Catalyst Moon: Incursion (The Catalyst Moon Saga Book 1)

by Lauren L. Garcia

  However, hope was not lost. If any of the sentinels who'd been taken down today had survived, they'd get word of the attack to the sentinel commander in Whitewater City, who in turn would likely send out a search party for himself and Mage Halcyon.

  If no one had survived...

  There were no sentinel outposts between here and Whitewater City, which meant he would not have more resources – or backup – until he reached the main city walls. Perhaps he'd be lucky and come across a fleet rider along the road, or find one in a village along the way. Somehow, he had to get word of the Canderi attack to the nearest sentinel garrison, in Whitewater City.

  Suddenly, he was exhausted.

  Bahar's face appeared in his mind's eye, as it often did in his worst moments. His elder brother was dead and gone; mourning him any longer was useless. Stonewall shoved the memory aside as he'd grown accustomed to doing the last three years. None of that mattered right now. The end result was always the same: he was alone.

  Rather than dwell on the task he faced, he dug into his pouch to tally his stores of hematite, for it seemed he would need another dose to supplement, not only his healing, but his endurance.

  He had a long road ahead.

  ***

  When Kali opened her eyes, she was bound again. The boiled leather cuffs were tight, particularly where the embedded hematite touched her skin. As before – as always – her senses were dulled by the hematite's presence, as if someone had placed a veil between her and the rest of the world. The air lacked sweetness; the sun seemed less bright. Kali, too, felt...less.

  But hematite was a familiar hardship of a mage's life. After a moment she was accustomed to the lack of sensations and was able to ignore it – for the most part – in favor of studying her sentinel escort.

  In full daylight and not in a blind panic, Kali got her first decent look at Stonewall as he checked their mount. His helmet rested in the grass beside him, along with the gray, glinting armor that normally covered his upper-body. Light brown skin echoed the story his accent had told, marking him as one who'd been born and raised in the southernmost province. Broad hands, covered in dozens of cuts and scratches from a lifetime of wielding blades, deftly felt along the horse's dappled gray legs.

  “Good girl,” he murmured as the mare lipped at his close-cropped black hair. “You'll get a bushel of apples once this ordeal is over.”

  Despite everything, Kali smiled.

  Just then, Stonewall turned his back to her and Kali's breath caught at the sight of blood seeping through a spot on his left shoulder. She was still groggy from...well, everything, but this made her try to rise.

  But her knee gave out and she collapsed with a hiss. She tried again, slower and more carefully, using a nearby boulder for leverage. Pain shot up from her knee; she bit her tongue to keep from crying out but it was too much, and she dropped back to the ground, swearing.

  This caught the sentinel's attention. He looked back at her, alarm written in eyes the color of a jar of honey held up to the sun. “You're injured?”

  She tried to pull herself upright once again, but another lance of pain made her rethink the decision. Perhaps her knee needed a few more moments' rest. “Sort of.”

  “You're either injured or you're not.”

  Kali exhaled and pressed her palm to her knee, as if she could magic the pain away. “It's something I was born with. My left knee gets...cranky when I push it too hard. Or,” she added wryly, “ride in such an awkward position.”

  The sentinel's gaze flickered between her face and her knee, but she could not guess his thoughts. Finally he frowned. “None of the other mages could help you?”

  “Not at Starwatch.” She nodded to his shoulder. “How bad is it?”

  His eyes tightened but his tone was polite. “I've had worse.”

  “I can try to help you...”

  She trailed off when he shook his head. He seemed to debate something, then got to his feet, pulled a flask of water free from the horse's saddle and stepped over to offer it. As she accepted, he indicated the surrounding area with a sweeping hand. “I think you've done enough magic for today.”

  She chose to ignore the censure in his voice. The water was warm but she took a few good swallows before glancing around. Atal, the first moon, hung near the horizon; half of a fading, silver coin against the bright blue sky. Seren, the mage moon, ascended at the opposite horizon; a crescent slowly waxing to fullness. The cliff that had nearly taken Kali's life was several paces away, harmless now, but still too close for comfort.

