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

  “Captains,” Gustav began. If he was surprised to see Orelia and his men, he did not show it. “I apologize for the delay. We were needed.”

  He did not expand on that, and the captains did not ask.

  Instead, Guillemot replied, “Can I offer you and your men refreshment?”

  Gustav shook his head.

  “Thank you, Captain, but we need to return as quickly as we can. Monsieur Gravine’s orders.” He glanced at Orelia. “And he will be most anxious to hear Captain Orelia’s report. I apologize for the hurry.”

  Oh, he did, did he? Because from where Marsh was sitting, he didn’t look either very sorry or anywhere near apologetic.

  Roeglin nudged her in the ribs.

  It’s a formality. He no more expected hospitality than Guillemot expected to give it, although Guillemot was ready to if it was needed. Everyone knows the cavern founder needs us back. Madame Monetti’s assassination was unexpected, and now we have no way of knowing what’s coming next.

  We need to close the connection to Leon’s Deep.

  “Is this a private conversation or can anyone join in?”

  Both Roeglin and Marchant started, coming back to the present to see one of the lieutenants standing two steps away from them. Marsh blushed, glad that Roeglin was the one who had to answer.

  “Sorry, Lieutenant. We didn’t want to interrupt the captains.”

  “They are waiting. Captain Moldrane brought extra mounts. If you’ll follow me.”

  They followed, Marsh feeling properly chastened and Roeglin showing no sign of embarrassment. If Marsh hadn’t known any better, she would have said Roeglin considered the lieutenant’s behavior normal. In fact, she didn’t know any better, so maybe it was.

  Shortly afterward, he had them settled toward the front of the formation, although being placed slightly behind and to Gustav’s right was a little unexpected. Once they were in place, Gustav wasted no time in explaining why they had been situated where they were.

  “Master Leger, I need your trainee’s ability to sense life and your ability to communicate with the founder if we run into trouble.”

  They had over forty men behind them. What could possibly cause them trouble?

  Gustav answered that question as well.

  “The joffra are stirring earlier each cycle, and there are many more of them.” He glanced at Marsh. “Ask the hoshkat to stay close.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Marsh sought the connection she had with Mordan and impressed on the kat her wish for the big animal to travel close. She pictured hordes of joffra and a sense of concern for the kat’s safety, as well as respect for Mordan’s ability to take care of herself.

  The kat rumbled a low complaint, but she stepped out of the shrooms closest to the road and came to stand beside Marsh’s mule. The animal snorted and sidled, but Marsh laid a hand on its neck and sent it a sense of calm, telling it that Mordan was not a threat but a source of protection. Roeglin let out a low whistle of appreciation as the animal settled beneath her.

  “You’re getting good at that,” he said, and Marsh realized what she’d done.

  Up until that point, she hadn’t known she could speak to mules and she hadn’t really tried. She shrugged.

  “Thanks,” she replied, sounding anything but thankful.

  “Trainee, we will begin when you’re ready.” Gustav’s voice commanded her attention and Marsh looked at him.

  Taking a breath, she focused on the cavern around them, concentrating on her desire to see the lives sharing the dark around them. She started with the column she was part of, then slowly expanded her awareness, thinking of herself like a stone dropped in the center of a pool, her consciousness radiating outwards.

  “Hold on,” Roeglin told her, and Marsh paid enough attention to keep a grip on her reins and move her hands to the pommel of the saddle.

  She shifted as the mule moved forward, but she held her focus. The captain was relying on her to see any joffra and warn them before a hunting pack could swarm them, or to see any shadow raiders or monsters in enough time to reach shelter or prepare. She could do that.

  The journey became timeless, as the mule moved steadily forward and Marsh focused on the living factors of the world around them. She gradually felt less like a stone dropped in the center of a pool and more like a fish being dragged through a lake at the end of a lure, except they weren’t trying to attract anything.

