Star Mage (The Enslaved Chronicles Book 3)

by R. K. Thorne

  He retreated to the other side of the tent and pulled the second blanket over himself, forcing himself to lie down and rest as best he could while chained. What did he have to work with to escape? They’d failed to search him in the tumult of leaving Panar, so he still had his boot dagger, but it wasn’t going to be any help against iron manacles. If Fevrin and his smarter friend ventured close enough, he might have a chance at using it on them. Thin he might be, but he felt fairly confident he was better trained than they were. But he’d still need luck to take them both out quickly. And he felt less inclined to do so anyway, now that they’d actually had the decency to meet his demands. He’d be more likely to best them at math problems, but somehow he didn’t see that knowledge helping him much in this situation.

  Perhaps he could convince them she had some kind of highly contagious disease and they were all doomed to die unless they let Niat and him go? Hmm, but if he did succeed in convincing them, he doubted Fevrin would come close enough to unchain them. The guards would more likely just let them rot where they sat.

  Could he outwit them somehow? Was there something seemingly innocuous he could claim he needed to help Niat that would help liberate them? Aside from the keys to their shackles, he couldn’t think of anything.

  If he could start a fire somehow… but these chains were looped round the center tent pole. He and Niat would be just as likely to burn alive as escape. A bribe was perhaps a possibility, but he had a feeling he lacked the charisma for that.

  He needed some advantage, something he had that they didn’t. Preferably something they didn’t know he had.

  Magic?

  Thanks to Niat, they did not seem to yet know he was a mage. Or perhaps they did and didn’t care. But either way, magic was likely his best weapon.

  A shame there was still too little light to peruse the book. Perhaps it was for the best, as he’d rather lose his knife than that book, so taking it out at all was foolish. No, he’d have to stick with what he’d figured out already. Which was not much.

  Probably a good idea to rest anyway before staging an escape. He turned as much away from Niat and toward the door as he could, and to his surprise, he drifted off to sleep.

  “I NEED you to take a look at this,” King Aven said.

  Almost before the king could unfold the slip of paper he’d removed from his pocket, Tharomar could see something strange was going on. The king held it out.

  Tharomar took the sheet in his hands. It… shimmered.

  Silver rays cut swaths across the thin paper. Impossible. Ro just stared, watching something like starlight snake into fine circles and lines, curls and jagged twists.

  “Can you read this?” the king asked.

  “I’m… not sure,” was all he could manage.

  The paper felt impossibly mundane in his hands, twitching like any normal map in the wind. The ordinary ink on the page looked broken, malformed. But the light was starting to put the pieces together, to fill in the blank spaces.

  Serabain. It was Serabain, but mixing two known alphabets, the ancient and the modern. The broken words slowly solidified before him as new letters bloomed to life, now constructed only of pale starlight.

  Yes. Yes, he could read this. With some work. The real question was should he?

  He glanced nervously at Jaena, then the king, then back at the paper. This was strange magic indeed. What kind of information had someone chosen to encode this way? Something they didn’t want easily found. Who had done it?

  He had a bad feeling about this map.

  “It’s… like a map of Zaera’s,” Ro said slowly.

  “I thought the same,” came a voice from behind him. Ah, yes. That older mage—Wunik, was it?—was now pacing back and forth behind Ro. Jaena and Aven hovered on either side, also gazing down at the map of starlight.

  “But those maps are supposed to be…” Ro hesitated.

  “What?” said Jaena, looking up. Light cast a soft glow across her features, dark eyes searching his and lips slightly parted. Her body was warm against his hip, his arm.

  He swallowed. “They’re supposed to be cursed.”

  “Really?” said Wunik. “I’d never heard such a thing. Fascinating.”

  “What kind of curse?” said Aven.

  “I’m not sure, sire. I could look into it further for you. I just remember they are supposed to be very dangerous.”

  He narrowed his eyes at the map. Could such a magnificent creation truly be dangerous? Evil…? His memories of the maps were a vague swirl in his mind, but he didn’t think he’d read anything good about them. The warnings were all very dire.

