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

by Lauren L. Garcia

“The lock was hematite, but the hinges weren't.” The wall was cool and damp beneath Eris' touch; she could feel the faintest thrum of the waterfall through the stone.

  “Aye. I think it's just a remnant from long ago, when the bastion was built. The hemies must have forgotten it even exists by now.”

  Eris frowned. “We can’t count on that.”

  “No,” he said. “But we can hope.”

  ***

  After what felt like hours, they reached the end of the tunnel. Eris knew it was so because Gid smacked into the waiting iron gate with a reverberating clang.

  Both mages froze, but heard no startled shouts or telltale boot steps that would mean they'd been discovered. It was too dark to make out Gid's exact expression, but traces of moonlight fell on his curving cheek as he mouthed an apology and bent to run his fingers along the metal gate.

  She risked a whisper. “Can you manage?”

  “Sodding thing's warped,” he whispered back. “I'm not sure we can get through without destroying it completely.”

  “We can't leave any trace that we were here.”

  He nodded. “Right. I'll see what I can do...”

  He trailed off, intent on his task, illuminated by a faint glow as he stood before the hinges of the iron gate that rested before them. Most mages could manipulate fire particles easily enough, but none that Eris had ever met could do the same to metal in quite the same way as her husband. She'd even seen him shape sand into glass. Such talents were, she supposed, the reason he'd been allowed out of the bastion on missions; though he couldn't heal people so well, he was a marvel at repairing the trappings of civilization.

  Beneath his touch, the glow strengthened. Heat flared from his hand, and she stepped back instinctively, though he would not be harmed by anything wrought by his own magic.

  “We have to use that to come back, you know,” she pointed out.

  “Aye, I'll be careful.”

  While he worked, Eris peered through the iron bars, trying to get a sense of where they were about to emerge. Beyond dark stone walls and the halo of moonlight, it was impossible to tell. Presumably, they were still in the city. Though the journey had felt longer, it had probably only taken a few minutes. She could not make out any other people and breathed a sigh of relief.

  At last he exhaled softly. “Seren's light...it's done. Mostly.”

  Eris frowned at his handiwork. The hinges were almost completely melted, and the gate itself was only open a handspan or so. “Can we get through? Can we get back through?”

  “It's the best I could do,” he said. “Let's worry about getting out right now, shall we?”

  With great care, Eris and Gideon wriggled through one at a time to step into an alley strewn with broken crates. Other than a few scuttling insects, they were alone. Together, they crept towards the alley's entrance, taking care to keep in the shadows. Torches flickered at intervals down the street, though their light did not reach the mages. When they reached the edge of the darkness, both mages held still and listened.

  A few voices drifted from farther down the street, but Eris couldn't make out what they said. When she peered around the corner, she saw that the alley opened into a smaller, cobbled lane. Farther ahead seemed to be a larger street, illuminated with more torches, with several people strolling about.

  But no one was close enough to see either mage – at least, as far as she could tell. Eris let out a sigh of relief that sent her breath spiraling into the cold night air.

  Gideon's hand closed over hers and he murmured in her ear. “Now's the time.”

  Her stomach twisted, but she nodded. Gid released her hand and stepped back, and Eris closed her eyes. Deep breaths. Calm. Focus. She could do this. She'd nearly done it before. Flexing her fingers, Eris imagined the stiff, silkiness of glossy black feathers; the lightness of her bones and of her body. She inhaled deeply. As if in response, a breeze touched her face, bringing the scent of distant fires and the ubiquitous damp from the White River. There was a sharper scent, too, that heralded the change of seasons. Was it her imagination, or was it colder outside the bastion?

  Focus. She took another deep breath and clenched her fists in an effort to will her hands to change. She layered her desire over the particles of her body and concentrated... Sweat pricked along her forehead and at the small of her back. Her muscles ached; her entire body shuddered with the effort of her transformation.

  Footsteps broke her out of her trance and made her eyes snap open. Gid stood, not at her side, but a pace away, by the alley's entrance, keeping watch while she worked. But she'd failed. Again.

