by Amy Hopkins
A cloth was pushed against her face and she coughed, snorting in acrid fumes before she could think to hold her breath.
Her shield dissolved as fatigue swamped her bones.
Her mental attacker forced past the remnants of Julianne’s defenses, knocking aside her feeble attempt to summon her magic.
“What did you do to me?” Julianne mumbled, her mouth too numb to speak clearly.
Madam Seher didn’t speak. Instead, she lifted her veil to reveal glowing white eyes.
The presence in Julianne’s mind twisted and Julianne fell to her knees even as she coldly evaluated her opponent.
She was strong, but Julianne was stronger… or, she would be if she could summon a scrap of magic.
Julianne’s shields were down, and they weren’t coming back no matter how hard she tried. Her muscles were limp, too weak to even lift her head, so fighting wasn’t an option.
Seher pushed further into Julianne’s mind, picking out memories and examining them one by one then discarding them to move onto another.
“Let her go.” The cloth dropped away and Julianne sucked in clean air.
The strong hands let her down gently. Madam Seher took the cloth off the brawny man and stood over Julianne.
“I apologize for that. Times aren’t safe, and we had to be sure.”
“Sure of what?” Julianne asked. She coughed to clear the thickness in her throat and pushed up with her hands. She lifted her head, looking towards the curtain as it flew open.
“Found another, Mai—Madam Seher.” The man who’d attacked Julianne held up his prize.
Marcus stood carefully still to avoid pricking himself, at least until he saw Julianne on the floor. He lunged forwards in the big man’s grip and kicked backwards, a strike that should have snapped the man’s knee and brought him to the ground.
“Be still.” Seher’s white eyes blinked as Marcus slowed to a stop. “Jakob, make sure you don’t let him go this time? Not until we’ve explained.”
“Explained what? Who are you?” Julianne asked.
Madam Seher smiled. “Why, we are the resistance, my dear.”
Julianne shook her head. “What are you resisting?”
“The same thing you are. That man, Rogan. He and his lapdogs turned up in Muir not long before we were due to pass through on a tour. By then… well.”
“Bastards have old George wrapped around his finger. The young bastard, too, not that he needs incentive to be a cunt.” Jakob grunted, his face showing the distaste he felt for the young lord.
“There are a dozen or more of Rogan’s mages installed in the palace,” Madam Seher continued. “I don’t know who—some wear the blue, others seem to have integrated into the household and the guard. We’ve done what we can to protect Lord George, but I fear we have reached our limits. We move out in a week.”
“We can help,” Julianne said. She stood, brushing off her dress and hastily erecting a mental shield. “We ousted them from Tahn, and came here to take Rogan down for good.”
“You came here afraid for the people you rescued. You don’t have the numbers in either place to fight the Dawn.” Sadness touched Seher’s features. “As much as I wish you did.”
“You don’t need an army to take down one man,” Marcus pointed out.
“You do when that man is an army. He and his generals are too strong. You won’t be fighting them, but all of the innocents they control.” Seher folded her hands. “And I won’t stand by while the innocents of Muir are slaughtered in your quest for vengeance.”
“It’s not vengeance,” Marcus protested.
“Yes, it is,” Julianne said quietly. “They killed my people. They infested my Temple. I will have vengeance, but Madam Seher is right. The Dawners in Tahn deserved what they got. None of them needed persuading to hurt those people, the mind control was to keep them from rising against Rogan and August.”
“How do you know this lot are innocent?” Marcus asked.
Julianne shrugged. “We don't. That’s the problem. He’s come to a city, surrounded himself with people that can—that will—get hurt if this turns into a war.”
“What?” Marcus blustered. “We just go home? If we do that, how many innocents will get slaughtered when George’s shithead son comes to pillage our own?”
Julianne shook her head. “I didn’t say we’re going home. We just need to be careful, that’s all. We’re in a stronger position now we have allies, and—”
“We won’t be joining you,” Seher said sharply. “It’s too dangerous. I won’t risk my people, and I won’t start a war.”
