by Casey Odell
The days were getting colder. The leaves had started to change, filling her journey with rich oranges, reds, and yellows. It made her even more homesick than she already was. Fall had always been her favorite time of the year. The fall festival had been one of the things she had looked forward to most each year, the dancing, the music, the people. It was also around the time that Jerrod had proposed to her and it had been one of the happiest moments of her life. If only she could have known…
Claire shook her head of the memory. No good would come from dwelling on that.
Almost a week had gone by since her little talk with Farron, and although she hadn’t been alone with him again, she hadn’t tried to run away from him either. He was doing it on purpose, she was sure. It was probably just as hard for him to be by her. Small steps, that’s what it would take. And time. Already she was feeling more at ease with him and the guards, though the same couldn’t be said about Captain Eyepatch. He was just as stern and watchful as when she had first met him.
She sat by the fire across from one of the men, Alan, a younger man of about twenty years, with strawberry blonde hair, eyes as green as emeralds and a thick sprinkling of freckles; he looked a little too innocent to be wearing a guard uniform. He had been one of the first to break the silence between her and the men, offering a friendly smile and ‘hello’ occasionally. Claire had appreciated it greatly, the simple action making her feel less isolated. But it hadn’t been until the day before that he’d actually started to talk to her, offering to teach her the game they had been playing amongst each other since the start of their journey.
Claire had readily agreed, looking for anything to help the nights pass by quicker.
She looked down at the group of five cards in her hand and tried to hide her disappointment. The game was called Cappereldi, played mostly in the south of Derenan, but had swept the kingdom with its popularity. It was a matching game, similar to one she had played back home, making it fairly easy for her to catch on. The game was mostly about luck, something she lacked in great quantities lately. Already she was losing her first hand of the night.
Finally, she gave in and sighed as she reached for another card from the pile.
Alan smiled, showing dimples. Between those and his easygoing nature, he reminded her startlingly of Jerrod. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “It seems that I grow closer to tasting that sweet wine of yours.”
Instead of coin, they had been playing for sips of each other’s spirits. Claire knew he was getting the better deal of it, her wine coming from the palace cellars, while who knew where he got his. But it was one of the few things she had to ante to make things interesting.
“I wouldn’t count me out just yet,” she said, grinning as her new card granted her her first match of the game.
Alan just chuckled as he slammed down his fourth match. “It looks as if I will win just yet, milady.”
She threw a glare at him as she drew another card. No match.
During his next turn, he flung down his fifth match, winning him the game. He laughed as Claire reluctantly handed over her small silver flask. She had been hoping it would last her until they could reach Et Tessera, but with her luck, she would run out long before that.
Movement caught her eye as Farron entered the far side of the camp and sat down on a log. He took his weapons off and started the methodical task of cleaning them. Claire rolled her eyes. They couldn’t have been any dirtier than the last time he had cleaned them the day before. Her theory was that it made him look busy so the guards wouldn’t bother him. She hadn’t been the only one they had started to open up to. The elf was a curiosity to them, especially since he was the infamous Sin de Reine, and they had been almost relentless in asking him question upon question, though he hardly ever answered them fully. It was nice to know she wasn’t the only one he had trouble opening up to.
“You must be pretty important if he is coming along.” Alan motioned with his head towards Farron.
Claire looked at the young man, studying his face for a second. She wondered just how much they had been told about her. She doubted the king had divulged what she was, let alone the true nature of the mission. “Why, didn’t you know?” she asked, deciding to have a little bit of fun. “I am the king’s mistress.”
He choked on his drink and coughed, wasting a precious few drops of the liquid. He hastily handed the flask back to her, his eyes slightly wide, as if he were suddenly afraid of her. “Milady, I didn’t…” He straightened up, trying his best to compose himself.
Claire laughed, taking back her wine. She took a short sip herself. Already she could feel the elf’s eyes on her. And the ire he must have for the young man already. She was glad that he wasn’t in the killing business anymore or else she would have really feared for poor Alan’s life. “I’m not really,” she finally revealed, the lad having suffered enough. She shrugged. “The king just owes me a favor, is all.”
Alan relaxed, slouching again. “But still, you must be someone pretty special. It’s not every day we are sent on an escort mission with the King’s Shadow himself, especially when the kingdom is in the state it’s in.” He looked down, flustered suddenly. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry. I’m just curious is all. The Cap’n didn’t really tell us anything.”
So, her suspicions were correct after all. She smiled at him, hoping to ease his discomfort a little. He may not know what they were doing, and she most likely wasn’t allowed to say much of anything, but a little bit of truth probably wouldn’t hurt. “He promised to help get me to my mother. As for him,” she nodded towards Farron, “I owe him quite a debt, and he won’t leave me alone until I repay him.” She frowned. It was sort of the truth, anyway. The debt she owed him, however, was much greater than any money could repay.
The young man gulped visibly. “I would hate to be in debt to him.”
“I promise you it’s as fun as it seems.” She chuckled.
“So, where is this mother of yours?” he asked as he started to shuffle the cards.
