by Kyra Halland
“Indeed we do.” Coltor shook his head. “Bad business, that massacre at Thornwood. Hope it doesn’t spread, and that other towns don’t take it on themselves to start a war with the A’ayimat.”
“There might be more to it than that.”
Coltor raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”
“Are you familiar with the Hidden Council?” Silas asked.
“I am. In fact, before I turned to ranching and decided to live as a Plain, I was allied with them. That was more than fifteen years ago, though.”
Silas wasn’t at all surprised to learn of Coltor’s Hidden Council affiliation. “I’m allied with them too. Or, I was. Things changed. A few years ago, a woman named Elspetya Lorentius and her followers infiltrated the Council and took over it.”
“I’ve heard of her,” Coltor said. “She was the scandal of polite society for years.”
“She still is, apparently. Anyhow, the group’s aim is to take control of the Wildings, supposedly to keep foreigners from getting a foothold here and killing all the mages like she claims they did in their own lands. But they also want control of the ranching and mining businesses and the other resources out here. We believe their goal is to set up their own country to rival Granadaia.”
Coltor frowned beneath his thick mustache. “That sounds serious. They wouldn’t just rival Granadaia; sooner or later, they’d be able to eat the whole damn place for lunch.”
“And she doesn’t like Plains, for all that she’s half-Plain herself,” Lainie added. “She thinks their rightful place in the world is to be slaves to the mages. Says they’re better off that way.”
With help from Lainie to fill in the details he couldn’t quite remember, Silas related what she had told him about the different Hidden Council plots they had come across, Carden’s mining enterprise, the attempt to assassinate hunters allied with the original Council, their role in encouraging trouble between the A’ayimat clans in the Blueclouds, and their attempt to take control of the herd. “And they’re the ones responsible for the condition I was in when I arrived here. They captured me and Elspetya Lorentius blocked my mind and power behind a shield of her own power.”
“To get you out of the way, since they didn’t succeed in assassinating you?” Coltor asked.
“Partly. But also, it happens that Madam Lorentius is Lainie’s grandmother.”
“Holy hells,” Coltor said.
“Brin,” his wife chided him. “Watch your language at the dinner table.”
“Yes, dear,” he said. “So, let me guess, they took you to reel her in – they knew she’d come for you.”
“Yep,” Silas said. “They figured they could use me to force her to help them. Fortunately,” he couldn’t help directing a proud grin Lainie’s way, “they underestimated her.”
He finished up his account with the raid Lainie had set up on the Hidden Council headquarters to cover her rescue of him. “The more we think about it, though,” he said, “the more we think Elspetya Lorentius and her people might have gotten away.”
“How do you figure?” Coltor asked.
“Just a gut feeling,” Lainie said. “They sent an awful lot of men after us; I wouldn’t think they could spare so many if they really meant to round up all the Hidden Council members who were there at the headquarters. They might have just used the raid to flush me and Silas out. Or, my grandmother has a contact on the Mage Council who might have warned them about the raid.”
“Merlovan Astentias,” Silas said.
Coltor let out a low whistle. “I remember he was part of the scandal around Madam Lorentius. So he’s in this with her. That’s a mighty high-powered contact for her to have.”
“Yeah,” Lainie said. “I reckon he might have worked things to let Elspetya and the others escape.”
“I see your reasoning, but it isn’t much to go on,” Coltor said.
“I know,” Lainie said. “But something tells me I’m right. She’s crafty, and she’s bound and determined to get what she wants. She’s killed people before, and she’ll kill more if that’s what it takes. This attack on Thornwood feels like a step up from the kind of trouble she stirred up before. Like she’s making her big move now. And it doesn’t make any sense, otherwise. Mr. Nikalsdon’s right about those Thornwood folks. I can’t see them doing anything to break the Compact, especially not something bad enough to make the A’ayimat that angry. Most of the A’ayimat I’ve known just want to be left alone unless they have no choice.”
“So,” Silas said, “it looks like we might be going up against a large gang of powerful mages. And that’s where the other problem comes in. I can’t use my power.” The admission still wrenched at his insides.
Coltor’s eyes widened and he sat back hard in his chair. “Holy hells. You can’t – That Lorentius woman did this to you?”
Silas nodded. “The damage was worse than Lainie thought at first. She’s working on a fix, but in the meantime, I’m as good as Stripped. Lainie beat nine Mage Council enforcers single-handedly in Sandostra, but this is different. She can’t fight this on her own.”
“Madam Lorentius could have a lot more mages than that with her,” Lainie said. “There were a couple dozen just at their headquarters the day I found Silas there. And they know what I can do. Those enforcers didn’t. They’ll be ready for me.”
“We’re going to need help.” Silas looked Coltor square in the eye. The request he was about to make would not be welcome, but he had to make it anyway. “Can we count on you?”
Coltor drained his wineglass, then set it down firmly. “I haven’t worked magic in fifteen years. I left all that behind a long time ago. I don’t like the way our people treat Plains. Even considering the Hidden Council – or what it used to be – and the other good, decent mages, I’m ashamed of having magical blood. And I’m not perfect; I did things, too, that were cruel and shameful. So I turned my back on magic. I have no regrets, and no intentions to go back to it.”
