by Lizzy Ford
“I’m no mage.”
“You carry the blood of ancient mages. My mother did not have my power, but she had the magic in her blood,” she explained. “I imagine your ancestors also carried mage-warrior blood. Perhaps the mages guardians are there.” Her eyes went to the men’s side of the corridor.
“These are mated pairs across from one another,” he said, indicating the tombs. “Is that usual? For a water mage to mate with her warrior?”
“I don’t know. The women in my mother’s line have always married nobles chosen for them by the king,” she said thoughtfully. “You have no less than twelve water mages among your ancestors. Could you imagine how powerful a water mage would be, if your line and mine were to mix?”
The moment the words left her mouth, her breath caught. They were wrong. So very wrong.
Sela began walking up the sloping path, back towards the entrance and away from Tieran. The retort she expected from him did not come. She hurried ahead, unable to deal with the tension between them in such an enclosed space.
She breathed deeply when she stepped out of the catacombs and into the sun. Tieran followed her, his expression grim, if not troubled.
“I apologize, Tieran,” she said again. “I heard the ocean and followed.”
He glanced at her before turning to close the door leading to the catacombs. “I’m not concerned.”
Surprised, she did not know how to respond. Tieran was upset, but it was unlike him to keep his anger to himself.
“Tieran, what is it?” she pressed. “Your quietness is driving me mad!”
“I thought you would prefer it this way.”
“You have never once done anything I preferred!” she retorted. “I would rather you be you than … this.”
He snorted, the only sign of his amusement. When satisfied the door was closed securely, he faced her.
“I brought you to my home for a reason,” he said.
“For gold.”
“Yes.” He wiped his mouth. “But also to remind me.” He walked away, back towards the burnt out village.
Sela trotted after him. “Remind you of what? You’ve had your revenge.”
“That’s not what I mean, Sela.”
She shook her head, frustrated.
Tieran did not stop walking when he reached the village but led her to one of the many burnt out foundations towards the center. He stopped then, jaw clenched.
“My sisters died here. My mother and father as well.”
She gazed around the space in respectful silence.
“The Inland wars are nothing compared to what you will draw to us.”
Sela lifted her chin in defiance without speaking. Tieran was beginning to realize the truth of their situation. It was not the time to remind him she had been trying to warn him of their danger all along.
“I have thought the past few days it would be better for you if you married your cousin and had an army to protect you,” he added with a scowl. “I have also thought you are mine, and I will never lose what is mine again, even if that makes me a fool.”
“Did you think to ask me?” she questioned, irritated he would decide her fate without consulting her.
His gaze fell upon her.
“You’re my guardian,” she said. “As much as I hate to admit you’re right, I would rather be here than some king’s prized possession at court. I will not fight a war where I am forced to take innocent lives.”
“We may die here, Sela, and soon.”
She shifted her weight, distressed by the confident warrior’s sudden loss of faith in their destiny. “You won’t let that happen,” she replied. “We can find allies. Your uncle might help us.”
“Dare I endanger the lives of my remaining kin for the sake of a mage?”
She flushed. The words were spoken without heat, but the impact was the same as if they had been shouted at her. “That is a decision you must make,” she said and turned away. “I would never fault you for choosing family over duty.”
She walked away stiffly. The depth of his concern left her feeling like the helpless burden she had always been to him. Protected by her father, Karav’s family had never been threatened, but Tieran’s would always be in danger.
Sela allowed the tug of the catacombs to guide her path. She wanted to uncover why the sea appeared to be speaking to her in the land-locked Inlands. Doubting Tieran would choose her over his kin, she tried not to let his unspoken rejection wound her.
Why did she feel crushed? She had peered into his heart and lost her ability to push him away while he appeared unscathed by the changes between them.
She returned to the entrance of the catacombs. Instead of entering, she sat at the base of the hidden door and concentrated on understanding the water magic’s faint whisper.
For once, Tieran did not pursue her. Her sorrow expanded as the day grew on. After all they had been through, would he abandon her now?
Dusk fell several hours later, and still he did not come to her.
Sela sighed, prepared to convince herself to give up any hope of Tieran being at her side. She rose and circled the hill. Expecting to see a fire, she was surprised to find none. The closer she walked to the charred village, the quicker she went.
Tieran was gone.
“Tieran!” Sela reached the edge of the village, searching the area visually. If he had gone hunting, would he not have ordered her to remain where she was until he returned?
How could he have left at all, knowing the madness would claim him?
“He’s gone.”
She whirled. The translucent mirage of the Sorcerer stood a short distance behind her.
“Did you take him?” she demanded.
“Trapped in my palace, I can do little,” he reminded her. “And my armies cannot cross the ocean. I lost all my trade ships today.”
“That’s your fault!”
“I misjudged you.” His image flickered without completely disappearing. “I came to negotiate.”
“I have other concerns requiring my attention.” She turned away, alarmed by his claim and hoping to find some sign Tieran was not gone for good.
“I will tell you where he is, if you grant me one request.”
