by Anna Kashina
Was she ever going to see this city again?
She ran her eyes along the endless rooflines paving the way up to the rising mass of the Royal Castle on the top of the distant hill. From here she could still see the small watchtower overlooking the lake, where she and Kyth used to sit in their days together watching the sunset, the wing housing the Majat quarters, one of them the room that she had shared with Mai during the past weeks. This castle held so many memories – most of them happy ones, until the Kaddim barged in, threatening to destroy everything she cherished.
Was she ever going to be this happy again?
A movement along the rooftops caught her gaze. She froze, peering at a side building flanking the edge of the port plaza. Did she imagine it? No, there it was again, a barely perceptible shift in the shadows behind a pointed protrusion of the roof.
Kara’s skin prickled. She quickly glanced around, aware how everyone in sight was busy with loading up their gear and horses, all but ignorant of the empty plaza behind. Mai left no lookouts, confident that no intruder would ever dare to sneak up on the Majat army, so deadly despite its relatively small size. It would be suicidal for anyone to attempt an attack right now, with everyone in sight armed and battle-ready. Yet, as she peered into the shadows, she clearly saw a hooded figure creeping around the corner, a black-on-black crouching silhouette surveying the boarding party.
She couldn’t see as well as she wanted against the blinding morning sky, but the space on the rooftop seemed big enough to hide several men. Assassins? Spies? Her hand slid to her knife belt in a gesture that she knew would look inconspicuous to an outsider while giving her quick access to her weapons.
Mai was away by the boats giving orders, and everyone around him looked preoccupied. If she had been allowed to participate in the preparations, rather than standing aside like an idle observer not privy to the plans, she would probably have been preoccupied too, giving the men on the roof a free run at executing their plan. Who could they possibly be? Not the Kaddim, she hoped. To the best of her knowledge all the Kaddim warriors on this side of the Lakes had been exterminated after their leaders’ escape. Even if a few of them survived, it would be suicidal for a few men to attack a Majat force of this size. No, at worst these were men loyal to the Kaddim, gathering information in case a possibility arose to pass it along. The thought brought at least marginal reassurance. If the Kaddim had the need for spies, most likely they couldn’t use the link they had with Kara for information. Or was it because of the way she had been so prominently removed from the command group?
The figure on the rooftop raised a hand, unfolding with a weapon that sprouted off his outstretched arm against the blinding sunlight. A crossbow. Kara whipped out her throwing daggers, sending them flying. She dove forward, guided by the low-pitched whistle of the bolt as she drew her sword and sliced it down in mid-air.
Her hand lowered as she peered up at the rooftop, squinting against the light. From this distance she could barely hear the grunts as her daggers reached their targets, followed by the louder screeches of the dislodged roof tiles and then, after a pause, the sight of three lifeless bodies rolling over the roof’s edge and folding down to the pavement below. Three. She had thought so before the attack, but she couldn’t tell for sure. Just in case, she had sent eight daggers their way. She’d need to retrieve all of them before the barges set sail. Did I get all of them? She strained her senses, but could detect no further movement on the rooftop. Only three men. What were they thinking, trying to attack a Majat army on the march?
Men filled the space around her, some sweeping past to the wall and into the surrounding streets. Belatedly, she reflected that she should have probably tried to wound, rather than kill the mysterious attackers. If she showed more finesse, the attackers could have been questioned. The thought seemed strangely detached, as if not entirely her own.
Mai rushed through the crowd toward her, the sight of his narrowed eyes momentarily overwhelming her. She was a fool, using her skill rather than alerting others to the danger. Except that, when faced with the attack, it was so hard not to act on instinct. And now, it didn’t seem to matter anymore. Worse, she was beginning to feel sick. A pounding in her temples erupted into a sudden, blinding headache. Her hand wavered, dropping the sword. She swayed, feeling Mai’s hands on her, grasping on to him as she forced her mind into stillness.
“I’m all right,” she said.
He looked at her appraisingly, his deepening frown telling her how unconvinced he was.
“What happened?”
“I… I’m not sure.” She knew he wasn’t asking about the attack – a useless question when the attackers were already dead and Mai’s men were combing the plaza and all the surrounding streets.
She felt so tired. Suddenly, just standing next to him seemed like an effort. She clenched her teeth, summoning all her strength. She knew it didn’t come from physical exertion. She didn’t do anything spectacular – nothing that a warrior of her rank could possibly sweat about. Why was she feeling so nauseated?
“They have the Kaddim brand marks, Aghat Mai,” one of the Majat called out.
Mai’s jaw tightened.
Someone tugged Kara’s sleeve and she saw Magister Egey Bashi coming into view, with Kyth on his heels.
“The Prince is detecting the Kaddim magic on you,” Egey Bashi said.
Kara let out a slow breath. “I do too. I think.”
“When exactly did it start?” The Keeper’s eyes bore into her with unsettling intensity.
“Just now. When I…” When I used my skill. She swallowed, seeing the way Kyth’s eyes widened, the way Magister Egey Bashi’s face folded into a grim expression. My skill. Dear Shal Addim, they are trying to get me to use my skill. The thought made her feel cold inside. The Kaddim had just sacrificed three men – not to target Mai, or anyone else in their group, which seemed impossible with so many Majat around – but simply to force Kara to use her skill. So that they could tap into it and transfer it to their warriors.
