by Becky Allen
Moments of awareness came to him like sparks flung from a fire. As they blazed, he’d see faces, hear voices, know someone was speaking his name. He’d remember that he’d been in a battle, try to ask about Jae, but the spark would fade quickly and his mind would go dark again.
Then the real pain started.
He was hot everywhere, aware only that he felt like he was on fire. Someone poured liquid down his throat but it didn’t help. He screamed in agony as something was done to his side, realized that was where he’d been wounded, but soon that pain faded back into the burning that consumed him.
Every movement he made, every single twitch, was a torment. He was naked on a cold stone floor, and the coolness of the stones was mercy against his heated skin. Slowly he recognized a little more—that someone had come and bathed his wound in wine, that it was infected, that they slathered it with salve and made him drink, and that if he didn’t stop burning soon, he would die.
Try as he might, he couldn’t force himself to cool down. He couldn’t even force out words, thank his caretakers for the water, for cleaning the awful, cursed wound that had done this to him. He didn’t know where he was, how he’d gotten there. His world was searing agony, worse even than when he’d been lost in the desert and almost died. At least there, he’d had Jae.
Jae…
He had no idea what had happened to her, what had happened on the battlefield. He tried to ask, but his throat was too parched, his caretaker didn’t listen, he wasn’t even sure he was making real words. As he thought of her he struggled, tried to find himself, tried to wake himself up, but still he burned.
For the first two days, they didn’t let Jae walk. She wasn’t sure she was strong enough to walk, anyway. She sat on a cart pulled by a stolen horse, along with sealed water jugs and carefully preserved grains and dried meat. All the food they’d been able to take from their captured town had been placed on carts, most of them pulled by humans because there weren’t enough animals, and the entire, massive enclave had retreated.
Jae didn’t want to speak to anyone, and she didn’t want anyone to speak to her. So they left her alone, which was just as well, because she was useless now.
She couldn’t fight. Her magic was gone, and she was terrified every time she even tried to look into other-vision. There was no reassuring pulse of energy, no glow or swirl of light, no sense of the world around her beyond what she could see and hear. She couldn’t rise above her retreating army and seek out friends, assure herself they were safe, or look into the distance and sense coming threats. All she could do was stay huddled under a blanket, her skin clammy from all the moisture that hovered in the air. Storm after storm opened up, but the air never lost its moist edge, and sometimes she could barely breathe through it.
The retreat was plagued by rain, which also meant mud—and that made retreating even slower. As if moving an enclave of well over a thousand hadn’t been slow enough.
After two days, though, Karr told her they’d picked up new groups, Closest who hadn’t made their way to the original encampment but now had found and joined them. Their army was still growing, and the newcomers wanted to see her. Even if she was useless.
So she managed to stand on her own, discovered that though she was weak, she could walk, and she greeted them, not offering up her usual display of power. She walked throughout the army as it paused for the night and saw some familiar faces: Lenni, Casinn, Palma. Karr, and some of the other Closest who’d attached themselves to her since the Break. Many of them were wounded, slowing the retreat further still, but at least they were among the quarter of the force who had made it back.
Elan wasn’t.
Jae still expected to see him in the crowd, for him to break away and wave. For him to come up behind her, put a gentle hand on her elbow and smile as he tried to remember not to talk—and then to talk anyway, because he hated the quiet. She saw him in every shadow, heard his voice in every distant, hushed conversation. But, like Tal, he was gone.
No one had any idea if he’d survived or been killed in the battle. Jae had seen him fall, and so had Karr, but there was no way to guess if that blade had killed him. If he’d survived, only to be left behind, he might have bled to death in the park. If he hadn’t, somehow surviving all that, then he’d certainly have been taken prisoner.
Jae bowed her head every time she thought about it. He was the only person the Highest hated nearly as much as they hated her. After all, she was an outsider, but he was a traitor. He’d broken from their ranks, defied them, helped their enemies. Sworn himself to Jae and the Closest, devoted his life to finding and telling the truth. She doubted that any of the Highest or Avowed would believe how desperately he’d tried to remain loyal to his sister—all they’d see would be the way he’d defied his father at the Break. Erra herself was against him now, too.
The first attack came on the third day, as they passed near an estate where the Closest who’d risen up had been slain. Their frantic efforts hadn’t been enough, and neither had their number—and when the Avowed learned that even those who hadn’t been involved with the attack were free of the Curse, the rest had been put to death, too.
It was those Avowed who attacked. But their number was small, compared to the growing army, and though they did damage, they were defeated. But Jae had nothing to do with that defeat—without magic, she couldn’t help at all. Even had she wanted to fight, she wasn’t allowed. Karr made that very clear. Magic or no, the Closest considered her too valuable to risk her life in a skirmish.
They were retreating to Aredann, where they’d all be safer—and where they could keep her safe. She didn’t understand why, when she’d messed so many things up so badly. She was the one who’d ordered the attack that had cost so many lives, including Elan’s. Even when she’d had magic, it hadn’t been enough to win the day for them, and now she didn’t even have that. There was no reason for them to protect her anymore.
