by Lizzy Ford
“I’m certain they will send help!” she said. “Or maybe they know how strong my warrior is.”
“Did he really kill two wind mages and their warriors?”
“Yes.”
For once, Vinian seemed uncertain. He shook his head then turned his attention to the mage-warriors conversing a few feet from them. All but one of the other warriors rode northwest.
“Vinian, we need one of your barriers, as discussed,” Citon called to the wind mage.
“If you will forgive me, water mage.” Vinian twisted and gripped her arm to tug her off the horse.
Sela slid down to the ground and stepped back as Vinian urged his horse forward. He disappeared behind a hill. She looked at the mage-warriors. Lord Winlin offered a smile. She eyed him, not trusting him, then gazed up at Citon expectantly.
Citon reached down and hauled her onto his horse behind him. She felt safe with him, maybe because he reminded her of Karav. She settled behind him, ignoring the side of her that knew these men were helping her so they could use her. With Tieran unwilling to take his place at her side, he left her no choice but to choose an ally from among her enemies.
They rode at a quick walk until dawn began to lighten the horizon. The wind mage returned, barreling towards them from the direction they had come. He slowed his horse as he neared, his face flushed.
“It's not who you thought,” he said to Citon when he was close enough. “Lord Winlin’s brother pursues.”
“How close?” Lord Winlin demanded.
“Close enough we dare not stop.”
“He has more than the men at the hold,” the noble said slowly. “How many were there?”
“Twenty, perhaps thirty,” Vinian responded.
“Then he likely has an ambush somewhere ahead. We are close to the keep from which we stole the water mage. It’s possible men await us.”
“If your guardian were here, we could fight them all,” Citon said to Sela.
She was quiet. She had no way of knowing where Tieran was or why he had not come earlier when he sensed her danger.
“My gold is on a small party behind and a large one forward,” Citon said. “I would rather confront what follows.”
“You believe we should turn back and take a second route,” the wind mage said, considering.
“He would not expect it.”
Sela listened.
“You realize you and I alone will have to face this small party?” Vinian asked. “I prefer to avoid both.”
“That’s your mage blood speaking,” Citon said, bemused. “What is a party of thirty men when I can kill half and you can handle the rest?”
“My power draws more attention than your sword,” the wind mage snapped. “We have no one to help us, if we cannot fight them all, or if there’s an ambush behind us as well.”
“If you free me, I will fight,” Lord Winlin said. “My brother wants my head. I defied his order with regards to the water mage.”
Sela eyed him.
“We’ll head west until certain we are no longer tracked and then east once more,” Citon said with a shake of his head. “They’ll expect us to flee towards our kingdom.”
Sela half-listened, not at all interested in where they decided to go. She was trying to sense Tieran as he did her without luck.
Citon altered their course to head east, towards the kingdom of Lord Winlin. They started forward at a quick trot. The sun perched on the horizon when they reached a small thatch of forest. Citon drew his horse to a halt. He swung his leg over the horse’ withers and landed softly on his feet before wrapping an arm around her to pull her down with him.
“Both of you, stay here,” he ordered her and his wind mage gruffly.
Sela did not know what the mage-warrior sensed, but she knew to trust him. Karav always knew when danger was close.
Vinian dismounted, and Sela joined him. He collected the reins of all the horses and draped them over brush and tree branches. Lord Winlin and his guard remained mounted.
“Do you sense anything with your wind magic?” she whispered.
“Lord Winlin’s brother has a wind mage whose sole duty is to block me,” Vinian replied. “Citon will warn me, if he needs my assistance.”
“You and he trust each other a lot,” she marveled.
Vinian glanced at her. “Of course we do.” The haughty edge in his voice irritated her. “Come.” He started in the same direction Citon had gone.
“He said to wait here,” she objected.
“Are you the mage or is Citon?” he challenged. “We do not answer to his kind.”
She stepped forward.
