The Waking Magic (Winter's Blight Book 3)

by M. C. Aquila

  As they continued, she became painfully aware of how loudly she and Kallista were walking. The others were almost as quiet as their scout; with little effort, they avoided drier leaves, twigs, and anything else that could create a notable sound in the woods.

  She tried to do the same, but with much of the ground being covered by leaves, she could never tell which steps would be loud and which ones would not. And Kallista, in boots that were a bit too large for her, was even worse.

  “Stop it,” the man in front of her snapped at the two of them after Kallista stumbled over a branch in the path. “Do you want to get us ambushed?”

  Deirdre bit back an angry remark, then looked down, brow knitting. As clouds thinned and the sky overhead grew lighter, her and Kallista’s shadows grew darker and more defined on the ground.

  I wonder… could magic help? She narrowed her eyes, reaching out for the shadows below; they immediately moved in response, rippling like water in a pond.

  Could you help? Deirdre asked them. We’re being noisy, and I don’t know what to do.

  Their shadows expanded somewhat, creeping up and around their shoes. As this happened, the sounds of their footsteps completely stopped.

  The magic wasn’t moving anything out of the way; Deirdre felt herself step on and snap a twig as they continued. But there was no sound at all.

  It’s absorbing the sound. She held back a happy laugh with a hand over her mouth. It’s just taking all the sound away! It can suck up light and sound—that’s amazing!

  As they went on for several more minutes, Deirdre held her head up, smiling, knowing they were now the quietest in the group. When Cai once stepped on a twig behind her, she turned and raised her eyebrows at him pointedly, not saying anything.

  “Nice trick you’ve got going, faery,” Cai whispered.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, still smiling. Especially because it’s not a trick. I just have the best magic in the world.

  The southern ridges were a long row of pale gray, sheer cliffs, about a fourth-mile high at the south edge of the woods. Deirdre and Kallista hung back with the soldiers in the woods as Singh, with Cai following, crawled forward with binoculars to peer over the ridge.

  Below was wild English countryside. There were few fields and no farmland; woods grew sometimes in small groves but mostly in sprawling messes, cut off only by roads and stone fences, both new and ancient. Here and there on the uneven horizon were dark gray buildings.

  But those sights paled in comparison to the large force of soldiers and armored vehicles approaching from the south along the widest and most ancient road. They were like a long, slow-moving dark snake coming up the countryside, slithering ever closer.

  It was more soldiers than Deirdre had ever seen in one place before; she broke into a cold sweat. Alan’s in there, somewhere. He’s coming to get me. She rubbed her arms. I wish Iain was here.

  She heard Kallista exhale beside her; she was also hugging herself, looking quite pale. But when she noticed Deirdre looking, she lowered her arms and raised her head.

  “Are you all right, Deirdre?” Kallista asked in a whisper.

  “Not really. But I will be, once we get out of here.”

  “You’re right. We’ll be fine.” The older woman looked at the approaching force, her expression set. “We have to be.”

  Cai and Singh crawled back over, not rising until they were in the trees with everyone else. Once they were back, Cai said, “They’re pretty slow, which is good.”

  “But they’ll be here within an hour.” Singh dusted his clothes off. “We don’t know if they’ll regroup before the attack, but if they do—if they want to launch a full attack to overwhelm us—we’ll have a bit more than an hour. Maybe two. Plus they’re not familiar with the area, and it’s easy to get lost in these woods. But we’re still short on time.”

  “Are we at all prepared for this?” one of the men asked, his gaze restlessly darting to and from the fields.

  Singh shook his head, stroking his beard. “I never thought they’d attack us, much less come out in full force. It’s like they’re going to war.” He hissed through his teeth, then gestured to them all. “Let’s return and begin evacuations. I’ll come up with a plan as we go.”

  As they began to leave, he spoke with Gunnar about sending him back out later with a small handful of other half-faeries to keep an eye on the army’s movements. Deirdre glanced back once at the river of soldiers slowly but steadily heading for them, for her. Her knees went weak, making her stumble, though her magic sucked up all the noise.

