Storm

by Lauren L. Garcia

  “Not us.” Flint looked at her brother. “But don’t tell me you’re not hungry, relah.”

  Milo shrugged. “I dunno. I guess.”

  That was troubling; the lad always had a hearty appetite. Stonewall made a mental note to keep an eye on Milo.

  Beacon looked at Stonewall. “Ser, I know you like to eat alone, but…”

  Despite the honorific, likely spoken out of habit, there was hope in Beacon’s voice. Indeed, Rook, Milo, and even Flint regarded Stonewall in the same way. They wanted his company.

  Stonewall felt a true smile curve his mouth. “I’m in.”

  *

  Later, Stonewall said Rook’s name as the squad parted ways outside the common room. She gestured to Flint. “Go ahead to the baths. I’ll join you in a moment.”

  When the burnie slipped off, Rook glanced back at Stonewall, a question on her face. Gone was the nervousness she had shown during the squad’s earlier discussion. Something inside of Stonewall eased a tiny bit.

  “Are you going to tell Talon about…?” He waved a hand in the general direction of the bastion.

  Rook did not play coy. She was forthright in her own way. “I’ve no plans to tell Talon anything.”

  That tight, coiled part of him eased a little more. “Thank y—”

  “But you’re an idiot,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “To love one of them.”

  He decided to ignore the disdain in her voice. “No arguments there. I just don’t want anyone else to be in danger because of it.”

  Rook’s gaze went distant. “Love is the most dangerous foe you will ever face. For while the One shaped our souls, our hearts were not made for magic.” She blinked as if to clear her eyes, and regarded him again. “Take me with you when you talk to Talon.”

  It wasn’t a request, but neither was it a demand. Stonewall opened his mouth to object, but thought better of it. Sometimes, it was foolish to turn aside aid freely offered. And it would be good to have an ally with him the next time he spoke to the commander – whenever he could rally his courage.

  So he nodded. “I’d appreciate that. Thanks.”

  Rook gave him a small smile. “You’re smarter than you look.”

  Now he laughed outright. “Not by much.”

  Six

  Birdsong trickled through the darkness, reaching Eris in sleep – if indeed she had been sleeping. Lately, she could not tell the difference between sleep and wakefulness. The latter was usually more uncomfortable; the pressure on her bladder might have had a hand in rousing her this time, too. Her eyes opened reluctantly and fell upon the empty space beside her on the tiny bed.

  She closed them again, willing herself back to her dreams, where she could see Gid again. But her body betrayed her, refusing to let her sink back into blissful unconsciousness until she’d attended to basic needs. With a sigh, Eris sat up, and for the first time in recent memory, examined her surroundings. She was in a small, rectangular-shaped room with a single round window above the bed, through which she could see a white sky. So it was daytime, wherever she was. The room was packed to bursting with boxes and baskets, cleverly fitted together to use every bit of available space. Scents of cedar, lavender, and her own less-than pleasant odor hung in the air. How long had she lain here? Where was here, exactly?

  Sounds of conversation made her peer outside the window to see a Sufani camp. The brightly colored wagons sat around several fires, some with smoking meat or stew; others hosting the nomadic people swathed head to toe in jewel-toned robes. No sign of the other mages, or Leal, for that matter, though surely the Sufani woman was the reason Eris was in one of their wagons.

  A small door at the opposite end of the wagon opened and a familiar figure peered inside. The moment Adrie Talar realized Eris was standing, relief swept across the older mage’s face. Adrie slipped inside and shut the door behind her.

  “Where are we?” Eris asked as Adrie bustled up, balancing a basket on her hip. Fair-haired, Adrie had about twenty summers on Eris. Round cheeks and clear blue eyes gave her a soft appearance, but her gaze upon Eris was discerning.

  “According to Leal, somewhere in the outskirts of Whitewater Province,” Adrie replied as she set the basket upon the bed. “Far away from Whitewater City, at any rate. We’re with Leal’s family.”

  “I gathered.”

  Adrie studied her. “How are you?”