  And yet, it was hard to believe anything that shone with light stolen from the heavens could be truly malevolent.

  He shivered. The wind picking up was frigid, yes, but it was more than that.

  As the minutes passed, the map grew brighter and shimmered. Most of the words were whole now, the alphabet a perplexing and arbitrary mix. Probably designed to vex potential translators. But he could make out a few words. Freedom. Was that joy? Or was it the ancient form for jumping? Huh. As wary as he was of this map, he found it a unique, fascinating challenge.

  “Dangerous… how, exactly?” King Aven asked.

  “Oh.” Had he been waiting for Ro to elaborate all that time? Ro shook his head at himself. “I’d have to research more to tell anything for certain.”

  “So… can you read it? Translate it?” Aven gave him a patient smile.

  Ro gritted his teeth and eyed the map again. He could definitely read it. He could probably translate it.

  But whose hard work would he be undoing? Zaera’s, no doubt. Were she here, would she forgive him?

  He stole another quick, measuring glance at the king. He seemed a good man. Not the type that would abuse power or be quick to anything vile, at least based on the little Ro had seen. And without his help, Ro would still be rotting in the basement of Trenedum Palace. At the very least, he owed the king for that.

  May Zaera and the goddess guide his hand. Or make him witless if this was absolutely the wrong thing to do.

  “Yes, I can read this,” Tharomar said finally. “Or at least, I can transliterate it into modern Serabain, and then I will be able to read it. It’ll take some time, maybe a couple of days. But there’s nothing unusual here.”

  He caught the king’s crooked smile out of the corner of his eye.

  “I mean, besides that we’re reading it in the dark.” Ro turned the paper at a sharp angle, trying to understand just how the starlight was doing that.

  The king’s smile broadened. “Glad to hear glowing maps made of starlight aren’t an everyday occurrence for you. I was starting to feel terribly unworldly.”

  Ro smiled back. Aven seemed a tad young for a king. Others would probably disagree. The young man was no lanky teenager, but Tharomar probably had five or even ten years on him. He certainly wasn’t going to ask the king his age and risk offending anyone. He hoped and prayed these Akarians were truly less corrupt than those who ruled Evrical, but he’d only been here a few days. The Assembly meeting had been promising. But some hid their darkness better than others under the cloak of ritual and law. The truth of these Akarians and their ways remained to be seen.

  “Oh, no. Our temple never had or even discussed anything like this,” said Tharomar. “I’ve only read the histories.”

  “Anything else you remember from them?”

  “They mentioned maps, but never in much detail. Just that they existed. Some neglected to say even that.”

  “That’s probably for the best. But did you say ‘they?’ As in, more than one map?”

  Ro rubbed his forehead with one hand, trying to remember, but hastily grabbed the map again when a fresh gust of wind threatened to tear it away. He hadn’t given the stories much weight at the time, thinking Zaera and her maps were myths. Or at best, relics of the past that had nothing to do with their present struggles. “I don’t remember, to be honest. Maybe it was just an
assumption I made.”

  “But your memory was of more than one.”

  “Yes. And, well, wouldn’t you make a copy or two in case one was stolen or destroyed? I can delve into the histories and look, if you have them.”

  “Did you see those books back there?” Jaena said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder and smiling. “I’m sure they’ve got something.” Indeed he hadn’t failed to eye the books longingly as the king had dragged them straight past them and out onto this cold, dark balcony.

  “I think we may have a few. If not in there, then in the library,” the king said. Gods, they had a whole library of books like that? Oh, of course they did. This man was a king. Tharomar had just never been in any situation in his life where such a library might actually be his to examine. Even the order’s temple in Evrical had mostly borrowed and loaned the books from other temples. He’d always had to give them right back. “And Panar has several temples with their own libraries.”

  “I can help with research,” Wunik chimed in from behind. “And possibly even the translation a bit.”