  Kallista supported her elbow, helping Deirdre regain her balance and whispering, “We’ll be fine. We’ll find my sons and leave immediately. We’ll be gone well before any of them arrive.”

  “Right.” Deirdre smiled at her. “You’re a lot like Iain.”

  She faltered slightly, though a small smile lit her eyes, warming her expression. “How do you mean?”

  “He’s just good at this—you know, being reassuring. I never would have guessed it though, when we first met.” Deirdre let out a small chuckle. “But now we’re friends, and he’s really dependable—”

  “Ramble about your boyfriend later,” Cai cut in. “And shush. We still don’t know if there are any scout forces sent out.”

  Deirdre rolled her eyes at boyfriend, her mind leaping to Alvey. If she heard Cai say that, she’d probably have a fit…

  “Halt!”

  The group froze; out of the trees ahead, a small cluster of armed soldiers was headed toward them. Cai swore under his breath.

  The soldiers noticed Singh and his men were armed and slowed their approach, raising their guns.

  “Weapons down, now, and hands behind your heads.”

  “Give us a break.” Singh grinned, not moving. “We’re just doing some hunting for the festival. Is that a crime?”

  “We don’t have time for this,” Cai muttered.

  “Weapons down, now.” The soldiers aimed. “Then you’re all coming with us.”

  “On my mark,” Singh whispered to his men.

  Suddenly Cai shoved Deirdre and Kallista forward onto the ground, Deirdre’s surprised yelp cut off by a faceful of leaves. He unsheathed his sword and tossed his scabbard at the cluster of soldiers, hitting them solidly.

  The soldier’s tight formation worked against them; a couple dodged, one being struck by the scabbard. Both bumped into the soldiers around them, who were pushed off-balance. Two soldiers still fired but aimed poorly. Cai rushed the closest to him, getting shot in the shoulder but barreling into him and shoving him down by driving his hilt into the man’s stomach and knocking the wind out of him.

  “Gunnar, go!” Singh ordered as his men began to shoot and charge. “Leave this to us!”

  A couple more shots rang out, one followed by a grunt of pain. Spitting out leaves, Deirdre looked up to see Singh and his men were now fighting close range with the soldiers, guns used as clubs. Cai sliced clean through one of the soldier’s guns, even though blood streamed from his shoulder.

  “Is he insane?” Kallista breathed, jerking down farther as another gunshot just grazed Cai’s arm, right before he brought the pommel of his sword down hard on the soldier’s neck.

  When Deirdre froze, staring, Kallista grabbed the girl’s arm and yanked her to her feet; they retreated behind a large oak tree, just as rain pattered down again.

  Gunnar had vanished into the woods, and the soldiers, a group of ten still standing, held their ground against Cai and Singh’s four men. And as one of Singh’s men got beaten down and another sustained a heavy blow to the head, it was clear who was winning.

  A couple of the enemy soldiers fell back a pace, raising their guns, aiming and waiting for a clear shot. One’s gaze passed over Deirdre and Kallista’s hiding spot; he aimed his rifle toward them.

  “We need to run.” Kallista’s grip was a vise around her arm.

  “But—” Deirdre’s protest went dry in h
er mouth as the soldier edged closer.

  We’ll get killed—Cai and those men will get killed!

  Deirdre pulled her arm out of Kallista’s grasp, placing her hands on the shadow of the large tree.

  If you can drain out light and sound, then do it to him! She urged the darkness. Now! Like you did with our footsteps!

  The shadows rushed forward noiselessly; the soldier didn’t notice even as they crept up his legs. Then he cried out as they rushed up onto his gun, flinging it away from him. But they billowed up like a sheet over his arms and then over his head. He staggered, alternately clawing at his face or waving his arms, struck blind and deaf.

  Yes! Deirdre’s gaze darted to the other soldier who had fallen back and was now aiming at Singh. Now him! Do the same to all of them!

