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

by Lauren L. Garcia

  Honor. Service. Sacrifice. Tor help me. Stonewall sighed. “Aye. I just...don't like it.”

  Strangely, she only smiled, though Aderey got her attention, preventing her from replying to the sentinel. “It seems you have proven yourself to my people,” he said airily. “No simple task, I assure you.”

  “You see?” Halcyon replied, still smiling. “I'm glad to help – no need to steal my blood or anything.”

  Stonewall winced, but Aderey laughed aloud. “I suppose not.” He gestured to another of his scouts. “There are a few more injuries that need tending, but nothing serious. Besides, I imagine you're hungry?”

  Stonewall's stomach growled at the barest hint of food, but thankfully, no one seemed to notice. Unless, of course, the smile that Halcyon was trying to hide was at his expense. But she only addressed the Sufani leader. “Some food would be most welcome, thank you.”

  “As would some rest,” Stonewall added, for she looked so pale and wan. He could not help but add, “It was a very long night.”

  SEVEN

  Thanks to the hematite burning in his blood, Stonewall had a voracious appetite. Happily, the Sufani's one redeeming quality was that their reluctance to share their faces did not extend to the sharing of food. Breakfast was plentiful: hunks of cheese, cornmeal bread and some delicious concoction of roasted vegetables and mushrooms. Even as he finished a second helping, he debated a third.

  As he ate, he tried to casually keep an eye on the Sufani. None sat at the campfire with him and Mage Halcyon, though quite a few lingered nearby, eating, tending weapons, and occasionally casting glances toward the outsiders. Despite Aderey's word that they would not be harmed, Stonewall had not forgotten the knife to the mage's throat, nor how the gypsies had slung him about like a sack of potatoes; his wrists still chafed from being bound all night. The lack of steel within his reach did not help his mood any more than the presence of the unbound mage beside him.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Mage Halcyon swirled her bread through the vegetable broth. Some food had done her good; her eyes were clear and her pallor was healthier. Like him, she studied the surrounding Sufani, but there was no tension in her stance and her gaze was curious rather than wary.

  A few screeching, musical notes sounded nearby and her head swiveled to a lanky Sufani who leaned against a nearby caravan, tuning a viol. When he caught the first strands of song, Stonewall winced, for the accompanying squeal cut right through his head. He shot a glance at the mage, to see if she found the sound as awful as he did, but she paid him no mind and spoke instead to the Sufani.

  “Rosin,” she said. The nomad looked up, and the mage indicated the leather case that sat open on the ground. “Do you have any rosin for the bow? It sounds like you need it.”

  The Sufani glanced around, then slowly shook her head. At least, Stonewall thought she was a she, but he could not be certain; like the others, she wore layers of linen and silk, dyed all manner of bright colors, that hid her form. There was something vaguely familiar about her, though...

  Halcyon set her plate down and turned to the gypsy, though she did not get to her feet. “You don't have any in your case?”

  The girl studied the instrument in her hand, then approached the mage, pausing an arm's length away. She cast yet another, wary look around, then spoke in hushed, accented Aredian. “I don't know. Maybe. This thing was a gift from my father, but I'm still learning how to play.”

  Her voice confirmed her gender and gave a clue about her age. She struck Stonewall as a young teenager.

  The mage smiled at her, but her gaze was drawn to the polished woodgrain of the viol. “Playing well takes a great deal of practice.”

  The nomad idly plucked a few strings, rocking on the balls of her feet. “Do you play?” she asked at last, green eyes locking on the mage.

  Halcyon's face fell. “I used to.”

  Stonewall remembered her viol, as he'd stowed it in the mage-carriage. At the very least, it was lost for good. Mage Halcyon had not had many belongings to begin with; now she had nothing but the clothes on her back. Too well could Stonewall sympathize. He opened his mouth, but he didn't know what to say, or even if he should. Instead, he polished off the last of his cheese.

  The Sufani girl sighed heavily. “I wish I could play even one song. But all I can do is make that screeching noise. Leal says it sounds like I'm murdering a cat.” She shot a surreptitious glance over her shoulder, in the direction of Aderey's caravan. “Da says I'm not supposed to play it in earshot anymore.”

