Magic Below Paris Complete Series Boxed Set (Books 1 - 8): Trading Into Shadow, Trading Into Darkness, Trading Close to Light, Trading By Firelight, Trading by Shroomlight, plus 3 more

by C. M. Simpson

  “I feel great,” she said and Roeglin smiled, turning his attention to the medic.

  “And you, Ilias?”

  “Good.”

  “Energized?”

  “Yes! Like…I don’t know… Like I’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

  Marsh put her hand on her hip and cocked her head.

  “When was the last time that happened?”

  Ilias laughed.

  “Not for a very long time, young lady. A very long time. It was like the magic came from around me, good, clean energy that healed what it touched. I just imagined what the injury would look like whole, and the magic came.” He sobered, his face growing serious as he fixed her with a thoughtful look. “You said anyone could do magic?”

  Marsh swallowed. She wasn’t about to tell him she’d lied.

  “Oui…”

  “So, my people, my staff—they could do this, too?”

  Marsh bowed her head, biting her lip as she realized she really would have to tell him the truth. She raised her head to look him in the eye.

  “Some will be able to do this, but it’s like singing or fighting or running. Some folks are better at it than others, and some can do one kind of magic better than they can do others, while some struggle to do any at all.”

  Ilias stared at her in shock.

  “You’re joking.” He glanced down at Roeglin. “Tell me she’s joking!”

  The shadow mage shook his head.

  “No, but she couldn’t exactly tell you that before you tried or the magic might not have come at all. The main thing you need, even if you can call magic, is the belief that you can do it. No doubts.”

  Ilias opened his mouth, angry color suffusing his face, but Roeglin kept talking.

  “The way you feel now means you have found the magic that best suits you.” He glanced at Marsh. “Or one of them.”

  Marsh returned his glance. One of them? Did he mean to make it sound like she was one of the few who’d learned to wield more than one? She caught his slight nod that indicated that was exactly what he meant, but Ilias still had questions.

  “How do I know which of my people can heal? Or what they can do?”

  “You’ll just have to ask them to try,” Roeglin told him, and a look of sheer mischief crossed his face. “Much like you did with my trainee here.”

  Ilias looked shocked, and his face flushed.

  “Master Leger, I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” He stopped when Roeglin laid a hand on his arm.

  “You did nothing wrong,” he said. “Sometimes a master misses the potential simply because he hasn’t thought of it.”

  “All the same, I—”

  Roeglin cut him off, again.

  “How often has magic been seen in these caverns?” he asked. “Think about it.”

  The medic stilled. He was quiet for a moment, but Marchant knew he was thinking the same thing she was. Until recently, magic had only been used by the shadow mages and the rock wizards, although very few knew of them and they’d been particularly secretive in the last few years.

  “Not often,” Ilias replied. “There have been one or two, but they’ve either joined the monastery or…or they’ve left.”

  “Yes,” Roeglin told him, “and now I have to wonder where they went.”

  It was a matter they’d have to pursue another time, because Marsh heard the clatter of hooves in the yard outside, and Roeglin swung himself out of bed. He caught Marchant’s blush as she turned away.

  “I’ll need some clothes.”

  “And I’ll check downstairs,” Marchant added, hurriedly thinking of an excuse to leave. “See if Captain Guillemot has anything he wants me to do.”

  Her face flamed as she left, Roeglin’s smug chuckle not helping.

  23

  Orelia’s Return

  When Marsh arrived downstairs, Captain Guillemot was standing behind a chair at the dining room table, his attention drawn by the arrival of his men. Around him, another half-dozen members of the squad were on their feet, their attention divided between him and the sounds outside. The captain spared a glance for Marsh and returned his attention to the Protector who had beaten her through the door.

  “Who is it?” he demanded.

  “Captain Orelia sends his regards, sir, and requests your hospitality.”