  As quickly as if someone put a cap over a lantern, the enemies’ own shadows leaped up from the ground and wrapped around them. Singh and his men fell back, alarmed, then scattered as one soldier began to fire his gun blindly, accidentally killing one of his comrades.

  Deirdre’s mouth fell open; she and Kallista darted back behind the oak tree as one of the wayward bullets rocketed past them. Oh, no, no no—

  “Are you doing this?” Kallista grabbed Deirdre’s shoulder, eyes flashing. “Stop it! You’re making things worse!”

  For a moment Deirdre was about to agree with her and call her magic back. But then she shook her head, saying, “No. I can do this. We can do this!”

  “We?”

  Deirdre shut her eyes and reached through the shadows beneath her to the ones below the ground, touching the Earth Magic in the soil. Move, both of you; darkness, guide the earth to move beneath those soldiers and knock them down!

  She didn’t have to see it; she felt the shadows and ground beneath the enemy soldiers suddenly jerk hard, pulling back like a sudden rip current, throwing them off their feet.

  Now push those guns away!

  Stalagmites burst from the ground underneath the soldiers’ guns, sending them flying out of their reach.

  And stop them from moving. She opened her eyes, adding, But gently!

  Stepping around the tree, she watched as the earth smoothly curved up around the soldiers, linking and holding them down like a stone giant’s arms, tight enough so they couldn’t move but not tight enough to crush them.

  Breathing out, she reached out to the shadows, a small smile forming. You can go back.

  The darkness that covered the soldiers slipped away as if it had never been there. But when the soldiers began to shout and swear, she flicked a finger and whisked small shadows back over their mouths, blotting out the noise. It was so smooth and easy that she couldn’t help but giggle, then walked out toward the others with her head held high.

  Singh, his men, and Cai were staring, flabbergasted.

  “That could have been worse, I suppose,” Cai said as Deirdre reached him; he wasn’t smiling but was frowning less than usual.

  “Could have been worse? Ha!” She punched his arm playfully, laughing. “That was amazing! It was perfect! It was—” She spun around and finished in front of Kallista. “See, I told you. I told you we could do it!”

  “Yes, I suppose so.” She glanced at the soldiers, then back at Deirdre. “Who is we, exactly?”

  “Me and the magic, of course!”

  “Oh, of course. More magic.”

  Singh stepped over to them, eyes sharp on Deirdre. “You did this?” When she nodded, he pointed at the livid, bound soldiers. “You’ll need to remove those gags, at least for one of them. We need to question them. Quickly now!”

  Deirdre pumped her fist, unable to stop smiling. “Of course. That’ll be a picnic!”

  Cai raised an eyebrow at her, snorting. “I’ve never heard a faery say that before. What kind of faery are you?”

  “One who is getting the hang of this whole magic business”—she tossed her hair—“because she’s got the best magic there is!”

  Chapter Twenty

  Iain and James had weaved their way through the festival grounds, asking about their friend and being sent in the direction of the southeast border of the forest, citing that a ginger girl and Cai had headed in that direction with a handful of men. There were hushed, anxious murmurings of some of the festivalgoers in that area, and a grim silence had fallen over others as they pointed toward the forests.

  As James walked into the cool, damp forest down a winding and sloping deer trail, he saw the forest anew. There weren’t any blackthorn trees—just oak and elm and birch—but he wondered which plants and animals held magic to be manipulated and what secret powers the unassuming mushroom, patch of moss, or scavenged animal bones contained.

  Iain was right about the Iron Guard. When they saw the line of soldiers and trucks moving like ants on the distant road below, the brothers exchanged grim looks.

  Minutes later, gunshots exploded through the air in the distance. Iain grabbed his shoulder, but he did not need to shove James this time—he had learned from the chaos that broke out at the Iron Guard camp at the dwarf caves that gunshots meant down.

  The only sounds were of their own shallow breaths and James’s heart thudding in his ears. They were too far from whatever was going on to hear anything else besides sounds of gunfire.

