by Jayne Castel
Mira didn’t hesitate. She’d lost one of her blades when she attacked the enchanter earlier, but she still had more strapped to her body. She drew two swiftly and threw them hard at the man of Anthor.
Thud. Thud.
They embedded into his chest, and he let out a strangled wheeze, toppling forward. Clutching at the hilts of the blades, he slid down the roof. Before he disappeared over the edge, Mira caught a glimpse of the deep slash wound down his flank. It had sliced through his layers of toughened leather as if they were linen.
With a shriek, the princess slid down the roof after him. The building had a steep pitched-roof, and Ninia had lost her balance when her captor fell. Mira leaped forward, bruising her knees and grazing her hands, as she attempted to reach the princess in time.
Mira lunged over the gap between the two buildings and clung to the tiles. The gradient was frighteningly steep here—and just a few feet away, Ninia hung on by her fingers to the guttering. Her feet kicked as she tried to find a toe-hold. The street below, where a crowd now gathered around the fallen man of Anthor, was a long way down.
“Mira!” Ninia screamed. “Help me!”
Heart in her throat, Mira swiveled around. Then, the fingers of her right hand gripping onto the edge of the tiles, she reached down with her left arm. “Grab my hand,” she gasped.
A small hand, damp with sweat, fastened on hers. The muscles in Mira’s left arm screamed as she attempted to pull Ninia up. She felt herself slide farther down the roof, her fingers losing their hold on the tiles.
“Shit,” she grunted, digging her toes in. At this rate they’d both go over the edge.
“Pull me up,” the princess squealed.
“I’m trying.”
Yet she didn’t have a good enough hold on the roof to do so. Sweat slid down her back as she began a slow, inexorable slide toward the edge.
“I’ve got you.” A strong arm hooked around her chest and pulled her up short. “Grab hold of her with two hands.”
Mira released her death-grip on the roof and swung her right hand down, grasping Ninia’s slender wrist. Then she pulled. Moments later the princess scrambled up over the edge and collapsed on top of her guardian. Ninia clutched at Mira, tears streaking her young face.
Then she went still, her red-rimmed hazel eyes growing wide as she spied the man who still had his arm around Mira as he tethered the three of them to the side of the roof. “Who are you?”
Asher followed Mira and Ninia into the room. It was a good-sized space—much larger than his cramped attic. He cast his gaze over the scattering of possessions around him.
“It’s not safe to stay here,” he told Mira. “You'd better get packed.”
The Swallow’s full lips thinned. “Or what?” she challenged. “Will you put manacles on both of us this time and march us out of here?”
Asher met her eye.
What am I doing?
He should have let the pair of them fall off the roof. It would have made things simpler for him. Yet he hadn’t been able to. He’d acted on instinct and now regretted it.
“You need to come with me,” he answered. “Soldiers will be all over this place soon.”
“Where are you taking us?” Ninia asked. Her eyes were still swollen, her pretty face blotchy from crying, yet her expression was determined.
Asher observed her for a moment. He could kill her and Mira now. All he had to do was gather the Light.
I’ll do it later.
Time was against him now—he didn’t want to find himself bailed up by soldiers.
“My room is three walks away,” he replied. “Far enough to hide until things quieten down.”
The princess frowned. “Why should we go with you?”
“I told you … I’ve been sent to escort you both across the border to safety.”
“So why doesn’t Mira trust you?”
Asher glanced back over at where Mira had folded her arms across her chest. She was watching him coldly. “We got off to a rocky start earlier. She came at me with a knife … things got worse from there.”
“You were chasing me,” Mira reminded him.
“I was trying to speak to you,” he replied. “It’s not my fault you ran.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, before Mira looked away, shifting her gaze to Ninia. Her expression turned wary as she watched the girl. “That thing I saw you do on the roof … what was it?”
Ninia flushed. Watching her, Asher wondered how she would respond. He could sense the tension between the two females.
“I don’t know,” Ninia murmured.