“In Linesbrough,” she said with a false certainty. Her mother may not be there, but they didn’t need to know that. Their faith in the mission would decrease drastically if they knew they were chasing a probability.
“So that’s why we are going to Tessera. Quicker to go by sea than land.” He dealt the cards and set the rest in a pile between them. “I’ve been there once when I was a small child. The beauty of it alone will amaze you. I remember I could have stood all day and looked at the view of the ocean, watching the boats come and go from the port.”
“I look forward to it then.”
“Is-” He began but stopped abruptly. He leaned in closer to her and dropped his voice lower. “Is it true do you think? That he used to kill all those people?”
She considered her answer for a second. She knew it was, but she wasn’t sure how much he would want to be revealed about his past. So she chose the safest route and feigned innocence. “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “But by the way he scowls all the time, it could be the truth.” She grinned, knowing he heard the jab.
Alan straightened back up. “Well, I don’t think he is as mean as the tales say. Though I wouldn’t go and make him angry by any means.”
“Or me,” she suggested, grinning. It wouldn’t hurt to have an upper hand for once.
She could almost see his cheeks redden in the dim firelight. “Or you, milady.”
“And don’t you forget it.” She slammed down her first pair with confidence. “Or else you’ll have the king to deal with. Or worse, him.” She motioned toward Farron.
The young man just gulped and nodded.
Claire smiled. It sure felt good to have friends in high places.
Claire’s blade cut through the air. Sweat dripped along her skin and her breath was heavy. The sun was low in the sky, about to start its waning journey. Again, she had snuck away as the men set up camp and took care of the horses. It wasn’t that she wasn’t starting
to enjoy their company, but she felt like she needed to get away from them, especially when she wanted to practice with her dagger and de-stress. It was quieter that way. And besides, she could take off the small leather jacket and not be the focus of any prying eyes. She had stripped down to her sleeveless undershirt. The cool air caressed her skin, the mark stood out starkly on her right arm.
Given how little the men seemed to know about her, she didn’t need to be raising any questions. If they knew too much, what would happen to them? The whole lot of them would be missing tongues then. Claire shivered at the thought. Captain Bahadur certainly didn’t need another thing to make him scarier.
Claire sheathed her dagger and let her arms fall limply at her sides. She looked at the mark and frowned. Getting close to her was becoming a dangerous game. Just how far was the Council going to go to make her theirs? Or the king? Or any of the other people for that matter.
It wasn’t as if she could even do anything with it. Yet, at least. Or perhaps, she never would be able to match Lianna and Razi’s level of power. Not after what the General had done. She could barely summon the smallest bit of power without Razi there. Or more like she had been afraid to. The necklace may protect her, but she’d been too wary to test it out. What if the pain came back? And then wouldn’t stop?
She shook the thought from her head. Was she going to live the rest of her short life afraid? If she was going to accomplish anything, she had to be braver. What was the worst that could happen? She would just be swallowed up by her magic in a bout of agonizing pain earlier than planned.
A small laugh escaped her at the morbidity of the thought.
She glanced around her at the trees to make sure she was alone before closing her eyes and taking a deep steadying breath. Just as Razi had taught her, she delved deep, pulling at the strands of magic within her. Heat spread throughout her body, instantly followed by a slight sting in her arm. Claire paused for a moment, waiting for it to get worse. When it didn’t, she dived in again and lifted her arm out in front of her, envisioning the sphere of energy in her mind.
A faint breeze stirred the leaves and branches above and sent another shiver through her body. She felt hot and cold at the same time. The power surged inside her, burning like a furnace, like it was waiting for an outlet. One that she wasn’t certain how to give, or even if she should. The necklace grew heavy, or seemed to, and she could feel the stone start to grow warm. She switched her focus to the stone and the magic inside of it and the pain in her arm slowly faded away. A surge of magic rushed through her with a thrill. She opened her eyes carefully and squinted at the bright blue glow in front of her, emanating from both her necklace and the orb of energy hovering above her outstretched hand.
She took another deep breath and let it out slowly. It looked brighter than she remembered and had more of a white light than blue. The power of it prickled her skin, making the hairs on her arm stand on end. Was this Lianna’s power? If this was just a sampling of it, then no wonder the woman was so sure of herself.
“Impressive,” came a deep male voice from behind her.
Claire jumped and whirled around, the magic ball dissipating. She searched the woods but no one was there. Her heart beat quickened. At first, she thought it had been one of the guards, or even the captain himself, but the voice hadn’t sounded familiar. She put her hand on the hilt of her dagger, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice, her eyes scanning. The shadows had grown deeper, the forest quieter. She glanced back towards the camp, but the fire was just a speck in the distance. She hadn’t realized just how far she had gone until now.
“Of course, it’s not as good as I thought you’d be by now,” the voice said from behind her again.
