The Best of Deep Magic- Anthology One

by Jeff Wheeler

  The soldier shook his head, right hand on the pommel of a long-bladed knife on his right hip. “You were at Merdrid’s shop today, weren’t you?”

  Danai almost laughed as she realized she had run away from the shop earlier so he would not see her. She had not wanted him to see her smelling foul and grubby from a climb. As it turned out, he had seen her there and probably recognized her so easily now because she was once again dirty, shirt torn, likely smelling of sweat, and drenched on top of it. So much for making a good first impression. She simply nodded, not trusting how foolish she might sound if she spoke.

  In contrast to Danai standing stiffly at the side of the road shivering in small bursts, the soldier seemed comfortable, relaxed perhaps, or maybe just ready to act however he needed. He said, “Is there another road that we did not know about? Or did you come over the face of that cliff?”

  Danai cocked her head slightly to the side. Did the man seem amused? “I climbed the face.” She was relieved her voice did not falter.

  “Well, I’m glad to see you can speak. This would take much longer to get through if we could not converse.”

  Danai retorted without much thought, “I think you mean, you heard me speak. You cannot see the words.”

  He offered a mirthless chuckle. “I meant what I said. A good soldier sees as much as he hears when he is speaking with someone. I can see by your expression that you were startled and not entirely happy to see me. I can also see you are frightened, but determined, by the way you hold yourself.”

  “Can your keen eye see that I’m freezing?”

  The soldier folded his arms in front of his chest. “Yes, I can see that too. But you were the one who scaled her way into the highlands at night with naught but a light jacket.” He stepped a little closer. “Now we are going to discuss what you hoped to accomplish tonight. Will you tell me?”

  The rain grew colder and the wind blew harder. Treetops swayed back and forth like hands waving in a parade. Danai did not know what to say, so she said nothing.

  “We don’t need to make this any worse than it needs to be.” He pointed toward an enormous evergreen a short distance away. “Sit under those boughs and you won’t get any wetter.” He waited for her to start walking and then followed.

  The span of branches grew just above the man’s height and offered a large circle of dry needles and dirt. Danai no longer cared that she was a mess, and sat on the dry ground, knowing that her backside would be covered in mud and needles. She hugged her knees to her chest, hoping to get feeling back into her fingers and toes. She was not very good at lying, so she decided not to spin one here. “You took something that I need to keep my father alive.”

  The soldier stood near, and raised both eyebrows. “You admit you came to steal the bowl?”

  “No, I came to take back what you and your boss stole from mine.” She kept her tone even, and tried to keep her emotions under control. She must have regained a little feeling in her behind, because she realized several needles were poking her there.

  “Do you really believe all of that? You believe that your father will die without Merdrid getting the bowl back, and that she is its rightful owner?”

  Danai shifted her weight forward and brushed the seat of her pants to clear away the offending needles. “I do. I have gathered ingredients for my father’s poultice for years. He suffers from the blue moth plague, which killed many in the valley five years ago when it came. Without Merdrid’s poultice, the last several survivors will die. Without the mortar, she cannot infuse the poultice with the power needed to fight back the plague. You have no idea what that plague did to my father.” Danai decided that the soldier did not need to know about her mother dying from it. That was one more wound in her heart—one that would remain there as far as this man was concerned. “Whether Merdrid owns the mortar I had not considered; all I know is that she has had it as long as I have known her.”

  Not far from where they were speaking, a treetop creaked in the wind and snapped. It fell to the ground with a thud. “You willingly serve her then?” The man’s head shook slowly from side to side.

  “Yes. She has given me work and enough money to keep my father and me fed and sheltered. She also cares for him free of charge. Without Merdrid, my life would have been far worse. In the last five years, she has given me no reason to doubt her.” Danai felt the truth of her words shiver down her spine. She would have been an orphan without Merdrid.