  So this is Aderey's other daughter, Stonewall realized. The child had been lurking near the Sufani leader's caravan when Halcyon had gone inside to heal her mother.

  “You'll get better,” the mage replied. “Start with putting some rosin on that bow. Then practice until it feels like your fingers will fall off.”

  To Stonewall's surprise, the Sufani girl thrust the instrument at the mage. “Show me something. I'm tired of making dying-cat sounds.”

  Halcyon hesitated, but accepted the viol and bow. “Very well. Bring me the case, please.”

  As the Sufani girl went to fetch it, Stonewall leaned over to the mage. “What's rosin?”

  “Essentially, it's tree-sap,” she replied, fiddling with one of the knobs on the viol's neck. “It's used to lubricate the bow strings.”

  “That will stop the dying-cat sounds?”

  She shot him a wry look. “In theory.”

  The teenager returned with the case, and after a little rummaging, Halcyon found the rosin and tended to the bow, then spent a few moments adjusting her posture and her hold upon the instrument while the Sufani girl took seat. The mage flicked her fingers along the viol strings to assess the tuning before she angled the bow and let it skim across those same strings. The notes fell raindrop-quick, clear and bright, and Stonewall's breath caught as the music washed across him.

  Halcyon played for perhaps a minute, then glanced at the Sufani girl, who gaped at her. “Those scales sound just fine,” the mage said. “It's a good instrument; it just needed a little care. Would you like me to show you an easy song?”

  But the Sufani girl only crouched beside the mage, tucking her chin in her hand. “No, just play some more.”

  “Don't you want to learn?”

  The girl shook her head. “I want to listen.”

  Halcyon studied the viol before she nodded slowly and met the Sufani girl's eyes, this time with a too-wide smile. “Any requests?”

  “Do you know Amaranthea’s Lament? It's my mama's favorite.”

  It was perhaps a moment too long before the dark-haired woman replied. “Aye. It was one of my father's favorites too.”

  Her eyes fell back on the instrument's neck, to the knobs that she'd twisted to adjust the pitch. After another few moments she shifted her grip on the bow one more time and began to play beneath the growing dawn.

  When the first few notes sounded, the world around Stonewall seemed to hold its breath. Some hidden part of him uncoiled as if from sleep to emerge, blinking, into the light of day. The song began simply; a lilting melody, frothy as a lapping wave. After a few moments the wave gathered momentum, swelling, climbing until the song almost paused, teetering between mourning and celebration. Just as Stonewall thought it was over, the melody shifted quickly, the notes rippling like wind on water.

  The music sent a chill through Stonewall's blood and kicked his heart into a stumbling canter because in that moment, nothing in his life had ever been quite as vivid. Despite a few wrong notes and slurred chords – perhaps because Halcyon had not played in a while – the feeling clung to his very bones.

  Only after the song had finished and he heard others clapping did he realize he'd frozen in his seat with his spoon halfway to his mouth. He quickly glanced down and continued eating, praying that no one else had noticed his less-than-professional lapse in attention.

  Thank Tor, no one paid him any mind. Leal, Aderey, and several other Sufani had gathered as the mage had pl
ayed, and for a few moments had set their fear of outsiders aside in order to listen. Aderey's daughter clapped louder than the others, beaming. “How long did it take you to learn?”

  “Many years and quite a few sore fingers.” Halcyon set the viol and bow back in their case. “But anyone can learn. It just takes time and patience.”

  The girl sighed with enough force to blow up her veil. “I was afraid you'd say that.”

  ***

  Next morning...

  “What in Nox's blazing void are you doing? Those are sentinel daggers, not carving knives!”

  Kali opened her eyes to see Stonewall standing beside their campfire, glaring at the Sufani fellow who'd deposited his belongings so haphazardly. In response, the nomad only made a rude gesture and turned back toward the main camp, several yards away from where Kali and Stonewall had been allowed to sleep last night.