  They did succeed in gaining the attention of two packs of joffra by the time they reached the gates to Monsieur Gravine’s mansion, but neither pack was large enough to take on the double squad of men and beasts. Not alone, and they hadn’t noticed each other, yet. If they had, and if they decided to team up…

  “We need to hurry.”

  Marsh was relieved to hear Roeglin’s voice give Gustav warning. It meant she could focus on keeping watch for…

  “There’s a third pack of joffra coming in.”

  Again Roeglin plucked the images from her head, although when he’d gotten so adept at reading the map of life signs, she didn’t know. Deciding to ask him later, Marsh kept watch on the three joffra packs and looked for any more. The image faded as the mule was led through the gates of the recently completed barbican leading to the stable yard. She lost the image completely when the gates closed behind them.

  Marsh let the images go and opened her eyes. Her fingers were still curled around the pommel, and Roeglin had clipped a lead to the chin strap of her mule’s bridle. He glanced at her as she drew a sharp breath and looked around.

  “When did this happen?” she asked, inspecting the stone walls and ceiling encasing them.

  Roeglin glanced at the walls before answering.

  “Rock wizards finished it two days ago. The shadow monastery is a good place for the troops’ families, but the founder decided he needed somewhere safe for the troops themselves to live and train in. Took them four day-cycles, and that was with the masons finishing things off. We can house around a thousand now.”

  A thousand? Were there even that many people living in the cavern?

  The question must have shown on her face because Roeglin gave her a fleeting smile.

  “Founder figures on rounding up two thousand soldiers by the time we’ve been through the closest caverns, but that’s only if we get to folk before the raiders do. We’ve already lost most of those in Leon’s Deep, and a hundred more from the farthest farms. We need to seal this cavern, save for the road to Kerrenin’s Ledge and Ariella’s. When those are safe to travel again, we can slowly open things back up. Let folk go home as we secure their caverns and can protect them.”

  It was a nice thought, but Marsh wondered when they’d reach that point…and if they ever would. She was tired, like she’d run all the way from the farm to the mansion. The enormity of what they were facing dragged at her spirit, and the loss of the prisoners she’d been traveling with pounded her soul. All she wanted to do was curl up in a corner and weep.

  And she couldn’t; she had to find Patrik and tell him… What? she wondered. That we didn’t get to his sons in time? That we saved him, but his kids are gone?

  For a moment, she was grateful that Fabrice had rescued the three she had, but the loss of the others when they’d been so close to being safe tore at her. How…

  “You’re not telling him anything,” Roeglin said, his voice cutting through her thoughts. “That news is for others to break.”

  “But I promised,” Marsh protested, and Gustav turned in his saddle to look at her.

  “Your master makes a good point.” He indicated the men ahead of her. “The captains will break the news, and Captain Orelia’s men will spend time with the parents to talk to them and calm them down. It will give you, the founder, and your master time to work out how you’re going to go about getting them back.”

  “I will find them,” Marsh told him, flinching at the stubborn edge to her tone.

  She sounded like Aisha at her most difficult.


  Roeglin snorted and reached over to lay his hand on her knee.

  “We’ll find them,” he corrected. “Together. The two of us and whatever team we’re assigned. Okay?”

  Marsh nodded, not trusting her voice. They would find them, wherever they had been taken, whatever situation they were in. She drew a deep breath, feeling the tiredness of using magic for too long trying to roll her under.

  “Stick around,” Roeglin ordered. “We’ve got to see Monsieur Gravine before you can flake out on me, and tomorrow, you and I will be speaking to the Master of Shadows about your traineeship.”

  Marsh felt her heart sink at his words.

  “Have I done something wrong?”

  “No, but there are matters we need to discuss. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  They rode forward with the rest of the troops and worked to settle their mules into their stalls before Roeglin offered Marsh his arm.

  “You ready?”

  “When you are,” she replied, taking his arm and leaning on him a lot more than she wanted to.

