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

by Lauren L. Garcia

  Neither spoke to her, so after a moment Kali cleared her throat.

  Aderey straightened as much as he could, given the small space. “The wound is on her stomach,” he said to Kali. He made one more comment to his wife, then awkwardly shuffled past Kali in an effort not to touch her. “See if you can't magic away some of her stubbornness, too, while you're at it.”

  The Sufani woman cursed at him, then glared at Kali again. “Go away, outsider,” she said in heavily accented Aredian. “I don't need your help...”

  She would have been more credible if not for the groan of pain that stole her breath. Her eyes were bloodshot and fever-bright, with dark splotches of purple beneath as if she'd not slept in weeks. Her nose and forehead gleamed with sweat. A sickly smell hung about her as well, one that heralded a festering wound.

  Kali knelt by her side. “What is your name?”

  The Sufani woman swore – Kali didn't need to know their language to guess that – and glanced past Kali's shoulder. From where he waited by the caravan's door, Aderey said something to his wife, in a gentler tone than before. She closed her eyes and seemed to gather her strength before she looked at Kali again.

  “Ytel.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  “'Yee-tell?' Is that right?” Kali asked. Ytel nodded and Kali tried to keep her next words soothing. “I'm Kali. I'm a mage. I'd like to try and help you, but I need to see what I'm dealing with. Will you allow me to uncover your wound?”

  Ytel hesitated. “I don't...”

  “Your family is very concerned about you,” Kali interjected gently. “At least let me look.”

  Ytel glanced at her husband again, then nodded once. Carefully, Kali drew back the layers of blanket, though she left Ytel's scarf in place. The smell struck first. Rotting flesh; a sure sign of a festering wound. No wonder Ytel was in such a state. As Kali peeled back the linen bandages wrapped around Ytel's torso, the Sufani woman sucked in her breath and clenched her hands, but did not cry out. Kali held her breath and tried not to wince as she studied the wound. It was not large, but it was angry, and would kill its bearer if left much longer.

  “Can you help her?” Aderey's voice was tight.

  “I think so. It might take a few minutes, and I'll need you to be very quiet.” Kali met Ytel's eyes again. “I must touch the skin near the site of the wound to heal you. Will you allow me to do so?”

  Ytel tensed again, wide eyes darting from Kali to her husband and back, as she gathered her courage. Like most people, she probably had no idea what magic entailed, and so had no idea what lay in store for her in these next few moments. Given recent events, Kali thought she hardly understood magic herself. Ytel must be terrified to rely upon her mercy; as far as she knew, mages could turn blood to water and bones to dust.

  “It's a terrifying gift that you have been given, Kali,” Jonas had often said. “The One has entrusted you with great power, so you must always use it wisely.”

  Indeed, how frightening it must be to stand on the edge of the unknown.

  So Kali was patient.

  Eventually, Ytel exhaled. “Very well,” she whispered.

  “Thank you.”

  Kali splayed her palms at the base of the woman's abdomen, along either side of the wound, and closed her eyes. Even without the cuffs, her concentration was not what it should have been, for she was still tired from yesterday. Would she be strong enough to heal this wound?

  Forget everything else and just focus, she told herself. The particles at the site of the injury had clustered together like an angry swarm of bees, but this was worse than other wounds she'd encountered. As Aderey had implied, the injury had festered to the point of sickness. However, unlike what often happened with wounds like this, the agitated particles were not confined to any single area, but spread throughout Ytel's entire body. Further investigation revealed some sort of wrongness in Ytel's particles – a kind of alien presence – but surely that was due to the fever.

  But it was still unlike anything Kali had seen before. Very strange. In any case, she had a job to do, so Kali turned her attention to soothing the agitated particles. She imagined them as a hot, bright crimson, and focused on cooling their color, coaxing them to fade into orange, saffron, buttery yellow, then to a more temperate green and blue. Imagining the particles in this way was a useful trick she'd picked up from one of the better healers at Starwatch. Sure enough, the agitated particles began to calm as the wrongness dissipated. Crimson cooled to mild blue, and in the back of Kali's mind she marked the even pace of the Ytel's breath.