  The soldier studied her for a while. “Your words ring true, but I cannot see how that is possible. We will need to talk a little longer, but you have at least interested me enough not to arrest you on the spot. My name is Kleed, Kleed Rancic.”

  Danai raised her chin in defiance. “Arrest me? For what? I have committed no crime.”

  “You came to steal the king’s bloodstone.”

  Danai rose to her knees. “Perhaps I came to ask you to return it to its owner.”

  Kleed chuckled, and seemed to do so with genuine mirth. “We both know your intent. But you are generally right that mere intent to commit a crime is not enough to warrant an arrest.” He ushered her to sit back down. “However, as one of the Kingsworn, my commission gives me certain rights. Any who hinder the recovery of the bloodstone are in violation of the law. That is my authority to arrest you. But as I said, I do not intend to do that just yet.”

  Danai could not believe the arrogance of the soldier. He was actually smiling. “You call the mortar bloodstone. I have heard this name, but I know very little of what that means.” Perhaps if she stalled, she would figure a way to get out of this hog’s pit of a mess. Besides, the potion should be helping her any minute, though she wished she knew how.

  “Miss, I will ask the questions. However, if you will start by giving me your name, I will consider your request.”

  Danai fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I didn’t actually ask a question or make a request. My name is Danai Walders.”

  Ignoring her near eye roll and verbal impudence, Kleed continued. “Thank you for your name, Danai. I cannot tell you about the bloodstone. And I cannot believe you risk your life for one, not knowing what it is. What I do want to find out is how a beautiful, smart young woman came to align herself with Merdrid.”

  “I already told you that Merdrid took me in and gave me work. She tends to my father and gives me moments of time each month where my father is much like his old self. Merdrid is strict, but fair, and she has a sweet side.” Her cheeks heated at his insincere compliment.

  Kleed chuckled once more. “I wonder what you will think of her a month from now, when she has no bloodstone to continue her ‘work’ in the valley.”

  Danai scowled, “If that happens, I will likely lose myself completely. My father will be dead and my heart with him.” She wondered why she ever felt attracted to the man who was now robbing her of her last treasures. “Why do you think Merdrid is so awful? Even if the mortar came from a rock that belongs to the king, she uses it to heal. In her hands, it does good for the king’s subjects in that valley.” She pointed sharply in the direction of the Brasin valley.

  Kleed breathed deeply for a moment, tapping one finger on his chin. “I will tell you this much. I have seen the truth of the woman, a truth that cannot be hidden from me. That truth does not square with your opinions of Merdrid. I fear she may have you bound in something so tightly that you can only see the truth she wants you to see. I considered arresting her this day, but she did nothing in her shop to prevent our recovery of the bloodstone. However, now that she has sent you to steal the stone . . .”

  Danai tried to think. Not only was her freedom and her father’s life at stake, but her actions would likely pull Merdrid into this quagmire. Those thoughts did not help her; she must think productively. How did he know to lead me to this tree, when almost all others failed to protect from the storm? She looked around and saw the answer: footprints and wet spots existed where neither she nor Kleed had been, at least not since she and he arrived at the t
ree together. She feared the man had followed her down the road, and may have even see her drink the potion. But the prints and wet spots showed he had been here, watching the road from here. The camp must be close by. She had been quiet too long. She looked up and let her lip quiver, which was easy to do as cold as she remained. “First, you tell me I am smart, and then insult my intelligence by telling me you can see the truth of a woman in an instant when she has fooled me for years. Then, you try to flatter me by telling me I am beautiful, when I know I am plain. Perhaps these tricks work on many girls, but I know who I am and I know what I believe. I am not one to be moved by false compliments and bold promises.” Danai knew she was laying it on a little thick, but also knew there was truth in both her words and feelings. She really did despise it when men used lies and compliments to get what they wanted from a girl.