  Yawning, Kali sat up from her bedroll and glanced around. “Oh, they brought the horse back too,” she said, pleased at the sight of the dapple-gray mare, fully saddled and bridled, lipping the sparse grass. “That was kind of them.”

  Stonewall scowled as he bent to gather his gear. “Have you rested enough to move out?”

  She did not bother to hide another yawn before she began to untangle herself from the bedroll. Her knee didn't ache any more, which was a mercy. “I'm fit to travel.”

  “Good,” he said, strapping on his belt. “Then we can leave, and not a moment too soon.”

  As the sentinel took the mare's reins and began inspecting her, Aderey approached, carrying a cloth bundle. “Good morning, young sers. I trust you are both fully recovered from the terrible ordeal of being our prisoners?”

  This was said in jest, but his green eyes fell on Kali as he spoke, and she thought she detected notes of genuine concern. Before Stonewall could make a snide comment, Kali replied in her most polite voice. “Yes, we have. Thank you for sharing your home with us.”

  Stonewall frowned, but kept silent. Another mercy, for it had been difficult enough to convince him to stay the night. Yes, they had to reach Whitewater City, but sweet stars...it was not a race! And she'd never slept beneath the open sky before.

  Aderey held out the cloth bundle. “Apologies again for the manner in which you were brought to us, but I thank you – from the bottom of my withered old heart – for...well, a great many things.”

  “Forgiven, and you're welcome,” Kali said. “What good is magic if it can't help anyone?” Within the bundle was a vibrant blue tunic, woolen socks and breeches, a pair of scuffed boots, and an indigo cloak, all significantly warmer then what she currently wore. Fine clothing. Expensive clothing, surely, given the quality of the dye.

  She glanced at Aderey. “Thank you...but are you certain you wish to give these away? Surely your people could use them.”

  “Your tunic is too thin for this time of year, especially if you are to be camping in the open. You remember the directions we discussed?”

  Kali nodded at Stonewall. “After you spoke with us, he spent all of last night pouring over his map, so–”

  “It wasn't all night,” Stonewall groused. “Just an hour or so.”

  Stars, it's almost too easy. Kali bit back a grin. “We should be able to find our way from here.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Eyes crinkling beneath his hood, Aderey glanced at Stonewall as the sentinel peered into the saddlebags. “You will also find that your provisions have been restocked.”

  Stonewall fastened the clasp of the bag and shot the Sufani a wary look. “Why have you done this for us?”

  Aderey shrugged and moved to turn away. “If you must ask me such a question, no answer I can provide will satisfy you.” He took a few steps, then looked back, glancing between Kali and Stonewall. “Safe travels to you both.”

  With that, he merged back into the main camp, leaving the mage and the sentinel alone. Kali exchanged a glance with Stonewall, who shrugged and patted the horse's neck.

  “At least she's in good shape,” he said as he ran his gloved hand across the mare's coat. “Looks like they rubbed her down and cleaned her hooves. And he was right about the supplies.”

  Kali nodded and lifted the clothes in her arms. “I'm going to change behind that caravan. Then we can head out.”

  He hesitated. Then, “You should stay within my line of sight.”

  She could not help but roll her eyes. “You can't possibly think I'm going to let you watch me change. Pervert.”

  A bright flush crept up his neck, but his voice was firm. “Don't flatter yourself. It's protocol– ”

  “Do you still think I'm going to abandon you?” she broke in, arching her brow.

  The sentinel regarded her a moment before shaking his head. “No. But it's a risk I shouldn't take.”

  “There is no risk with me, Stonewall.”

  His voice took on a desperate edge. “There is every risk with you. And...” He faltered, then added softly, “There is nothing left but the oath I took.”

  Though her conviction had faltered at the sight of a crack in his armor, she kept her voice firm. “I understand, but I won't argue this again. I'll let you bind my wrists the moment I'm dressed, but in the meantime, let me keep some semblance of dignity. I'll be right back. In the meantime, perhaps you should consider how it feels to be treated like a prisoner when you've done nothing wrong.”