  Tharomar glanced over his shoulder. He hadn’t figured the older mage into his calculation of whether he should translate the map. He sighed. Too late now, plus he had so little to go on. “Of course. The sooner we translate it, the better. I wouldn’t want to delay His Majesty’s mission.”

  “Just sire is fine. Or Aven.”

  “Majesty is a Kavanarian title, I’ve come to realize,” Jaena muttered.

  “Should I start working now, sire?” Ro said, hoping the older mage wouldn’t be game to start right away.

  The king’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, no. It’s not that urgent. We have plenty of urgent concerns, and this isn’t even at the top of the list. Start tomorrow evening, if you wish.”

  “Yes, sire.” Ro bent to inspect the glimmering characters again.

  “Your brother?” Jaena asked. “Any news?”

  The king’s face hardened. “No. We think they’ve taken him out of the city.”

  “We can’t find him with men, horses, or farsight,” Wunik added, voice pained. “Derk and Siliana are still looking.”

  “And what of your father?” Tharomar asked. “He was ill?”

  “He is stable for now, but not comfortable. The creature mages are unable to fully heal him. His wounds fester under the skin even after they are healed.” The king’s face darkened further. Sounded like his father had made the right choice in handing over the crown.

  “Seven hells.” Jaena grimaced. “That’s… I’m sorry to hear that, my lord.” She shivered as another gust of wind blew past them.

  “Let’s go inside,” the king said. “That is, if your curiosity is sated.”

  “Yes, sire,” Tharomar said quickly. “I’m not so curious that I’d like to freeze to death.”

  But he did hesitate a moment longer, drinking in the strange light, before handing the map back to the king.

  Aven held up a palm. “No, you keep it. So you won’t need me when you’re ready to begin. The library is yours to work in, and any balcony you need.”

  “Thank you, sire.” Ro gave a short bow, then followed them all back inside.

  He headed straight for the hearth to warm up and tried not to care that Jae didn’t join him. She did toss him a quick smile as she headed for the mages on the other side of the room. Miara sat with the little girl and older man Ro had crossed paths with at Trenedum. Her family? They were deep into a rooks and pawns game.

  Ro watched as they spoke, marveling at the sight. Here were four mages, all free from Devoted clutches and Kavanarian corruption. Four who had done the impossible. Four more than a month ago. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

  He let the warmth seep into him, both from the fire and the view. He hadn’t had time to pray yet today, so he sent up an invocation of gratitude to the goddess for a day like this.

  All his days were suddenly sweeter, and more precious, thanks to her. Jae caught him staring, and he averted his eyes, grinning wider. Her laughing eyes bored into him as he sought another place to rest his gaze.

  The king and Wunik joined him by the fire. “Did you find accommodations?” the king asked. “In all the chaos, I lost track.”

  Tharomar grinned wider in spite of himself. “I… Yes, I found some, sire.”

  “And were they acceptable? Comfortable?”

  “Well, the bed is a wee bit small for two, but I have no complaints,” he said. “My lord,” he tacked on hastily, clearing his throat.

  Both men’s eyebrows rose now, and they glanced at each other. “I… see,” the king managed. He glanced over his shoulder at Miara, then back at the fire.

  “With your approval of course, my lord,” Ro added.

  “My what? Oh, of course. No approval is needed.” Aven’s eyes were distant now, lost in thought.

  Perhaps this was his chance to ask a favor. “I should also send word back to my order soon,” Ro said. “They may be in danger from the Devoted. I hate to impose, but do you have some simple means to send a message to Evrical?”

  “My journeyman Siliana can send a bird for you,” Wunik said. “Write a scroll, and she can send it tomorrow.”

  “Thank you,” Tharomar replied. “I’ll do it first chance I have.”

  Ro joined the king staring into the fire. What he was going to say to the temple, he wasn’t sure. Of course, he’d tell them about the Devoted’s discovery of the pendants and their purpose. But why hadn’t he been informed of their purpose?

  And what he really wanted to know—had his order known he was a mage?

