Star Mage (The Enslaved Chronicles Book 3)

by R. K. Thorne

  “Do what?”

  “Ride away like that,” he said, gesturing at the gate. “From the one I love.”

  “He’s just doing his duty,” she said over the flush of heat the words brought. She instantly regretted the words as pain shot through Ro’s features. “Just like you are,” she added hastily. Obviously she thought being here was his duty, or she wouldn’t have even said that. But they didn’t need to rehash that argument again.

  He only stared after the empty gate, just as Derk was doing, saying nothing.

  “Well, I’m glad you couldn’t do it,” she said, reaching out and taking his arm. “I have work for us to do. But first, let’s pay Miara a visit like our lord asked.”

  Ro let her lead him out of the stable courtyard and back inside, staring at the floor ahead of them, lost in thought.

  “You know, he’s had an easier life than you,” Jaena said gently. “Wealth, security, power, education. He’s been given pretty much everything he could have wanted for his whole life, in exchange for one thing.”

  “What’s that? What one thing?” His eyes bored into her.

  “That if the time came, he’d ride out like he just did.” She squeezed his hand. “So maybe don’t compare yourself too directly to him?”

  “My temple gave me a lot.”

  “Perhaps. But you had less than nothing to start with.” She squeezed his hand again, and she felt some of his resistance melting. “And you have more than ever now.”

  “So does he,” he argued weakly. His eyes were open and liquid though, almost with wonder. “How do you know what I’m thinking so well?”

  She thought about making a magic-related wisecrack but decided it wasn’t the time. “Because I’m just like you.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Oh, I may have been born to different circumstances, but I, too, had less than nothing as a slave. Somehow, we both found our way out. I know I sure as hell don’t want to risk going back to that.”

  A reluctant, crooked smile took over one corner of his mouth. “Well, you may be right. Or you may just have a way with words.”

  “Whatever makes you feel better.” She grinned.

  His stomach chose that moment to growl loudly.

  “Maybe we should get some dinner first, in the interest of making you feel better?”

  He smiled but shook his head. “First things first. I’m not that selfish.”

  She threw up her hands in frustration. “Selfish. That’s what he thinks he is. The absurdity!”

  His smile turned sheepish, but he didn’t take it back. They’d reached the bottom of the stairs to the king’s level. “Wait,” he said, stopping. “Didn’t the steward tell Aven that Miara was with his father?”

  Jaena frowned. “Did she? I wasn’t listening. Elise said she left Samul alone.”

  Ro’s eyes widened. “Exactly.”

  They both turned in unison and raced up the stairs. Miara’s rooms were off to the right here, just around the corner—

  Reaching the top just beside her, Tharomar stopped short, his face suddenly dark.

  Only then did Jaena spot them. The two guards she’d last seen stationed outside Miara’s rooms were collapsed on the ground. No blood stained the marble, but they certainly weren’t guarding what they were supposed to be guarding.

  Ro rushed forward, waking her out of her stupor, and she rushed after him. He leapt over one guard and slammed into the door, not bothering with any kind of formality. The door flew open, unlocked. They spilled into the room.

  A body lay on the floor, dress gray, hair red. Blood pooled around its head.

  Jaena screamed.

  A hand clapped over her mouth, and it took her two long, panicked breaths to calm down enough to realize it was Ro’s hand, not some unseen assailant’s. But that was what he was worried about, wasn’t it? What if whoever had killed her was still here?

  She glanced up at him, but he wasn’t looking at her. He held her tightly against him, eyes darting around the maze of rooms, watching for anyone else.

  But Miara couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t be.

  It was probably wishful thinking, but Jaena slid her mind out across the marble floor, reaching toward the body, groping for a sign of life, something. Not that she could feel it like a creature mage could, not like it meant anything, but by the gods, let her not be dead.

  The image of the statue staring down at the candles flashed through her mind, and an inexplicable wave of emotion hit her—something between anger and betrayal. All lies. Lies to manipulate. There was no good in this world, save perhaps Tharomar, and she was starting to understand. Nothing good lasted. It was only a matter of time before she lost him too.