Claire spun, drawing her dagger at the same time. A man dressed in black caught her wrist stopping her mid-motion. She gasped, her eyes growing wide. She hadn’t even heard the man approach. But upon closer inspection, she found he wasn’t a man at all. Under a mop of unruly brown hair were the pointed ears of an elf, which could explain his silence. A scar cut across one of his slightly slanted brown eyes, which were so dark they almost looked black.
Had the forest elves found…? But before she could complete the thought, her eyes spied the two dark markings peeking out from under his left sleeve. No, this one was from one of her new favorite groups: The Ophiuchus Syndicate.
Claire tried to jerk her arm out of his grip, but his hold was strong and unyielding as steel. She cast another quick glance about, but he seemed to be alone. However, there was no telling how many of them the shadows could be hiding.
“I was only supposed to watch,” he said in that smooth, deep voice, drawing her attention back to him. “See what you were capable of. But this—” He grinned down at her. “This just seemed way too easy to resist.”
She scoffed at that. Was she that easy of a target?
A shout sounded in the distance. Her attention snapped in the direction of the camp. Shadows crossed in front of the fire as chaos erupted. So he wasn’t alone after all. Somehow she didn’t think the men were prepared to deal with an attack by the Syndicate. She dearly hoped none of them got hurt because of her.
A sharp pain on her left arm brought her focus back to her potential captor. Her head swam from the movement and she staggered, her vision blurring. “What-?” Her voice stopped as she looked down to see a small black spine sticking in her skin. Certainly no stranger to being poisoned, she knew exactly what the man had done to her, but by what, she had no clue. Her only reassurance was that the Syndicate wanted her alive. She hoped.
“You can never be too careful, banshera,” he said with a slight smile, the hint of an accent creeping in.
A heaviness settled over her body, her arms and legs feeling like they weighed a hundred pounds each, followed by a cold sweat. Her breath and heartbeat accelerated. Worst of all, the world started to spin around her as if she had had five glasses of wine all at once.
The elf plucked the dagger from her hand and threw it aside. Claire dug her heels into the ground and tried to pull away with all of her waning strength, but to no avail.
He made a tsk-tsk noise, then bent and picked her up, wrapping his arms tightly around her. “No need to make this more difficult than it needs to be.” He adjusted her over his shoulder and started to walk away into the dark trees.
Claire fought nausea as her world turned upside down. She pounded futilely on his back. Only a dim blue glow showed up around the edges of the mark on her right arm. The poison must have affected that as well. But she knew that was one of her only chances of getting away from the mysterious elf.
The other was still nowhere to be seen. Had they gotten to him, too? Perhaps Farron and the other men had been poisoned as well and were just as useless as she was at the moment. If that were the case, then her magic really was their only hope.
If she could get it to work. No, she couldn’t think like that. She needed to focus. She had conjured up magic only moments before, after all. She closed her eyes and tried to find the strings of magic once more, but it was like walking through a thick fog, her thoughts muddled. Just when she thought she grasped a thread, she lost it. She concentrated harder, growing still in the elf’s grip, found another bit of magic, but before she could grab ahold of it fully, lost it again. She pounded his back as a growl-like sound escaped her in frustration. Her anger helped clear her head, enough to find a thin thread of magic in a hurry. Her arm and necklace grew warm, the glow intensifying.
“Let go!” she yelled as she slammed her fists against her captor. A flash of blue spread from her hands into his back, causing him to stagger to his knees. Claire wriggled out of his stunned grip and fell hard to the ground. The impact jolted through her. Then she started to crawl, in which direction, she didn’t know. She didn’t even care as long as it was away from him.
The trees looked like long, dark blobs in her vision. She shook her head and blinked several times, but it only made it worse. She didn’t even dare to tr
y and stand up.
She’d almost made it to the nearest dark blob when a hand clamped down around her ankle. She clawed at the ground, looking for something to hold onto, only coming away with handfuls of leaves and twigs. His hands found their way to her waist and he pulled her back against him.
“Still have some fight left in you, eh?” he snarled into her ear.
Claire kicked and thrashed, but his hold only grew tighter, his fingers digging into her skin, bruising.
“I could stick you again, if that’s what you want, only I can’t guarantee that someone of your size will wake up again.” Slowly, he got to his feet again, hauling her up with him. “Though at this point, I think I’d prefer that.” He shifted her in his grip and reached to a small pouch at his side.
Her throat grew dry. Was he really going to do that? Didn’t he have orders? Though all she knew, the Syndicate may not mind if she never woke up. As long as they had her in their possession, they may not even care. She grew still again as he produced another quill and held it up in front of her eyes. Small symbols she didn’t recognize were carved into the sides.
“You will behave or I will use this.”
She remained silent, unsure if her voice would even work. If she could shock him using her magic again, only stronger this time, she may be able to get away. Quickly, she focused, the act becoming easier the more she did it, as he started to pull her backward through the woods, her feet dragging.
Her abductor jerked, ducking down, the sound of an arrow whizzing by his head. The movement caught her off guard, making her lose her concentration. He jerked again and dropped her. Claire fell to her hands and knees, and just when she was about to crawl away, the elf stomped a foot down on her back to pin her in place.