He led her through the forest, creeping over brush and around trees. Sela glanced at the weapons he wore, wishing she had thought to ask Citon for a dagger.
Her fear turned to anger at the idea she might die in this forest this evening, because her own mage-warrior did not want to take his place at her side after forcing her to bond with him. Why should she depend on some other mage’s warrior to fight for her at all? To rescue her from a man using spells to confuse her? Tieran could not have his duty both ways. He had taken away her freedom, yet tried to pretend he had his. If she were not free, then neither was he!
As reluctant as she was to be around him, she also understood that Tieran’s place and prophetic duty was with her, protecting her. Did the oath he took to her mean so little? Where had he gone that he could not come when his uncle’s hold was attacked, or she kidnapped?
Vinian was right. As the mage, she needed to remind her warrior of his duty to her. If she were near the lake again, or a river, she could do more than remind him. She could threaten to drown him until he complied.
Without any source of water to fuel her magic, she was helpless – and frustrated.
A branch snapped beneath her boot, and Vinian froze. She held her breath. He motioned her to the ground, and she knelt awkwardly. Vinian leaned towards her.
“There.” He pointed.
She peered in the direction he indicated. A tiny, dark campsite of less than a dozen men in red cloaks was no more than ten steps ahead of her.
“The wind claims there are twenty more in the forest,” he whispered. “And a wind mage.”
Fascinated, Sela listened for the sounds of Citon launching his attack. Could he handle a force of thirty to forty men? Vinian’s mage powers would be limited by the magic of another wind mage, which left Citon on his own to fight off the men from Lord Qinlin’s force.
The sounds of fighting began from the forest beyond the camp. The men in camp launched to their feet, and she realized the instincts of Citon and Lord Winlin were correct. There was an ambush waiting, disguised as a sleepy camp. Lord Winlin’s brother had either placed men in every direction or predicted where they would go.
Vinian ducked down as one of the men glanced in their direction. He pushed Sela behind a tree. After a moment, his grip loosened. She leaned around the trunk. The camp was vacant, the men charging through the forest towards the sounds of fighting.
“And now, for a distraction,” Vinian said. “Wait here.”
Nervous with the sounds of battle closing in, Sela watched him cross the camp and kneel over the logs at its center. Fire sprang up. Vinian stood back, raising his arms. Air lifted the flames off the earth. Vinian threw the fire into the trees. The leaves caught fire immediately.
Sela spotted the four men charging through the brush towards Vinian, whose focus was on feeding the fire with more wind.
“Mage!” she hissed. “Vinian!”
He did not hear her. She grabbed a small rock and flung it at him. He whirled. She pointed. Vinian’s gaze went to the men emerging from the forest. Magic hummed in the air.
The four stopped at an invisible barrier, pawing at it. One took a sword to it, but the barrier blocked him.
Vinian motioned her forward. Sela went, not about to leave the side of a mage who could block an army. He grabbed her hand and darted towards the forest opposite where they had been, closer to
the sounds of battle.
The fire he started arced over their heads and landed at some point ahead. Another blaze grew from the direction they headed, lighting up the battle.
Vinian stopped, and Sela ran into him. He looked behind them.
“Their mage just freed the men,” he said. “Come! Quickly!”
He bolted.
Sela followed. Branches snagged her clothing. She paused to free her braid and tunic from the bramble. Glancing up, she realized Vinian had not waited. He was charging into the battle Citon told them to avoid. Hands shaking at the thought of being diced in two, Sela focused first on freeing herself from the thorns.
Men crashed through the woods behind her, terrifying her. She yanked her tunic free and followed the path Vinian had taken. The heart of the battle was going on in a clearing too small for the two-dozen men within it.
She broke into the clearing and froze, not at all certain where to go. Vinian and the mage-warrior were nowhere in sight. Heart racing, she sensed the man behind her try to grab her and ducked out of his grasp. She darted away.