  Breathing heavily, Eris still managed a scowl. “Shit.”

  She'd tried to be quiet, but Gideon glanced over his shoulder and took in her still-human shape. Disappointment flashed across his face before he dismissed the emotion. That, more than anything else, stung.

  Regardless of his feelings, he gave her a warm smile. “It's–”

  “Don't,” she said, coming to stand beside him. “Just...don't.”

  He peered around the wall again. “There's no one around. I'm sure we can find the pub on our own. How difficult can it be?”

  Chagrin sent heat to her face. This wouldn't be an issue if she had managed to change. “But we don't know exactly where we're going. Should we just hope to just blunder into it?”

  “Unless you want to ask for directions.”

  She glared at him. “Aye, perhaps we can find a sentinel escort as well.”

  In his way, Gid ignored her jab, chuckled and kissed her cheek. He pulled up the hood sewn into his cloak so that only the pale flash of his smile was visible from the shadows. “Come on,” he said as he took her hand. “Let's go for a stroll.”

  ***

  Outside the bastion walls, mages looked no different than anyone else. This part of the city was fairly active in the evening; quite a few people – singles, couples and groups – walked the cobbled streets. Shops and pubs had thrown their doors open, spilling light, music, and the scents of cooking food into the street. Despite her nerves, Eris could not stop herself from peering into each door.

  Beside her, one of her hands resting in the crook of his arm, Gideon paused to inhale deeply. “Whatever that is smells wonderful.”

  For what must have been the hundredth time since leaving the tunnel, she adjusted the scarf she'd woven about her head. “Focus, Gid.”

  “Right.” He glanced around, then nodded to another couple walking toward them, who'd emerged from a nearby pub. “Let's ask them.”

  “I thought you were joking about asking for directions.”

  He flashed her a smile. “I was, but now I think it's a rather sound idea. Besides,” he tugged the sleeves of his coat past his wrists, “it's not like we're advertising who – or what – we are.”

  She glanced around the street, searching for sentinels. There were none, but she caught a gleam of silver at the other end of the street. City guards, possibly, or someone from the Queen's army. Either way, she didn't like it. “It's risky.”

  “Riskier than wandering through the city with only a vague idea of where we're going?”

  He had a point. The longer they were away from the bastion, the greater their chances were of being caught. But before she could agree, Gid quickened his steps and urged her over the cobblestones. “Excuse me, sers.”

  The couple turned. Both were many years older than Eris and Gid. The woman wore a thick cloak of crushed alabaster velvet, clasped near her neck with an intricate silver brooch. The man's heavy coat looked as if it'd been spun from silk rather than wool, with a row of gold buttons down the front.

  Gideon gave them a warm smile. “Good evening to you both. Do either of you know where to find a pub named 'The River Redcap?' My wife and I arrange to meet a friend there, but we've never been.”

  The man swept his eyes across both mages before knitting his brows. “The River Redcap? Never heard of it.”

  The woman frowned in thought. “Ah, yes. I thin
k I have. It's a quaint little pub,” she coughed into her gloved hand, “near the city gates.”

  The man glanced at her, one brow lifted. “Been slumming with the dregs much, have you?”

  Her laughter was bright. “Mara's mercy, no! I overheard my little seamstress discussing it with one of the kitchen maids. Apparently it's a common crawl for fifth tiers.” She looked back at Eris and Gideon, a thin smile pulling her mouth. “I'm sure you'll both feel quite at home.”

  This was said with a meaningful look at Eris' scarf, which Adrie had knitted for her a few winters ago. It was warm and hid most of her face, but it was also clearly hand made. Both her and Gid's cloaks were modest and slightly ill-fitting. Eris' stomach churned as she glanced at the other people on the street; all were attired in similarly fine clothes as the man and woman before her.

  Gid and I must stand out like antlers on a cat, she thought, clutching her cloak sleeves. This was a bad idea.

  As if heedless of this, Gideon's tone was easy. “Aye, I'm sure we will...if we can find it.”

