by Amy Hopkins
George sat back and sighed. “Five. I can spare five men and no more.”
“Eight.” Francis rested his own hands on the table, palms down.
“If you must have eight, half will be from the mercenary group.” George flared his hands, chin wobbling as he capitulated.
“Why don’t you mix up the guards?” Julianne asked. “Pairing the less reliable ones with a more seasoned officer may temper their bad habits a little.”
“Perhaps.” George sat back, drumming his fingers on the table. “I’ve been keeping them separate, but I can see how your plan could work. It might show the newer men what real honor and integrity look like.”
Julianne nodded. “And your men will be able to quash any bad behavior. I don’t want you getting stabbed in your sleep,” she admitted. “Or sold to a demon,” she added with a grin.
George sighed in relief. “I’ll organize the change as soon as I return to Muir. My townspeople aren’t exactly thrilled at the sight of these ruffians. There have been rumors… Well…”
Julianne turned as something fluttered against her mind. “Someone’s coming,” she said.
Conversation halted as they waited. A moment later, the door swung open, and Clarke stumbled back in.
She jerked to a stop when she saw Lord George. “Oh! Err, sorry, my lords. Bette said—and Garrett… Um.” Flustered, Clarke stuttered to a stop.
“They’re coming here?” Julianne prompted.
Clarke nodded. “But… Well, Danil…” She pulled a series of strange faces, eyes wide, mouth grimacing, and head nodding at Julianne.
Stifling a chuckle, Julianne jumped into her head.
“Oh.” Julianne stood. “I’d best go meet them at the gate.”
George moved to stand, but she quickly put a hand on his shoulder. “No, no. Stay here. I’m sure you have lots to discuss with Francis.”
She held her breath, hoping he would take the hint. She didn’t want to use compulsion on him, but if he saw Danil in the gruesome state he was in…
“Well, if you don’t mind going alone…” George settled back into his seat with a grin. “My old bones would rather stay put, anyway.”
Julianne grinned. She waved Marcus down. “No, you stay, too. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
***
Danil’s mental tirade reached Julianne long before she saw him.
I fucking hate rearick, Danil thought loudly. Mountain-loving, swill-suckers. Goat-humping, bearded fuckers. As lovable as sand in your ass-crack. Or, no, like one of those spiked river-worms that swim up your piss-hole and stab you with their tails.
Someone’s in a good mood, Julianne sent softly.
A fast, irritable barrage of images and sensations flooded her mind. The stench of old, warm blood; a ruined shirt; fingers glued together by a crusted, sticky substance hit her with all the annoyance that Danil felt.
The torrent continued for several minutes. Julianne was tempted to block the mental sending, but knew it was Danil’s way of letting off steam. She let the feelings wash through her, despite the discomfort.
Even knowing what he felt couldn’t stifle the quick giggle that bubbled up when she saw him.
Caked in old blood, hair on end where he’d thoughtlessly swiped at it with his filthy hand, Danil looked like he’d come from a glorious battle, not a sweaty trip through empty fields.
“Fuck you,” he muttered. “Here.”
He threw the bag at Julianne, who deftly caught it by the knotted ends. She held it out at arm’s length.
“Go and wash,” she said.
A wolfish grin finally lit up his features. “You don’t want a hug from your best friend?” he threatened, spreading his arms wide.
“I dare you,” she said with a grin of her own.
Sighing, Danil wandered off towards the barracks.
“Make sure you don’t leave that mess in the horse’s trough!” she called.
“I’ll leave it in Bette’s sheets if she’s not careful!” he called back.
Julianne grinned and carefully placed the bag on the ground. She could sense the rearick coming and peeked out the gate.
“I’d avoid the barracks for a bit, if I were you,” Julianne cautioned as Bette and Garrett paraded through, still carrying the corpse like a wounded soldier.
“Thanks for the warnin’,” Bette said happily. “I’ll send Gus down ta clean up after ‘im. Bastard owes me a favor, he does.”
