by Amy Hopkins
The horse let out a disapproving ‘harrumph’, but let Julianne pull herself up onto the saddle.
“She’s fine,” Mathias called back. “Just wishes you’d visit her more often when you’re not dragging her around the countryside.”
Julianne had to admit, she had barely ridden the horse since their arrival at Tahn. In a way, it was lucky—the mare she had taken to Muir on her first visit was still there, probably sold by the innkeeper when he realized she had been left behind.
“When we get back, I’ll give you some big, fat carrots,” Julianne said. Talking to the horse still made her roll her eyes a little, but the dappled pony had been on her best behavior since she had started doing it.
“Come on, we’re nearly home,” Marcus said.
They had stopped twice to rest the horses and themselves. Now, night was falling and the chilled air made Julianne wish for a soft bed and warm blankets.
“Marcus, I really think we should make that detour.”
He sighed. “I know. I was thinking the same thing.”
They were near the spot they had been accosted on the way to rescue Adeline.
“I smell smoke,” Jakob said. “But it’s not campfire smoke.”
Julianne sniffed the air. “You’re right.” The clean scent of woodsmoke mingled with cooked meat and a sickly sweet burnt smell. “I don’t feel anyone nearby.”
They turned the horses off the road and headed towards the smoke. It took them a half hour to find it.
“What is that stench?” Julianne asked, holding her sleeve over her nose.
“Smells like stale piss,” Marcus commented. He walked over and kicked a stack of soggy ration packs. “Tell you what, I wouldn’t be accepting a dinner invitation from these guys.”
“Do you think its remnant?” Adeline asked. Despite the filth scattered around, she curiously poked at things. “Wait… this is my brother George’s insignia.”
Julianne reached out to touch the girl’s shoulder. “I don’t know what happened here,” she said, honestly. “But George… is not in a good way. His mind is broken.”
Adeline snorted. “It’s not his mind; it’s his humanity that’s broken. I don’t know how Father spawned such a vile little shit, but he did.”
“Ah.” Julianne wished she could skim Adeline’s to see if she was just hiding her grief, but her shields were locked down again. She didn’t look worried, though.
“Don’t worry, mystic,” Jakob said quietly behind her. “Ade hated that little prick. She’ll spare no tears over his body when we find it.”
“There’s no blood here,” Marcus pointed out. “Looks like they were scared off, and the campsite trashed after. Unless they did this damage themselves, which makes even less sense.”
“Wait…” Julianne’s closed her white eyes, holding up a hand for silence. She needed to concentrate. “Someone’s out there. Jakob, would you come with me?”
Ignoring Marcus’s worried look, Julianne pushed past the brush and into the woods. Jakob followed close behind, hand aloft, holding a warm flame to light the way.
Julianne stopped a little way in, listening. She could hear it now. It sounded like sobbing.
“That’s not disturbing at all,” Jakob snorted.
They soon found the source of the noise. A man, his cotton shirt black with sticky, dried blood, leaned against a tree. “I didn’t—” he gasped between sobs. “I didn’t mean to let him die. Oh, please, let me die. Let me die,” he whimpered.
Julianne shook his shoulder gently. “What happened?” she asked. His mind was too fractured from grief and terror to see what had happened.
The man’s eyes opened wide. “Are you one of them?”
“One of who?” she asked.
“The spirits. The ones come to rip my soul open for the sins I’ve committed.” He suddenly jumped up, tearing at his shirt. “Here. Here it is. Go on, do it. Tear me apart; put me out of this misery.” When Julianne just stared, he dropped to his knees. “Please!”
She applied pressure to one of his mental pathways. He fell onto the ground and lay still.
Jakob took a step back. “Did you just—with your mind?”
“What?” Julianne asked, distracted. “Oh, don’t be silly. He’s not dead, just asleep.”
“Phew,” Jakob said as he tipped the unconscious man onto his back.
“No, killing him would drain me far too much.” Julianne kneeled down and pressed her hands to his temples, wincing slightly at the smell of old blood and vomit.