  As she reeled her mind away from the body, her mind and heart aching, hands shaking, she caught the glimmer of something magical. A spell hung over the body, some kind of creature magic.

  She tugged at his wrist, and he looked down at her in surprise, as if he’d forgotten he still had his hand clapped over her mouth. “Gods, sorry,” he whispered, “I—”

  “I think there’s a spell on the body.”

  “Can you tell what it does? Can you tell if there’s anyone else here?”

  She shook her head. “We need a creature mage—it’s creature magic.”

  “Hold on. Stay right here, don’t move.” He dashed back out into the hallway, and she heard the rasping sound of steel against steel. He reappeared, a sword in each hand he must have taken from the fallen guards. He came close again and held out the hilt of the left one. She took it with a mix of surprise and intense gratification, and then he gestured her to follow him. “We’ll see if this place is empty. If it is, we’ll get Elise. Unless you have any better ideas?”

  She shook her head again. Right now she was barely keeping her ideas in order at all.

  They’d checked about half the rooms when they heard the door open. “Miara!” called a man’s voice, followed by a gasp. Cautiously, Ro eased his way back to the main room.

  Over his shoulder Jaena saw a short, bearded man with his own sword drawn, heading toward the rooms on the opposite side. Who could it be? Friend, or foe returning?

  All their feet were quiet on the stone floor, but some clothing must have rustled, because the man abruptly rounded on them.

  “Who the hell are you two?” the man growled. “And what have you done to her?”

  Ro sank deeper into his fighting stance, so Jaena spoke first. “Aven asked us to come check on her. He was worried when she didn’t show to say goodbye.”

  At the mention of Aven’s name, the man’s face shot through with pain. “Well, he was right to worry, clearly. But how do I know you didn’t do this?”

  “How do we know you didn’t?” she said indignantly.

  “Me!”

  Ro snorted. “He did walk in seeming to expect her alive.”

  Just then, they heard footsteps on the stairs. They all froze.

  Derk appeared in the doorway and stopped, his eyes flicking from the three of them to Miara’s body. No, no, it couldn’t be Miara’s body. Couldn’t be.

  “Shit,” was all he said. The color drained from his face.

  “Derk,” Jaena said quickly. “There’s a spell on the body. We need a creature mage.”

  He slumped against the wall. “What difference does it make? She’s dead.”

  “Someone should call Aven back,” Ro said quickly.

  “Wait, you know these two?” said the bearded man to Derk.

  Derk nodded. “Jaena is—was—a friend of Miara’s. If she did this, any of us could have.”

  “I sure as the seven hells didn’t. And who’s he?” Jaena demanded.

  “I’m Master of Arms Devol. Trained Aven since he was a boy.”

  They all scowled, at each other, at the body, at the floor.

  “Should I go get Elise?” Ro asked finally.

  Derk nodded weakly, still staring at the blood.

  Jaena moved to stand beside him, finally l
owering her sword but keeping her hand tight on the grip. “Who could have done this? Wait till we see what the spell is.”

  Derk only shook his head, ran a hand over his face, and stared. Jaena faced the opposite direction, toward the door. Staring at the body was unnecessary; the sight was already burned into her brain.

  The queen came slowly inside and stopped, her face draining too, as if it hadn’t already looked exhausted enough. Ro must have told her some of what to expect, as she didn’t look surprised. “This is my fault,” she whispered.

  “My lady,” Jaena said quickly—and perhaps a touch impatiently. Sometimes being an earth mage felt impossibly pointless and ineffectual. “There’s a spell still hanging on the body. Before you grieve, can you see what it is, please?”

  “Oh. Yes.” Elise nodded and stepped closer now, coming up alongside Derk and Jaena and closing her eyes. Yes, that might make it easier to concentrate in the face of horror.

  Jaena watched Elise, still too disturbed to look at the body, but when Derk’s eyebrows rose and his mouth fell open, she finally turned to look.