  Sure, she could have insisted on making her own way up, but that would have meant weaving across the stable yards like a drunk and probably falling up the stairs rather than making it to the top.

  “You’re not that bad,” Roeglin protested.

  “Want to let go of my arm and see?” Marsh challenged, and was relieved when he didn’t take her up on it.

  “I’m not that mean.”

  Marsh thought really hard about how to respond to that, but in the end, she decided not to say anything. She really didn’t want to end up on her ass on the floor.

  “I’ve asked Brigitte to bring cookies and chocolate,” Roeglin told her as he raised his hand to knock on Monsieur Gravine’s office door.

  “Oh, good.” Before Marsh could say anything more, Monsieur Gravine’s voice boomed out from beyond the door.

  “Come.”

  He was standing behind his desk, and he was not alone. Brigitte had already arrived, and a tray of cookies and a decanter of chocolate awaited. Marsh noted there were cups for all of them and enough cookies that even Aisha would have been sated. Well, maybe.

  “Sit,” the cavern founder ordered, lifting the plate of cookies, and holding it out. “Eat.”

  Surely she didn’t look that bad?

  “Eat,” Roeglin agreed, “and don’t think with your mouth full.”

  What? But Marsh didn’t argue, snagging a second cookie before Monsieur Gravine set the plate back on the desk. He surprised her by tossing her another one while she wolfed down the two she had in record time. She was relieved when the dragging fatigue faded enough that she didn’t feel like she was about to fall asleep in her chair. Having finished the third cookie, Marsh was contemplating a fourth when Brigitte handed her a large mug of chocolate.

  Monsieur Gravine watched the whole procedure with a bemused look on his face.

  “Is it always like this when magic is used?” he asked, and it was Roeglin who answered.

  “It depends on the wielder and the magic they use. Some find certain forms of magic more draining than others. Marchant’s strength lies in shadow magic, so she finds some of the nature magic more difficult to wield. Not to be rude, Monsieur, but it would be better for her to give her report quickly.”

  “Or what?” Monsieur Gravine looked mildly alarmed.

  “Or she’ll fall asleep where she sits.”

  Marsh blushed to the tips of her ears and did her best to keep a neutral expression on her face. Roeglin was only stating things as they were, even if she wished he hadn’t been quite so candid.

  He’s working with mages on a daily basis, Roeglin told her. It is best if he knows how to look after them. You are merely providing a very apt training aid.

  Well, if he put it that way… Marsh closed her eyes.

  Don’t you dare!

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Marsh replied, but her words were slurred, and she had to force herself to sit upright and her eyes to open. Catching Roeglin’s eye, she looked toward the waiting founder and added, “I’d better begin.”

  It took her the better part of an hour, another dozen cookies, and a carafe of hot chocolate to get through her report. Her voice caught when she described how Ardhur had imprisoned her in the rock and Roeglin stiffened beside her, even though he’d heard it that morning. Monsieur Gravine looked both intrigued and horrified.

  “And you could not get out?” he asked—a little too eagerly for Marsh’s taste.

  “No, Monsieur, although it is something my master has suggested I work on.”

  A look of mild disappointment crept onto Monsieur Gravine’s face.

  “I have a theory,” Marsh told him, “but I don’t know if it will work, and my master can’t say what the chances for success are either.”

  “Let me know how you do,” Monsieur Gravine told them. “It would be good to have a way of containing shadow-mage raiders until we can question them. At the moment, it is more expedient to terminate them.”

  Terminate…before they’d had time to question them. Marsh was both relieved and appalled. On the one hand, the raider didn’t have time to change sides, but on the other, he had no time to feed them false information or escape to do them harm, either. She sighed. There were times when she wished she lived in a better world.

  You and me both, Roeglin said, but we can work toward it.