“Take that to Francis’s,” Julianne said. “Try not to drip the entrails on the floor, though?”
Polly trailed in last and stopped to whisper to Julianne before she went past. “How mad is he?” she asked.
Julianne shrugged. “About as mad as you’d expect.”
Polly nodded slowly. “I’d best go speak to him, then. I don’t think Lord George would appreciate losing his captain and his lieutenant before he gets here.”
“He’s already here,” Julianne said. “Are you sure you can calm him down?”
Polly nodded. “Anyway, he likes old George. I don’t think he’d want to scare him. And Bitch knows, he’s in a scary-ass mood.”
Julianne sighed in relief. “I’ll wait here. I want to see him before we go in.”
Polly trotted off, soon returning with a soggy, but mostly clean Danil. His hair dripped, and his shirt was balled up in his hands, but at least the blood was gone.
Julianne spread her arms.
“Are you sure you want a hug?” Danil asked dubiously. “I’m all wet.”
“As if I care,” Julianne said.
He folded himself into her arms and she squeezed, inhaling his familiar scent and allowing their minds to touch.
Surprisingly, whatever Polly did had worked. Danil was calmer and even content, and Julianne felt his joy at seeing her. Though a trace of irritability remained, his mood had improved immensely.
“Is Bette safe to go to bed tonight?” Julianne asked.
Danil snorted against her shoulder. “Far from it,” he said.
Julianne angled her head towards Polly, who shrugged innocently.
Whatever you’re planning, I don’t want to know, Julianne sent to her friend.
Plausible deniability? I can work with that, Danil silently replied.
He let go, pulling back to stretch his arms out. “You saw the beetle they brought in?” he asked.
Julianne nodded. “I saw it, and I don’t like it. Danil, if there’s one thing bigger than a vark on the other side of that portal, there’s likely more. And who knows what else…”
“Vark? You named them?” Danil mulled it over as Julianne nodded. “Fair enough. It suits them.”
“It was Bastian’s idea.”
He draped an arm over Julianne’s shoulder. “Well, it’s lucky we’ve got three clever mystics to come up with a plan, then, isn’t it?”
CHAPTER NINE
Julianne looked around the table, wondering if her plan would work. Even if it did, there was no guarantee of a helpful result.
Lord George blinked slowly, fatigue setting in. Once he’d received the message from Bastian asking him to meet with the Mystic Master, he’d assembled his traveling guards and journeyed through the night to be here.
Danil, now dressed and back to his usual jovial self, gazed at Polly. Polly, in turn, chewed her lip as she did her best to avoid looking over her shoulder at the bug-like body behind her.
Francis and Bastian chatted quietly about the progress of the school. Now that the building was underway and Arcadian nobles were coming to evaluate progress, Bastian had begun to feel the pressure.
Julianne glanced at Marcus, who gave her a small smile. He nodded for her to speak, seeing she had something on her mind.
“I have an idea,” she said abruptly. “I don’t know if it will work, but I think it’s something we need to try.”
Danil sat up quickly, sensing the excitement in her tone. “What are you up to?” he asked.
“Before I left the Heights, Artemis and I were playing wit
h the amphorald devices. He had a theory—but I haven’t had a chance to test it out. I left as soon as the rearick brought the new bracelets up.” She took a breath, aware she was talking too quickly.
Bastian cocked an eyebrow. “You’re talking about a new spell, aren’t you?”
She nodded, and Danil sucked in a quick breath. She let him nudge her mind, but resisted letting him in. She wanted to make sure she had the explanation—and the warnings—right.
“We might be able to create a link, similar to the three-way shields Rogan used. If we do that with the communication devices, there might be a way to send a signal to someone who doesn’t have one.”
Danil rubbed his bracelet, wrist still stinging where the needle had pierced his skin. He’d worn it less than an hour, but the security it gave—letting him stay in touch with those he cared about no matter how distant—made him wonder if he could ever take it off.
