by Amy Hopkins
“Artemis?” Julianne called carefully.
He ignored her, picking something out of the pile and holding it up to the light.
“Marcus, that wall…” Julianne said, pointing just as another handful of fine pebbles tumbled out of cracks in the brickwork.
These landed on Artemis, and the old man irritably flicked his head from side to side. He looked up, blinking, as Marcus started creeping towards him.
Artemis looked back towards the ground, discarding the nearly-invisible filament to pick up another. This time, he held it up, grinned, then flicked the end.
“Found one!” he yelled, jumping to his feet.
The fast movement made him teeter, and he grabbed the wall for support. Marcus dashed forwards, yanking Artemis forwards. The old man fell to the ground with a cry as the ruined structure rumbled, then collapsed in a cloud of dust, sending larger rocks flying out like missiles.
Marcus threw himself over Artemis as Julianne watched, helpless. Without thinking, her magic grabbed for Marcus’s mind.
Are you hurt? she sent urgently
There was a pause. She couldn’t reach past Marcus’s shields without forcing her way past. Marcus?
I swear to the Bitch herself, if this man doesn’t have some kind of lifesaving information in that thick head of his, I quit. Marcus relaxed his shields, letting Julianne quickly reassure herself he was, indeed, unharmed.
He grunted when Artemis suddenly started struggling beneath him.
“Where is it? You fool, where is it?” the old man cried, scratching at the dirt.
Marcus stood and brushed himself off. “Where’s what?” he asked with obvious exhaustion.
“My thread!” Artemis scrambled to his feet and grabbed Marcus by the shoulders. “Do you know how hard they are to find?”
Marcus raised an eyebrow and reached out one hand to pluck something from the bushy beard that had been shoved in his face. “You mean like this one?”
Artemis’s eyes lit up, and he grinned, snatching the wire from Marcus and spinning around to examine it. “Yes! I found it!”
Marcus coughed. “Who found it?”
Artemis stormed away, calling, “If you hadn’t toppled a building on my head, I wouldn’t have had to find it a second time, would I?”
Marcus opened his mouth, but Julianne grabbed his arm, shaking her head. You know you can’t win this, she sent to him.
“Fine,” Marcus muttered, and set off through the long grass after Artemis. “But you can deal with him until we get through the Madlands. No—all the way to Craigston!”
Julianne laughed. “Fine, but you owe me.”
“I’ll give you the world,” Marcus said, raising a hand to his forehead dramatically.
“Oh, I’ll be taking more than that, thanks,” she replied, grinning.
CHAPTER THREE
They set up camp that night, laying out bedrolls but going without a fire. Julianne stripped her clothes off and wrapped them inside out to stifle the dank, coppery smell.
As she noticed Marcus watching, she paused before slipping a fresh shirt over her head. Julianne flicked a glance towards Artemis, to make sure he had his back to her and was still absorbed in whatever project he was working on.
She slowed her movements, reaching one arm above her head before pulling the linen shirt over it. She shimmied the shirt on, then turned her back on him, giving him a perfect view of her ass as she stepped into a fresh pair of underwear.
As she pulled them up, then stood for a moment, shirt brushing the backs of her legs, she heard footsteps behind her. Marcus’s stubbly face grazed her shoulder as he nibbled her ear.
“You’re gonna make me pay for the Artemis thing, aren’t you?” he asked in a rough, low voice.
“I just showed you my naked butt, and you’re thinking about Artemis?” she said, turning around to slap his arm.
He pulled her closer. “Only because if I forget he’s here, even for a moment, he might get a shock when he turns around and sees me—”
“Marcus?” Artemis called. “Where did you put my pack?”
Marcus growled and let Julianne go. “You should put some pants on, my dear.”
“Not like anyone around here will notice either way,” she said with a sigh. She bent down to grab her clothes, standing up quickly when Marcus pinched her ass.
“Over there, Artemis,” Marcus called, cutting off her protest. He hurried off to help before Artemis could get distracted and wander off into the trees.