“Not even when you could do some real good?” Silas asked, challenging him.
“I’ve worked hard to get where I am now, Vendine. I built this ranch and made my money honestly, without the use of magic. I won’t give anyone cause to say otherwise.”
“If Elspetya Lorentius has her way, it won’t matter,” Silas said. “If she comes to power here, and believes you’re Plain, she’ll take your ranch and do what she pleases with it and your people. If she finds out you’re a mage, she’ll force you to join her or be killed or Stripped – same thing she did to me. And what do you think will happen to your family – your half-A’ayimat daughter, your Plain wife and half-Plain child? You can’t sit back and watch this and say it has nothing to do with you. You have as much to lose as anyone, or more, and you’re one of the few people in the Wildings capable of fighting her. It’s time for those of us who disagree with the way mages have always treated Plains to stop hiding and stand and fight.”
Coltor poured more wine, then stared silently into his glass. Mrs. Coltor watched him, biting her lip and fiddling with her own wineglass. Silas couldn’t blame her for being anxious. Knowing her husband was a mage was one thing, but actually seeing him use magic, something she would have been taught to fear and hate, would be doubly hard. Not to mention that if the Plain folk of the valley found out Brin Coltor was a mage, his name and money and status might not be enough to save him from being hanged. But he thought – or would like to think – that Coltor was a better man than to let concern for himself stop him from doing what was right.
“I know it’s a hard thing I’m asking of both of you,” Silas said. He met Coltor’s eyes again. “But if you won’t fight to protect what’s yours, do you really have the right to call it yours?”
Frowning, Coltor huffed out a hard breath. “I can’t go with you,” he finally said. “I have responsibilities here.”
“I won’t ask you to come with us,” Silas said. “But if this trouble really is Madam Lorentius’s doing, there’s a good chance her people wil
l come here. A place as rich as the Bentwood Valley is bound to attract her attention. If they come here, can we count on you to help fight them?”
Coltor was silent a moment. Then he sighed and set his glass down. “If my family and my property and my town are threatened, I’ll do whatever it takes to protect them. Even if it means using magic.”
“Good enough,” Silas said. It wasn’t much, but, in fairness, it was all he could ask of Coltor. Maybe, if the gods were good, he and Lainie would find a few more allies, as well. And Lainie would figure out a way for him to be able to use his power again.
* * *
THAT NIGHT IN their room, Silas said, “If you’ve thought of a fix for my problem, darlin’, now would be a good time to try it out.”
“I did think of something,” Lainie answered. Her idea of trying to teach him to draw Wildings power had led to a different, better, plan. She had been giving careful thought to this new idea for several days, and she was pretty sure it would work, but not as certain as she would like to be, considering that she was going to be tampering with his power and changing things inside him. He was right, though; there was no more time for thinking about it.
“I don’t think I can put your power back the way it was,” she went on. “It’s hard to explain, because it isn’t solid, it’s more like light or heat inside you. But it’s like a big piece that’s been torn out of some cloth. The edges are all ripped and ragged and won’t meet up neatly with the hole it came from. If it got sewn back in all the way around, the seam would be all bumpy and uneven, and it would pull the torn piece and the cloth it came from out of shape. You still might not be able to use your power, or it might make it hard to control or do things you don’t expect. Does that make any sense?”
He nodded. “What do you mean to do instead?”
“My idea is to reattach your power in a few places where I can get it and the place where it belongs to meet up without forcing them. Where its edges and the edge of the hole touch each other. That should be enough to let you reach your power, even though you might not be able to draw on very much at once.”
“It would be better than nothing, which is what I’ve got now,” he said. “So how are you going to do this?”
“I don’t want to use your power to attach them because I don’t want to do any more damage to it. And I can’t use my own power because I’ll have to keep replacing it, and anyhow, if I’ve still got the demonsalts addiction, I don’t want to give it to you. So I’m going to use Wildings earth-power.”
“I thought that drains out if it isn’t being used.”
“It does. So I’ll have to bind it inside you like I did with the earth-power I took to Granadaia with me.”
“With a binding spell sealed with earth and blood,” he said.
She nodded. “You’d still have to replenish the power from time to time, but not as often. Once it’s in you, you should be able to learn to draw it yourself, so you wouldn’t need me to do it.”
He remained silent. She waited anxiously for his response. Binding magic with blood was a serious matter, a permanent change, and she wasn’t sure he would agree to it.
“Do it,” he finally said, to her relief. “If this doesn’t warrant a blood binding, I don’t know what does.”
They collected a couple of old blankets and Silas’s hunting knife and went outside. The night was cold and clear; the stars showed sharp and bright in the sky, and Lainie and Silas’s breath made great foggy puffs in the air. They kicked away the snow to clear a space, spread out the blankets, and sat down. Lainie had Silas make a small cut on his hand and squeeze a dozen or so drops of blood onto the bare ground, then she used a little magic to keep the blood-moistened earth from freezing.