Mira’s gaze narrowed, before she glanced over at Asher. “She gathered the Light, didn’t she?”
He nodded.
A nerve flickered in her jaw. “You knew … that’s why they sent an enchanter to find us, isn’t it?”
“Aye,” Asher replied. “Queen Rena told us in her message.”
Mira’s attention returned to Ninia. “Are you still going to lie to me?”
The princess’s jaw firmed, and she lifted her chin. “You didn’t need to know.”
Mira glowered at her. “How long … since you’ve known?”
“Around a year … we had to keep it secret. You know what father thinks of enchanters.”
Mira huffed, revealing that she shared the dead king’s views. Her mouth twisted. “And what are you planning to do with this … skill?”
“I want to train to be an enchanter.” The girl tore her gaze from Mira and fixed that sharp stare upon Asher. “I want you to teach me.”
He snorted. “Let’s just focus on getting out of here before it’s too late.”
His words roused Mira. She moved then, grabbed her pack, and started stuffing her things inside. “Come on,” she ordered Ninia gruffly. “Move.”
Asher waited, impatience seething within him as the women packed. He was relieved to see that they traveled lightly: just a pack each. They both wore travel-stained cloaks with fur-lined hoods, the kind of clothing that helped you blend into a crowd.
“Are you paid up?” Asher asked Mira. “Do we need to settle the bill before leaving?”
“No,” she replied. “It's all taken care of. Let's get out of here.”
The three of them left the room and descended the creaking wooden stairs.
13
The Right Time
ASHER LED MIRA and Ninia up to his attic room above the butchery, bolting the door behind them. Then he crossed to the shutters, opening them wide.
And as usual, Grim was waiting for him. The hawk hunched and lowered his head before emitting a loud screech. Asher turned to find Mira watching him, her eyes hard with distrust. “So you have a familiar?”
Asher shook his head. “Not really. Grim belonged to the former High Enchanter of my order. Since he died, this hawk won't leave me alone.” Asher glanced back at where Grim was peering at him. “Still, he has his uses.”
Mira dumped the armload of bedding she’d carried upstairs onto the wooden floor and looked around. “Cramped,” she observed, “but comfortable enough.” Her gaze then speared Asher once more. “This town is getting too dangerous … we need to leave tonight.”
Asher shrugged off his mantle and hung it up behind the door. He then glanced to the window, where the wind gusted in, bringing spots of rain with it. Above, the sky had turned leaden, and the faint rumble of thunder filtered in. “A storm’s coming,” he pointed out. “You don’t want to be out in that. We’ll leave tomorrow night.”
He watched the two women exchange glances. Mira pursed her lips. However, Ninia spoke up. “I think we should follow his lead … it’s too late to go with your plan anyway.”
Asher looked askance at Mira. “What plan was that?”
Mira took off her own cloak and hung it up next to Asher’s. Underneath she wore travel stained hunting leathers. Asher noted the way they clung to her curvaceous form. “It doesn’t matter now anyway,” she muttered. “There’s a merchant I
’ve been watching … I was going to steal his boat after dark.”
When Asher didn’t comment on her plan, Mira glanced back at him. Her expression turned icy when she saw he was smiling. “We don’t need your help, enchanter.”
Ninia cleared her throat. “He saved us both, Mira … I think you should be nicer to him.” The princess then raised her chin so she could look Asher squarely in the eye. “I didn’t thank you properly earlier … but I wish to now.”
Asher held her gaze. Unlike her guardian, Ninia of Thûn had manners. Asher’s smile faded. He wished she didn’t. He wanted to hate her; it would make this easier.
Do it now. A heckling voice whispered to him. This is your chance … take it.
Asher inhaled deeply and broke eye contact with the girl. He noted then that Grim was watching him, those beady eyes pitiless, condemning.
“Pie?” Asher held out a slice of cold mutton pie to the princess.
“Thanks.” Ninia offered him a half-smile and took it from him.
