by Justin Sloan
“If we survive that long,” Rhona countered. “I’m thinking more along the lines of dying next week or the week after. If that were to happen, I’d damn sure be glad I went down fighting, but even more so knowing I did it for people I care about.”
“And if you survive? If we win all this and you have another forty years?”
Rhona smiled, trying to imagine Donnon in forty years. An image crossed her mind of the two of them strolling through a garden, but not a castle garden—a small, peaceful garden behind a quaint cottage.
“So?” Kim asked.
“I hope it happens, and if it does, I’m getting myself a unicorn.”
The two ladies laughed and started heading back to join the others, but suddenly Rhona put a hand on Kim’s arm.
“Would you help me out, actually?”
Kim nodded. “Anything.”
“I…didn’t want to tell the others, because, I don’t know, I guess I don’t want them worrying about me. My brother thinks that if we use our powers it exhausts us, and he wants me to save my energy. I get that, but I’ve found that the more I practice, the more I hone my skills and learn how to control my magic, the less exhausting it actually is.”
“And I can help…how?”
“Honestly, that’s what I came out here for. To practice. Before Donnon was with me and I was able to do it, but by myself I’m having a hard time. Can you just, I don’t know, be with me while I try? Maybe help me focus somehow?”
Kim beamed like it was the greatest honor ever bestowed upon someone. “Of course.”
Before long, Rhona was back in her game. She even performed a move that brought her like a whiff of smoke blown in the wind first to one tree branch, then another near the top, then into another tree altogether before appearing again at Kim’s side.
Kim’s eyes were wide with amazement. “How do you feel?”
“Like I could take on the whole enemy army by myself.”
“You’re like…the perfect assassin.”
“Assassin?” Rhona thought about that. “Actually, that makes complete sense. Moving in the shadows, striking before anyone sees me or knows what’s happening, and then zipping out of there.”
“If anyone else has this shadow magic, I’d bet money that they’re using it for that purpose.”
Rhona shook her head. “I don’t know of anyone else who has this magic. I’d be pretty surprised, actually.”
“Maybe.” Kim shrugged. “But I’ve always thought it interesting how magic evolved so differently where I come from and here. You might be the first step in a new evolution, or you might be the product of someone’s creation, in a sense.”
“A product of what?” Rhona didn’t like the sound of that at all.
“I just mean that it’s possible someone could’ve conditioned you to be like this. It might be hereditary, or it might be in response to some environmental factor when you were younger. Who knows? It could just be random, and I’m talking out of my arse here.”
Rhona laughed. “Let’s go with the ‘arse’ version for now, because thinking about all that other stuff just freaks me out.”
“It fascinates me, but then again, I’m not the one with the magic.”
“Right. It’s much more exciting when you’re watching it, compared to when you have immense powers beyond your comprehension surging through your body. Trust me, it’s weird.”
Rhona grimaced. “Believe me, if I could give it to you…”
“You wouldn’t.” Kim was certain of that.
Rhona had started to think about it as the words had left her mouth, and she realized that no, she would not. Now that she had loved ones besides her brother, she was happy that she had some way of looking out for them that could do serious damage to any potential attackers. Once she mastered her powers, nobody would get close to Donnon or Kia; to anyone in the clans, really.
Of course, she realized she needed to stop herself from that sort of thinking. How many men and women throughout history had become too reliant on their powers, too confident in their abilities? Hubris. It had led to many a downfall.
If there was one thing she was going to never do, it was fall. She might stumble, but she would refuse to ever accept defeat. Not anymore.
“You’re right,” she finally admitted. “No way in hell.”
“Too bad, and too bad it’s not possible, that we know of.” Kim raised an eyebrow in thought. “I wonder… Do you think there are magic users out there who can effectively take your powers?”
Rhona scoffed. “Come on, that sounds like something out of the old tales. Next you’ll be talking about demons and monsters from other dimensions.”
“But…if magic is more about what we perceive it to be…if it’s some great energy that any of us can tap into. Maybe stealing someone’s magic is actually no more than observing it so that you can understand, and then just doing it.”
“Really? Then why not simply imagine whatever sort of magic you want and then do it?”
“Hey, I’ll be honest. Based on what we’ve seen just in the Kaldfell Peninsula and the Lost Isles, not much would surprise me anymore. Well, maybe if there were gods or aliens or something descending from the skies, but anything short of that? I say it’s possible.”
“We have enough on our plate,” Rhona countered. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t get any more complicated anytime soon. Leave the gods out of it for now.”
Kim chuckled as she agreed, “Deal.”
They rejoined the group and started to move again, and by nightfall they were welcomed at the town gates by Leila and a small group of guards.
“Is that you, Alastar?” Leila asked, peering out into the darkness.
Alastar responded by casting a glow of light across him and his friends. “Did you miss us?”
She walked over and greeted him and Rhona with hugs, then assessed the newcomers. “Even more since I heard about the defeat. I was worried about all of you.”
“And us you,” Rhona interjected.