  “Where are we?” she asked. His answering bark of laughter startled her. She scowled. “Care to share the joke?”

  Rather than reply, he made to cross his arms before his chest, winced, then rested his hands upon his dagger-hilts instead. “Don't you know? You brought us here.”

  She set the flask down and looked around again. The hilly grasslands seemed to ripple in the bright afternoon sunlight. “It looks a bit like Delian Colm's descriptions of Silverwood Province,” she said slowly. “But that's impossible. That would mean we're days away from Whitewater City.”

  “As best I can figure, that's exactly where we are,” Stonewall replied, gaze falling to her newly-bound wrists before he shifted and his shadow fell across her. “And I'm curious how you managed such a spectacular feat.”

  The pain in her knee had ebbed, so she decided to try to get up again, but by the time she was half-upright, he'd reached for his sword. He did not draw it, but the action was enough to freeze her in place, though her knee twinged unhappily.

  “Why did you remove the cuffs?”

  Against her better sense, Kali held up her bound wrists. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Mage Halcyon.” His voice was quieter now, and darker. To further get his point across, he kept one hand on his sword as he glared down at her. No, this was not a joking matter to him; it shouldn't really be one to her, either.

  Eyes locked on the sword, Kali swallowed tightly. “I meant what I said in the carriage. I wasn't about to die helpless. Don't say you wouldn't have done the same.”

  He was silent.

  For a few heartbeats, mage and sentinel stared at each other while Kali's legs slowly went numb from her awkward kneeling position. This is ridiculous, she thought at last, and made to stand up. Of course, the moment she moved, the sentinel tensed again.

  Kali took a deep breath and spoke as gently as she could. “I'm just trying to get to my feet, but it's going to take me a moment. Calm down.”

  He frowned again – was that his habitual expression? – and his eyes did not leave her as she stood up. The brief respite had eased the pain in her knee, though her movements were somewhat shaky given her weakened state, and she could already feel that her arse and thighs would be sore from riding. Lovely.

  When she could more or less look him in the eye, she tried to explain. “I did try to do some magic earlier, but I didn't know it would work...the way it did. I certainly didn't mean to bring us so far from our destination. All I wanted was to get away from those bandits that killed your fellows. They shot you too,” she added when his jaw tightened. “For all I knew, you were dead, or well on your way. Was I supposed to let them kill me too?”

  Something changed on his face and he looked away from her. However, when he replied, his voice was firm. “How did you bring us here?”

  “I don't know how, exactly” she said. “All I know is that I was scared, and I tried to do something about it...I suppose the magic got away from me.”

  “The magic got away from you,” he repeated slowly. “That doesn't make me feel any better.”

  “You're not alone. But I promise I wasn't trying to escape your custody.”

  The warm sunlight created a pleasant counterpoint to the wind. A breeze slipped between them and rifled their clothing as the sentinel regarded her. “The thought crossed my mind.”

  Rather than reply, Kali leaned against the boulder and assessed her own condition. Exhausted,
wobbly...not ideal in the least. With a few hours' respite, she could probably perform a few small bits of magic, but it might be a day or so before she could manage anything substantial. Assuming the sentinel was inclined to unbind her, which, given the way he glowered, was unlikely.

  Despite her weariness, excitement fluttered within her. What exactly had she done to bring them here? Could she do it again? Could other mages?

  “Believe it or not,” she said at last. “I wasn't being transferred against my will. I actually want to go to Whitewater City.”

  “Why?” If anything, he scowled harder. Sweet stars, how did he manage such a feat?

  In response, Kali flashed a smile that was all teeth. “That's none of your business.”

  To her surprise, Stonewall gave a mirthless chuckle and muttered, “Tor, help me.”