Julianne finished dressing and joined Marcus and Artemis near the pile of saddlebags and riding equipment. She shoved the last of her things into her bag, frowning when she touched something hard.
“What’s this?” she murmured, pulling out a smooth, round object. It shimmered a strange reflective color that threw off shades of red and orange as she turned it over in the fading light.
“Where did you find it?” Marcus asked, wandering over. “Back at those ruins?”
Julianne shook her head. “In my bag. Artemis?” she called. “Did you pick this up?”
He gave an irritated glance at the ball and shook his head.
“Huh. A gift from someone back in Tahn, maybe?” Marcus suggested.
Julianne hefted it in her hand, chewing her lip. “Can’t be. This was the last bag I packed, and I strapped it straight onto Cloud with another bag on top.”
Marcus took it from her and tapped it. The solid thock gave him no clues as to what it was made from. “Weird. Are you going to keep it?”
“My bags are heavy enough as it is, I don’t need to be collecting rocks,” she said.
Marcus lowered his voice and said, “Maybe Artemis can keep it with the rest of the rocks in his head.”
Julianne whacked his chest hard enough to make him wince. “Don’t be mean. Maybe he did pick it up somewhere and just forgot. I wouldn’t put it past him.”
She put the rock on the ground, and smiled as Marcus handed her a small parcel of food.
“Annie outdid herself this time,” he said. “Have a look.”
Julianne pulled back the cloth to reveal a small sourdough roll dotted with olives. She took a bite, savoring it before swallowing. “Oh, that’s divine!” she murmured.
Marcus pulled her down to sit beside him on a bedroll, while he lit a small lantern.
“What’s Artemis doing?” she asked, noticing a small glow surrounding his silhouette.
“Playing with his toys,” Marcus said. “Hey, Artemis! Are you coming over to eat, or what?”
“Almost done,” he called back. “Just have to… and twist that in, yes… and… haha! It’s done!”
He scurried over to them, clutching something in his hands. “Julianne, it works! It works!”
“What works, Artemis?” she asked, sidling over on the mat to make room for him to sit.
Artemis collapsed next to her, folding his gangly legs awkwardly. He grabbed her arm.
“Woah, steady on old man,” Marcus said, his eyes flashing dangerously.
“Marcus, it’s fine. He won’t hurt—OW!” she yelped as Artemis strapped something onto her forearm.
Julianne yanked her hand back. The gold band was tightly clasped around a white stone, pinching her skin underneath.
“Don't!" Artemis yelled as she tried to wriggle it loose. "That wire is fragile!"
"So is my skin," she snapped, fiddling with the catch. It wouldn't come undone, but a wet drop ran down her arm from beneath the stone. "How do I get this off? I'm bleeding, Artemis!"
"Of course, you are. If the amphorald worked without a blood connection, we'd have realized its use much sooner, you know." Artemis grabbed Julianne's arm, and she let him dab away the blood.
She stopped struggling and watched him work carefully, cleaning the area without dislodging the awful pinching sensation. "There's a needle in that Bitch-damned thing, isn't there?" she asked warily.
"How else do you think I was going to break the skin?" Artemis asked, shrugging.
Marcus, red-faced and furious, made to stand. Julianne reached out with her free arm and pushed him back down.
"It's just a little blood," she said reassuringly. "I assume there is a purpose to this, Artemis?"
"What? A purpose?" He shook his head roughly. "You think I'd go around stabbing people with needles and hooking them up to amphoralds for no reason?"
"You sneaky bastard," Marcus hissed. "Thief! You stole my amphorald, didn't you?"
He reached one hand out to grab Artemis, but Julianne swatted him away.
"I only borrowed it," Artemis grumbled. "But don't think you're getting it back. Pah, wasting good magic on a stick that goes boom." He looked at Julianne. "Go on, try it!"
Julianne sighed. "Artemis, you haven't told me what it is, yet?"
"Yes, I—oh. I didn't, did I?" He frowned, wracking his brain to try and remember.
"Let's pretend you didn't," Julianne said gently. She shuffled around to turn her back to Marcus, who had a snarl on his face and, quite possibly, murder in his eyes.