Tieran! She gave him a mental shout, praying he was able to hear her. Sela cried out as one of her pursuers snatched her arm. She twisted free, but the sword pointed at her throat kept her from moving. The four men surrounded her. Silently, she cursed the wind mage for abandoning her.
“Damn mages.” Citon’s grumble preceded the first strike of his sword.
For once, she agreed with him.
Warm blood splattered her. The men around her turned their attention to him, and he fought them with the patient skill of a trained mage-warrior. There was none of Tieran’s hot wildness in his moves, only cold discipline.
When the four opponents were slain, Citon held out his hand, gaze on the forest around them. She took it, and he pulled her towards the sound of more fighting and stopped beside a tree.
“Stay right here,” he ordered. “Listen to me this time, mage!”
She nodded, shaking from the close call of losing her head.
He darted into the battle.
Sela hunkered down beside the tree.
The battle was focused and tight in one end of the clearing. Citon, joined by both the guard who had been posted with Lord Winlin, and the bound noble himself, fought for a short time. The guard fell into the chaos, and Sela assumed he was dead. The two mage-warriors, stronger than normal men, remained on their feet and fought back-to-back. At some point, Citon relented and cut Lord Winlin free. The two fought side-by-side.
Citon’s head twisted suddenly, an indication the wind mage was in trouble. He slapped Winlin on the shoulder and moved away. Both were swallowed by swarming men in red cloaks.
Sela crept around the tree. It did not seem possible that the two warriors and a mage were going to win this battle. The thirty men they thought awaited them was closer to fifty. While their enemies were falling, it was not fast enough.
Fire reflecting off the long, bluish blade of a familiar broadsword drew her gaze. Sela moved away from the tree, staring in the direction of the side of the battle near the trees across from her. Her heart leapt in her chest, and warmth raced through her.
“Tieran,” she breathed, uncertain why his appearance filled her with the conflicting emotions of exhilaration and dread.
9
As he had in the village, Tieran cut a path through the battle.
His skill was terrifying – and mesmerizing. Enemies melted around him in a flurry of flying limbs, blood, and bodies falling. He did with two sweeps of his sword what Citon and Winlin had done with twenty. Sela cringed at the thought of facing him and his crazed magic. By this point, he was likely mad.
Tieran thinned out the battle fast. Where there had been too many men to see the bushes on the other side, she now saw the bramble at the base of the trees in the bright light of the fire. Sela started forward, eager to feel less vulnerable than she did with her back to the forest. Picking her way through the downed men, she sensed air magic humming around her and glanced up.
Tieran had cornered the wind mage. Whatever Vinian tried to do, he failed, for Tieran slammed him into a tree. The look on the wind mage’s face would have made her laugh, if she did not believe Tieran was about to cleave him in two.
She ran. Too late, she saw his sword swoop down. Citon was there to block, but he was no match for her mage-warrior. Sela skirted the bodies piled in her path and ran to them.
“Stop, Tieran!” she cried, pausing near him to assess how mad he was.
He froze. Her frantic gaze went to Citon, who was straining beneath Tieran’s blade. The mage was unconscious on the ground behind him. Citon was on one knee, blocking the blow Tieran delivered before she called out to him.
Sela closed the distance between them and neared the poised predator that was her warrior.
Neither he nor Citon moved. Sela slid in front of Tieran. His feral gaze was a sign of the magic tormenting him. She reached up to his face and touched his cheeks. When he did not reject her, she leaned into him until their bodies touched and pushed her cool magic into him.
He shuddered as her magic hit his hot blood.
“I owe them a life debt,” she whispered. “You will not hurt them.”
His breathing was erratic. She sensed his sword lower a moment before his other arm circled her. He hauled her against him hard, trapping her against his body. Knowing he was unable to calm if she was tense, Sela forced herself to yield against him. She pulled his face towards hers as she might a startled horse. His eyes closed, and he rested his chin against her temple. She noticed his scent again, the mix of man and sweat. His body was hard and warm, the arm around her strong.
