by Amy Hopkins
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Bastian didn’t come in until dinner time, by which time Garrett had been roped into helping him fix the fallen fence around the garden. Bette re-shingled the roof of the chicken coop while Marcus watched on, and Julianne mucked out the long-abandoned horse stalls. When dusk fell and the temperature dropped, they tumbled inside with dirt on their clothes and smiles on their faces.
“Go on, straight to the basin with you. You’re not going to traipse that mud through my house, not over my dead body.” Despite Annie’s admonishments, Julianne could feel the relief emanating from her bones.
Instead of worrying about rats breeding in the stables or her chickens freezing in the winter, she’d gained a slight reprieve from the work that had been piling up. The vegetable garden was now weed-free and properly fenced off from roaming pigs, and had yielded a bounty of food carefully prepared for the evening meal.
“Annie, lass, this is the best feed I’ve had in a long time,” Garrett gushed through a mouthful of potato. He piled mushrooms on top of his fork and shoved another lump in his mouth.
“Yes, I suppose it would be,” Annie said. “On account of you being on the road and all.”
“Oh, it’s been years since I’ve eaten this well.” He licked a clump of beet sauce off his whiskers.
“Annie, really, it’s a beautiful meal,” Julianne said. Looking down at her plate she added, “Do you often cook for a horde like ours?”
Annie scowled. “If you have a question, girl, ask it.”
Julianne mentally gave the woman a point. “What happened to your sons? And the town—you said the New Dawn had been taking people. Can you tell us more?”
Glaring down at her plate, Annie stabbed a limp bean and held it up for scrutiny. “They came a few months ago, touting their status as Goddess-touched. Seemed like a fair claim, they certainly had magic—but no Goddess of mine would have sanctioned what they did with it.”
“And what was that?” Bastian asked.
“Used it like that opium syrup what ravaged Arsa a few decades back. They’d ask a small favor and when it was done, their eyes would glow white and the person they were talking to would fall back, like in a rapture. If the favor was declined, they’d instead walk away with a terrible itch on the mind. Not a real one, just a certainty that something wasn’t right, that they’d just done something terrible. Been on the end of that one more than once,” she admitted.
“They all had the same magic?” Julianne asked.
“A little.” Annie shrugged. She’d pushed her plate away a little as if she’d lost her appetite. “But mostly it was August, their leader. He was the one who was most gifted in that way.”
Julianne stifled a curse. August wasn't who she'd come to find. Still, he might know where Rogan was, if she could get to him. Either way, what he'd done to the village couldn't continue.
Bette tapped her fork on the plate. “So, the Dawn was using pleasure to make the villagers addicted to them? Sounds like something out of a children’s tale.”
“Ain’t no difference to me if you believe it,” Annie said.
“Oh, I wasn’t saying I didn’t. Just that it’d take a real twat to come up with something like that. Err, sorry, Annie.” Bette winced as she remembered Annie’s thoughts on cursing.
“Can’t argue with you there. Real twats. Yup, that’s about the sum of them.” She passed Bette a wink, which drew a crooked smile in response.
“You can’t be telling me they can control a whole town like that, can you?” Marcus sat upright, carefully still to avoid aggravating his wound. Somehow, he still looked ready to leap into battle and strike down the villains who’d taken Annie’s sons.
Annie hefted a sigh. “Sounds crazy, I know. But once a person gets to liking the rewards, that’s it. Those who tended to the drink and the smoke went first, and a few of the mothers who enjoyed a particular herb tea a little too much. Old Weyland was an early convert, after they fixed his joints.”
“Fixed them how?” Bastian asked.
“Well, he says they don’t hurt no more. They’re still as lumpy and chapped as ever, but he does say he can’t feel the pain no more.”
“Mind trick,” Bastian muttered.
Annie darted her eyes up. “You mean he’s not healed? He just thinks he can’t feel it?”
Bastian nodded, and Annie collapsed in on herself, just the smallest bit.
“Why, Annie?” Julianne prodded gently.