  Eris looked at the window, but saw only the smudges on the glass and nothing of the world beyond. “How do you think?’

  “Three days,” Adrie said. At Eris’ bewildered look, she shook her head. “You were gone for three days after Heartfire. We thought…” She began to rummage through the basket. “Let’s just say I’ve never been so relieved to have a sopping wet crow fall in my lap, though I could have done without you changing form immediately. The Sufani didn’t know what to make of the naked woman that seemed to drop out of the sky.”

  Three days. For a mercy, Eris’ memory of those days was hazy. Mostly she recalled the rush of wind through her feathers and the endless sky above. Perhaps crow impressions were simpler than human ones. But no matter how high or how far she had flown, she had not been able to escape her grief.

  “How long have I been here?” Eris asked.

  “Just a day. You found us yesterday morning.”

  One day? It felt like longer.

  Adrie withdrew a clean set of clothes and various foodstuffs from the basket, chattering away to distract them both. “I’ve made myself useful here, as much as I can. Wish I’d been able to bring some of my good pots and pans, but I can always find more. I’ve some bread and cheese for you, and some sort of dried fruit Leal’s mother gave us, though it’s a bit tart for my liking. You must be famished.”

  “I have to piss,” Eris said.

  “No doubt.” Adrie held out a clean tunic and a thick, dark-green cloak. “I’ll show you to the women’s latrine. It’s hardly more than a secluded spot in the forest, but no snakes have bitten my ass, so I suppose that’s the height of luxury out here.”

  Eris studied the tunic before glancing down at what she had been wearing: a cotton shirt that billowed to her knees and ripped wool leggings. She’d lost her original clothes when she’d shifted to crow-shape, so someone must have put her in these when she’d returned.

  She looked back at Adrie. “It doesn’t matter what I look like.”

  “But you look like you fell out of a tree. You’re filthy and your hair is full of knots.”

  Eris ran a hand through her long black hair – or tried, as it was matted and tangled beyond repair. She pulled out a small black feather, which she twirled between her forefinger and thumb before shaking her head. “I don’t care, Adrie. I just have to piss.”

  “You’ll feel better with fresh clothes. And you’ll need boots as well, if you’re to be traipsing through the brambles.” Adrie hesitated, then placed a gentle hand on Eris’ arm. “I know it hurts, love, but you must take care of yourself – and the little one.”

  Dread swept through Eris’ veins. How would shape-changing affect the new life growing in her womb? She closed her eyes in concentration and searched for the particles of her unborn child. If she’d harmed hers and Gid’s baby with her magic…

  “Everything’s well,” she said, eyes stinging with relief. “But I don’t know if that will always be the case. I don’t know of another mage who can shape-change.”

  “Nor do I,” Adrie replied, offering the tunic again. “So you must take care.”

  Eris changed quickly and tugged on a sturdy but too-small pair of boots, then followed Adrie out of the caravan and into the pale daylight. The sky was white and heavy with snow; the clean, sharp scent promised nasty weather, and soon. Eris kept pace with Adrie as the other mage led them through the half a dozen or so scattered caravans and campfires, and the nomads who lived among them. All eyes followed the mages’ progress, but Eris ignored them.

  As Adrie had said, the latrine was rustic, but Eris didn’t com
plain. Once she’d finished, the two mages made their way back to the main body of the camp. Now, Eris found some interest in the faces they passed; she didn’t care about the Sufani, only the other mages from Whitewater Bastion who had escaped with her and–

  “Where are the others?’ she asked.

  Adrie pointed ahead, to a caravan Eris had not noticed before, tucked away at the perimeter. “They’re together, mostly. Everyone’s been worried about you, but I’ve tried to keep them at bay. I thought…you might not want company right now.”

  The hesitation in Adrie’s voice made Eris look at her. “Thank you,” she said, managing to sound like she meant it. “But I’d like to see them.”

