be useful. She tried to stand but her legs wouldn’t obey. Pushing the nearly empty glass away, Carina watched the marked tabletop as it shifted and swam in her vision.
The pockmarks and lines seemed to coalesce into a pattern. Carina squinted and tilted her head. The pattern was familiar. It was the Map. The one hundred stars surrounding the birthplace of mages and perhaps of humanity itself. If she could find that set of stars, she would be home. Carina shook her head. It was impossible.
She found that she was resting her head on her arms. If she took a little nap, she might feel better in a while. Not more than a few moments
after she closed her eyes, however, a hand grabbed her shoulder and shook her so roughly she almost fell off her stool.
The barkeeper’s face loomed, close and ugly. “Where do you think you are? A hotel? If you’re in no fit state to drink, you’re not welcome here. Get out.”
The man’s words echoed around Carina’s skull. She didn’t have the ability or the will to argue about it. He was right. She should go back to the hostel. If only her legs would do as they were told. She stood up, wobbling.
“Awww, don’t be like that, chief,” yelled a merc. “Let her stay. We’ll look after her. She’s with us. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Carina gave the noisy soldier a dirty look, causing his fellows to shout with laughter. She swallowed saliva that heralded an eruption from the grumbling volcano of her stomach and, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, made her way to the door. Her path took her past the mercs’ table. One stood up to intercept her, his arms spread wide. “Let’s have a cuddle, darling. You’ll feel so much better.” Carina side-stepped the man, but as she passed him, he leaned in and planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek. Though she was heavily inebriated, she reacted by reflex. She punched the merc hard on the side of his head.
What happened next was hazy. Carina heard raucous guffaws. She was shoved to the floor and a heavy body landed on top of her. Then the body was gone and the barkeeper grabbed her upper arm. “Let me give you a hand,” he said sarcastically and half-supported, half-dragged Carina to the front door of the establishment before pushing her out into the night. “Thanks for your custom. You’re very welcome to return—when you’re sober.”
The door banged shut. Much to her surprise, Carina found she was able to stand. Maybe it was the cool, dry night air that was reviving her. Outside the noisy tavern, her head spun less and her stomach quietened its protests of her ill treatment. Perhaps she would be able to walk the short distance to her rented room.
She checked she still had her pouch and knife and that the barkeeper hadn’t pick pocketed them when he threw her out. Their bulky shapes under her hands reassured her. She put one foot forward, and then another. Wobbling a little but keeping her balance well enough despite the motions of the ground and surrounding buildings, Carina went down the street. Tomorrow she would regret her over-indulgence, and she still had no idea what she should do next.
From behind her came the sound of the tavern door opening and an accompanying explosion of noise and laughter from inside. The door closed and the sounds were muffled once more. Resting a hand on a wall to remain upright, Carina looked back. The long, lithe figure of the stranger who had sat in darkness was following her.
Chapter Two
Carina pushed herself away from the wall and continued on. Ordinarily, she had few problems defending herself but at that moment she wasn’t feeling her best. She had no friends or family and there was no enforcement agency to call upon. If you weren’t a friend of the Sherrerrs, you were on your own. The only people who would give a damn about her if she died that night would be the ones who had to remove her body the next morning.
She put one hand on her dagger and rested the other above the pouch in her pocket. She would happily kill with one to protect the other. Hurrying her pace as well as she could, Carina went on.
The footsteps of the stranger grew faster and nearer. “You,” a voice called. “You with the black hair. Stop a moment.”
You with the black hair? Considering the street was empty but for the two of them, the definition was overkill. Maybe her pursuer was as drunk as she was. That would be useful.
“Don’t be afraid,” the person continued. “I just want to talk to you.”
Ha! That’s what they called it on Ithiya, is it? Carina didn’t slow her pace. Triggered by the threatening situation, a rush of adrenaline was running through her veins, sweeping away the numb alcoholic fog. She wasn’t about to answer the stranger. Answering only gave encouragement.
“Hey, come on. Stop, won’t you?” The footsteps were running, and before Carina could get away, the person had caught up. She gripped her dagger’s handle in a fist, and as she spun around she drew it. Bringing up her other elbow under her pursuer’s throat, she pushed him up against a wall and held the tip of her knife below his breastbone.
“Whoa,” said the man, the quick pallor of his face noticeable even under the sparse streetlights. He held up his hands.
“What,” Carina said between her teeth, “did you want to talk to me about?”