“Lay down,” she said. “This will be lot easier if you relax and hold still.”
Obediently, he lay on his back, his hands folded across his stomach, his hat pulled down over his face. Lainie left it like that. If it made him feel better to have it there, that was fine with her. She sat cross-legged next to him, placed the fingertips of her left hand on the small patch of blood on the ground, and rested her right hand on his chest. With a deep breath, she gathered her focus and reached into him.
The vibrant blue mass of his power was where she had tucked it away, deep down inside of him, to keep it hidden from mage hunters. She released it to fill the place where it belonged, the sort of well or hollow where it was generated and stored. It floated loose there like a dried bean in a pod. Carefully, she felt along the ragged edges of the well and his power, looking for places where they could meet easily without any pulling, twisting, or stretching.
When she found such a spot, she held the power and the side of the well together there, then drew warm amber earth-power into herself through her contact with the blood-sprinkled ground. She shaped the power into a long, thin strand, then, careful not to pull or stretch either Silas’s power and the side of the well, wove the thread back and forth through the place where they touched, anchoring the power loosely in place. The thread of amber magic stood out brightly against Silas’s blue power, but, being touched with his blood, it also blended in as though it was a natural part of him. Lainie’s heart beat faster; this seemed to be working even better than she had hoped it would.
Lainie found a handful of other places where the power and the sides of the well would easily meet, and used more of the amber earth-magic to connect them to each other at those points. Finally, she tested her stitches to make sure they would hold and not come unraveled, then she returned to the physical world.
She scooped soil and blood onto her right forefinger. Using magic and intent to shape the spell that would bind her handiwork, she reached beneath Silas’s shirt and smeared the mixture onto the bare skin of his chest, over his heart, sealing the earth-magic inside him.
Again, she reached into him with her mage senses. The stitches of amber power had settled into place, melding with his power and the well. Even though the earth-power, like all magic separated from the place where it originated, would eventually run out and need to be replenished, it was now part of him almost as if it was his own inborn power. This should allow him to connect with the power in the earth of the Wildings.
Lainie withdrew her mage senses from him. Weariness sank down upon her; the work had taken a lot of effort and concentration, and more than a little of her own power. “You can sit up now,” she said. “Did it work?”
He sat up cross-legged beside her and stared at his mage ring, effort lining his face as Lainie watched anxiously. After a long moment, a faint blue glow, fringed with a hint of amber, came to life around his ring.
Silas’s eyes widened and a smile teased at the corners of his mouth. “I did it!”
Lainie smiled as well, happiness and relief replacing the worry that had been eating at her. Then the glow sputtered and went out. She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry. I thought it would work better than that.”
“It’s a hell of lot more than I had before,” Silas said. “It’s different, using magic this way, and not easy. But it’s better than nothing. I just need to work at it.”
He focused on his mage ring again, his face set in concentration. Slowly, the ring began to glow again, and this time the light lasted a couple of heartbeats longer.
Silas grinned widely and pulled Lainie into a hard embrace. “See? You did it, darlin’!” he said against her hair, his voice shaky with laughter, or tears, or possibly both at the same time. “Not being able to use my power – it was like hardly even being alive. But now you’ve given it back to me.”
She let him hold her a little longer, until his rush of emotion seemed to settle down, then she gently pulled away. There was one more thing she needed to make sure of. “I want to see if you can draw Wildings power. You should be able to sense it now, I think.”
Silas set his left hand flat on the ground and closed his eyes. Again the look of intense concentration filled his face. “I feel it,” he said after a
moment. “Barely, but it’s there.”
“Now pull some in. It’s like breathing in, but power instead of air.”
His eyes remained closed, his face furrowed with effort, as his shoulders rose and his chest expanded. He opened his eyes and let out the deep breath he had taken in. “I think it worked.”
He fixed his gaze on his mage ring again. Slowly, the faint blue glow came to life around his ring, stronger now, with brighter threads of amber running through it. This time the light lasted another moment longer before it died away.
“It worked!” His face lit up with a huge smile, and he laughed. “This should be impossible, but when has that ever stopped you?”
A bittersweet feeling pierced Lainie’s heart, to see him so happy over something so simple when he was still leagues away from what he had once been. True, what he had now was better than nothing, but it was still so little. She made herself smile back. “I’m glad it worked. You keep practicing, and before long you’ll be as good as new – or even better.” She could only pray that it would be enough for what lay ahead.
Chapter 11
THE NEXT MORNING, Coltor met Silas and Lainie at the front door as they were leaving. “Thought you might need this,” he said, putting a leather wallet heavy with coin in Silas’s hand.
Silas immediately handed it back to him. “Thanks, but we’re fine.”
After the meeting yesterday, they had stocked up on supplies in town, and Lainie had also put her foot down and made Silas buy a new duster. He had hated to do it, the old duster had been with him the whole time he’d been in the Wildings, but he had to admit she had a point. His old coat was more mending than coat by now, and mottled with bloodstains that would never come out. But even after paying for the new coat and everything else, they still had plenty of money. They didn’t need more of Coltor’s charity.