  Adrie frowned. “Now? Are you certain? Don’t you want something to–”

  “I can eat and talk to my friends at the same time,” Eris interrupted. Sod it all, she spoke too harshly, and the other mage’s frown deepened. Eris tried and failed to find an apology, and instead added, “I need to know they’re all right.”

  Brightness welled in Adrie’s eyes but her reply was brisk. “Aye. Of course. They’re all fine, for what it’s worth.”

  A prickle of unease ran up Eris’ spine. “What’s wrong?”

  Adrie glanced around at the Sufani who watched the mages, stepping aside to give both women a wide berth. The mages passed by a male Sufani holding a small child; the child waved, but the man grabbed her arm and turned them both away, speaking to her in low, harsh tones.

  “They don’t like us,” Adrie whispered. “Well, some of them don’t. Apparently, Leal’s parents lead this group, but Leal never asked for permission to bring the lot of us back here. She argued with her mother and father for hours after we arrived. I’m not sure they’ve exchanged more than a handful of words since.”

  Eris’ unease flared into anger so hot and fierce it caught her by surprise. Yet, she was not surprised to learn that even these Sufani nomads—considered outcasts by most of Aredia—did not want mages in their midst. “Have the Sufani been hostile to you or the others?”

  “No, nothing like that.” Adrie sighed. “Well, you can see how they feel about us.”

  Eris glanced to her other side, where a trio of Sufani women watched her and Adrie’s progress through their camp. At her look, the women shifted uncomfortably, muttering to one another. Eris scowled at them before facing forward. “The feeling is mutual.”

  The other mages had clustered together around the wagon they must have used to escape the city, which made Eris wonder whose caravan she had recuperated in. But before she could puzzle that out, Cai spotted her. The brown-haired young man, who had been Gideon’s closest friend in the bastion, nudged the mages beside him and they all rose to greet her. The next thing Eris knew, Cai had bounded forward and swept her into a massive embrace, pulling her off her feet. When he set her down, he gripped her shoulders and met her gaze. His tan skin was flushed and his eyes were red-rimmed.

  “Those sodding guards,” he said between clenched teeth. “Eris, I swear to you… I’ll avenge his death.”

  Eris’ throat tightened and she could do no more than nod in reply. Marcen greeted her next, fair skin seeming gray in the morning light. He offered her a quick hug, adding in a whisper, “I’m so sorry.”

  “Me too,” Eris managed.

  Sirvat embraced her then, the pregnant mage’s swollen belly brushing against Eris, reminding her of her own condition. Eris made her way through the remaining seven mages, who all expressed their condolences over Gideon and offered either promises of revenge or words of sympathy. Eris accepted both, but neither stuck in her mind. Revenge or sympathy… Neither would bring her husband back to life.

  Someone handed her a bowl of broth and a hunk of bread, and she sat beside the fire among her allies as they shared their experiences on Heartfire. “Cai wanted to turn back for you and Gideon,” Adrie said, seated beside Eris. “But there were too many city guards and sentinels. And…we truly thought you were dead.”

  “That sodding guard flung you over the bridge,” Cai said when Adrie trailed off. Unlike the others, he paced back and forth by the fire. “No one saw you change, so we feared the worst until you found us yesterday.”

  “How did you find us?” Marcen asked.

  Despite the chunks of vegetables and the scent of spices, the soup tasted like nothing. The bread was hard. Eris almost set both aside until she thought of her unborn child. Resolutely, she dipped the bread into the broth and let the liquid soak through.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t remember much after…”

  The fire danced before her, snapping at the chill air. Had the hemies burned Gideon’s body? Or had they buried her husband in the ground to rot away, to be eaten by worms and maggots? Tears pricked her eyes and she stared down at the squash and potatoes floating in her bowl. A warm hand on her back made her look up to see Marcen’s soft smile. Despite herself, Eris found the expression comforting, because Mar was alive. Her friends were alive – and free.

  All but one.