She tried to sort through his memories. Snippets floated by, and she touched them, looking for clues.
His lord… ahh, he served Adeline’s brother, she thought. He was in Tahn. Robbing someone. Sharne? Ghosts. He saw ghosts? Wait, that’s…
“Oh, for Bitch’s sake!” Julianne snapped. “I’m going to rip him a new asshole when I get home, then break his teeth. He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t end up a blind-mute!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jakob asked.
Julianne just shook her head. “Of all the dumb shit things to do, dragging those girls into this was the absolute worst!”
“I’m still lost,” Jakob complained. He hurried to catch up to Julianne, who was already storming through the trees back to the ruined campsite.
“Mathias, get my horse ready,” Julianne called as they approached. “Because if I go near her in this mood, she’ll bolt.”
“I think I’m going to bolt if your ears keep smoking like that,” he said, but jumped up to ready the horses.
It didn’t take long to circle back to the road, but Julianne had already cooled off by then. Not that she had forgiven Danil’s shenanigans—she had just moved from wanting to rip his head off to something a little more considered.
As her fury waned, so did her energy. By the time they reached the gates of Tahn, she was exhausted.
“Oh, who’s bloody there now?” Bette yelled down from the small lookout as they approached. When she saw who it was, she hurried down to open the gate. “People think it’s a bloody thoroughfare tonight.”
“I know,” Julianne said in a flat voice.
“Oh. Welcome back, anyway.” Bette ushered them through before closing up behind them.
“Jules, why don’t you stay in town tonight?” Marcus suggested.
The idea of skipping the long ride out to Annie’s was appealing, and would give her an upper hand in the morning, too. “Good idea,” she said, just before a yawn cracked her jaw.
“I’ll take Cloud for you,’ Mathias offered.
Julianne thanked him, then leaned into Marcus for support. “Carry me to bed?” she murmured, face against his chest.
“Really?” he asked, ready to scoop her up.
She shook her head and sighed. “Sadly, no. I need my bitch-boots on for this.”
“Your what boots?” he asked, confused.
“For stomping heads and kicking asses.” She had already given him a brief rundown of what she assumed had happened back at the camp.
She might not know all the details, but she had figured out that Danil and a couple of the girls from the theatre troupe had snuck in, using mental magic to scare the shit out of the soldiers.
Julianne hadn’t told anyone about Lord George’s son—that news would have to go to Adeline and her father, first.
She may not have seen the body, but Lawson’s memory of plucking out that little knife from his head told her all she needed to know. She recognized the weapon, and, being honest with herself, couldn’t blame its owner.
Polly had been George Junior’s preferred prostitute. He hadn’t been a gentle man, or a kind one. In fact, he was a complete dickbag. Julianne wondered again how that particular apple had fallen so far from the tree.
Pushing the door to Danil’s cottage open with one hand, she made a mental note to herself to get a lock installed. Not because she thought he could be broken into, but because sometimes, small towns fostered a sense of familiarity that
could border on distracting.
Danil would need privacy eventually, and if people could just walk on in… Julianne cocked her head at the sound of creaking wood. It wasn’t footsteps. Far too rhythmic for that.
When she reached out with her magic, her eyes nearly shot out of her head. Polly? She thought, thankful her shields had already been in place. If they hadn’t, she would have sent that thought straight to Danil by accident.
Chuckling softly, Julianne pried off her boots and dropped her robe on the table. It was too late to try and find another place to stay, and she sure as hell wasn’t walking to Annie’s at this hour.
Crawling into a spare bedroom and pulling musty sheets to her chin, she wondered just what she would do with her errant mystic friend.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Danil yawned and stretched, immediately sending out his magic to see if a pair of eyes was nearby.
When he found not one pair, but two, he almost dove back under the covers.
Don’t even bother, I know you’re awake, Julianne sent. Hurry up and get dressed. Polly and I are about to join the theatre crew for breakfast.