She felt nausea rising to her throat, no longer able to hide her weakness as she swayed and grasped Mai’s arm for support.
“I… I am a danger,” she said. “I shouldn’t be here. Please, let me go.”
“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” Mai said. “If needed, I’ll guard you personally, day and night. This way, if they try to force you to use weapons, I’ll be right there to defend you.”
This way you will be a target too. She bit back the thought, focusing instead on stilling her mind, blocking off the tugging sensation in her head, gathering strength to stay on her feet.
The scouts were returning with their reports – no suspicious activity nearby. Someone handed Kara her throwing daggers and she took them gratefully, sheathing them at her belt. Mai beckoned her as he turned back to giving orders and she slowly regained her composure, falling into stride by his side.
What he wanted to do could work – temporarily, provided she would not be hoaxed into using her skill again. But the Kaddim were clearly doing everything possible to try. They were willing to sacrifice lives, forcing their men into hopeless fights just so that Kara could be engaged.
With the march ahead of them, this was going to be a long haul. Sooner or later, the Kaddim would get what they wanted.
I must do everything I can to sever the link. Even if I have to die. She knew from Mai that the possibility had been brought up at the King’s council, and dismissed because of the somewhat phantom dangers it harbored, of releasing her entire power to the Kaddim. It didn’t seem plausible at all, not with the way she felt no connection to the Kaddim whatsoever. Deep inside she was convinced that Mai was just saying that to her so that she wouldn’t feel tempted to facilitate this course of action.
As a warrior, she knew there was no avoiding the inevitable. She didn’t want to die. But as long as she lived, everyone she loved could never feel safe.
She knew Mai would never let her take her own life. Neither
would Kyth, or any of their other allies.
Which meant that, whatever the cost, she had to break away from them.
9
Elemental Magic
Kyth’s barge sailed last, putting ample distance between him and the Majat command group that included Mai and Kara. By now he was used to the fact that despite his outwardly important role as the leader of the King’s force and the heir to the throne, he was being more or less removed from any daily decisions. He didn’t even mind that much. Mai was definitely better than anyone he knew at handling the logistics of a military march. Besides, even if Kyth wasn’t happy with the fact that he wouldn’t see Kara for the duration of the trip across the lakes, he was glad to find himself in the company of Ellah and Alder, as well as Magister Egey Bashi, whose grounded, cynical wisdom helped everyone to keep a cool head. Lady Celana was also included in the party, and Kyth was surprised at how welcome he was finding the thought. While the lady’s blushing and fidgeting whenever he showed up often made him feel embarrassed, once she was past her bouts of shyness she became an excellent storyteller whose wit and deep knowledge of the kingdom’s affairs kept him in constant awe. Besides, he found it fascinating that she apparently considered him so attractive. It was a welcome change from the way everyone else treated him like a child.
In addition to the Kingsguards of Kyth’s retinue, Mai left them an escort of two dozen Majat, several of them Ruby-ranked. Kyth was surprised Mai was willing to part with a few of his precious top Gems for such an extended time, especially since it seemed unlikely they would be attacked on the water. Still, the incident back at the port left everyone unsettled, wondering when and where to expect a next encounter.
Kyth and his friends were escorted into a roomy cabin in the aft section, where they were greeted by the barge’s captain, a lean man in his early fifties who moved with the grace and agility of someone half his age. The man bowed low to the Prince, and exchanged elaborate court greetings with Lady Celana, before proclaiming that this cabin, and the entire barge, was at their full disposal for the duration of the trip. He then took his leave to give orders on deck, replaced by the stewards who served light refreshments, then left the travelers alone.
“We should probably have invited the Rubies to join us,” Kyth reflected without enthusiasm.
Egey Bashi shrugged. “They would never leave the open space of the deck, Your Highness. Aghat Mai charged them with ensuring our safety. You know how seriously the Majat take it.”
Kyth nodded. Here on the open water, with only the trusted men on board, the Majat’s zeal seemed so excessive. He expected quiet time and smooth sailing. His father’s men knew their jobs, especially when it came to navigating the lake waters.
“I was hoping, Prince Kythar,” Egey Bashi went on, “that we could use this time to work on your gift. Despite how effective you were during the last battle, I keep feeling you are not using your full power. If our suspicions about the Kaddim plans are even partially true, we may need more from you.”
“More?” Kyth heaved a slow sigh. With the recent turn of events, it did seem like a good idea to work on perfecting his skill. During the last weeks of preparation for the march everyone had been focusing so much on the Majat reinforcements that he didn’t have a chance to even give this any thought.
He valued the opportunity to study with Magister Egey Bashi, one of the wisest teachers he knew, but he wasn’t sure there was much more he could achieve. He looked at his companions, unsure how to discuss this in such a large group.
As if on cue, Lady Celana cleared her throat delicately. “With Your Highness’s permission I’d like to take this opportunity to enjoy the view on deck. I heard in the fine weather like today one can see all the way to Castle Illitand.”