Julianne’s eyes narrowed. The older woman had a hard, unflinching gaze, but something didn’t add up. “Who are you protecting, then?" she asked. “You introduced yourself as the resistance. A resistance doesn’t lay down and let the bad guys run them over. What’s your plan?”
The corners of Seher’s mouth turned up. “Clever girl. You won’t get an answer from me, though.”
“You can have one from me.” A hidden door in the back wall swung open and a young woman stepped out.
“Adeline?” Marcus gasped.
“You know her?” Julianne asked.
He blushed. “No. Nope. Absolutely not.”
Adeline laughed. “Apologies, soldier. I didn’t mean to drag you into my ruse.” She stuck a hand out to Julianne, who shook it despite her confusion. “My name is Adeline. Lord George is my father.”
Marcus groaned. “That fight with your boyfriend in the inn?" he asked.
“Not my boyfriend,” she laughed. “One of Seher’s men. I had to pass on some sensitive information. The Dawn don’t like the theatre group, they know most of the troupe have magic of some kind. They haven’t been brave enough to take them on, but they might if they realize they’re involved in conspiracy and treason.”
“Lady A, please don’t use that word,” Jakob begged. “I’ll do what needs doing, but I’d rather not think about it, you know?”
She chuckled and reached up to put a hand on his shoulder. “We’re liberating the people, and our rightful leader from an insidious force. Is that better?”
Jakob nodded with a wide smile. “Much.”
“Adeline, you know it’s too risky to be seen here,” Seher chided.
The girl shrugged. “It’s risky for me everywhere. Besides, August keeps leering at me, and it’s making my skin crawl.”
“Punch him in the balls,” Jakob grunted, a flash of anger for a brief moment.
“You know I can’t draw attention to myself like that. They’ll lock me up in a heartbeat, they only ignore me now because they think I’m a flighty, useless moron.” Adeline looked to Madam Seher. “Adding more people to our cause can only help. What do they have?”
Seher sighed. “A handful of mind-mages. This one”—she gestured to Julianne—“is terribly strong, the others less so. They have a bunch of villagers barely recovered from the Dawn’s attack, and a couple of… what were they called? Roricks?”
“Rearick,” Julianne confirmed. “Two of them, both furious fighters.”
“Furious drinkers, by what I saw in your head.”
“That, too,” Julianne laughed. “But they really can fight. Marcus is even better than that, and he has a natural gift for shielding, at least when he’s not snorting anti-magic smoke.”
“Wait. You mean they drugged me? With incense? I knew it! There’s no way someone got through my shield without some kind of sneaky trick.” He settled back with a smirk now that his honor had been restored.
“It’s the only way to make our performances effective,” Madam Seher admitted. “We’d have hidden it from the Dawn, but we’d already put on three shows before we found out what was happening. We didn’t want to change anything, in case it drew more attention to us.”
“What was your plan before we came along?” Marcus asked.
Seher shrugged, turning a shoulder away from him. “Protect our lady. Everything else has hit a dead end. We can’t fin
d Rogan; we don’t even know what he looks like. We just know he’s here, somewhere. George has ordered him away, and imprisoned, and beheaded, but he just returns once the guards have ‘forgotten’ their leige’s instructions.”
“So, why haven’t they taken the city? And how is George resisting?” Marcus shot questions at her like quick barbs.
“George is like your man here, blessed by the goddess with an iron mind. As for the city? I’m guessing they don’t have the strength,” Seher explained.
Julianne thought for a moment. “They can’t control a whole city, probably not even an army. Once they move out of range, most compulsions wear off and mind tricks dissipate. If the people care for their lord, they’d revolt at any outward moves by Rogan to take control.”
“Right,” Adeline said. “Though, their numbers have grown since August returned a few weeks ago. Whatever he was doing in Tahn, I think he’s trying to replicate it here, on a larger scale.”