“That’s not good,” Danil muttered. He reached for his clothes and pulled them over his head. “She sounds way, way too calm.”
He headed downstairs, almost tripping over his pants in his sleep-soaked daze. Polly immediately averted her eyes.
“Good morning,” she said into her mug.
“Um. Hi.” He looked at the two women, Polly trying to avoid his gaze, Julianne giving him a blank stare. “Am I… in trouble?” he asked tentatively.
One of Julianne’s eyebrows twitched. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because you’re looking at me like you want to cut my nuts off and feed them to a dog.” He was well and truly in the shit, he could tell. But was it his fling with Polly—unlikely—or his escapade last night?
He embraced his favorite coping mechanism, denial. It had to the be Polly thing, not helped by the girl’s silence.
Through his magic, he could see the hot steam rising from Polly’s cup and occasionally Julianne’s furious glare as Polly flicked frequent glances at her. Nothing else. Julianne had him blocked out of her mind tighter than a virgin in a chastity belt.
“Look,” he pleaded. “Is this about Polly? Because I swear, I wasn’t taking advantage of her. I really like her!”
“Danil, apart from your newfound devotion to Polly, is there anything else you feel the need to tell me?”
Oh, shit. She knows. She knows everything. Danil felt a drop of sweat inch down his neck. “What? Oh, that. See, someone snuck into the town and attacked Sharne and her mother. So… we took care of it.”
“You… took care of it.” Julianne stood, then gave him a bright smile. “Thank you, Danil, for looking after the town so pro-actively. I’m glad you made sure none of the townspeople or our guests were endangered.”
He balked at that. Her smile is too bright. She should be yelling at me for taking the girls. Hell, she should be yelling at me for not keeping an eye on Bastian, too.
Wondering what kind of torture awaited him, he slowly gathered his things. “So… should we go?”
“I can’t wait,” Julianne said. Her grin was genuine this time.
Polly stood. “I… just can’t,” she whimpered, voice choked. She ran out the door, hands over her face.
Alarmed, Danil went to go after her but Julianne pulled him back. “She’s fine, I promise. Come on.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Danil muttered as he walked outside.
The small cottage he had taken over was right by the hall. At this time of morning, the streets were bustling, at least as much as a tiny farming town could bustle. Normally, the people of Tahn would rush about from job to job, used to the mystics that had come to live amongst them.
Today, however, they must have been excited about the return of the mystic master. As Danil navigated the short distance to the hall, he struggled to find a person looking where he needed to go, instead of looking at the two mystics.
Julianne lifted her head high, and the curious watchers suddenly remembered they had somewhere to go.
“Geez, Jules. They really missed you.”
“Did they?” Julianne’s eyes twinkled as she shouldered her way past a couple of burly performers.
“Good morning, ladies,” one said with a bow and a chuckle.
The other one shoved his friend. “Come on. Don’t be a tease. Maybe he just likes the breeze.”
Danil’s brain turned over the exchange as he tried to work out what they had meant. His face turned pink, then purple.
“Julianne?” he said through clenched teeth.
“Yes, Danil?” she answered sweetly.
“Am I wearing a dress?”
“Do you think you’re wearing a dress?”
He thought back to that morning, his detail-oriented mind going over what he had done.
Woke up. Pulled my clothes on. My clothes? Yes. Went downstairs. Tripped on my… Wait. My pants aren’t long enough to trip on. He slapped his face with a palm. “I didn’t trip on my pants this morning. I tripped on a Bitch-damned skirt, didn’t I?”
Grinning proudly, she nodded.
“Can I at least see what I’m wearing?” he begged.
Julianne gave him a skeptical look. “Are you sure you want to know?” she asked.
He nodded, and the patchwork of images he saw through the eyes of others blurred, then refocused. He swallowed.
“I—” voice squeaking, he cleared his throat. “I might just go home and change, then?” He looked at Julianne, beseeching.