“Max, my son. He has a wife, a pretty thing if she ain’t too bright. Susie… well, she had a lump in the back of her throat. We all know how those things tend to end up. Wouldn’t get it cut out, said she’d never, even if we dragged her to a surgeon kicking and screaming.” Annie shook her head, mouth tight. “Anyway, not too long ago, Susie came running home, said those Dawn folk had fixed it. She couldn’t feel the lump no more, and the pain she’d had was gone. She opened her mouth to show and… well, I thought it was just my old eyes couldn't see any different.”
“That’s when your wee Max joined them?” Bette twisted her mouth as if she’d bitten into something sour. “All for a bloody trick. Annie, no matter what these people say, there’s no such thing as healing magic.”
“Well that’s a bloody lie,” Garrett exclaimed. “Hannah can heal! And them druids, too. What, ye didn’t hear the stories?”
Annie perked up at his words, but Julianne raised a hand to ward off his claims. “Hannah is a special case. The druids can heal, yes, but they can't play with minds like a mystic.”
“I don't know this Hannah girl, or what a druid is, but I'm reading your words to say there ain't much chance our Susie is really better.”
Julianne nodded, her face grave.
“It’s alright.” Annie speared another vegetable, looked at it, then put it back on her plate and pushed it away. “I thought as much when it happened. Bess always had an eye for that kind of thing.” Annie calmly took a swallow of water.
“Bess?” Julianne asked.
“My cat. She took a fancy to Susie, but when she got sick, that cat was the first to know. Went and sat on her lap and never left her side after, even when she said she’d been cured.” Annie abruptly stood and began to clear the table.
Garrett and Bette jumped up to help, snatching plates away from each other in an effort to carry the most. Julianne stretched and yawned. “Bette,” she called. “I made a plate for Danil. Could you pop it in the cold room so it’s there for him later?”
“No, don’t.” Julianne swung around to see Danil behind her, his eyes white as he walked confidently into the room.
“Danil! I didn’t know you’d woken.” Julianne felt her muscles sag with relief at seeing his magic had returned.
“Just in time for you to go to bed,” he replied.
“No, I’m fine—”
“Don’t be a fool, Jules.” Danil grinned to soften the sting of his words. “Everyone in this room is trying to think of a way to tell you how awful you look. Go on; you get to bed. I won’t let you sleep too late, I’ve already missed too much.”
Julianne stopped on her way past to wrap her arms around him. “I’m glad you’re ok,” she murmured.
“Except for the pit in my stomach.” He laughed as it let out a growl. “Where’s that food?”
Julianne left Danil to the care of the others and traipsed upstairs to bed. The bags were in the doorway of the larger room where she’d left them, and the fresh sheets smelled of lavender.
She untied her set laces, then gave up and collapsed onto the mattress fully dressed. By the time she’d dragged the blankets over her shoulders, she was fast asleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
When she cracked an eye open the next morning to find sunlight streaming through the window, Julianne was surprised to find her mind loose and relaxed. The days of riding, coupled with the stress of the mission and later, her run in with the remnant, had left her with a near permanent headache and a band of tightness that ran
from the base of her skull down her back.
She stretched and sighed peacefully, unwilling to leave the warm blankets. Noises downstairs suggested everyone was up, so eventually Julianne rolled out of bed and stripped off her wrinkled clothes and dressed in clean ones. Bette’s bag had been moved and lay open, but Julianne had slept so soundly, she’d never noticed the rearick come to the bed they’d agreed to share.
She stepped out into the upstairs hall and almost ran into Garrett, who was carrying a folded set of sheets into the room the men had shared.
“Oh look, it’s sleeping beauty.” He grinned and she swatted him.
“Why didn’t someone wake me?” she asked.
“Danil’s fault, not mine. Though he did try to lay a wager that at least one person would feel the back of yer hand for it.”
“I hope you didn’t bet against him then,” she shot back.