  Captain Guillemot replied as surprise sent shockwaves through Marsh. Orelia had been the name of the captain who’d gone after the raiders and the missing slaves. That he was back so soon didn’t bode well for his success. As hard as it was, she forced herself to silence, waiting for the captain’s reply and not missing the glance he threw her way.

  “I’ll go,” he said and headed for the door.

  “Come with me,” he added, speaking to Marsh as he passed her, and then he looked a little beyond her. “You, too.”

  Marsh turned her head and saw Roeglin coming down the stairs. He was alone, and Marsh wondered where Ilias was.

  “I’m not his only patient.”

  Ah, well, that explained it. Marsh waited until he came alongside her before following Captain Guillemot. The captain didn’t wait, nor did the four men wearing the insignia that indicated they were higher in rank than most of the others.

  Lieutenants, Roeglin provided. They’ll go to see what changes with Orelia’s arrival, and then they’ll take his orders to the rest.

  Marsh studied the insignia, hoping to remember it the next time she saw it. Roeglin tapped her on the shoulder, and she realized she’d stopped.

  “You’re holding up the party, Trainee,” he told her, and she resisted the urge to slap his shoulder in return.

  Decorum, right?

  And discipline, Roeglin added, like she needed reminding, then, catching her thought, he added, You mean you don’t?

  Marsh felt her cheeks color but didn’t dignify his quip with an answer. There were other things she had to pay attention to.

  If Roeglin had any thoughts on that, he kept them to himself, and they hurried after the captain, catching up as he addressed the new arrivals. Captain Orelia had remained mounted, as had his men, even though they were clearly exhausted.

  Rules of hospitality, Roeglin explained. He’s making sure he’s welcome.

  What would he do if he wasn’t?

  He’d keep riding until he reached the next farm.

  Looking at the troops, Marchant wasn’t sure they could. Their mules’ heads drooped, and the animals’ hides were covered with dust and sweat. Every line of their bodies was etched with exhaustion, and so were their riders. The men sat slumped in their saddles, although those closest to their captain were doing their best to sit upright and look alert.

  They succeeded, but their tiredness was apparent. Captain Guillemot’s reaction showed he understood the situation. Marsh assumed there was some sort of traditional dialogue expected between the two captains, and that Guillemot skipped it.

  “Welcome, Francis. If you and your men will follow Lieutenants Gier and Solange, they’ll show you where to sleep. Lieutenants Bairdie and Dieter will see to your mules.”

  “You are too kind,” Orelia began, “but—

  His fellow captain cut him off.

  “But nothing, Captain. Unless it will affect our security, you can brief me when you’ve eaten and rested.”

  Captain Orelia subsided.

  “I have nothing of immediate note to report, and place my men in your care,” he said, and slowly swung himself out of his saddle. “Thank you, Captain.”

  As if his reply and movement were a signal, the men riding with him followed his example. To their credit, Lieutenants Bairdie and Dieter had already sent runners to fetch help, and it didn’t take long for the riders to hand the reins of their animals to the men coming to get them. Roeglin and Marsh watched as the beasts were led to the barn and the men to the barracks that usually housed the farmhands.

  “Captain, may I speak with the captain?” Roeglin asked, and Guillemot nodded.

  “Do not h
old him up or keep him long.”

  “I understand.”

  Marsh had wondered what the captain had meant and how Roeglin was going to speak with Orelia without holding him up, but it soon became clear. The captain had stripped off his armor and clothing and was standing at a trough of water in the barn. The other men and women of his squad were standing alongside him, doing their best to wash the road dust from their skins. None of them were wearing anything, and Lieutenants Gier and Solange had set a watch around them.

  “Halt,” ordered one as Roeglin went to pass the line.

  “I have Captain Guillemot’s permission,” Roeglin replied, but he didn’t try to move past the man. “I can wait while you send someone to check.”

  To Marchant’s surprise, the man signaled to one of the others and he came over.

  “I need to make sure,” the soldier said, and Roeglin nodded.