  Kleed’s mouth hung open for a long second. “I meant what I said on both counts. I can see the truth of Merdrid because of something unique that has nothing to do with my intelligence. And, Danai, don’t bandy with me about your looks. Plain is a daisy. You are a rose.” Kleed’s head tilted a little askew and he rubbed the back of his neck.

  Danai looked around without trying to be obvious, hoping to find a rock that might be used as a weapon if she needed it, and found none. She also looked into Kleed’s eyes and saw he was earnest. She shook her head. How much would she have given when she first laid eyes on the man to hear him genuinely say what he said now? Now, she was looking for a way to hit him on the head and get free of him. Not only was life not fair in the Brasin valley, but it sometimes made little sense.

  Lightning and thunder joined the rain all around them, shaking the ground and flashing brightly for a split second before leaving them in the dark once more. Kleed continued. “You truly believe you are plain.” He took a step back and reached down the back of his cloak. “I think I may have found the answer. Sit still for just a moment.” His hand came out, clutching a leather cord. He slipped it around his head and removed a pendant of dark gray stone with golden flecks, cut into a circle and polished until it shone like burnished metal.

  Once the pendant cleared Kleed’s head, Danai felt something within her chest move, like her insides were all trading places. Whatever she felt must have paled compared to what was happening to Kleed. He swayed and dropped to his knees. When he looked up, his expression had changed into what appeared to be hopefulness. Keen hopefulness. At least, that was the modest characterization Danai chose to use. “Are you well, Kleed?”

  “Oh, yes.” His smile was gorgeous.

  Danai thought it unfair that he had such a perfect smile on top of all the other blessings he had been given. But she knew she should be thinking of something else. Her mind refused to work how she wanted. “Tell me how you know my opinion of Merdrid is wrong, Kleed.”

  He winked at her. “Say my name once more and I might.”

  Good heavens! Danai thought. Why is he acting so bizarre all of a sudden? The potion! Good golden lake of the gods! Why did Merdrid give her this potion? “Kleed . . .”

  He interrupted before she could continue. “I wear a bloodstone that lets me see things as they really are and prevents other bloodstones from affecting me.” He held up the pendant.

  Danai decided her mind, as muddled as it was, worked far better than Kleed’s was working. “Tell me what you know about bloodstones. Please, Kleed?” She batted her eyelashes like she imagined girls did when they flirted. She made herself blush by doing it.

  “If I tell you, can I give you a kiss?”

  Danai arched a single brow and said softly, “Why don’t you tell me and find out.” She almost made herself vomit.

  “All of the bloodstone found in this kingdom came from one place, the king’s mine to the far south. All bloodstone from that mine belong to the king. It is his decree that the stones be found and gathered that underlies my commission. A person can make an offering through a bloodstone, and if the offering is accepted, the blood of the one making the offer seals it in an irrevocable covenant. The power or blessings offered to the oathmaker are called vosang. The power comes from the dedication of life and blood of the offeror to serve the purpose of the promise.”

  “Who accepts the offer?” Danai’s head was swimming.

  Kleed continued. “Some say it is the gods themselves. And it must be an offering that is balanced on both sides. The stone I have protects the wearer from the power of other stones, but it was made by my offer to bring other stones to the king. I know that once an offering is accepted, amazing powers can be gained. That is why they are so dangerous and why the king wants them kept safe.” Kleed crawled toward Danai. “May I kiss you now?”

  The offer sounded really good. Somewhere in her mind, Danai knew it was not real, that what was happening came out of a bottle, but she did not care right then. She smiled and leaned toward him. They clasped hands, and Danai felt the cool smoothness of the stone pendant. Lightning flashed, thunder broke, and the trees swayed as they came together for a kiss. The ground seemed to buck, and everything went dark. Danai fell, but was unconscious before she hit the ground.