“Do I look like a fool?” He peeked at her over the pile of linen, his short beard pressing down on top of it to keep it from toppling. Julianne didn’t answer, just raised an eyebrow. “Aye, well, blame me mam for that. And a night on the couch. Your Danil might have to take it tomorrow night if he doesn’t reign in that cheek of his.”
“He’s not my Danil,” Julianne retorted and rolled her eyes at the rearick. Downstairs, the table had already been laid with plates of bacon, beans and bread, and a big jar of honey was being passed around.
“Good morning. Annie, I’m sorry I overslept.”
“It’s of no matter to me; I’m not your keeper. The chores have been done for the day, and I appreciate the help of your friends. I suppose you’re going into town later?”
Marcus choked on his bread. “You mean towards the psychotic cult that brainwashes everyone in their path? I don’t think so.”
Annie raised an eyebrow. “Ain’t nobody ask questions like you all did yesterday unless you’re planning to go into the jaws of the mountain cat.”
Julianne cut off Marcus’s protest. “That’s exactly what I intend to do,” she said. “Will you help us? With information, I mean.”
Annie nodded. “Seems like if anyone’s going to sort this mess out, it’d best be done sooner than later. That’s the last of the bacon I stored over winter, and I don’t like being without.”
“Jules,” Danil said, hurriedly swallowing a large mouthful of bread. “There’s something else. I was talking to Annie late last night, and it seems Artemis has passed through here.”
Julianne almost choked. “Really? You saw him?”
“Yes.” Annie dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Crazy as he was, he seemed to have a good heart. Well, most of one anyway. Not real useful around a farm, though.”
“Do you know where he went?” Julianne held her breath. If he was near, was it worth risking a trip into the town?
Annie regarded her shrewdly. “What’s your plan?”
Julianne turned to look at the old woman in the eye. “To destroy the New Dawn. If they’ve really taken people as slaves, they need to be held accountable. I will bring that reckoning if no one else can, or will.” She waited for the words to sink in before continuing. “I don’t know if I can do it alone, though. My strength relies on mind magic, and the New Dawn have found a way to block it somehow. I think—I hope—Artemis knows how to defeat them.”
“And why would he know that?” Annie’s voice held an edge to it. Julianne debated lying to the woman, but knew her conscience wouldn’t allow it.
“Because I think he taught them to do it.” Annie slumped as if knowing the words were coming. “Annie, I don’t know Artemis, but I know people who do. They all tell me he’s a good person, that he wouldn’t hurt a fly. They also said he can be easily distracted, and that he didn’t really understand people.”
Annie nodded. “Sounds about right. I never suspected the man of doing us wrong on purpose, but he’s a few loaves short of a bread basket, that one. He and little Lilly are the same. Odd, but still good people.” Annie’s face creased with sadness. “I hope he took the girl with him. Goddess knows she’d be safer off in the hills.”
With some prodding, Annie explained that Lilly was one of the village children. She was touched by the Goddess and had the skill to talk to animals and trees, but it had apparently addled her brain.
“They apprenticed her to me for a time, on account of my talent with the growing things,” she explained. “Girl was beyond me, though. Where I can tend a garden and make it flourish, Lilly had the gift of beast talking. Even the mountain cats would cuddle her like a doll, and the birds and squirrels followed her like a lady’s handmaidens.”
A druid? Danil sent to Julianne.
Perhaps. They both show signs of it, but neither have had teaching, so they won’t have all the skills. Ezekiel would be able to shed more light on it. Julianne sent the reply by reflex, then jolted upright, realizing what it meant.
“What is it, Jules?” Marcus asked from the other end of the table.
“Nothing. I just hadn’t noticed my magic was back.” She smiled self-consciously, wondering if her reaction had been that obvious, or if he’d been watching her.
“I think it makes sense to try find the old man first,” Marcus said, looking to Garrett for support.
“And if we canna find him, or he canna help?” the rearick asked. “Or if we scout the town, and realize the help he gave isn’t the sort we needed?”