  “I will wait.”

  “He says he has the captain’s permission.”

  The other soldier did not wait for more instructions but hurried back toward the farmhouse, returning with confirmation a few moments later.

  “Thank you,” Roeglin said when the man gestured for them to go through.

  The shadow mage did not let the others’ state of nudity slow him down, nor did he check to see if Marsh was following. He just swept through the line of guards, expecting her to follow. Orelia had moved away from the trough and was rubbing himself dry with one of the towels provided as they approached. His face broke into a smile when he saw Roeglin.

  “Roeglin! Come.” He finished with the towel and passed it to the next trooper, not even glancing at her as she thanked him. Moving swiftly to where packs were lined up along the walls, he pulled a fresh shirt and trousers out of one and put them on. “I take it you want to know how it went?”

  “I know you don’t need to report to Guillemot, but if you wouldn’t mind?”

  Orelia cut straight to the chase.

  “We didn’t catch up with them if that was what you were hoping. The trail ended at a solid stone wall. I know that because Derschanel spoke with it.” Orelia paused as though remembering, and his voice took on a tone of wonder when he continued, “He said he pulled images of what had happened from the stones. The raiders opened a path and led our people through before closing the way behind them.”

  Again, he paused. This time there was genuine puzzlement in his voice when he continued.

  “He said the rocks couldn’t show him where the people went because they weren’t connected with the stone on the other side. How is that possible?”

  “They create gates through the shadow,” Roeglin told him, “but this is the first time we have heard of them parting the rock as they do so. It’s not good to know the rock wizards working with them are strong enough to do that.”

  “Those wouldn’t be the first,” Marsh muttered, remembering Ardhur encasing her in rock, and Roeglin turned to stare at her.

  Orelia gave a tired chuckle and patted Roeglin on the shoulder.

  “They promised us breakfast,” he said, indicating the soldier waiting for them. “She can debrief us as we eat.”

  Oh, she could, could she?

  “Yes, she can,” Roeglin agreed, tucking his arm through Marsh’s and adding, “before I have to kick her tail for not doing it earlier.”

  “We were a bit busy, and then you weren’t well.”

  “This is true,” Roeglin admitted, but Orelia had picked up on what Marsh had said.

  “Not well?”

  “Some of the raiders use shadow-monster poison on their blades. The Deeps know where they get it from, or how.”

  They arrived at the large downstairs room that served as both dining hall and meeting room, and Captain Guillemot greeted them.

  “Sit,” he told Orelia, gesturing to a table in the corner. “I’ll join you. If Master Leger is badgering you for information, I might as well save you from having to deliver it twice.”

  Orelia followed Guillemot to the table and waited until his host had seated himself.

  Guillemot has seniority, Roeglin said when she wondered why Orelia was acting like Guillemot was in charge when they were both captains.

  Ah. She’d been thinking it was because Orelia was the guest, Guillemot being the first to make the farm his base of operations.

  That, too. Now, be silent and listen.

  Marsh resisted the urge to roll her eyes and took her seat at the table, aware of more than one of the soldiers glancing toward them. Anyone would think this was a big deal.

  It is. Civilians don’t get to sit at the captains’ table.

  Since when were they civilians? They had as much at stake in this battle as the rest, and they were working for Monsieur Gravine.

  All true, but we are not officially part of the Four Settlements Protectors, and that sets us apart.

  Oblivious to their conversation, Captain Orelia started his report, telling them of his entry into the caverns Aisha had blocked.

  “It took Derschanel almost an hour to clear that mess. Whoever made it did a really good job of it!” he declared. Marchant made a mental note to let Aisha know, although she didn’t know how the little girl was going to react when she found out her handiwork had been undone.

  Orelia continued, “We made a gap, drawing the shadow monsters to it until we’d killed them all. It wasn’t very sporting, but there’s sporting, and then there’s making sure my men come out alive. Nothing a medic can do when it comes to shadow poison.”