  “Ytel...”

  Kali opened her eyes to see the Aderey at her side, gaping between the mage and his wife, whose pallor had improved. At the sound of her husband's voice, Ytel's eyes fluttered open and flickered around, searching.

  “Is it safe to touch her?”Aderey asked.

  Kali nodded. “Yes. I’m done.”

  The simple movement made her aware of her physical body once more; her bones felt strange and heavy, while her head no longer felt attached to her neck. To give herself a few moments to recover from the effort of using her magic, she did not stand immediately. Aderey rested a hand on his wife's arm and they spoke quietly as he examined her torso, where the wound had scabbed over. Though Ytel's movements were weak, the brightness had receded from her eyes and she seemed more alert.

  When her senses cleared, Kali stood up – slowly. “I think you'll be fine, but you should take it easy for a while.”

  Neither Sufani replied, so she turned, thinking to leave and give them some privacy, but was stopped by the sound of Ytel's voice. The words were barely a murmur, but Kali caught them anyway.

  “Thank you, stranger.”

  ***

  Meanwhile...

  “Can the mage manage it?”

  Stonewall automatically reached for his absent weapons as Leal and a handful of other Sufani surrounded him. But none of them moved to attack, so he took another breath to try to relax before he replied. “Perhaps. She's not very well-rested, and I don't know what state your mother is in.”

  Leal winced. “The fever's lasted for too long. We hoped it would break last night, but...”

  Her voice trailed into nothing and her shoulders slumped. For the first time, Stonewall wondered how old she was. She was a solid warrior – he'd have the bruises to prove it – but he saw no trace of her former confidence.

  “If it was so bad, why didn't you request aid from the Circle?” he asked.

  To his surprise, Leal snorted, all brusqueness once more. “They wouldn't have sent a piccolo player to entertain us, let alone one of their captive mages to offer aid.”

  “You didn't ask?”

  “There was no point,” she replied flatly.

  Stonewall frowned. “The Circle may not approve of...your people, but surely if you needed help, they would give it.”

  “You don't understand.” Leal crossed her arms and drew herself upright. “We live outside of your tiers, therefore we have no place in your Aredian society. We must protect our way of life, since no one else will.”

  “That's very well, but why leave your own mother to suffer? What good does that do?”

  Green eyes, the same color as Aderey's, flashed as Leal replied. “Why do you poison your body and sentence yourself to an unnaturally short life, just so you can resist the effects of a magic-user?”

  “Because my life is not as important as those I serve,” Stonewall shot back, even as his hand crept to one of the pouches at his belt. “Someone has to protect the world against magic. There must be balance.”

  “There must also be tolerance,” Leal said. “Some beliefs are strong enough to dictate extreme action. It is not your place to judge us, Sentinel, just as we should not judge you. Isn't that what the One teaches?”

  Much to his annoyance, a hot flush crept up Stonewall's neck and to his ears. He sorely missed his helmet – and the way it concealed his face. “Something like that.”

  “Everyone travels
her own road,” Leal added, some of the edge fading from her voice as she looked at her parents' caravan. Out of the corner of his eye, Stonewall caught sight of a younger Sufani peeking from behind the caravan, watching the others intently. The moment the child saw him looking, however, she – or he – ducked out of sight.

  The caravan door opened and Halcyon stuck her head out, blinking as if emerging from a deep sleep. There were new, blue-gray smudges beneath her eyes, and her skin seemed paler. How much of her energy had she used for the task?

  Leal stepped toward the mage, hope coloring her voice. “Is she...?”

  “She'll be fine,” Halcyon said as she clambered down the caravan's stairs. “Her fever has–”

  Stonewall, too, had moved to help her down. She'd frozen in place, looking at his extended hand before she accepted it and allowed him to guide her to the ground.

  The mage's lips parted as if she was going to say something to Stonewall, but she glanced at Leal and continued. “There was a...sickness in her blood, but her fever has broken and her wound has scabbed over.”