“I will accompany you, my lady,” Alder volunteered, hastily rising to his feet.
Kyth grinned at the way his foster brother offered his hand to Celana gallantly, like a born courtier. He knew it was much easier for Alder to wield an axe, the Forestland weapon he always wore in a strap at his back, than to engage in the subtleties of the court etiquette. It was nice to see him make the effort.
Ellah also rose, mumbling an equally superficial excuse as she followed them outside.
“Is there anything you believe you can teach me, Magister?” Kyth asked when the door closed behind her.
Egey Bashi looked at him thoughtfully. “I cannot help hoping we can find a way to expand on your training, Your Highness. Perhaps Ellah’s example could be our guide? She has been quite successful in training with me to use her truthsense.”
Kyth looked away. His training so far had been vastly different from Ellah’s. The girl spent her days talking to Egey Bash and learning to probe deeper into her own mind, while Kyth had to endure endless and strenuous Majat weapon exercises, designed to teach him to hold his ground against multiple opponents – as well as, it seemed, to humiliate him in front of everyone in sight. In battle, Kyth’s sole purpose so far had been to keep attention on their attack force so that he could protect all of them from the Kaddim, and everyone believed weapon training was the best way to perfect this ability. However, during the past month Kyth had come to a painful realization that he would never become as good as the Majat expected him to be. By now, it seemed that the training hindered, rather than increased his magic ability.
It would be nice if the Keepers knew a better way, if only because it would give Kyth a much-needed break, but he doubted it was possible.
“I know about Ellah’s training,” Kyth said. “She sees colors in her mind, different when someone tells the truth or a lie. I don’t think it applies to my gift at all.”
“Do you even know exactly what your gift enables you to do?” Egey Bashi asked.
Kyth felt affronted. Of course he knew. His gift enabled him to control the elements, focusing their power to aid him – in swordplay, when needed, or, importantly for the upcoming battle, in focusing the elemental power to counteract the Kaddim’s mind control. He could use the forces of wind, fire, or water and turn them into an invisible weapon that protected him and conferred the resistance to others. Didn’t Magister Egey Bashi know it as well?
“I thought we went over it before, Magister,” he said.
“We did, but I can’t escape a feeling we are only scratching the surface. Try to think, Your Highness. Why do you think you can resist the Kaddim?”
Kyth sighed. “We discussed this too, many times. I can focus. When I do it, I imagine a blade that cuts through the blanket of mind power the Kaddim throw over their victims. This was why we decided on putting me through intensive blade training in the first place, isn’t it?”
“I remember the way we arrived at the weapons analogy,” the Keeper said. “And it did work well, for a while. But lately it seems to me that we’ve reached our limits with it.”
“Perhaps this simply reflects the limits of my ability, Magister?”
Egey Bashi shook his head. “I don’t think so, Prince Kythar. If I did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Well, we have nothing better to do, have we? Kyth bit back the retort. It wasn’t Egey Bashi’s fault that Kyth was sitting in this cabin when Kara was on another barge, half a mile ahead. She and Mai were probably given a separate cabin where they… they… Kyth’s cheeks warmed under Egey Bashi’s gaze.
“I’d like to train differently, Magister,” he said. “But I don’t know how. Besides, Mai would never allow it, would he?” He paused. Mai thought he was in charge of everyone and everything. He would never let Kyth’s training slip from under his control, if only because of the satisfaction Kyth’s daily humiliations must be bringing him. Kyth was vaguely aware that he was probably being unfair, yet hard as he tried he couldn’t find a flaw in this line of thinking. Mai used every opportunity to put Kyth down. And Kyth had no choice but to go along with it, given that the Majat were the only force that could guarantee their victory.
“Aghat Mai would never stand in the
way of your progress,” Egey Bashi said. “Surely you must know this, Prince Kythar.”
“I doubt he cares. The only thing he cares about is his superiority.” And making me look bad in front of Kara – as if taking her away from me wasn’t enough.
The Keeper frowned. “You should stop this kind of thinking right now, Prince Kythar.”
“Why, Magister?” Kyth blurted. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
Egey Bashi sighed. “We both know you are biased when it comes to Aghat Mai. I saw the way you looked at Kara when she boarded her barge. I can also see the way you look at Aghat Mai every time he is around. You feel upset right now, simply because you cannot stop thinking about them being together. Am I wrong?”
Kyth averted his gaze.
Egey Bashi nodded. “I thought so. And, I must tell you one thing. Kara is no longer a part of your life. She has made her choice, of her own free will. If you want our mission to succeed, you must accept this, and move on.”
Kyth clenched his fists, then slowly relaxed under the Keeper’s intent gaze. He knew, however much it pained him to admit it, that Egey Bashi was telling the truth. Kyth was acting like a child, not a future leader to his people. He could not allow his broken heart to jeopardize their chances of victory.
“You are right, Magister,” he said.
Egey Bashi reached forward and patted his arm. “I know this isn’t easy for you, Your Highness. For whatever it’s worth, I hope you can find comfort in the knowledge that this kind of pain gets better with time. It always does.”