"Reach out to Bastian," Artemis said. "Or, did I give it to Danil? Which one is the rude one?" Artemis asked.
Julianne rolled her eyes. "Artemis, you had months to sort them out. Danil's the one you didn't like."
"Ah. Then I gave it to Bastian. Go on, mind-speak to him." Artemis waited, eyes wide.
Shaking her head, Julianne tried. Bastian was two days ride away, a distance far out of range of any—
Julianne, is that you? It really works!
She jerked back in shock. "Bastian?" she said. Then, realizing she had spoken it aloud, she repeated it in her mind. Bastian? Where are you?
In the hall. Julianne fancied he was wearing a smug grin by the tone of his thoughts. I'm guessing you're halfway through the Madlands by now?
A little farther, she answered. But, Bastian—how? She loaded the question with all her wonder and disbelief.
She felt the mental equivalent of a shrug. Ask Artemis. He's the mad genius.
"Artemis, what is this? How does it work, and can I only speak to Bastian? What about—"
"Stop! Stop talking. You're talking too much, and it's making my head hurt. Like him." Artemis scowled and pointed at Marcus.
"I saved your ass today, old man," Marcus reminded him. His face twitched as he struggled to stay mad, but curiosity got the better of him. "What is it, Jules?"
"I spoke to Bastian," she said. "He's in the hall—back at Tahn!"
"Wow." Marcus rocked back to lean on his elbows. "Maybe that is better than a rif—boom stick. I'm calling it a boomstick from now on. Sounds so much cooler than a rifle."
"Of course, it's better," Artemis said distractedly. "I made it. Move your arm," he snapped, giving Julianne's arm an experimental tug. "It should stay in place. It won't need recharging, not like those silly weapons. You can send and receive messages to anyone who has one."
"We can make more?" Julianne asked, eyes alight.
Bastian, did Artemis leave the schematics? she asked.
None needed, Bastian answered immediately. He just said the amphorald has to touch your blood, or be linked to it by something conductive. I'm guessing he was right. You know, seeing as I can hear you.
She could hear the excitement in his voice.
"See if you can read his mind," Artemis said.
Julianne reached out, but couldn't feel anything. She shook her head.
"As I thought." Artemis dug a small book out of his pocket and began scribbling in it. "Messages, but not control or invasive thoughts. That makes it relatively safe, I suppose."
"Safe?" Julianne asked, suddenly wary. She immediately ran a mental check for signs of strain, or fatigue. She felt fine.
"Well, I thought it was 'safe' to show Rogan that spell, didn't I? And look what happened!" He squinted. "You don't think this could be used for bad, do you?"
Julianne bit her lip. "Only as much as it could be used for good. And we've got them now. If it's as simple as you say, it was only a matter of time before someone figured it out."
Artemis slumped in relief. "I'm not telling anyone else. Only you and Bastian know. Oh... and him." He narrowed his eyes at Marcus suspiciously.
"Don't worry," Marcus said. "I can't use it, and I won’t tell anyone.”
Artemis continued to scribble notes while muttering, “Can’t use it, my ass. Stubborn fool. Still, probably safer if he didn’t. Bastard’s oath, that man with magic? The world would fall.”
“I’m right here, Artemis,” Marcus said.
Artemis looked up, surprised. “What? Oh. Was I talking aloud?”
Marcus scowled and pointed two fingers at his own face, then pointed them at Artemis. Artemis just squinted, shrugged, and went back to his notes.
CHAPTER FOUR
Bastian woke early the next morning. He debated reaching out to Julianne through the communication device immediately, then grimaced.
She might be asleep, he realized as he threw on his clothes. Hell, I still would be if I could. He rubbed his eyes, yawned, and pulled up his pants before quickly throwing his sheets and blanket into some kind of order.
He picked up the thick ream of paperwork beside his bed and grabbed the empty oil lamp, too. That would need filling for tonight. Tahn will run out of lamp oil if I keep this up, Bastian mused.