  The woman glanced at her male companion, whose gaze had flickered to somewhere behind the mages. Something cold and hard began to form in the pit of Eris' stomach, and she resisted the urge to look over her shoulder.

  “I think it's close to the city gates,” the woman said. “Try the Merchant's District, between the bridge and the river wall.”

  “Thank you, sers,” Gideon said, bowing once. “The One keep you.”

  Neither man nor woman replied, only nodded and hurried past the mages. As they passed, Eris glanced over her shoulder to watch them make their way down the street, toward...

  Ice swept through her veins. Was that a pair of armored figures?

  “Come on.” Gid squeezed her hand, drawing her attention. “If we don't get lost again, we won't even be late.”

  “City guards,” Eris whispered. “Behind us.”

  “Then let's not linger.”

  Heart beating faster, Eris nodded and they started off, quickly, but not too much so, lest they draw unwanted attention. Half a dozen times, Eris resisted the urge to look back, but each footfall on the stones behind them made her pulse leap. The crowd dispersed a little as they made their way through the streets, until there was only a handful of others within shouting distance.

  Then...

  “You there,” came a brisk voice from behind. “Stop, by order of the city guard!”

  Eris flinched. “Sod it all...”

  “Just keep going,” Gid murmured. “Pretend you don't hear. Pretend it's not us they're after.”

  Before she could tell him what an absolutely stupid idea that was, something strong grabbed her shoulder and whirled her around. A man easily as broad as she was tall glared at her through the iron mask of his helmet. Two other city guards, another man and a woman, stood beside him, and Eris caught at least one more approaching out of the corner of her eye.

  The first guard eyed the mages up and down. “What are you dregs doing here?”

  “Nothing,” Eris replied, jerking her shoulder out of his grip.

  Gid sidled between her and the guard. “My wife and I are just out for a stroll,” he said sharply. “We've done nothing wrong.”

  “That gentleman was right; neither of you belong here.” The female guard frowned and tried to peer beneath Eris' scarf. “Let's see your marks.”

  The first guard reached for Eris's wrist while his fellows closed in. Her heart thrummed behind the cage of her ribs, urging her to fly. She tried to wrench her wrist from the guard's grasp, but he had a grip like a vise. Her marks were plain in the flickering torchlight: an elaborate, eight pointed star, and twin crescent moons. Despite her fear, Eris could not help but smirk at how the color drained from what she could see of her captor's face.

  “Mage,” the guard hissed dropping her hand as if it burned. The others took a collective step back, eyes round beneath their helmets.

  “I ain't getting paid enough to deal with no sodding moon-bloods,” one of them growled. “Send word to the garrison.”

  “Not tonight.” Gideon's voice was feral.

  As he spoke, the guard who had gripped Eris' wrist let out a swift curse. His iron helmet, which concealed the topmost portion of his face, began to glow yellow, then a deep orange. The stench of burning flesh overtook the crisp night air and the guard shrieked in pain as he yanked his helmet off and tossed it into the street. Beneath it, his face was seared an angry red.

  Though they also lived in the shadow of the bastion, city guards were not sentinels. Taking in their comrade's state, the others scrambled away from the mages, bleating to their gods for help and protection. Their cowardice gave the mages precious time.

  Gid's face was slack in his concentration, so Eris grabbed his arm and pulled him along, and they darted together through the city streets.

  NINETEEN

  “You can do this.” Kali leaned over the mare's neck as they raced across the open meadow. But the horse's pace was flagging and it would not be long before the Canderi caught up. Their shrill cries grew louder with each of Kali's ragged breaths.

  Though Stonewall did not hold onto her to keep his seat, his presence grounded her while she focused on the roar of magic within her body. I can do this.

  Kali took a deep breath and focused everything she had on a single thought: Away.

  Nothing happened.

  Fear hammered her heart, matching the beat of the mare's hooves. Kali frantically reached for her magic with mental fingers, trying to recreate her and Stone's mad flight...