“I see you have new friends, too.” Leila glanced at the castaways. “Trustworthy?”
“Aye. They wouldn’t be traveling with us otherwise.”
Leila welcomed them, and after introductions, led them into the village.
“You said ‘too’ about new friends?” Rhona asked.
“Ah, sailors, actually. They just arrived. We debated what to do about them, and they offered themselves up as labor and only asked for room and board in return. We figure with the war going on, we can use all the help we can get.”
“And you’re sure they aren’t connected? This sorceress and them?”
“No one can be positive about such a thing,” Leila replied, pausing to look Rhona in the eyes as she spoke, “but we took the risk, and based on what I saw today, they are good, hardworking men.”
“I don’t suppose they said where they were from?” Andreas asked, and the others all looked at him questioningly. “It’s just, if they happen to be from Kaldfell…”
“Actually you might not like this part, but…aye, they might be. Reformed Storm Raiders, I think. They seemed to be in an awful hurry to leave their old lives behind. You ask me, something’s changing up there. Something big has happened.”
“To be clear, the Storm Callers of Kaldfell weren’t Storm Raiders,” Andreas said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I don’t mean to be rude by correcting you, but that title belonged to the men and women northwest of us, the Barskall. Crude men, men with…”
His voice faded as he noticed three men walking past in the night, chatting boisterously amongst themselves. Not a one had hair on his head, and they all wore beards.
“Shaved heads?” Rhona finished for him, then frowned, glancing between him and Leila. “If the sailors this town is harboring are indeed Barskall—and that means Storm Raiders—aren’t they effectively our enemy?”
Leila glanced at the men who had walked by. They were now entering what passed as an inn these days. “They haven’t start
ed any trouble and they arrived in peace, which is very different from how Storm Raiders conducted themselves in the past. That said, if you aren’t comfortable with their presence, I think we should move to the edge of town and discuss what it is you have come for. There are enough of them here that I’d prefer not to start trouble.”
Lars clicked his tongue while shaking his head and Kim voiced what he was probably thinking.
“Trouble will likely come your way soon enough with that lot here.”
“Last I checked, I called the shots,” Leila replied with an annoyed glance at Rhona. “If your friends aren’t familiar with how things work, perhaps we should leave them outside while we discuss.”
“They’ll behave,” Rhona replied, giving her friends a look that told them they had better do so. She lowered her voice as she added, “But there’s no need to find a place to talk, as it’s better that we move quickly.”
“Straight to business?” Leila smiled, finally. “I can respect that. You must have a good reason for traveling all the way over here after what you’ve just been through.”
“You have a boat,” Alastar replied. “We’d like to sail down to Gulanri, notify the king of the arrival of the sorcerers, and see what assistance he can provide. Worst case scenario, he sets up a defense that deals with them when they show up on his doorstop, and they no longer have the element of surprise.”
“I have several boats now, as a matter of fact. And if you’ll let the Barskall crew, you’ll be able to take one of the larger ships.”
“Never,” Andreas replied.
Leila glanced at Rhona again, who nodded. If their friends weren’t comfortable with the Barskall, then neither was she. That being the case, she wasn’t going to sail with them, but she also wouldn’t disagree with Leila. These were her people, so it was her decision.
Finally Leila nodded. “If they stay their ships become mine anyway, so I suppose taking one of the larger ones for myself and giving you a smaller boat isn’t the worst possible scenario.”
“You have one for us then?” Alastar asked.
“Come, let’s grab supplies and get you ready.” Leila beamed. “You’re going to love her.”
***
With the wind in his hair and the familiar salty ocean air in his lungs, Alastar stood at the prow of the cruiser watching the land fly by. There was no way they could’ve made it so far this fast even with horses.
Andreas was working his magic, filling the sail with wind and pushing the moon-silvered waves to send them careening across the sea. They were practically flying—and felt it, too, every time they went over another wave, becoming airborne until landing again.
“If they don’t pass him when he takes the test to be a Storm Caller, they’re all a bunch of idiots,” Alastar said to Lars, who stood at his side with hands on his hips as if he owned the waters.
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Lars replied with a bellowing laugh. “This boy knows his stuff!”
“And is trying to concentrate!” Andreas shouted back.
The two chuckled and Alastar returned his focus to the dark mass of land as they sailed past it. Somewhere out there, maybe inland of the point they were passing right that instant, Estair and the others were preparing their defense. He wished he could be there with her. To protect her, his inner voice said. But no, he knew she could defend herself. Hell, she could probably put on a better fight than he could.
What he really wished was that he could be there for himself—to simply be at her side, to know that they stood with each other in their final moments, if it came to that.
Since they couldn’t be together now, he would just have to ensure these weren’t their final moments, and get back to her as fast as possible.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Fortress of Stirling was just as they had left it, and Volney certainly wasn’t glad to be back. Night had come with the arrival of the sorcerers and their soldiers at the ruins of Stirling. Since then Volney and Larick had been working their way around the outskirts, where they hid in the shadows and debated the best way to make a move.