Julianne leapt on his words. “That’s right. If we scout the town today, we’ll at least have an idea of what we’re up against. They might be able to block our magic, but we can block them, too. The attacks they’ve led don’t seem stronger than usual, it's just those bi—those damned shields. We’ll be safe, as long as we stay hidden and shielded.”
Marcus narrowed his eyes as Garrett frowned. “Lass, yer skating on thin ice here. Ye know we can’t shield, but ye also know we’re contracted to keep ye safe.”
“Perfect, then.” Julianne smiled widely. “Because following us into town would be incredibly dangerous, for you and for us. Looks like it’s settled: Bastian, Danil, and I will scout the town while the three of you stay back and help Annie. Well, except you, Marcus. You should rest.”
Marcus looked absolutely apoplectic at that. Before his frustration could bubble over, Julianne sent him a wave of calmness.
“I might not have magic, but I can tell what you’re doing,” he snapped.
“Good,” Julianne replied. “Because I wasn’t trying to hide it. You’ll need to pay the same attention if we end up taking this fight into town as a group.” She stood, gathered her plates, and left the room.
As she filled the kitchen sink with water from the heavy kettle, Annie came in. She waited until Julianne was done, then cleared her throat. She twisted her apron in her hands, an uncharacteristically nervous sign.
“I just wanted to say thank you. I don’t know what brought you all to these parts, but it sounds like you’re at least going to try save my people. It’s not much, this little village is on the edge of madness, but it’s all I got.”
Julianne took the old woman’s hand. “I will do my very best, Annie. I’d like to ask for your help, though.”
Within a few minutes, Julianne had delved through Annie’s mind. She’d learned the layout of the town, the streets, the people who lived there.
She knew the farms and the buildings, the stream that cut through the center, and the shortcuts and secrets only someone who’d spent a whole life here could possibly know. She learned the faces of Annie’s sons, her daughter-in-law and little Lilly, too, and left with a promise to let Annie know if she passed them on their scouting trip.
Leaving the old woman to regather her composure, Julianne went to find Danil and Bastian. The two had donned their traditional mystic robes and were pulling on their boots. “We leave soon. Bastian, can you see if there was any bread left over from breakfast? This will take us most of the day, and I don’t want any mistakes made out of hunger or fatigue.”
Once Bastian ha
d left, Danil jumped in before Julianne could speak. “Are you sure we’re ready for this?”
Julianne shook her head. “No, but I don’t think waiting will make us any readier. It could make things worse, though. What if the New Dawn realize we’re here, and why? I want this fight to be on our terms. Not theirs.”
Danil nodded. “I’m not against the idea. Just making sure you’re sure.”
“Have I ever started something I wasn’t prepared to follow through with?”
Danil pushed an image to her, of Julianne sitting close to Marcus back at camp in the Madlands. She’d been checking on his wound. Julianne watched her own silhouette as she lifted her face perilously close to Marcus’s, her eyelashes lowered. When she looked at it from this perspective, it was downright seductive.
“Why, Julianne. That shade of red suits you awfully well,” Danil teased.
Julianne had, indeed, flushed a vibrant shade of red. “Glad to see you’re on board with the plan,” she said haughtily and flounced past him. Deep down, she was glad. If Danil could joke about her feelings for Marcus, it meant he didn’t hold it against her.
She almost tripped a step. Wait. Did I just admit I have feelings for him? Glad she’d been shielding Danil from her thoughts, Julianne held her head high and walked out to the stables.
Cloud Dancer nickered and nuzzled her hand. The friendly gesture made Julianne wonder if, just maybe, Bette had been right. “Sorry, girl,” Julianne said. “We’re going on foot today. Have to keep a low profile.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
I’m ready, Bastian sent. Unless you need me to bring anything else?
A quick flurry of images accompanied the message, showing a couple of bread hunks wrapped in cloth and a skein of water. Julianne paled as the final image, of Bastian slipping the weapon Marcus had gifted him into his belt, crossed her vision.