She shrugged. “I’m not controlling you, Danil. If you want to go—”
He turned and ran, doing his best to cover himself back and front. The soft, see-through cloth of Polly’s costume from the night before last slipped beneath his touch, driving home the images he had seen.
Images of himself, walking around in a see-through dress, in broad daylight, in the middle of Tahn.
He tripped on the front and slammed into the door. It swung open and something soft enfolded him.
“Oh, Danil, that was just the funniest thing I’ve ever seen,” Polly breathed into his ear. Giggles overtook her again.
He pulled back, haughtily wrapping the blanket tighter. “You were in on it, weren’t you! I thought you were upset this morning. I thought you were crying!”
“I was,” she choked. “Crying with laughter!”
She couldn’t take her eyes off him and, through her, Danil could see what he looked like. Furious, proud, and altogether ridiculous.
He tried to maintain his composure, but it was ruined by a loud snort of suppressed giggles. Finally, he let it out.
Throwing off the blanket, he stuck a hip out. He beckoned to Polly seductively, and she screamed with laughter. Tumbling into his arms, she planted a kiss on his lips.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly as she melted into him.
“Don’t lie,” he said.
“Fine. I’m not sorry in the slightest. Still, I can make it up to you…” She ran a finger down his chest and looped it through one of the ribbons on the dress. “Tonight.”
She dropped the ribbon, turned, and walked out the door.
Danil ran to the window. “I’ll hold you to that!” he called.
When he finally turned up to breakfast, he was drowned in applause. Rather than shrink away, he played it up, bowing and tipping an imaginary hat.
“Thank you, thank you. Glad to have had the chance to make your stay enjoyable.” He winked at Julianne, then went to load up his plate.
“I never knew mystics were so… generously endowed,” Tansy said as she loaded his plate.
“Education is our prime objective, so I’m glad you learned an important lesson,” he replied.
She gave a pointed stare at his plate, and when he looked down, a fat pork sausage nestled between two tiny potatoes stared back. He nearly dropped it in shock.
He slid in next to Julianne. Before she could speak, he waved her down.
“I know what you’re going to say. I should have let that army be, and stayed home to focus on our defenses. And I definitely shouldn’t have taken three women for backup.”
“I’d stop now, before you end up naked on a roof somewhere,” Julianne said. “Or, I could let you explain to Bette what’s so wrong about taking a woman for backup?”
Danil groaned and dropped his head in his hands. “I can’t get it right, can I?”
“I’d have been satisfied with ’I should have stayed home, Julianne’.”
He peeked at her over one hand. “I should have stayed home, Julianne?”
“I’m glad you’ve learned a lesson. Do I need to have a similar talk with Bastian? I recognized his face in one of the memories I saw.”
Danil sighed. “No. As much as I’d like to share my pain, he’s already terrified enough of what you’ll do to him. When he finds out what you did to me, he’ll already be praying to the Bitch to spare him.”
Julianne speared a sausage and lifted it on her fork. She examined it, then snapped off a chunk with her teeth. “This is tasty,” she said.
Pointedly ignoring her, Danil broke open one of his potatoes and layered some butter on it. “So, how’d it go in Muir?”
Julianne’s answer was cut off by an eruption of cheers and whistles. She looked up to see Adeline standing at the door of the hall, hand in hand with her father.
Lord George beamed and stood straighter than Julianne had seen him in Tahn. He had left his cane at home and walked steadily, though he leaned on his daughter a little as they navigated the crowd of people that all wanted to speak to them.
Julianne lifted a hand and waved, but Adeline was too busy answering the million questions the troupe threw at her. She was clearly a favorite of all of them, but Julianne could see the lord’s daughter was still tired from the long ride.
Come sit with us, we’re down the back, she sent, glad to see that Adeline’s shields were up, but flexible enough to allow Julianne to mind-speak to her.
Adeline made a beeline for Julianne, tugging her father along behind her. Jakob appeared and whispered in her ear, and she nodded at something, holding up two fingers.