  After a minute, Iain gestured for them to get up. As he rose on shaking legs, James asked, breathless, “Do you think Deirdre’s—?”

  Before he even got the phrase out, Iain tensed up, whispered something to himself, and then produced his axe from his pack. The brothers rushed forward without another thought across the rocky terrain, through the trees and toward the area where the shots had come from.

  They did not get far before they were caught.

  “Looks like you missed all the action,” a gruff and familiar voice said to their left. Cai was standing there with his arms folded, and there was a fresh wound on his shoulder. Then he gestured for them to follow, holding up a finger when James opened his mouth to ask questions.

  Scowling, James lagged behind while his brother jogged to catch up with Cai’s pace, falling in line beside him. Every time his brother looked at the man, it was like he saw gleaming armor where there was actually grime and dirt.

  “You’re injured,” Iain pointed out. “I could take a look at—”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Is everyone—?”

  “Oh, the faery girl is fine. Don’t you worry.”

  Iain just scratched at the back of his neck, at a loss for words for a moment before saying, “You decided to stay and help.”

  Cai smiled wryly. “Uh-huh. But don’t think it was just your little speech that swayed me. There were several factors. So wipe that cheeky smile off your face.”

  Iain just kept grinning, walking with purpose, his posture straight.

  It was not long before they came to a clearing in the woods; there were Iron Guard soldiers struggling on the ground, held down by hands of Earth and silenced by Shadows.

  All that magic… It’s so powerful.

  As they neared, James could barely pry his gaze from the magic, wondering how he could replicate it or if there was anything in Cecil’s notes about Shadow Magic; however, when he did look up, he saw his brother wasn’t looking at the magic but at Deirdre.

  She spun around to face them, lively and grinning, and then she bounded over. Iain reached out to steady her as she barreled toward him, but it did him no good as she simply ran right through his open hands and threw her arms around him, pulling him into an embrace.

  Iain froze, his hands suspended.

  “You were right!” Deirdre let go of him and stepped back. “This magic—it’s part of me, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Did you see? Did you see what we did? The magic and I took out all those soldiers, and it was as easy as breathing!”

  “You’re really getting the hang of it, yeah?” Iain grinned. “You look good. Confident, I mean. It really suits you.”

  Deirdre giggled. “I am confid
ent, and I do feel like I’m finally understanding the magic and everything…” She trailed off, her eyes narrowing slightly as they fell on James. She half reached for him like she might hug him too, then stopped and clasped her hands in front of her.

  Maybe she didn’t realize I left her? But I guess she looks kinda mad.

  Rocking back on his heels, James started. “So what kind of magic did you—?”

  “You ditched me,” Deirdre whispered, leaning close and pointing at him. “I was terrified you’d been lost, and I couldn’t find you—”

  Iain was looking between the two of them, his head tilted. He couldn’t have heard what Deirdre was whispering, but James was not about to let her tattle on him. It would ruin everything.

  “It was just for a minute,” James countered quickly. “I thought you were following me. I guess you, um, got distracted or something.”

  Deirdre’s pale violet eyes flashed. She stepped closer, arms folded tight, and whispered, her voice tight and strained like she might cry, “And now you’re lying to my face. That isn’t what friends are supposed to do.”

  “I am your friend. You’re just… wrong.” The hurt in her eyes really twisted the knife, but James fought back against his guilt, pushing it aside for now. Wanting to get away, he strode onward to the clearing with his head down.

  Cai and Iain caught up to him, talking. He didn’t catch what they were saying until Deirdre began to jump in place with excitement. “Come on! Someone’s waiting for you. Someone who misses you both so much!”

  They reached the clearing with the soldiers, and James looked up from the ground when Iain grabbed him, his fingers like a vise around his arm. “Iain, what are you—?”

  “Mum?” Iain’s voice was faint, strained. “It’s Mum.”

  James froze, his breath trapped in his lungs.

  How many times had he imagined this moment, finding her or her coming home? He had always known and rehearsed in his head exactly what he would say to her. But all those words faded away when he saw her for the first time in six years.