Idiot. The voice was back, an angry hiss in his head. You’re just making it harder on yourself. Kill them now.
The three of them sat on the floor of the attic and shared a simple supper washed down with some local cider. They ate in silence for a while, before Mira brushed the crumbs off her leathers and glanced over at Asher. “So, where’s that boat of yours?”
“Somewhere safe,” he replied, grateful to have a reprieve from his spiraling thoughts. He knew he was only putting off the inevitable, yet he couldn’t face ending these women’s lives now.
Later … I’ll do it later.
Outside, as predicted, the weather had worsened. Grim now perched on the ledge inside the window, and Asher had pulled the shutters closed. The wind rattled the shutters, and hail clattered against them, thundering too upon the slate roof above their heads.
“It’s not a night for traveling,” Asher told his companions. “The lake will have whipped itself up into a fury. We’d have capsized before we got a furlong from the shore.”
“How heavily fortified is the border?” Mira asked, bringing the subject back to their planned escape.
“Very. They’ve rebuilt the old leagueforts along it, along with high wooden palisades between them. The gates nearest the northern shore of the lake only open twice a day to let troops through.”
“So how did you get past them?” Ninia asked. The princess was watching him, her eyes bright.
“Enchantment. I waited until noon, and then I gathered the Light and cloaked myself so I could slip through undetected.”
Ninia leaned forward. “Can you do the same thing with us?”
“It’ll be difficult to cloak all three of us successfully,” he admitted, “but if we’re careful, and we time it right, we'll make it.”
The lie sounded sour on his tongue. Delaying the inevitable was one thing—but he couldn’t let these two cross the border. He’d have to kill them before they reached the leaguefort.
Ninia’s face was eager as she watched him. “I want to join the order when we get to The Royal City, but can you start training me on the way?”
Asher gave her a thin smile. “I doubt we’ll have time.”
The princess dismissed his excuse with an imperious wave. “Of course we will. We can start tonight … teach me how to cloak.”
Asher shook his head. That was the last thing he felt like doing right now. “We need bright sunlight for that.”
Ninia gave a frustrated huff. “Surely you can use the lantern light to teach me something?”
“Another time,” he hedged, before he fixed her with a level look. “I saw what you did to that man this afternoon. It takes skill to draw a light-blade.”
That threw her. Ninia grew still, her young features tightening. “I don’t know how I did it,” she replied, her voice subdued.
A few feet away, Mira gave a disgusted snort. “Liar.”
“It’s the truth,” Ninia insisted, flushing. “Ever since I developed these abilities, I can’t control them. They just flare when I have strong emotions. I don’t even know what a ‘light-blade’ is.”
“You do now,” Asher replied. He did have some sympathy for the girl, however. It had been the same for him years earlier when his abilities had begun to manifest.
“I found books in the royal library,” Ninia continued, “but none of them gave instructions into the art of enchantment. I know all about the order, yet I need training.”
“And you’ll get it in The Royal City,” Mira replied. “Stop nagging the man.”
Ninia favored Mira with a mutinous look. Nonetheless, she held her tongue. It was a brief reprieve though—Asher sensed she wasn’t going to let this matter drop.
“Tell me about the House of Light and Darkness in your city then,” the princess asked, climbing up onto the single bed against the wall. It seemed that Mira and Asher were expected to sleep on the floor tonight.
Asher sighed and leaned back, crossing his long legs at the ankles. He wasn’t in the mood to chat, but he was relieved Ninia had changed the subject for the moment. “What do you want to know?”
“How many enchanters are there?”
“Around fifty of us these days … we lost many in the north last year.”
“What happened up there?” Mira asked. “I’ve heard rumors here that there was a great battle between men and shadow creatures. Is that true?” For the first time she wasn’t glaring or scowling at him.
Asher observed her for a long moment; she had a striking, lovely face. “I fought in the Battle of the Shadefells,” he replied. “The Shade Brotherhood and the servants of the shadows came very close to freeing Valgarth.”