  “Hey,” he said out loud, laying the palm of his hand on her shoulder and giving her a gentle push that rocked her in her seat. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

  “What is it?” Monsieur Gravine sounded alarmed, and Marsh resisted the urge to give a single bitter laugh. After all, it was his fault. Somewhere between facing the reality and comparing it to…to how she’d like things to be, fatigue-driven tears had welled up and were running down her face.

  Of all the stupid…

  She sniffed and dashed them from her face.

  “It’s nothing. It’s stupid. I’m sorry.”

  The founder’s face became grave.

  “Marchant Leclerc, it is never stupid to grieve the unnecessary loss of life no matter what that life has been used for so far, but thank you for understanding. One day, we will be able to give people the chance to choose a better path. Right now, we cannot afford the risk of losing what will be lost if they choose otherwise.”

  Marsh nodded.

  “Exactly.”

  This time, she was relieved to discover that the tears did not renew—but the founder had not finished.

  “Your time as my emissary to the Master of Shadows is over, and I need you to think about the role you will play next. There will always be a place for you with my Protectors, but I feel you and your master might be better used.”

  He turned to Brigitte.

  “And you, Journeyman… Even with your responsibilities, I will be asking if you and the children can stay on a while longer. The girl can hone her stone-shaping skills with the rock wizards and masons, and the boy can further his studies with both you and Master Envermet.” He glanced at Roeglin. “With your master’s permission, of course.”

  Marsh caught the look Roeglin exchanged with Brigitte and the brief dip of her chin as the journeyman agreed.

  Roeglin turned to Monsieur Gravine. “I agree to these arrangements for my journeyman,” he answered, “pending the Master of Shadow’s approval.”

  He made a point of looking at Marsh before turning his gaze back to the founder.

  “I believe you wish contact to be made with Kerrenin’s Ledge?”

  “Yes, although I was going to attempt to reach Ariella’s Grotto first.”

  Roeglin shook his head.

  “If you will forgive me, I think we need to ensure our path to the surface world is kept open.” He drew a breath. “And to ensure the people living at its end remain our allies.”

  He stopped and waited, not taking his eyes from the founder’s face. Marsh mirrored him. Monsieur Gravine considered wh
at Roeglin had said, his eyes taking on a faraway look while he thought. Finally, he looked directly at the shadow mage, sweeping his gaze over Brigitte and Marsh as he did so.

  “Agreed. You will be my emissaries to the Council of Kerrenin’s Ledge. Tell them what is happening in the World Below, and ask them if they will work with us to secure the trade route. The Deeps know they need us as much as we need them.”

  For a moment, Marsh had her doubts about that, but as she thought about it, she realized it was true: the Ledge did need the Hall, since most of its food supplies came that way. Trade from the surface was sporadic at best and had been almost non-existent since she was small. Since, if she thought about it, her parents’ waystation had been cleared of all human life. It gave her pause, and then the realization hit her. Sixteen years ago… The raiders had been working at isolating the Four Settlements for at least sixteen years.

  That spoke of… She wasn’t sure what it spoke of, but it was devious and sinister enough to send a shudder down her spine.

  Indeed, Roeglin said. Pay attention.

  Marsh sat up straighter and listened to what Monsieur Gravine was saying.

  “…of us can afford to be isolated. We need each other if we are to survive the times ahead. For that matter, we need each other if humanity is to survive. We cannot be four tiny communities forever. There are others out there. We can help those who are smaller than we are, and we can ally with those who are further along in rebuilding—but we can do nothing except fall if we try to stand alone.”

  As a speech, it was an insight into what had motivated the man into building an army—and a relief to know he didn’t intend to build an empire, but to join hands with others and stand beside them. She only hoped it remained that way.

  The founder sighed.

  “But you don’t need an old man to dream,” he added. “You need him to put his money where his mouth is, and that means you do, too.”

  He turned to Marsh.

  “You need to go to Kerrenin’s Ledge to see what records exist of the children’s family. I know you have promised to find their parents if you can, but in the meantime, we need to ensure they have a chance to know what family they have left.”