  “Help both of us,” she added, though she rolled her eyes at the pious remark. “Especially you, with that injured shoulder.” His mouth opened as if to protest, but she met his eyes. “It must hurt, Stonewall. I can try to help you.”

  “It does hurt,” he admitted. “But that doesn't matter.” He tapped a hand against a small, square pouch at his belt. “No magic of yours will work on me.”

  Won't it? She kept the thought to herself. Surely, if the sentinel was immune to her magic because of the hematite in his body, he would have been left behind – somehow. But here he was, glaring at her through the light of the sun.

  Something cold settled in the pit of her stomach, but she kept her voice even. “I suppose we should get underway. It seems we have a bit of a walk ahead.”

  “Don't you need to rest?”

  “Don't you?” She pointedly looked at his shoulder.

  They regarded each other for a few moments, then he sighed. “Fair enough. We'll take it slow and stop early. Will that work for you, Mage Halcyon?”

  She pretended to consider very carefully and took no small amusement in the way he frowned. “You have a deal, Sentinel.”

  THREE

  “What are you doing?”

  Stonewall ignored the mage and tipped half of the vial's contents down his throat in one go. He winced at the metallic tang of the hematite, but the discomfort was short lived. A familiar, delicious heat swam through each vein and muscle, followed by a rush of energy and a sharpening of each sense; he closed his eyes to better savor the feelings.

  Thank Tor his personal supply of hematite was plentiful. He was taking a risk with another dose – even a half-dose – within days of the last, but he would not be caught unprepared again. Hopefully they were far away from their attackers, but only the gods knew what waited over the next hill.

  “Stonewall?”

  Or what lay in the heart of the mage trying to get his attention.

  Mentally counting the seconds, he inhaled again and allowed the next phase of hematite ingestion, a churning gut, to pass through him like the wind rifling through the grass on either side of the road. The heat that flooded him had reached the point of discomfort, but he had experienced the effects many times and knew how to bear them. Deep breaths helped, as did a calm and quiet mind. He focused on the cool brush of wind.

  When the final wave of nausea passed, he stretched his neck and arms, testing his body. He was stronger, more awake and alert. Still a little too warm, but that would soon pass, as the air would be chilly when the day faded into evening.

  Mage Halcyon sat atop the horse, looking down at him like he'd sprouted a second set of arms. “There you are,” she said, frowning. “I was starting to wonder if you were still behind those eyes.”

  Prior to this, he had replaced his gear and offered her some soothing thalo gel for her knee. She had refused, saying it would do no good, although she had accepted his help getting back on the horse. He'd have to make the journey on foot. All that had remained was, in his mind, a precaution against another attack, just in case the demon-Canderi had magic of their own that allowed them to travel the countryside in the span of a few heartbeats.

  Rather than answer her, he tucked the half-drained vial in a pouch at his belt and withdrew his daggers for one last look before setting out again. The triangular blades, each about as long as his forearm, shone in the bright light. Sentinel daggers had no hilt, but rather a horizontal grip that allowed each blade to sit above his knuckles. As always, the daggers' weights were a comfort.

  Somewhat more at ease, he sheathed his weapons and gathered the horse's reins and the chain that bound the mage's cuffs together. If she tried to steal the horse, she would only get jerked from the saddle. Stonewall led the horse along the dirt road that stretched out before them.

  The mage said nothing for a few minutes, then cleared her throat. “You took hematite.”

  There was no point in concealing the fact. “Aye.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanted to.”

  “Didn't you take some before we left Starwatch?”

  He frowned. “What do you know of that?”

  “It's standard practice before a long mission.” Her voice turned quizzical. “But that was probably only a few days ago. Why would you take some now?”

  Stonewall shook his head. “That's not your concern.” He meant to keep silent, but his blood swam hot in his veins and filled him with an urge to run, to jump, to move. But as he could only keep this steady pace, he made use of the extra energy and added, “I only took a half-dose, just to stay sharp.”