“But you prevailed in the end?”
“Aye … the sun shines once more does it not? The night is no longer haunted by shadow creatures.”
Mira watched him, her expression thoughtful. “We thought the end of the world was coming,” she admitted, “after all those long weeks of darkness.”
His mouth twisted. “It nearly did.”
As the evening stretched out the three of them lay down upon their respective mattresses; Ninia upon the bed, and Asher and Mira on the floor. The princess seemed to fall asleep immediately—in the way only the young with a clear conscience can—yet Asher couldn’t sleep.
He lay on his side, staring at the wall, his right hand clenched into a fist. His palm itched and burned, taunting him.
Do it. Now.
Damn him, why couldn’t he?
He’d read that message; he knew Ninia of Thûn had to die. But the longer he left it the harder it got.
She’s only fourteen years old. She believes I’m here to help her. Although Mira watched him as if he was a predator, Ninia trusted him already, believed he would train her.
Asher clenched his jaw. He strained his ears, listening for his companions’ breathing. Ninia’s was deep and even, but he couldn’t hear Mira’s. She was still awake; she was waiting for him to fall asleep, before she could let her guard down.
He didn’t blame her—she was Ninia’s protector after all. Yet he’d sensed an ambivalence to the woman, as if she barely suffered the princess’s company at times. Her expression had turned hard, her eyes like two shards of ice, when she’d learned that Ninia could gather the Light.
And that’s not all the girl’s capable of. Asher’s hand clenched once more. If you knew the truth about Ninia, you’d revile her.
Asher’s fist relaxed. It needed to be done, but tonight wasn’t the right time. To kill cleanly, he needed a strong light source—not the tender flame from that single lamp on the far side of the room. He wouldn’t make these two suffer any more than they needed to.
Rolling onto his back, Asher stared up at the low beams overhead. It was no good. He wouldn’t be able to sleep. His mind was churning, and his guts were in knots. He needed to find some space so he could sort out his thoughts and make a plan. He couldn’t do that in here, listening to these women breathe.
&n
bsp; Asher pushed aside his blankets and rose to his feet. He then cast a glance over to where Grim sat hunched on the window sill. The hawk would warn him if the women tried to leave while he was gone.
Where would they go anyway?
This town was now crawling with soldiers, especially after this afternoon. Mira wanted to rid herself of him, but without Asher they’d remain trapped here.
Pulling on his boots, he walked to the door, retrieved his cloak, and let himself out.
Mira lay her on back and stared up at the ceiling. She listened to the whisper of Ninia’s breathing as her slumber deepened. That girl never had any trouble sleeping, no matter what they’d been through.
Sleep was still far away for Mira though. She was too agitated, too tense—and too worried.
Ninia’s an enchanter.
The betrayal she’d felt upon learning the truth still pulsed through her. All these months together, and Ninia hadn’t confided in her. The queen had known too, yet she’d not bothered to warn Mira. They’d kept a dangerous secret. What would King Aron have done if he’d learned that his daughter had developed such abilities?
Mira’s lips compressed. It didn’t matter now anyway—the man was dead.
She should have paid more attention; if she’d known more about enchantment, she might have suspected something. Suddenly, details from the past few months made sense: the charred curtain that afternoon in Ninia’s chamber, and her insistence at lugging that book on enchantment everywhere with her. The girl had been practicing and studying in secret.
What am I doing here? She could get up now and leave Ninia with that enchanter. It would be hard getting out of town, but if she was on her own, she’d manage it. She wished she’d learned how to swim.
Aye, now that Asher had appointed himself Ninia’s protector, the girl didn’t need Mira’s help anymore.
Only, she does really …
Mira didn’t trust him. His smiles were too brittle, his expression too watchful, his gaze too cold. The man was holding something back. His words didn’t match his mood. He talked of taking them in his boat across the lake and then smuggling them across the border, yet he’d found it hard to meet Mira’s eye earlier that evening when she’d questioned him about it.