She felt like a flame that had been doused by the endless, cursed rain. She couldn’t even call up her rage, which had always been so endless. Tal was gone, Elan was gone, her magic was gone. She felt like she was gone, too, empty and exhausted and useless.
But it rained, and they retreated, and at least she could walk under her own power again.
Elan wasn’t sure if he was delirious or dreaming or if it was real when he saw Andra. He blinked a few times, not quite able to get his throat or mouth to work. She knelt next to him—he’d been dressed and moved to a sleeping mat, though all he could remember was cold stones. She had a lantern, and there were no windows around.
She peeled off the bandage that had been wrapped around him and washed his wound gently. He hissed with pain and she looked sharply down at him and said, “You’re awake.”
“Yes,” he said, barely able to force the word out.
“Hold on,” she warned him. She finished cleaning and then smeared something else sticky and sweet-smelling over the wound. He tried to push up onto his elbows to see how bad it was, if it had closed up or been sewn shut or if it still gaped and bled, but the movement hurt too much.
She finished and wrapped the bandage back in place, then moved to where he could see her, sitting back on her heels. She pressed a hand to his forehead and let out a breath.
“Keeping you alive was a cursed close thing,” she said. “You were sliced across the side, and then it was infected. You’re still warm, but I think the worst has passed.”
She moved to help him sit a little, folding the sleeping mat under him so his shoulders were raised. Then she poured a mug of water and helped him drink it down. That soothed his parched throat, but even just that motion exhausted him.
He forced out, “What happened?”
Andra was silent for a long moment, smoothing his hair back from his face. His skin crawled with the want of a bath, and he itched from dried sweat. Finally she said, “It was a rout. Jae and a few others escaped—not many, as far as we can tell, but it’s hard to say. And now the
whole Closest army is fleeing. The Highest will be after them soon, but they’re taking some time to gather their forces. They want to show strength. I think…I’m afraid that’s why they let you live.”
Elan grimaced, knowing exactly what that meant. It would have been easy for the Highest to leave him for dead on the battlefield, or to step aside and let the infection take him. But they’d dressed his wound, helped him fight the infection off, because they wanted him to live, for now. So that when he died, it would be in public, an execution in front of a crowd. Another spectacle.
Andra sighed and folded her hands in her lap. “I wish I could….There’s nothing I can do. Erra keeps me close. She doesn’t suspect me; she’s trying to protect me. I’m housed with Halann and the children now, can you believe that?”
He couldn’t even shake his head in surprise.
“I’d send word to Lenni if I could, but I can’t reach her, not without raising suspicion. Maybe not at all, now that the army is gone. And Erra won’t listen to me. I’ve tried to make her see reason, but she—she won’t even tell me how they found out about the attack. Someone in the Order is disloyal and I don’t know who, but someone betrayed Lenni and Jae.”
Of course. He hadn’t been coherent enough to even wonder, but since the Highest’s forces had been waiting for them, that meant they’d known about the tunnel exit and either known or suspected an attack was coming. Someone from the Order who’d been stranded in the city must have found out and switched sides after he’d told Osann about the tunnel. Or maybe it was Andra herself, loyal to Erra after all…
But no, because she hadn’t known about the aqueduct. He hadn’t been able to get word back to her after using it and he doubted Osann would have been able to reach her at the estate house, either. So she couldn’t have known about the coming attack.
“Did…” It was hard to talk, but he made himself. “Did Erra get the message from Jae?”
Andra nodded. “She wouldn’t tell me what it contained, but whatever it was, she didn’t believe it.”
“The Well,” he said. “If the Closest die, its magic will come unbound. The Well will dry up if all the Closest are killed. They have to stop this war. You have to convince her.”
“She won’t listen to me,” Andra said. “Only to the other Highest. She’s changed since her father died. I’ve never seen her so…so emotionless before. I’ll keep trying, but…” She didn’t sound hopeful. “Did you find the papers I hid?”
“Yes.” Elan’s throat hurt. He tried to keep his eyes open, stay awake, but he wasn’t sure it would last for long.
“Good. I think there are more here, in Danardae—and probably the other Highest’s houses, too. Their own histories, if they can even read them. I caught a glimpse in Elthis’s study once—Erra’s now, when I was in to see her, but…I couldn’t get close enough to check, and I certainly couldn’t have explained to her why I can read it.”
He gave a tiny fragment of a nod.
“I’ll steal it away if I can. Not that it’ll do any good now.” She sighed and stroked Elan’s face again, her fingers gentle. “I can’t stay. Erra’s been letting me play nurse, but if I linger, she’ll think you’re well enough to question. I’ll keep you safe as long as I can. I promise.”
He didn’t even have the energy to thank her. Just waited as she walked out, too weak to stay awake for more than a minute after her footsteps faded.
“Lady Mage,” Lenni said, and Jae braced herself. She was sitting on a muddy square of carpet, set on the even muddier ground, in front of a campfire. The rain had let up, but she was sure it would come pouring down again soon. Not that she could sense it in the air, feel the energy of the water grow thicker and thicker until rain spilled out. It was just that the clouds hadn’t given way once in the week they’d been traveling. It was hard to tell that this was dusk, not dawn or midnight or noon, with thick gray clouds blanketing the whole sky.