  The gray dress, the red hair, all of it was gone. A man lay where the illusion of Miara’s form had been. A man Jaena didn’t recognize. She let out a breath, feeling relieved. Then she grabbed the queen’s arm and tugged, and Elise opened her eyes.

  “Nyor,” the queen said, clenching her fists.

  “Oh, thank the gods,” muttered Derk.

  Jaena shook her head and rubbed her brow. “It’s got to be a sin to feel as relieved as I do right now. Especially over a dead man’s body. Who’s Nyor?”

  “The healer,” said Elise. “He’d only just left a few minutes before I came out to see Aven off. This must have happened in the few minutes we were down there.”

  “Is he dead?” asked Devol, stalking up to the man and peering at him, but looking like he didn’t want to touch him.

  “Oh, yes,” Elise breathed, as if she found that comforting.

  “But then where is Miara?” asked Derk.

  “She may not be here,” said Devol, “but she could still be dead. There’s definitely something foul afoot here. Not a mark on his skin, no injuries. The blood’s just run out of his nose. And mouth. And his eyes too, by the gods.” He backed away warily.

  “Both those guards are dead. No blood. No wounds on them either,” said Ro, returning from the hall. “What do we do?”

  No one said anything for a long minute.

  “Search the castle. We need to get people searching. And call them back,” said Jaena. “Aven needs to know what happened. He knew something wasn’t right—”

  Elise held up a hand to stop her. “No. We can’t call them back.”

  “He’ll want to know,” said Ro, his voice cold. “And Miara’s father needs to know too.”

  “You’re right. Aven would want to know. I promise you I’ll send word. And I’ll tell Pytor myself. First we must start the search, as you’ve said. Devol, get the captain of the guard. Organize a search as quickly as you can.” Devol nodded and headed out of the room at a run. “I trust you’ve already searched these rooms?” Elise asked, glancing around.

  “We hadn’t quite finished. But I think anyone that’s here has had plenty of chance to clear out now. But hold on a moment.” Ro started on the far side they hadn’t yet explored.

  “I beg your pardon, my lady,” Jaena said, struggling to be cautious and deferential and failing, “but we should contact the king. He may want to change his plans.” She put a slight emphasis on the word “king” because it felt close to disobeying his wishes to not contact him about this.

  “I understand your concern, and you’re probably right. But we can handle looking for her. Him being here or there shouldn’t change anything.”

  “But, my lady—” Jaena started.

  “A city has fallen,” Elise said, her voice loud and stopping Jaena cold. “The fall of Anonil to Kavanar is likely the result of treachery rather than an actual military gain, but it’s extremely serious. We knew Lord Alikar’s betrayal would have an impact on Gilaren, but soon they’ll be ready to move beyond that. Aven has to find a way to stop them, and I’m not entirely sure he can. And he has to do it before they reach the capital.”

  Jaena’s eyes widened. “Here?”

  “I’m surprised they haven’t headed here first.” Elise shook her head. “With mages in their ranks… it’s a blessing.”

  Jaena frowned. “How many mages?”

  “We don’t know. Think of the destruction even a few could create. Aven has to go north. He has to face them out there, in the open land, in the smaller cities at worst. If he can’t figure something out, think of what might happen if their mages and their army arrive here. Or in any large city.”

  Jaena’s mind was already working. Even with a handful of mages, the impact could be devastating. She’d had a fairly devastating impact on the palace where she’d rescued Ro. If she’d wanted to bring the building to the ground, she could have done so easily.

  Of course, they’d never taught her tricks like that at Mage Hall. Earth mages had the general reputation of being pathetically impractical, good to enrich a field or two, move a boulder a bit, but not much more. Everyone knew air mages were the most powerful, wielding wind and raging storms. And the stars, although few knew about that.

  A chill ran down her spine. Maybe all that nonsense was only what they wanted mage slaves to believe. Maybe air mages were not really the most powerful. Maybe the Masters simply wanted other mages to believe that was the case. But why? So they wouldn’t attempt to push their powers? Jaena certainly hadn’t tried to until she’d been free, until she’d needed anything her magic could dish out.