“But everyone that matters has one now,” he said. He’d already used his to reach Margit, Jonsen, and Amelia. “Except Zoe. Bastard knows if that girl will ever return to the heights, now she’s had a taste of freedom.”
Julianne felt his fondness for the young mystic. “She had quite the adventure in the Dark Forest with the druids, but she has returned home. Still, you’re forgetting someone. Two someone’s, actually, though you’ve only met one of them.”
She watched Danil work through the clues. When he connected the dots, his eyes shot open. “You don’t mean…”
Julianne nodded. “If anyone knows what’s going on, it’s Ezekiel. I don’t think it’s entirely coincidence that this rift developed right after he left on his great adventure.”
“Ezekiel? You mean, Founder Ezekiel?” George asked, bewildered. “I thought he was like Queen Bethany Anne—a mythical god, not a man who goes on adventures.”
Julianne settled back in her chair. “He’s as real as you or me. A little older, though.” She ignored Danil’s bark of laughter. “He left Arcadia before I did the first time. He didn’t tell me much about where he was going, but I saw enough to know it would change the world.”
“You just forgot to mention that?” Marcus asked.
“There was nothing to tell,” Julianne said. “He was so vague. I just know Hannah was involved somehow.”
“And Hadley?” Danil asked.
Julianne rolled her eyes. “That boy wouldn’t have stayed behind if I’d tied him to a tree. No, Hannah was the key to Ezekiel’s success, whatever his mission was.”
“If she’s as strong as you say…” Danil trailed off.
“Stronger.” Julianne bit her lip. “At least, she will be if she’s listened to anything I told her. If she’s kept up with her practice, it may be even easier to reach her than the Founder.”
Francis coughed. “Excuse me for interrupting—but it sounds like you’ve got a lot to deal with that doesn’t involve Lord George and myself. Do you mind if we leave you to it?”
Julianne reached out to clasp his hand. “I’m sorry I haven’t been very clear, Francis, but it’s a very long story. We’ll fill you both in later, I promise.”
Francis nodded, then gestured to Lord George. “Mary will have lunch on by now, if you’d like to join me?”
Polly watched them go but didn’t move. She sat still and quiet, as if hoping no one would notice she was still in the room.
“Polly, I’ll need you to stay alert. If Marcus gives you a signal, you’ll need to detach Danil’s bracelet.”
“What?” Danil yelped. “It hurt like a kick to the balls to get on, now you want her to take it off me?”
“Only if something goes wrong,” Julianne reassured him.
Polly nodded. “What’s the signal?”
“I’ll swear like a sailor and jump on Jules like a rodeo rider,” Marcus said. “Will that be clear enough for you?”
Polly laughed nervously. “Sure. But… let’s not let things go wrong?”
“We’ll do our best.” Julianne leaned over the table, reaching a hand out to the two other mystics.
Danil took one and Bastian grasped the other. When their own hands were linked, Julianne let her eyes mist over.
“Here goes nothing,” she said, then muttered something under her breath.
CHAPTER TEN
Julianne extended her magic out to Danil and Bastian, but instead of reaching out to them directly, she channeled her power through the amphorald.
Even recognizing when her power was funneled through the device had taken training and practice. Artemis had teased her, insulted her proficiency until Julianne could deliberately focus on the device embedded into her skin.
Meanwhile, the entire Temple had buzzed with news of a new shield. Artemis’s mind link had never been seen, and almost every mystic present tried to expand on the technique by combining it with other spells.
The only one that seemed to be effective was mind communication, and even that had only given a minor improvement.
Now, however, Julianne had three Mystics with amphorald devices and a target worthy of their attention. If she could push far enough, hard enough, she just might catch the attention of Ezekiel or Hannah, his student. Both had the capacity for immense power.
It was this power Julianne sought as she linked with Bastian and Danil. Using their presence as an anchor, she pushed out with her magic, stretching it across Irth and into the far reaches of places she had never been before.
Julianne reached until her mind wavered. She fought past the tightening of her temples, questing out farther than she’d ever reached.