Jae looked up at Lenni and then back at the flames, raised the mug of tea she held to her lips to drink, and waited.
“Why did you tell everyone about your magic being…lost?”
Jae frowned, both at the rudeness of the question and that Lenni thought it was worth asking at all. Jae had told Karr and a few others, not to excuse how little help she’d been in the fight, but so they’d know she couldn’t protect them anymore. But Lenni waited, so she answered, “Because it’s the truth.”
Lenni sat in silence for a minute, and finally said, “I don’t think I understand you very well. All these people need you to be a leader, but you tell them you’re weak. Their faith in you is the only thing holding this army together. If they lose that…”
“I don’t want them to have faith if I can’t help them,” Jae said. “I won’t be like the Highest. I won’t let anyone follow me because of a lie. And…and after the slaughter at Danardae, maybe they shouldn’t follow me anyway—”
“You couldn’t have known that was coming,” Lenni said. “It was my idea. It’s my fault.”
“No. It was my decision,” Jae said, because she was certain of that much. Even though Lenni had pushed for it, if Jae had refused, the Closest would have followed her, not the Order. She’d given them their freedom, and she was also responsible for their deaths.
“Do you…” Lenni trailed off, then started again. “You know more about Aredann than I do, so I guess you really think we’ll be safe there.”
“As safe as we can be,” Jae said.
“That doesn’t really inspire confidence, either.”
“I’m not going to lie,” Jae said. “Not to you, or anyone else. I think we’ll be safest at Aredann, but there’s nowhere safe while the Highest reign. Pretending we are would only make things worse.”
“I suppose that is true,” Lenni agreed, and stood. “Rest up. Magic or no, you are their leader—our leader.”
She walked off, but a moment later Karr was there, taking her place. “I didn’t mean to overhear that, Lady Mage, but…well, I did.”
Jae cocked her head.
“We’d follow you anywhere. But she’s right, we do need you to lead us. We need your strength,” Karr said.
“But I don’t have magic anymore—”
“I know. But that isn’t what I mean. You told us you’re vulnerable, but that doesn’t make you weak. Your magic being gone…that doesn’t, either.”
Jae waited, not quite sure what he was getting at.
“You freed us. You gave us this chance. There’s not a man, woman, or child in this camp who wouldn’t follow you into the desert and give you their last drop of water.”
Jae shook her head. “I don’t deserve that. I broke the Curse, but look at everything else that’s happened. Whole enclaves were killed when they rebelled, and I led you directly into danger.”
“The Closest who died, died free,” Karr said. “If they were here to ask, they’d tell you the same as I will now. None of them would rather live cursed. Not after taking a single free breath. You must understand that. You were cursed, too.”
Jae did. It hadn’t been more than a few months ago, though it felt like a lifetime, but she could still remember the rush of realization. The Curse didn’t shackle her anymore, and—like Karr had said—she’d die before she’d return to slavery. But still.
“With my magic gone, I’m useless.”
“No. You’re our leader. I think Lenni…she tries, she means well, but she’s not one of us. You are. You’re ours,” Karr said, and then stood. “Eat up. You still need your strength.”
—
It rained, and they retreated. Jae walked shoulder to shoulder with different Closest every day, but not one ever blamed her for the lives she’d cost. Maybe they were simply keeping silent, until she realized the reason there were different people with her every day was that it was a position of honor. Karr was right: the Closest still followed her, even knowing she had no magic. Even though she’d made the wrong choice and cost yet more Closest lives. Even though Elan was proba
bly dead somewhere.
Lenni was more distant, but Jae could hear her sometimes, helping direct people, keeping the army moving. If she had reservations about the retreat to Aredann, she wasn’t making them known. Jae marveled a little at that—that Lenni, who had built the Order up from ashes, was now willing to follow her, too.
Yes, they’d always been on the same side. But as Jae looked back, she couldn’t help but see them very differently. Jae and the Closest had been fighting for their freedom; the Order had been fighting against the Highest. No wonder Elan had been so suspicious of Lenni and her people. The two causes had the same end goal, which made them natural allies, but the Order also had people like Palma—people who didn’t seem to care about the Closest much at all.
Palma had expected the Closest to be grateful. A thankful, docile mass that would put the Order in charge—put her in charge—and thank her for it. It had probably never occurred to Palma that the Closest wouldn’t be any more interested in the Order ruling them than in letting the Highest continue to do it.
But the Closest had made it clear that they would follow Jae, not the Order. Lenni seemed to have accepted that, which was a relief, since the Order would follow her. Jae was grateful Lenni was with her, even if she didn’t want to be the kind of leader Lenni was. The kind who refused to be vulnerable and could only think of ways to attack.
The army’s movements were slow. Jae tried to picture the future as she walked, to figure out what kind of leader she really wanted to be, and was so distracted that she barely noticed the low, slow pulse of the earth under her feet. When she did, she stumbled, and it was gone.
“Lady Mage…,” one of the Closest started, reaching to steady her.
Jae waved her off, staring at the world around her, concentrating, reaching—and yes, there it was again. Not as bright as she remembered, as if the energies were distant and weaker. But she could feel the earth.