  “She speaks truly,” Aderey said as he emerged from the caravan behind the mage.

  Halcyon nodded. “Provided she has enough rest, I think your mother will make a full recovery.”

  Leal visibly relaxed, though she cast the mage a speculative look. “Wait...sickness? You mean 'infection?'”

  “Not quite,” Halcyon replied, brow furrowing. “It's difficult to explain. Simply put, something was...wrong, and now it's been set right.”

  “Have any of your other people shown signs of sickness?” Stonewall asked Aderey.

  The Sufani leader exchanged glances with his daughter. “No. Aside from you, we've had no contact with outsiders for some time, save the Canderi raiders that Ytel, Leal, and the other scouts encountered a few days back. That was a...skirmish.”

  Leal's head dropped, murmuring softly in the Sufani tongue. “I should have been faster,” she added in hoarse Aredian. “She nearly died defending me.”

  Something in Stonewall's chest tightened at the sight of Leal's bowed head and at the pain the young woman's voice. I should have been stronger.

  “She would willingly give her life for you and your sister,” Aderey replied, placing a hand on his daughter's back. “As would I.”

  Leal shrugged his hand away and crossed her arms before her chest. A strange silence fell over the group until Stonewall cleared his throat.

  “Canderi?” he asked. “This far south?”

  “Aye,” Leal said, looking up. “It's been happening more and more of late. You've not noticed?”

  Stonewall and the mage exchanged glances before Halcyon shook her head.

  Leal looked to her father. Aderey wrapped his arms close about him, as if holding himself together. “I've heard talk of men and women – Canderi and Aredian alike – possessed by demons, roaming the countryside and preying on the helpless and the not-so-helpless. Stories of fighters so fierce that they rip their foes apart limb from limb. Stories of packs of them moving like the massive lycanthra wolves, hunting their prey with the same kind of ruthlessness. Stories of men and women with eyes that burn like stars, who bring terror and death wherever they go.”

  “But surely those are just stories,” Halcyon said. “The kinds of tales told to children, to scare them into behaving.”

  “Tell that to my mother,” Leal snapped.

  Aderey placed a hand on her shoulder again, but it did not seem to be in an effort to silence her. This time, he dipped his head and exhaled deep enough to flutter his green cowl. When he looked up, all apprehension had fled his eyes and there was a smile in his next words as he addressed the mage. “Such conviction. You make me thankful I'm so old. I would not trade places with a young person for all the coin in the world.”

  Spots of pink crept to Mage Halcyon's cheeks, but she did not retort.

  “I've come across many Canderi who fought like wolves,” Stonewall said, hoping to draw the mage's attention away from the Sufani leader. “Those who attacked us yesterday, though...there was something very, very wrong with them.”

  “They were fierce fighters, to be sure,” Halcyon replied, brows knitting. “But are you suggesting they were...whatever he's saying? Demons?”

  “You've seen people like I described?” Aderey asked.

  Leal's eyes grew wide; she withdrew a dagger from a hidden sheathe beneath her robes. “Where?”

  Stonewall hesitated; how in the void could he adequately explain yesterday? Ea's tits, he still had no clear notion. Perhaps it was best to keep their story vague for now. “Aye. At the edge of Whitewater. My squad was escorting Mage Halcyon when we were set upon by Canderi. She and I managed to escape. I don't know if anyone else was so fortunate.”

  “Fortunate, indeed,” Aderey said. “But I take it from your furrowed brow that these were no ordinary Canderi?”

  “No. Their attack was too fierce, even for Canderi, and they killed so many of my brothers and sisters, so quickly...”

  “There were a lot of them,” Halcyon said when Stonewall trailed off. “And they caught your squad by surprise. I don't think there was a trick to it.”

  Stonewall held her gaze. “And the shrieking? What do you make of that?”

  Even now, the memory sent a chill up his spine. Halcyon seemed to feel the same way, for her mouth opened but an explanation didn't come. She shook her head.