“I only...” He swallowed. “I only wanted to...”
They stood frozen in their positions, eyes locked.
“You aren’t really going to kill me, are you?” the man asked.
Carina blinked and peered at his face. He was very young, probably her own age if not younger, and he looked genuinely frightened. Maybe he didn’t have any ill intent.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he went on. “I called out to you. Didn’t you hear me?”
“Of course I did. That doesn’t mean I have to stop. Now, what do you want?”
“You know, I actually forgot. But if you put away the knife, I might remember.”
Carina studied the youth’s expression. Life had thrust her into many dangerous and harmful situations in her eighteen years, and she’d become a fairly good, quick judge of character. This person wasn’t setting off any warning bells in her. She stepped back and sheathed her dagger. “Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”
Released of her hold on his throat, the young man collapsed. Carina turned and left. The encounter had cleared her head even more. She was tired and despondent. All she wanted to do was go to her room and go to sleep.
Her pursuer, who she’d begun to think of as more like a hanger on, didn’t give up. He ran to her side, his footsteps matching hers. “I remembered what it was I wanted to talk to you about.”
Carina rolled her eyes and didn’t deign to respond.
“But I need you to stop.”
Carina marched on.
“Just for a second.”
Carina sped up. She was nearly back at her hostel. She hoped this exasperating person would have the good manners to not follow her inside.
“Please.”
She halted and spun around so that they were nose to nose. “What the hell is it you want?”
“To be honest,” the young man said, “I only wanted to check you were okay and to walk with you wherever you’re going. I saw you had a little too much to drink, and after you punched that merc, I was worried he might come after you for revenge. But now I’m not sure you need any help.”
Carina’s anger dissolved. She broke her stare and stepped away. “No, I don’t need your help. Now please leave me alone.”
“And I wanted to ask you something,” the man said quickly as Carina was walking away from him once more. “Could I stay with you tonight? I don’t have anywhere to sleep.”
As Carina was about to say no, the man went on, “I did help you with that merc. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I was hoping you might be willing to help me in return.”
“What do you mean, you helped me?” In truth, she barely recalled anything of the encounter.
“After he shoved you, I punched him. He fell on top of you. Don’t you remember?” The young man smiled ruefully. “I hurt my hand.” He showed Carina his knuckles, which were grazed and reddened. “It turns out it hurts to punch people. Who knew?”
Guilty at her misreading of the man and the entire situation, Carina said, “Look—”
“How old are you?” the man asked.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m eighteen.”
“I didn’t realize. You look older.”
“Right. Er, thanks? Look, I’m really sorry, but… ”
The youth nodded. “It’s okay. I understand.”
She continued walking. After hearing the man’s story, she wanted to help him. She knew exactly what it was like to have nowhere to sleep, but she cou
ldn’t risk it. She couldn’t risk sharing her life with others, even if only for a short time. No matter how desperate they were. Carina sighed. She halted and turned around. The man was walking away slowly in the opposite direction. “Okay,” she called out.
He didn’t need any more of an invitation. Immediately, he came running up. “Thanks. I’ll be gone in the morning, probably before you wake. I promise.”
“Yeah,” Carina said. “You will.”
Unperturbed, the man said, “I’m Bryce. What are you called?”
“No names.”
“Whoa. Okay.”
In a few minutes, they’d reached Carina’s hostel. It was dark and silent. She led the man up the outside staircase to her door, unlocked it, and went in. The room was as dismal and bare as she’d left it. Strangely, the man’s presence made her feel her isolation more strongly. “This is it. You sleep on the floor.”
“Sure,” Bryce said, but he didn’t move. He was watching her.
She also remained still, watching him.
Bryce reached up and touched Carina’s upper arms. She raised an eyebrow but she didn’t protest. He leaned toward her, his face coming close. To her surprise, Carina found that she did nothing to stop what was about to happen.
The kiss was soft and warm, and she didn’t think she’d ever been kissed so well in all her life. When it stopped and Bryce drew back, a pregnant pause hung in the air.
“You sleep on the floor,” Carina repeated.
“Sure.”
Carina took a blanket off her bed and gave it to Bryce, who spread it across the narrow space between the bed and the chest of drawers that sat below the room’s only window. She pushed her pouch well down into her pocket and, tucking her dagger in its sheath under her pillow, she lay down.
“You really don’t have anywhere else to sleep?” Carina asked as Bryce stretched out on the floor.
“No, I really don’t.”