  Maybe I could be more powerful than any of them, a quiet voice said. Maybe not… but maybe. Such a possibility had never seemed even on the table, and now some part of her whispered that it might be the truth.

  She swallowed and pictured the city as they’d seen it from the tower while the catapults attacked. She’d been so focused on the brand, the star map, whether or not Tharomar was leaving, that the war hadn’t seemed real. It hadn’t started for her yet. But now… she imagined if she were attacking the city, what she’d do.

  She’d start by tearing down the walls. It’d take some work, but if there were ten or even five mages to help, the walls could be tumbled into a small rubble-strewn hill in half a day perhaps. Then there were the towers—already proven easily reachable by catapult. They might be too high and far into the city to be within range from outside, but if she got closer, if she made it inside, she could tumble those stones into a nondescript heap, taking out anyone and everyone inside. The same went for the buildings, but she thought they’d topple the towers, clear and visible examples of conquest. The possibilities for what creature or air mages could do if they came close enough were almost too numerous to count, but in her training, she’d seen the air mages favor fire. Waves of it. Pillars. Walls could easily take out large groups of troops. Wasn’t that what Derk had encountered?

  Gods, why hadn’t she warned them more specifically? She’d been so focused on finding a way to destroy the brand—

  Ro grabbed her shoulder. “What is it?” When had he come back into the room? She just stared up at him for a moment, unsure of how to articulate all that had just raced through her head.

  “She’s realizing we’re screwed,” said Derk quietly.

  “No, we’re not,” Jaena snapped.

  “Miara said they have five hundred mages,” he shot back. “Even if they bring only fifty of them, are you telling me you think we can fight them off?”

  Jaena jutted out her chin and squared her shoulders, refusing to be cowed. Of course, he’d seen a lot of men killed by magic not so long ago, and she hadn’t, but she didn’t care. “Are you telling me you think we can’t? Some big-talking mage you are.”

  “Now, now, is this really the time for fluffing our feathers and—” Elise started, but Ro surprised her by laying a hand on
the queen’s arm. She quieted and looked at him in surprise.

  “You know, you’re right, Derk,” Jaena continued. “We should just lay down and put a sign out front saying, Free city, Yours for the taking! They stole our future queen so we should probably just roll over and ask for our bellies scratched like dogs.”

  Derk scowled at her, anger simmering under the surface. At just that moment, the captain of the guard arrived, Devol with him, to tell them a search of the entire city had begun. Elise took the man aside, closer to the dead man’s body.

  Derk headed for the door, and Jaena followed him, Ro hot on her heels. That bastard air mage wasn’t getting off the hook that easily.

  “I guess I overestimated you,” Jaena said coldly to his back. He stopped ahead of her. “We’ll just have to—”

  “No, you didn’t.” He turned, his jaw clenched like he knew what she was doing, but it was working anyway.

  “You’re right, we’re outnumbered, but I, for one, am not giving up.”

  “Your persistence and stubbornness won’t be enough to win the day. Not alone, anyway. Wanting to survive doesn’t help you survive.”

  “You’re wrong. It does,” she snapped. She had wanted to survive more than anything, and it had gotten her through some very dark days, especially after she’d lost Dekana, so she knew better than anyone. “Wanting to survive more than anyone else will help us figure out how to beat them. In spite of the odds.”

  “We can’t,” he said simply. “We just can’t. There’s too many—”

  “We can’t beat them spell for spell, but what if we could keep them from casting them in the first place?”

  Derk frowned.

  “How?” said Ro quickly, focused only on her.

  “We don’t let them finish a spell to begin with.” She rubbed her chin, her mind racing.

  “How do we do that?” Ro leaned forward.

  Derk’s eyes perked up. “You’re thinking… disrupt them?”

  “We need some degree of concentration to start and hold a spell,” said Jaena. “It’s not a lot, but some.”

  “When the troops trying to save Thel attacked,” said Derk, “he was able to knock a few of them down, kept them from being effective. I think he might have saved us from an even worse attack. You’re saying, we find some way to do that en masse?”