It was lucky for them that they had arrived before the others, but now they were stuck because they couldn’t join the others without being spotted. Not that it mattered, since they were here for a mission. Backing out wasn’t an option.
“How about that one?” Larick asked, pointing to a guard who seemed to be patrolling by himself while the others searched the ruins.
Volney nodded, but didn’t move.
“Well?” Larick prompted.
“When the timing’s right.”
“If you’re waiting for him to send you an invitation—maybe some roses—I think we’ll be sitting here a long time.”
Volney glared. “Listen, if you want to switch roles, be my guest.”
Larick pursed his lips, not wanting that at all.
“You don’t think one of the sorcerers would be better?” Volney asked. “I mean, they might be able to get closer to the inner circle.”
“Ah, but soldiers gossip. Everyone knows that. Plus, playing the role of the sorcerer might be harder. Easier to get found out, which means easier to lose your head.”
“Thanks for that image. As if I wasn’t nervous enough already.” After a deep breath, Volney nodded and said, “Here goes everything.”
His eyes went white and he smiled. A moment later the guard came strutting over, a silly smile on his face.
“Where’d you go?” the guard asked, glancing around and failing to see them. A moment later, his eyes fell on a pile of rubble and he smirked. “My name’s Tom, and you are?”
Whack!
He fell over, unconscious. Volney stood behind him with a rock.
“Damn, that was harsh,” Larick commented. “Did you at least give him a nice image before he went down?”
“Aye. He thought he’d just stumbled across a nude woman bathing. I figured if I was going to screw the guy, he might as well get something out of it.”
“There is so much wrong with that statement.” Larick chuckled. “That’s why I like you.”
“I’m a mystic, not a saint.” Volney knelt beside the guard, studying him, eyes still white as he moved his hands across the man’s head.
“Don’t forget to get the full backstory—info on his buddies, their names, and—”
“Ah!” Volney pulled back, eyes suddenly returning to normal. Out of nowhere, he pulled back and kicked the guard in the face, then stomped on him, and was about to stomp on him again when Larick pulled him back. The kick and stomp had caused the helmet to come loose and reveal his shaven head, which was just barely starting to grow back hair.
“Quiet, you’ll draw unwanted attention,” Larick hissed. “What the hell came over you?”
“He’s Barskall. One of the Storm Raiders we’ve heard about. Or was, until recently. Seems many of them are on the run since their leader was killed, and these joined up with the sorcerers just recently.” Volney shook his head, looking at Larick. “The things this man has done. I-I don’t know if I can become him.”
Larick pursed his lips, pulling Volney close. “Brother, it’s just for a day or two. Maybe a few, but not more. We must learn what they’re up to. And honestly, the chance of any of the others being less atrocious is slim. Add to that the fact that if they just joined it’ll be easier to pass for him, and I’d say we have a win.”
A low grumble came from Volney’s throat as he turned back to the man and shook his head. His eyes went white again, and a moment later he took on the man’s appearance. It wasn’t easy to maintain someone’s appearance, or not completely. Knowing this, he just focused on the head and facial features, and then took the man’s armor. While it was snug, it mostly fit.
Larick’s eyes had gone white too, he knew, as he blocked the illusion so Volney would still look like himself to Larick. Another wave of Volney’s hands, and then he chuckled.
“What’d you do?” Larick asked.
“We could
kill him, or make him think he’s a pig for the rest of his life. I chose the latter.”
“Since you left him without clothes, the pig thing makes sense, actually.” Larick took his friend in an embrace and said, “Good luck,” before patting him on the back and watching him walk back to the patrol area. If this didn’t work, he’d have to use his magic and get in there to save him.
He would be ready.
***
Volney felt slimy simply knowing Tom’s story, let alone pretending to be him. He had to take on his voice and mannerisms, because his magic didn’t actually change him or give him a Tom mask. What it did was affect the minds of those around him to make them think he was Tom. When he was close enough, he would even be able to read their minds, if he wanted to take the risk. If there were other mystics around, he would have to be careful.
Soon a sorcerer called, “There’s nothing here. They’ve fled.”
“She won’t be happy,” another replied, and then turned to Volney. “Tom, you searched the surrounding area?”
This was his time to shine. “Aye,” he replied.
“Aye?” the man frowned. “You’re starting to talk like them now?”
He hadn’t thought to check the man’s speech patterns, in the sense of what words he used. With a sigh and a mental kick, Volney explained it away. “In case anyone’s listening that we haven’t found, thought I’d make them think we were locals just investigating.”
The sorcerer considered him for a moment, then walked away. “Typical Tom. Damn shame he’s such an idiot.”
Volney didn’t know how to interpret the defensiveness he felt at Tom being called an idiot, but it bothered him. It also bothered him that he took offense to it, and that he had to be Tom to begin with. He had a feeling a lot of things would bother him in the near future.
Get in there and see what you can find out, Larick’s voice said in his mind.
I’m on it, Volney replied, and walked into the fortress to find the others.