  * * *

  Unaware of how much time had passed, where she was, or even if she was really alive, Danai awoke. Her head felt as though it was being used to prop up the drooping corner of Merdrid’s shop as a makeshift cornerstone. It throbbed in time with her heartbeat. Her thoughts seemed to lurk at the bottom of a rather thick pea soup, and wanted nothing more than to stay lost in the depths of unconsciousness. The first thing outside of herself that she realized was some source of bright light beamed as though to burn through her eyelids and melt her brain. And her mouth was so very dry.

  “Ah, you live again, Sis.” Merdrid’s familiar and soothing voice beckoned her.

  Danai felt a blanket covering her, and she struggled to pull it over her head with her left hand; something was in her right hand, but she did not know what. Both hands and arms felt as though hundreds of tiny pins were pricking them and robbing all strength. She grunted something in reply that fell far short of a recognizable word.

  “Don’t play the turtle on me, Sis. I need you to come out and drink the tea I have prepared. It will help you feel better. Then we can talk about all that we need to do today.” Merdrid’s voice was still sweet, and in remarkably good spirits.

  Danai heard the part about tea and feeling better. She also realized Merdrid seemed happy, which was noteworthy in itself. “Close the drapes.” She managed to say.

  The sounds of scuffled steps moving away from Danai preceded the room going dark. Merdrid’s voice spoke from across the room, “It is nice and dark now, Sis.”

  When Danai lowered the blanket, she realized she was in her own room at home. It seemed strange to find Merdrid at her bedside. “I’m . . . sorry . . . Merdrid.” She managed to say around the throbbing spasms of pain in her head.

  “Don’t be foolish. What have you to be sorry for, dear child?” Merdrid’s cheerfulness grated her nerves.

  “I didn’t get it.” Danai felt the object in her right hand. It was circular, very smooth, and attached to a string. She thought she should recognize it by feel, but her mind was not working properly, and any effort to recall the prior night made her head hurt worse.

  “Please let me get some of this tea in you.” Patience was almost as foreign as cheerfulness with Merdrid. This was a rare day.

  Danai obliged and took the steaming cup. It was made of gray stone and had a few chips, but no cracks, which made it the best one in her home. She felt a tinge of embarrassment at her meager living quarters, but tried to forget her pride. The tea was warm, but not hot, and the bitter bark that she expected to find was well masked with a generous amount of honey. She felt better just drinking something warm. The object in her hand had a hole in it—like a ring. She almost pulled it out to inspect, but then decided not to at the last second.

  “What didn’t you get?” Merdrid asked, sitting on a wobbly stool next to the bed.
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  It took Danai a moment to recall her own statement and realize what Merdrid was asking. “The mortar.” Her eyes focused on Merdrid’s shoes, which looked a little muddy.

  Merdrid’s chuckle filled the room and Danai nearly fell off the bed. “Of course you did not fail, Danai.” Merdrid leaned down and picked the mortar up from the floor, holding it where Danai could see its dark gray form with flecks of gold, the inner bowl glistening like it had been polished with wax. “I warned you that the potion might addle your memory, did I not?”

  Danai strained to remember getting the mortar, or even entering the camp, but could not. She wondered if she had met the handsome soldier, but try as she did to recall anything from the night before, no memory materialized. One question lingered in her mind above the others. “How did I get home?”

  “I suspect you ran down the face of the mountain, for you got home at the break of dawn.” Merdrid indicated with her hands to drink more of the tea. “The potion you drank was strong indeed. I would not be surprised if you had dreams you believed to be true. Reality and dream could easily be mottled together, Sis.”

  There was something about the potion that beckoned unpleasant thoughts in Danai’s mind. She was unhappy about the potion, but could not remember why. Then there was the handsome soldier, and her thoughts about him were uncertain. She drank the rest of the tea and tried to piece together the missing memories from the night before. “Are we safe? Will the men come back?”

  Merdrid’s smile sank a little. “I fear that they will. That is why I believe we need to move forward more quickly than I wanted with my idea about your father. We can try the cure on him today, and then if it works, we can quickly apply it to the others who suffer from the plague. Do you still want to help him?”