  She was not above feeling satisfaction when he flushed again, though his reply was a curt, “Be quick.”

  Once safely out of his sight, Kali spent a few chilly minutes hopping into the breeches, socks and boots, and sliding the heavier tunic over the one she already wore. The cloak was the finest of the items; wool on the outside, lined with gray silk, and cleverly dyed so that the indigo was darkest at the base and sleeves, with the color fading into a pale blue at the hood. Mages had few possessions they could call their own; items they did not fashion, with or without magic, were considered property of the bastion where they lived. In all of Kali's twenty-four summers, she'd had little more than a handful of items she'd ever called “hers,” including the viol.

  Gone. Her hands stilled as she laced up the left boot, and her heart fell to her stomach. Jonas' old viol was gone now, most likely smashed to splinters back at the carriage. So much had happened since then, she'd hardly had a moment to think of it until yesterday when she'd played the Sufani girl's viol.

  It doesn't matter, she told herself, jerking the boot-laces tighter. It was just an instrument, one she hardly played anymore. Besides, having the viol back would never bring him back.

  When she returned, Stonewall was examining one of his daggers. He ran his thumbs parallel to the edge of the blade before he sheathed it in one of the small scabbards at his hips, where the other dagger was already in place.

  Only his sword remained, resting against the caravan's side.

  Kali cleared her throat and he turned. “Much more practical,” she said as she adjusted the cloak. “I feel warmer already.”

  He nodded, then withdrew the hematite binders fixed to his belt. At least he was quick about it. Soon her wrists were heavy with hematite, and the world around her grew a little dimmer. Again. Kali sighed.

  He nodded in the direction of the camp's edge, to the stretch of road that she could see in the distance. “We should get going.”

  “Ready when you are.”

  He bent to retrieve his sword. When he touched the hilt, Kali couldn't help the way her body tensed, nor how her gaze fixed upon the length of steel, embedded with chips of hematite that caught the light of the morning sun. The sentinel's eyes flickered to her; he slid the weapon into the scabbard at his back without examining it as he'd done with his daggers.

  Without another word, he gathered the horse's reins and the chain between her cuffs, and they made their way around the Sufani camp. None of the nomads spoke to them, or even looked their way, but the back of Kali's neck prickled as though they were being watched. Within a few minutes, the broad grasslands of Si
lverwood stretched in every direction, as far as she could see. All over again, she was overwhelmed by the impossibility of what she'd done to get them here. They were so far from where they'd started and had such a long way to go.

  “Mage Halcyon.” Stonewall's voice lifted her from her thoughts and made her halt; turning, she realized he and the horse had stopped a few paces back, though thankfully he'd not jerked the chain to get her attention. He indicated the mare. “You should ride, lest you strain yourself again.”

  “I'd rather walk for a little while. My knee's all right.” It was her ass that was aching and she had little desire to get back in the saddle. There had to be one aspect of her life within her control.

  But he shook his head and held her gaze with his own. He'd not yet replaced his helmet, and the sunlight tinted his eyes a rich amber. “I wasn't speaking of your knee.”

  “Then what are you speaking of?”

  Stonewall seemed at a loss for a moment, then he took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “It's something I noticed right after you...used your magic to bring us here. You looked...”

  His ears reddened and she stared at him, disbelieving. He seemed...embarrassed, and at something of a loss. Some of her irritation fled. Kali took a few steps so that she was before him. “How did I look, Stonewall?”

  For a moment he blinked at her, before speaking in a rush. “Exhausted. As if your very life had drained away.” He studied her, his eyes skimming her face carefully. “Now you seem…better, but you shouldn't push yourself if you're not completely rested.”

  Kali's stomach had begun to twist into tight knots after hearing his account, so she took a deep breath to calm herself. “Magic shouldn't change anything about my appearance.”

  “I know what I saw.”

  The truth was that she did still feel a little weak, but it was a deeper weariness, something that she likened to the overuse of a muscle. But magic draining her in such a way, enough so that she looked as tired as she felt… Well, that was and unsettling notion, to say the least.