“We need to take them down,” Julianne said. “The methods they use don’t rely on mind tricks. They torture and brainwash, even kill. If you don’t cut the rot out now, it’ll infest too deeply to remove it without destroying lives.”
Madam Seher’s eyes fell. “I’ve spent my life keeping my family safe. All those performers… every one of them was beaten or shunned for their gifts. I helped them to see the beauty in themselves, and kept them safe. I can’t risk them. Not without a better plan.”
Julianne’s heart ached. “I know. I won’t ask you to.”
“But—” Marcus spluttered.
Julianne shook her head. “I was happy to fight for Arcadia and for Tahn. I wouldn’t ask others to die for either of them, though. You can’t make someone fight. It has to be their choice.”
“Thank you,” Madam Seher said. “I will help if I can.”
“So will I,” Adeline said. “But I agree with Madam Seher. We need a plan. A good one.”
Julianne pursed her lips. “I might have one, if you can get us a private audience with your father.”
A smile spread across Adeline’s face. “Tomorrow night. I’ll send a carriage for you.”
“Tomorrow, then,” Julianne said. She nudged Marcus. “If anyone asks, you’re going to see your secret lover.”
“And where will you be?” Marcus spluttered.
“Right beside you. No one will see me, though.”
“Bitch’s britches,” he muttered. “What am I in for now?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The heels of Julianne’s boots clicked on the cobblestones as they headed home through quiet streets. They had stayed with Madam Seher and Adeline until well after the show had finished, fine tuning their plan.
Adeline would let slip to her father she had created a scandal—another scandal. Rogan had little interest in her love life and would likely leave him be for their discussion. Adeline would steal George away, and Julianne would stay back to impersonate him until she could take down the New Dawn.
“You’re sure this is a good idea?” Marcus asked.
“If you ask me that again, I’ll brainwash your mouth shut for the rest of the walk,” Julianne joked.
“So, you’re not the least bit worried about kidnapping the local lord?" he pressed.
She shrugged. “We’re not kidnapping him. Ade said he’s pretty agreeable when his lapdogs aren’t close by. He knows what they are, and he’d do anything to get rid of them.”
“All it’ll take is one Dawner to get in his head and for him to cry out for help. We’ll have the whole city guard on us in a heartbeat.”
“Once we have him, I can keep him safe,” Julianne reminded him.
“And who’s going to keep you safe?” Marcus asked.
“You are, of course. George isn’t the only one going missing, and I can easily disguise the two of us for a while.”
“You have way too much faith in a simple city soldier,” he said. Still, her confidence in his ability made him stand a little straighter… at least, until he realized what she’d meant. “Bitch’s honor. You’re going to turn me into Adeline?”
Julianne grinned. “You’ve got the legs for it,” she pointed out. Then, she stopped walking and caught his arm. “Marcus, I have faith in you. You’re one of the best fighters I’ve seen, and I’d trust you with my life.”
“Only one of the best?" he asked, eyes wide with shock. “Julianne, I'm hurt!”
She slapped his arm and he winced. “Smartass.” She took off again, not waiting to see if he was still beside her. “Last time I give you a compliment.”
“Oh, no, don't stop. It’s good for a man’s constitution.”
“Bitch’s sake, Marcus, I’ll never tell you you’re good at it again!” Julianne rolled her eyes, but grinned at him, her white teeth flashing in the darkness. They rounded a corner and the warm lights from the inn brightened the night.
“That’s not all I’m good at.” At her glare, he raised his hands defensively. “Fine, fine. Look, I’m going to do a little recon before our adventure tomorrow.” Marcus said.
“Now? It’s the middle of the night!”
Marcus shrugged. “Best time for it.”
He checked to make sure his weapon was strapped to him and that his pocket was full of coins. He might need them if he got into any difficulty. He might not have mind control, but he did speak a universal language: Money.
“I’ll be back by dawn. Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone.” He winked, then stepped back into the shadows. A moment later, he was gone.