She frowned. “How do you know where he is?”
His form materialized in front of her. “One of my few abilities is that of observing from afar. Though I cannot see you at all times, I happened to be looking when he was taken.”
“You’ve been watching me?” She glared at him.
“Yes. For a moon or two.”
She shook her head and chose to deal with the more pressing matter. “Tieran would never be taken if he were alive and not under a spell.”
“The men who took him bound him with a leather whip and dragged him off without resistance. They wore the sigil of a crossed sword and arrow. If what little I know of your people is correct, it is the symbol of the mage-warrior slayers used rarely but maintained by priests to punish rogue warriors. They disabled him and placed a collar around his neck.”
Sela’s pulse raced, and her breath caught. Karav had told her about the slayers, which priests used as the last resort to kill a rogue warrior who could no longer be controlled. “How do I know you tell the truth?”
“Because I need something from you. I will trade whatever you ask for in exchange.”
“Tell me where he is,” she whispered. “Once I verify he is there, I will grant your request.”
“I’ll show you.” The Sorcerer’s form vanished, only to appear forty horse-lengths away, near a hill opposite the one where she felt the ocean.
She hesitated and then followed, determined to find Tieran, even if she had no plan for freeing him without being captured.
14
It was well past dark when she reached a hill overlooking a shallow valley. Sela spotted the glow of a small bonfire long before she knelt in the grasses atop the hill. The mirage escorting her stopped beside her.
A dozen warriors in pur
ple, the color of the Kingdom of Masu, the northernmost island in the chain, had camped out in the grass around a large tent beside the bonfire. Her eyes skimmed over them and rested on the figure of Tieran in a metal cage. Around his neck, he wore a metal collar. He was seated and resting, slumped as if tired. The guard beside him bore the sign of a sword and arrow and appeared even larger than Karav.
From what Karav had told her, the collar contained an ancient magic that pre-dated the mage-warriors. It was used to bring in, and control, rogue warriors who disobeyed their kings or priests. Only two kingdoms possessed the rare metal: hers and Masu, who had once been an ally of the High King.
“I have fulfilled my part of our trade,” the Sorcerer said.
“You have,” she murmured. “I assume you want the curse lifted.”
“While I would love not to have my armies drowned at sea, I had a different favor in mind,” he responded dryly.
She glanced at the mysterious figure still taking pains to hide his face. “What can possibly be more important than that?”
“I want you to travel to my kingdom at a future time I determine. You may bring your savage. You will have safe passage through my lands, but you must agree to come when I beckon you to.”
“I’ve never heard of anything more bizarre,” she exclaimed quietly. “You could save your armies and trade, and you choose to command me to visit you instead? I was serious about pulling your palace into the ocean.”
“I am desperate. I will take that risk.”
“You must be.” Sela shook her head. “Very well, Sorcerer. I will journey to your kingdom at your will.”
“Thank you.”
She did not wait for him to disappear and stood. “There is a chance I will be dead by then.” She motioned to the encampment.
“You mean to confront them all?”
“I mean to surrender. I don’t know what happens next.”
“Strategy must be the savage’s strength.”
She glared at him and took a step.
“Wait,” the sorcerer said reluctantly. “I cannot cast any spell. But I will reveal a secret you have begun to unravel already.”
Sela smiled to herself. If the proud Sorcerer were willing to help her for free, he was as desperate as he claimed to be.
“According to the scholars of my kingdom, there used to be four islands long ago. Two collided and formed the largest of them.”
“This island used to be two,” she mused. “How will this help me?”
“A channel runs through a fault between them. Its weakest point, where the sea pushes up against the fault, is at the bottom of the catacombs. I believe this is what you felt underground.”
“How …” She turned to face him.
The mirage was gone.
Had he been spying on her when she ventured into the catacombs?
Sela looked long and hard back the direction she came. What use was the insight, if she was about to be captured by an enemy?
Squaring her shoulders, she strode down the hill behind the cage, intent on helping Tieran somehow. Two of the guards spotted her and moved closer. Neither drew their swords, leading her to believe they were expecting her.
Tieran noticed her as well and rose, moving to the back of the cage. “Sela,” he said. “Leave. Now.”
“No,” she replied, pausing at the cage. She reached through to touch him. He took her hand and shuddered. She studied the collar. It was locked and glowed faintly. To free him, she needed the key.
“I cannot protect you, and you cannot fight anyone without water,” Tieran’s voice was quiet, terse. “Please leave, Sela.”
“They won’t kill me.”
“There are many fates worse than death.” He held her gaze, jaw clenched hard enough for the muscles of his cheek to tick. “Watching them hurt you is one of them.”
She smiled, touched by his concern. “I won’t leave without you, Tieran,” she replied. “Never.” She moved away, towards the bonfire.
He cursed. “Sela!” He rattled his chains.
She drew a deep breath and paused at the center of the encampment. “Fetch your lord,” she ordered the guards surrounding her.