  But even with her new found strength, she could not replicate whatever it was she'd done before. The demon-Canderi were closing in. We're going to die.

  Kali gritted her teeth. No! They would not die, not now. Time for a new plan. Blinking through the biting wind of the horse's passage, she peered ahead, trying to get a better look at the river and the curving, wooden bridge that spanned it.

  Too bad the demon-people hadn't attacked when it was daylight, or at least when one moon was completely full. All she could make out was that the bridge was ragged and the river was wide, with banks of gravel and sand; beyond the bridge was forest. It was impossible to gauge exactly how deep the river was, but turgid waters rose high enough to brush the underside of the bridge. Perhaps it was overflowing from the recent rainfall.

  So the river flowed quickly and the bridge had probably seen better days. An idea struck her, but it was wild – no, impossible. But maybe...

  Though the mare had not panicked once, she was blowing hard, straining with the effort of carrying two riders at such a breakneck pace. “Come on, girl,” Kali said as she leaned forward. “Just a little farther. You can do this.”

  Another feral scream tore through the air and Stonewall cursed, but all Kali cared about was the bridge. The raiders drew closer and closer, but the bulk of Kali's focus turned inward again, working to quell her fear and reach that calm place where she could touch the bridge's particles.

  If she concentrated she could smell the river, cold and bright. Beneath that was her awareness of the bridge, its wood long laid bare to the elements and its particles fighting merely to sustain itself. Even from this distance and with her concentration torn in two, Kali could sense how little effort it would take to reduce that weathered wood to splinters.

  Hopefully the Canderi didn't know how to swim, either.

  Kali shoved all doubt to the back of her mind. Nothing mattered but magic.

  This will work. This must work.

  Magic swelled in each corner of her body, stronger than she'd ever experienced. It was dizzying; it was standing at the top of the highest mountain; it was moonlight in her blood. Each particle of the bridge was clear and within her reach. Kali pushed her focus outward and wrapped her will around them.

  Let go.

  The moment their horse's hooves clattered against the weary, rain-soaked wood, she cast those particles away, released the magic and her desire, and became a bystander once
more. As the horse thundered across the bridge, the bridge's particles began to disintegrate; she could sense them splintering as surely as she could feel Stonewall behind her.

  Her stern companion was more than a little alarmed. “What in the blazing void are you doing?”

  She could not answer. She could do nothing but savor the rush of energy and raw power as this moment of magic burned itself into nothing.

  By now the Canderi were closer, probably no more than a horse's length behind. The bridge trembled with their added weight and their inhuman shrieks tore the air apart. Time slowed. The opposite shore was just paces away, practically close enough to touch. But Kali was empty now: of terror, of doubt, of what if. There was only trust in her magic.

  She jolted out of her strange calm when the poor mare squealed in surprise and fright. Kali's eyes snapped open – when had they closed? – only to see that the bridge's end, just a breath away moments ago, had crumbled into nothing.

  The magic had worked too well. Shit.

  Thankfully, it was not much of a drop, given how swollen the river was, and the current was not as strong near the shore as it was at the center of the river. The mare plunged into the chilly water but was able to start swimming immediately. The initial shock of cold stole Kali's breath but she urged the horse forward, toward the rocky bank, until she felt the mare's hooves touch something solid.

  We've made it to shore, Kali thought, nearly weeping with relief. Thank the stars!

  Another inhuman shriek pieced the air and now Stonewall did grab her waist. The shriek made Kali twist to look past the sentinel and watch the fruits of her labor. The river surged over the two pale-haired forms who struggled at its center, arms waving frantically above the churning waters, until the current sucked them down, pulled them into nothing, as if they'd never been.

  Stonewall made a noise of surprise, but before Kali could reply, their own mount, who still fought her way through the rushing water, stumbled, and the sentinel slipped off of her back and into the torrent.

  Kali acted without thinking. Her hand shot out, grabbed Stone's wrist, and held tight even as her other hand clung to the mare's sodden mane while the horse struggled through the water.