  She made a noncommittal noise but was mercifully silent, at least for a moment. Then, “What happens if you take too much?”

  “I won't.”

  “But if you did...?”

  He sighed. Gods help me. “It wouldn't be pleasant.”

  “And if you don't take enough?”

  Stonewall halted the horse and glanced up at her. The sun had fallen nearly to the horizon and appeared to be right behind her head, so that he had to squint when he looked up at her. Even then, her face was obscured by the light. Odd; she seemed to know some facets of sentinel behavior, but not others. Perhaps she'd picked up some knowledge from the sentinels at Starwatch.

  “Why so many questions?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “I thought I ought to seize the chance to ask you questions when you're inclined to answer. Besides,” she cast him a smile that made him want to look elsewhere, “I can't help that I've a curious nature.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Try.”

  He pointedly looked away from her and tugged the horse along a little faster down the road. Though, after a beat, he relented to the urge to do something, even if it was only talk. “If I were to miss a dose, I would start to feel weak, but it would be bearable. If I missed several doses...” He trailed off, frowning. “No sentinel risks missing more than a few doses. Going without hematite is dangerous.”

  “Almost as dangerous as taking it in the first place.”

  “A shorter life is the price we pay,” he replied, perhaps a little sharper than was necessary. But his blood still burned and suddenly he was eager for a fight – of any kind. “Honor. Service. Sacrifice. Sentinels are needed to preserve the balance in the One's world; we're a part of something larger than ourselves, something sacred.”

  Not a bad place to be for an orphaned boy who used to sleep in filth-strewn alleys. He glanced back at her again. “Does that satisfy your 'curious nature?'”

  To his surprise, her face twisted with bitterness. “Not really. I'll never understand.”

  Unsettled, he looked away from her and studied the stretch of road ahead, searching for any familiar landmarks. The initial rush of hematite was already fading, leaving him more clear-headed.

  Once he'd put his thoughts in order, he glanced her way again. “Mage Halcyon, my goal is to see that you reach the bastion at Whitewater City in one piece. It's my duty to keep you safe, but it's also my duty to keep you from hurting anyone else, whether you mean to or not. By your own admission, you don't have complete control of your magic. Right?”

  Her lips thinne
d but after she nodded once, he continued. “In order for me to do my duty, I must make sure your magic won't work on me. I took more hematite because of you.”

  Prepared for indignation, he was startled to see her eyes glaze over as if she were lost in thought. “Aye, I can't figure that part out. If my magic isn't supposed to work on you, how did I manage to bring us here?”

  How, indeed? Had he not taken enough hematite prior to the mission? A single dose had always been sufficient and though he was no burnie, he was not nearly a cinder's age, either. But what other explanation could there for magic affecting him? Anxiety squirmed in his guts and his free hand crept to his belt pouch, where he'd stored the hematite vials.

  No. He'd taken enough. Mara's mercy, he'd taken more than enough, judging from his easy replies to the mage's incessant questions. He'd been thrown headfirst into a completely new, not to mention unorthodox situation, so he could only proceed as best he could. Beyond that, he was at the mercy of the gods. He released a deep breath and lowered his hand away from his belt pouch.

  Heedless of his internal struggle, Mage Halcyon was still chattering away. “...no record of this happening ever before, though we still don't understand everything about magic. Perhaps I just moved myself, and you and the horse were simply brought along...

  She trailed off, staring at the horizon, until Stonewall cleared his throat to get her attention. “Speculation aside,” he said. “I have a duty. A little extra hematite helps.”

  It was difficult to make out her expression with the setting sun positioned behind her head, but he thought she looked troubled. “You don't have anything to fear from me – and I'm not going anywhere.”

  She shifted her left knee as a reminder, but what she said didn't matter; she was still dangerous. Not only had she slipped out of one set of binders, she'd performed a powerful – and unfamiliar – feat of magic. Hematite should keep him safe from a mage, but somehow, it was hard to trust in that old certainty right now.