With a groan of frustration, Julianne pushed open the door of the inn. Without a second glance at the bartender or the few straggling drinkers still seated at the tables, she dragged her tired body upstairs. She had slept poorly the night before, not used to the thin, lumpy mattress.
“It’s going to take one hell of a meditation to work these knots out.” Julianne rolled her shoulders back and stretched her neck as she slipped into her room. Dropping her robe on the floor, too tired to do anything more—she sprawled on the bed.
Someone jumped on her. Hands pressed her arms and legs into the bed and a painful blow slammed her skull. Lights flashed, then dimmed as she lost consciousness. A moment later, she was bundled into a sack and tossed out the window into a waiting cart.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Annie thumped the heavy pot of porridge down on the table. “All I’m saying is, I expected her to have sent a message by now.”
“Julianne is more than competent,” Danil reassured her. “I’m sure she’s fine.”
Annie’s mouth twisted. “Mark my words, you’d best have those pointy sticks at the ready.”
Danil sighed, but when Francis gulped down his food and left in a rush, a heavy lump of unease settled in his gut.
After breakfast, he went to find Garrett. “How go the troops?" he asked.
Garrett rubbed his beard. “Well enough. They can point a spear without stickin’ it in their asses well enough. Can’t say I’m happy, though.”
“What’s wrong?” Danil asked.
“Just seems like we’re running out of time. Julianne and Marcus have been gone a few days now. Surely they’d have sent word?” Garrett finished lacing up his boots. “Either way, I plan ta ride them hard and get ’em as ready as I can. Might pay to increase the watch, though.”
“I’m surrounded by worry warts,” Danil muttered. “I suppose a few more on guard can’t hurt. Can you fix the schedule?”
Garrett nodded. “Aye. The reality be sinking in now, they know that if young Julianne doesn’t talk us outta this, we’ll have a real fight on our hands. It’s one thing stabbin’ a stick at a sack of straw, quite a bit different to shovin’ it through a man’s belly.”
“Or having it stab back,” Danil pointed out.
“Aye. Ye think ye could spare some time today? I’d like ta put our top recruits through one of those conjured up battles ye do.”
Danil agreed and they set a time. Just as he turned to go, Garr
ett cleared his throat.
“Oh, err… before ye go, there’s something I wanted to talk to ye about.”
Danil winced. “What’s that?” He could guess the answer and would have given a sack of gold to avoid the discussion Garrett was so eager to have.
“Well, it’s about Bette. Ye see, I canna get her outta me head.”
“Try harder?”
Danil’s advice fell on deaf ears. “She’s unlike most I’ve ever seen, lad! The way she swings that wee axe of hers, and the look in ’er eye when the battle madness hits her…” Garrett grunted in satisfaction, his eyes glassed over as he imagined his rearick princess flying into battle.
“Bitch’s balls, Garrett. Just ask her!”
“Are ye crazy? She might swing that axe at me head. Or worse, she might say no! Do ye have any idea what kind of hurt that does to a man?”
Heaving a sigh, Danil wondered just how deep he was getting. “Garrett. She likes you. Just ask her out before I die of old age. Please?”
Garrett chewed on a stray whisker. “Ach, yer right. I should just do it.”
“That's the ticket! Now, I'm going to go hunt down Francis and see how his wall is going.”
“Aye. Yer worried too, aren't ye?”
“Aye.” As much as he didn't want to admit it, Danil was.
He didn't expect to hear from Julianne, not until she had secured a solution to their problem. But this was the third day now, and George Junior’s deadline was growing closer every minute.
“Chin up, lad.” Garrett slapped his shoulder. “Yer lass is a clever one. She'll be fine, and she'll save the day. Not the first time, won't be the last.”
“I have no doubt about that,” Danil grumbled. Julianne seemed to attract trouble. World-ending trouble, sometimes.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
A cold, hard surface pressed against Julianne’s face, chilling her skin. She lay still, eyes closed as she listened.
Someone breathed nearby, a quick, hard sound. They were stressed. But was it because they were about to hurt her, or because they had been caught in the trap with her?