One of them disappeared into the tent. A breath later, a seasoned warrior, trailed by a noble in dress too fine for the Inlands, exited. The warrior stepped aside. When the noble saw her, he smiled.
Sela kept her composure. She did not know this noble from any other, but his blue eyes were bright, and his clothing pristine. He appeared out of place, as if he were preparing to attend court, and not stranded in the Inlands.
“As you claimed,” the noble said, glancing at the warrior. “She came.”
“I had no choice,” Sela replied. “Now that you have me, free my guardian.”
The slap came before she could move. Sela’s ears rang. Her cheek burned, and she tasted blood in her mouth.
“When my lord wishes you to speak, he will order it,” the warrior with leathery skin said.
Sela wiped blood from the corner of her mouth, eyes on the noble rather than the soldier. “You let your slaves speak for you?” she taunted.
The warrior raised his arm again, but she refused to back down.
The noble’s smile widened. “Let her speak, Keni,” he said. “After all, she is the niece of a king.”
“Not our king,” Keni said, though he stepped back.
“When she’s ours, you may strike her at will. Until then, she will receive what hospitality I decide to offer.”
A chill slid down Sela’s spine.
“I am Henli, heir to the House of Berin,” the man said.
She studied him. “I know all the noble houses of Masu, and Berin is not among them.”
Henli released an irritated sigh. “This is true. But we are the wealthiest family on any island, and I have high hopes of marrying into the king’s family as a reward for capturing you.”
Sela guessed his family were tradesmen but did not ask. “You’re a mercenary.”
“I prefer the term opportunist,” Henli said. “Your guardian will not be set free. To harness your power, we will have to replace him.”
“I sense no other mage-warrior here,” she replied.
“Before his death, the High King sought to murder existing mage-warriors outside your kingdom, perhaps to keep you within the family. The last remaining warrior in Masu is safely hidden.”
“If you think to murder my guardian now, we will never make it across the ocean.”
“I’m aware. We would have killed him already if this weren’t true.” Henli motioned to the slayers positioned on either side of Tieran. “Your answer to my next question will determine how much pain I put him in. He only needs to be alive to cross the channel safely.”
She turned. Six guards with spears surrounded Tieran’s cage. Bound in chains, weakened by the collar, he had no chance of escaping anything they did to him.
“Do not agree to anything, Sela,” Tieran said. His eyes burned with feral fire, and he pulled at his chains, ignoring the soldiers intent on hurting him.
Sela’s heart turned over in her chest. Anger filled her. If they were near the ocean …
“A bounty has been placed on your head by every king in the islands, including your own. It is not enough to be the first to capture you. Someone must be the one to claim you and return you to his king,” Henli added.
“What is your question?” she demanded.
One of the soldiers stabbed Tieran in the side.
Sela gasped and started forward, only to be grabbed and held in place by none other than the master-at-arms, Keni. Tieran showed no outward sign of pain despite the blood seeping through his side. Another soldier stabbed him in the calf.
“Stop!” Sela cried. “Tell me what you want from me!”
“Sela – ” Tieran’s voice carried a note of warning.
“I can’t lose you, Tieran! I won’t lose you!” she shouted at him. She rounded to face Henli, her blood boiling while fear laced he
r thoughts. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it. Stop this now!”
“That is the answer I wanted,” he said. “Come with me.” He strode towards the tent.
With a look back at Tieran, Sela followed. Dread weighed heavily in her gut. She thought hard about her alternatives. There was only one that interested her: the secret revealed by the mysterious Sorcerer. If what he said were true, she remained helpless, unless she could reach the channel she had felt at the bottom of the catacombs.
How did she escape with Tieran, let alone return to the hill before being captured?
“My terms are simple,” Henli said, drawing her attention away from her thoughts. “My family has bought the loyalty of the mage-warrior who will take your guardian’s place. The Inlands are too dangerous for him to travel here. The ceremony will occur after we safely cross the Sapphire Channel,” he said, referring to the passageway between Vurdu and Masu.
His intention was no different than that of any other she had met. “Very well,” she said. She would play him as she had initially played Tieran: agree openly while seeking an escape route.
“To assure your cooperation …” Henli opened one of the trunks stacked against a wall of the tent. “You will be bound with this.” The tradesman removed a metal cuff similar to the one Tieran wore around his neck, down to the faded rainbow patina. “If you resist, or try to escape, or go farther than ten horse lengths from me at any time, the magic in this will cause your guardian immense pain.”
Sela met his gaze, unwilling to show her dismay. Lord Winlin’s attempt at using magic to seduce her was appearing far less threatening than the other methods of assuring she cooperated that she had encountered.
The noble handed the cuff to Keni, who gripped her wrist and locked the metal around her forearm. She took note of the key he slid into his pocket. He released her. She let her arm drop. The metal was heavy, cold against her skin.
“You will remain here, beside me, until we reach the channel,” Henli added.
She said nothing, her mind already working on an alternative plan. The lake was near. If they traveled by it, there was a chance she could gather enough magic to …