  Roeglin stayed quiet, and Marsh followed his lead. She wasn’t sure why he hadn’t chosen to share that they might have found a way to deal with the poison, but he’d have his reasons.

  They’ll be more careful if they think they’re going to die.

  But they’ll fight more bravely if they know they have a chance

  So far we only have three who can do it. Two if you consider that we can’t use Lennie until her child is born, and only you have been able to remove the poison from a wound, although I’ll have to ask both Lennie and Aisha what they did with you. Until then, it’s better these men fight smart than die thinking someone’s going to save them when we can’t. Besides, you aren’t always going to be in this cavern.

  “What?”

  Shh.

  Marsh shushed but made another mental note to ask him what he meant when they didn’t need to focus on listening to a military report. Roeglin had no comment about that, so she settled down to listen to the rest of what Orelia had to say.

  He’d moved on from clearing the caverns of shadow monsters to tracking the raiders and their prisoners to the wall. Marsh listened as he again described Derschanel’s frustration with the stone, sitting up a little straighter when he moved on to what the shadow guards had done next.

  “I had your Master Finlay go over it, asking the shadows what they knew, but all he could get them to reveal was that there were two who opened the gate. One was the rock wizard, and the other some shadow mage. They worked together, combining their powers to part both shadow and stone. He said one of the prisoners tried to make a break for it, but he was grabbed and thrown through to show the rest it was safe. He said the mages were the last through, and the gate closed shortly after.”

  “Did you see what was on the other side?” Captain Guillemot asked the question to which Marsh most wanted the answer.

  Orelia shook his head.

  “No. Finlay said they couldn’t show him what they weren’t connected to, and couldn’t hold the memory of what they had touched once the connection was broken.”

  Marsh frowned. There had to be a way. If the shadows could hold the images of what was past, why couldn’t they hold the images of what was past when they didn’t touch the space anymore? They had already touched it, hadn’t they?

  What if the person asking them the question could open a gate to the…

  Roeglin touched her arm and Marsh blinked, coming out of her thoughts with a jolt and looking straight into Captain Gui
llemot’s curious eyes.

  “What were you thinking, Trainee?”

  “I was trying to work out why the shadows couldn’t hold the images of places they’d once touched but didn’t touch anymore. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Captain Orelia brushed her apology away with a wave of his hand.

  “You didn’t interrupt. I was done.”

  Marchant looked at Guillemot, but the captain relaxed back in his chair.

  “If you manage to work that one out, Trainee, make sure you pass it on.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Guillemot pushed back his chair and looked at Orelia.

  “Get some sleep when you’ve eaten. I’ll have you woken in enough time to join us if you wish.”

  Marsh was guessing that by “you” Guillemot meant Orelia and his men, most of whom had filed into the dining hall and been served. As if Guillemot’s words were a signal, one of his soldiers came over, balancing three meals in his hands.

  “I would appreciate that,” Orelia replied. “My men won’t keep you waiting.”

  It was as much an order as a promise. Marsh saw that the men seated nearest their table all wore the insignia of lieutenants and that they had all paused to listen to their captain’s reply. Even so, it wasn’t until he’d settled to his meal that they returned to theirs. Marsh followed suit as Guillemot left the room, pausing to speak with his stewards on the way.

  If she wasn’t much mistaken, the farm was going to be scrubbed to within an inch of its life before the troops left. She wondered what she would be doing, and Roeglin answered.

  You’re going to debrief me on exactly what you did to remove the poison from my wound, and then you’re going to try to show me how you did it. After that, we’re going to work on your communication skills.

  Her communication skills? Marsh wondered. What was wrong with those?

  24

  Forward Planning

  It was mid-afternoon by the time Monsieur Gravine’s escort arrived. Roeglin was able to warn Captain Guillemot in time for him to alert Captain Orelia and have both squads waiting by the time the escort arrived in the yard.