Time stood still. The sounds around her—the gentle rustle of paper in a breeze, a chirping bird outside—melded into a high-pitched hum. The feel of cloth on her skin became a restrictive coating across every inch of her skin.
Julianne pushed harder, seeking a glimpse of the immense power Ezekiel held.
Far beyond the boundaries of Irth as she knew it, something latent hummed. It was a source of power, but not human. Still, Julianne pulled, forcing her mind to thin and reach farther.
Her energy drained and hope sank.
Ezekiel. The name tore from her mind unbidden.
Jules? Jules!
Not Ezekiel. A girl.
Zeke’s kinda busy. What’s up? Hannah’s mental voice was bright and soothing, giving Julianne the strength to hold on just a little longer.
Monsters. A portal. A hole in the sky. Images, memories of thoughts taken from others and of the dead beast behind her leaked through the bond with agonizing slowness.
Part of Julianne was aware that her thoughts were beginning to scatter and fracture. Foreboding cloaked her, but she didn’t let go. This would be their only chance to find out what these things were—Julianne would not be able to expend this much effort again.
You mean the Skrima? Hannah sent a flash of imagery. Damn, these bastards are popping up everywhere.
How… stop… Blackness began to crowd out Julianne’s thoughts like a noose. She had to hold on… just a little longer.
A hand touched her shoulder, but she shook her head, trying not to divert her attention to Marcus’s warning.
Julianne, hold on. Hannah’s presence flared brighter, reaching towards Julianne. You’ve gotta shut down the portal. Those little critters? They’re nothing compared to what else is out there.
A demon rose before Julianne, humanoid in form with great tusks protruding from its scalp. She cowered, arms over her head as it rose above and sliced down with a red, glowing blade.
Buzzing in Julianne’s ears formed words in a voice she didn’t recognize.
We call it the rift. It is through that hole that she has been sending her creatures. Their attacks serve many purposes, but I believe she has been testing us for weaknesses. Preparing for a larger invasion. I think she wants to take this planet for her own.
Jules? Jules, I’m losing yo—
Hannah’s voice faded, and Julianne slipped into the abyss.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
&nb
sp; Julianne’s head ached. The room was dark—no, her eyes were closed. She cracked one open and promptly shut it again when light stabbed her brain, making it scream.
“She’s moving,” Marcus said above her. “Can’t either of you do something?”
“Not if she’s burnt herself out.” Danil sounded worried, and Julianne tried to form the words to reassure him that she was ok.
“Nrgghh.” That wasn’t what she’d intended to say…
“Gods, will she be able to speak again?” Francis must have come in. If Julianne hadn’t been in so much pain, she’d have rolled her eyes.
I’m fine, dammit. Oh. They can’t hear me. I need to say it out loud.
Julianne stretched her eyebrows up in an effort to lift her eyelids. It worked, and this time she steeled herself against the light, angling her glance away from the window above her with an effort.
The window above her? She felt around with her hands and realized she was on the floor. Squinting, she grimaced at Marcus.
“Jules?” He leaned down, obscuring the glare.
“Wa—water?” She worked her mouth, trying to bring some moisture back into it and banish the hoarseness in her voice.
“You’re lucky I don’t tip a pig’s trough over your damn head.” Danil leaned over, coming into view as he spoke. “Do you have any idea how stupid that was? Of all the slug-brained, idiotic, goat livered things you could—”
“Should I assume that the danger is over?” Marcus asked dryly. “Because a minute ago you were promising you’d never curse her out again.”
“Not my fault the leader of the entire mystic community has a steaming pile of cowshit for brains.” Danil disappeared, his stomping feet sending prickles of pain through Julianne’s head.
“Wa—” Bastian appeared and lifted a cup to her lips before she could finish her demand.
Julianne swallowed thirstily, then rolled her tongue around her mouth. “We’re in danger,” she said in a low voice.
“Will this danger strike within the next few minutes, child, or can we take a moment to reassure ourselves of your safety first?” Lord George took her hand, and Julianne nodded.