He and Julianne had talked late into the night, testing Artemis’s device. They had sent words, images, and feelings through the device. That seemed to be all it could do—but that in itself was a wonder. It meant Bastian could now communicate with the Temple’s Master all the way from Tahn.
And that, he thought, might just save my skin.
Bastian?
The whisper brushed against his mind so gently he almost missed it. He grinned, excitement making him shiver.
Julianne! he replied. I was going to contact you, but I thought you might be asleep.
Julianne’s reply was dour. Have you heard how loudly Artemis snores? I won’t be sleeping until I’m home, he’s gone, and we’ve got a mountain ridge between us as a sound barrier.
Bastian chuckled, remembering how disruptive Artemis’s long, hooked nose could be. Slip some golden seal in his tea, he suggested. Clears it right up.
Seal? Julianne asked. That tastes foul. How am I supposed to hide that?
Bastian sent her a feeling of laughter. It’s Artemis. You could fill his tea with mud, and he wouldn’t notice.
He sensed her agreement and sighed, smiling. Despite the heavy stress he had been under the previous days, it was good to know he would have her nearby, in a sense.
I can feel your worry, Julianne sent. Is everything ok?
Surprised, Bastian brought his concentration back to the conversation. When he realized he had been leaking his emotions into the mind link, he lifted a shield and cursed.
To Julianne, he sent, Nothing. I just have a lot to do. I didn’t expect how hard this would all be, but I’ll get there.
He held his breath, waiting for her response.
That’s wonderful, Bastian. It was always going to be hard, but I’m glad you have it under control.
The confidence she exuded made him wince with guilt. Under control, my ass, he thought, careful to keep that tightly behind his shield.
He wondered how to cut the conversation short before she asked for details of what he had been doing, but Julianne saved him the effort.
I have to go, Bastian. She sent a feeling of warmth. We hope to cross back into safe territory today, but we’ll have to move quickly.
Safe travels. Bastian waited a moment in case she responded again, but his mind stayed empty. Well, for all about twelve seconds.
Hey, you’re up! Danil sounded far too cheery for such an early hour.
I am, Bastian replied suspiciously. Why?
Polly has stuff to do today, so she’s left me alone for breakfast, Danil sent. Do you know how hard it is to eat when you can’t see your food?
Bastian sighed. Alright. I’ll
come and feed you.
He picked a few pieces of parchment out of his pile, along with a pen, tucking them into a satchel. He carefully piled the rest of the paperwork on a table downstairs, placing a glistening, red-hued stone on them for safety.
Wonder where that came from, he wondered. Gift from one of the villagers, I guess. Either way, it’ll come in handy.
He locked the door behind him and headed off to join Danil. Bastian had taken a cottage nearby after being chased out of Annie’s dining room one too many times for littering it with paperwork.
“I really thought building a school would be a grand, adventurous task,” he muttered. “Didn’t know it would kill me this way. Death by parchmentcuts.”
He waved at the few people he passed on the street, shivering in the cold air. The sun hadn’t yet crested the mountains to warm the town.
“You need someone to warm your bed, Mystic,” Tansy teased.
Bastian blushed, grinning. “I’m headed to Danil’s. Polly’s not there, but I bet the place is still roasting. Those two have enough heat to cook a whole hog between their sheets.”
Tansy clapped a hand to her mouth in pretend shock. “Why, Bastian! I didn’t know you had it in you.”
He forced a wink and watched her go, face flaming. He had always been comfortable joking around with Garrett, Marcus, and Danil, but making racy comments to a girl in a catsuit? That was a different story entirely.
“I’m going to have to clean up my mouth once I’m principal of a school,” he murmured. He shivered again, this time from the weight of that title. “I’m going to be running a school!”
Despite the troubles he had encountered, the thought still brought a smile to his lips.
“Glad to see someone’s mood has improved,” Danil commented as Bastian pushed open his door.
“Sorry,” Bastian said. “I have been a bit of a prick lately, haven’t I?”
“Damn right, you have.” Danil motioned to the woodstove, already fired up.
A pot sat on top, bubbling away. When Bastian checked it, he realized it was almost empty.