  Aderey glanced between the sentinel and the mage. “Shrieking? I assume you are not referring to a Canderi battle-cry?”

  “No. These people made...other noises,” the mage said, shivering.

  “Unholy, terrible shrieking,” Stonewall added. “I've never heard the like, and I've heard a great many unpleasant things.”

  “Did their eyes glow?” Leal asked Stonewall.

  He hesitated, looking at the mage, then shook his head. “Perhaps, but I can't say for certain. I didn't get a good look.”

  “We were otherwise occupied,” Halcyon added.

  Leal straightened and looked at her father. “Do you believe me now?”

  Aderey sighed. “I didn't want to believe such tales. But things rarely work out as I'd like.”

  Welcome to my life, Stonewall thought.

  Mage Halcyon looked at Aderey again. “Is there anyone else who needs healing?”

  The Sufani leader's eyes darted to his daughter. She sighed, then tugged up her sleeve to reveal a deep cut on her bicep about as long as Stonewall's index finger. Without proper care, it would fester – or worse.

  Halcyon studied the cut, then met Leal's eyes. “This is fresh.”

  Leal jerked her chin towards Stonewall. “Aye. Courtesy of your sentinel captor.”

  “Who acted in self-defense,” he replied sharply, though he frowned. “Wait...when did I fight you? Weren't you too busy holding a blade to Mage Halcyon's throat?”

  “I'm fast,” Leal shot back, glaring. “Perhaps I ought to give you a lesson or two in such matters.”

  Stonewall opened his mouth to reply, but halted as Halcyon placed the fingertips of her right hand on either side of Leal's wound. “Hold still, please. It might hurt a little – wounds made by hematite blades are trickier to heal.”

  Leal tensed, but said nothing. Halcyon closed her eyes and seemed to...disappear. Not physically; she still stood within arm's reach, but to Stonewall she suddenly seemed very far from this place, these people, and himself. Her expression relaxed as if slack with sleep, and her breath slowed to almost nothing at all.

  But her face had gone pale again, and she trembled where she stood.

  Between her palms, the slashed skin smoothed over, first with a scab, then with a shiny, pink scar. Leal made a sound of disbelief, but Stonewall remained silent.

  He knew what the Circle preached, but could magic really be evil, when it could do so much good? On the heels of this question was anger, irrational though it may have been. Did the Sufani scout truly understand the cost of magic?

  Be grat
eful, he thought, glaring at Leal. She ignored him.

  When Halcyon opened her eyes again, Leal flexed her newly-healed bicep in the growing light. She met the mage's eyes and gave a quick bow before turning aside to speak to Aderey in hushed, urgent Sufani.

  As they spoke, Stonewall caught the mage's attention. “You look exhausted. Are you all right?”

  She rubbed her arms as if she were cold. “I'll survive.”

  On some foolish whim, Stonewall placed his gloved hand on her elbow. “Will you?”

  Her dark eyes met his and he could read irritation within them. “I must help them if I can. This is no different than any healing mission. Surely you can see that.”

  He pitched his voice low to ensure only she could hear his words. “Perhaps. But I don't trust these people. Have you forgotten the dagger to your throat?”

  She flinched but kept her reply cool. “If they wanted to kill us, they would have done it already.”

  “We may not be bound, but don't be fooled. Until this camp is behind us, we're their prisoners.”

  She glanced at Aderey. “I don't think so...”

  Stonewall shook his head. “They're dangerous.”

  “I promised to help them. I made an oath.”

  It was a blow meant to land, and land it did. Still, he tried to make her understand how serious this was. “If they turn on us, if I fall, there will be no blade to take my place.”

  Halcyon regarded him for what felt like a long moment, so long that his stomach did that strange, flipping dance again. Of course it did; he was a fool to say such a thing. He didn't even have his weapons.

  “Stonewall, you're more than your weapons,” she said at last. “Just like I'm more than my magic.”

  “I know. But my weapons...help. Generally.”

  She studied him again. “Very well. There may be some danger for us here. But even so, they needed my help. Ytel would have died without magical intervention. Don't you understand that?”