For the first time since they met, Tieran yielded to her. She felt his surrender, and it touched her on a level that left her confused yet pleased. She listened to their breathing. Hers was steady. His became slower, until their rhythms synced. It felt as if there was no one in the world but the two of them, sharing a moment unlike anything she had ever experienced with Karav.
Self-conscious and uncertain why Tieran’s feverish heat was pooling at the base of her belly, she released his face. The intimacy of the moment rattled her. Why did it thrill her?
Tieran straightened, calm and in control once more. He sheathed his sword at his back and looked at the men he was prepared to kill with disinterest. He released her.
“Whatever life debt she owed you, it is repaid,” he snapped at them.
Relieved, Sela almost sighed. She broke their contact and turned to face the others, none of whom had sheathed their weapons in the face of the rabid animal that was her guardian. After a moment, Citon replaced his sword at his hip. The wind mage was wary, the other mage-warrior’s narrowed eyes on Tieran.
“Citon, Winlin, Vinian, meet Tieran,” she said at the thick silence.
“How do you let your warrior stray so far that he barely returns for a battle?” Vinian asked, frowning.
Tieran tensed. Sela glanced up at him, sensing he remained close to snapping. She leaned into him. His arm went to her hip instinctively as her body met his again. She shook her head at Vinian with a glance at Citon, who seemed most able to understand her mage-warrior.
“Inlanders do things differently, Vinian,” Citon said, reading her look. “Will you be traveling with us?” He addressed this question to Tieran. “We could use a guide through the Inlands. I fear we do not have another route back to our homeland.”
“Perhaps.” Tieran’s short answer surprised her. “Do you have gold?”
“Some.” Citon took the response as positive while the two behind him exchanged an uneasy look. “I’ll fetch our horses.”
“I, uh, will accompany you,” Vinian said.
Lord Winlin lowered his sword. His gaze fell to Sela’s, and he offered a faint smile.
“My apologies,” he said with a small bow. He trailed the others.
Sela muttered the foulest curse Karav had taught her as the man who used magic to warp her thoughts left.
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“You sound like an Inlander, mage,” Tieran replied.
“If they betray us, kill him first,” she said.
When the others had disappeared into the forest, Tieran stepped away from her. Sela faced him, searching his face to ensure he was normal.
“You want to travel with someone?” she asked. “Why?”
“I may kill them yet.” He struck off into the forest. “Come, mage.”
“Oh, gods,” she murmured. She obeyed, wanting to ask him something else but fearing his answer.
He mounted the horse Karav left for her and offered his hand. She looked at it then up at him, finally taking it. He pulled her up in front of him. She felt his tension and relaxed as much as she could against him.
“Say it,” he ordered quietly.
“Say what?”
“Mage,” he growled.
“Why do you keep leaving?”
He said nothing.
“You are like a caged animal testing its boundaries. When you finally figure them out, I might be dead.” There was more emotion in her voice than she wanted. “You need me as much as I need you. We are both in danger.”
“I don’t want to need you.” The frustration was clear in his voice. “I can handle danger.”
“Can you tell me the fire in your blood will calm under anything other than my touch?” she snapped.
His body had grown tenser in response to hers. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her fully against him. She sighed and gave.
“We belong together. It’s how it is for now. Whether or not we want it to be that way,” she finished. “I cannot survive the Inlands with three kingdoms hunting me. Where do you go that is so urgent, you leave me in danger?”
He said nothing.
“Do you intend to abandon me again?” she prodded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“It is my concern, not yours, mage.”
“What could possibly be important enough for you to forsake your oath to protect me?”
She did not think he would answer, but when he did, his tone was soft, lethal. “Vengeance,” he said.
She frowned, about to ask him what he meant, when they came into view of the other three, who were mounted and waiting.