  He glanced over at Jaena again. She was heading over to join him. A certainty bubbled up inside him, a determination to stick with her as long as she’d have him, no matter the cost. By Nefrana, how had she grown to mean so much to him?

  He tried to put the message out of his mind. It might get him answers, but it wasn’t going to change anything. Nothing that mattered, anyway. He hoped.

  AVEN WAS STILL DWELLING on the discussion with Tharomar when the suite’s door was flung abruptly open. He shoved the irrational bout of jealousy down. Not everyone was born to swear knightly oaths or bear royal progeny. What did it matter if some people had freedoms he didn’t? He’d certainly gotten plenty in exchange. Besides, he’d been born to be king and had never wanted to be anything else. A few weeks of impatience were nothing in the grand scheme of things, right? And he certainly shouldn’t envy Jaena or Tharomar their happiness. They’d been through quite enough.

  Perik made a hasty but ultimately doomed attempt to slow someone down. Derk burst past the poor young man. Siliana hovered fast on his heels.

  “We saw something,” he said, panting as though he’d run the whole way there.

  Siliana added from behind him, “It may be nothing, but—”

  “It’s something, all right.” Derk cast a dark glare at her.

  “You didn’t spot the prince, you just spotted a scrap of fabric, you dolt.”

  “Stop pissing on my campfire.”

  “By the gods, must you be so crude?”

  Derk ignored her. “He’s there, I swear it. Aven, you want to see or not?”

  “And don’t be so familiar,” Siliana chided him.

  Aven stepped forward, giving Siliana a thankful nod. He didn’t particularly care, especially when it came to Derk, but he did appreciate her efforts at decorum. “What did you find?”

  Derk spread his hands, and the air between them ripped open, revealing a view of a forest and a military encampment, all from the twilit sky. “Here. This is a short ride outside of Anonil.”

  All eyes were on Derk, and Aven gestured for the others to come closer. He trusted every one of them—except for possibly Perik, but only because of their short acquaintance. Miara, Jaena, and Ro took him up on the invitation, crowding around. Wunik and Miara’s family held back.

  “This is inside Gilaren Territory?” Aven said.

  “Of course. Where else? See that flag on the l
arge tent?” said Derk.

  A red flag waved. “That’s the flag of Evrical,” Tharomar put in.

  “And the one next to it—that’s Gilaren Territory, right?” Derk said quickly, gesturing with his chin. He couldn’t move his hands without disrupting the spell.

  “Alikar,” Aven growled, gritting his teeth for a moment before he spoke again. “Yes. Look, can you move over there? That’s his carriage. You can even see that cloak of his, right there.”

  “Any sign of Thel in particular?” Miara asked.

  “No,” Derk said. “But I wondered if maybe somebody shouldn’t stop by and ask. Loudly. With weapons.”

  “And arrest that traitor,” Aven added. “The chances that Thel is with Alikar are good. My brother wouldn’t just run off on his own, and Alikar’s just as missing as Thel is. All right, let’s—”

  Miara laid a gentle hand on his arm. “There’s work to be done here, Aven. And you still need to rest.”

  “The others need to rest too.”

  “True, but you’re the king. And your father needs you here.”

  “That line of reasoning has failed me before, I’ll warn you,” called Wunik from the hearth.

  “As I’ve said before, people rarely listen to reason.” Miara smiled slightly, but it faded fast. “You have many who would be willing to help by going. And there’s a war to plan, I believe?”

  Aven only frowned.

  We’ve barely been reunited for barely half a day, she said silently. Surely others can help.

  Who can I trust with my brother’s life? He eyed the tents of the encampment, hoping for some glimpse or confirmation that Thel was truly there.

  You’re going to have to trust a few people. We can’t fight a whole war with Kavanar alone.

  He sighed. That was quite true. “All right. Perik?”

  “Yes, sire?”

  “Get me Warden Asten.”

  The group of them studied the scene as they waited. “Those look like Kavanarian troops to me,” Ro said into the silence.