  Movement in the forest caught Eris’ attention: a pearly gray mourning dove, cooing softly in the shadows of an oak tree. Unexpectedly, images of Kali came to Eris’ mind’s eye: Kali grinning at her when they were girls in Starwatch Bastion, after having pilfered sweetrolls from the kitchens; Kali weeping in the garden at Whitewater Bastion only a few days ago, wracked with grief over some sodding sentinel she’d been foolish enough to love.

  “We couldn’t have made it out of the city without Leal,” Adrie was saying. “After Drake got captured, she ensured we all reached the caravan safely, then drove us herself until we reached her family.”

  Drake. Eris had not forgotten the renegade mage, but the sound of his name brought more memories flooding back: Drake fighting alone with nothing but a spear to keep the sodding sentinels at bay so Eris and Gid could escape; Drake leading them through the city streets, twirling his fire-tipped staff trying to draw all attention away from the mages. He had risked everything to help her and her friends. Now he was the hemies’ prisoner.

  Eris looked around the Sufani camp. “Where is Leal?”

  “Scouting for hemies, I think,” Cai replied. “That’s about all she’s been doing since we arrived.”

  “No sign of them yet,” Marcen added. “But I don’t expect our luck to hold. We must be on the move, and soon.”

  Eris nodded absently and took a careful bite of her bread, little more than warm mush now from being soaked. But she already felt better. She glanced at Adrie again. “You said Leal and her parents quarreled?”

  Adrie nodded. “Aderey and Ytel—Leal’s father and mother—were not expecting to see their daughter return with nearly a dozen mages. They were under the impression that the Assembly would be taking us on.” Her forehead creased. “I still can’t believe those heretics have the nerve to turn up their noses at us.”

  “They should be our allies,” Marcen added. “None of us have any love for the Circle.”

  “The Circle is wrong to treat us how they do,” Adrie replied as a few others muttered agreement. “But the gods are still real. All of them. Not just the One, as the Sufani believe.”

  “Enough.” Eris held up her hand and all talk ceased. “Now is not the time to turn against one another; now is the time for unity. Regardless of what each of us believes, we are all mages. Whether that power was granted by blood, by nature, or,” she fought not to roll her eyes, “a god, doesn’t matter. We are all the same, inside. Now, why have you all not fled south, like we planned?”

  Marcen, Adrie, and the others exchanged startled glances. Cai rolled his eyes. “Why do you think, Eris-the-Crow?”

  Heat crept to her cheeks and she took another bite of soupy bread to disguise her shock and embarrassment, though she should not have felt either. Gideon wouldn’t have; she could see the gleam of pride in his beautiful dark eyes, hear his wry voice. “They stayed for you, love. Don’t let them down.”

  “Thank you,” she stammered as Ad
rie took her empty bowl. “But you shouldn’t linger. You must leave the province at once.”

  Adrie studied her. “Why does it sound like you’re not coming with us?”

  The others broke into startled confusion, but Eris wasn’t flustered. “Because I have unfinished business in Whitewater Bastion.”

  “What do you mean?” Cai asked.

  Eris only looked at him.

  Marcen caught on first. “You mean to go back for Kali.”

  “And Drake,” Eris said, nodding. “He’s one of us, too. And there are others who deserve another chance at freedom.”

  “You mean the hemie-lovers who refused to leave?” Cai asked. “Why risk our necks for them?”

  “Not everyone refused to leave,” Eris said. “Because not everyone could be trusted with the offer in the first place.”

  The others exchanged glances again, faces grim and concerned, but Cai shook his head. “We didn’t ask because we could guess that most of the other mages wouldn’t have wanted to come with us.”

  “Kali wanted to,” Eris told him. “But the hemies took her away at the last minute.” She did not mention Kali’s sentinel lover; that shame was Kali’s alone, and not Eris’ secret to tell. “Besides, Drake is there, too.”

  “Aye, no doubt shackled with hematite and stuffed in a cell,” Adrie said. “How can we get to him?”

  “I don’t know,” Eris admitted. “But we must find a way.” She surveyed the others. “You are all free now. None of you need follow me any longer. Especially back to the place we fought to escape.”

  More nervous glances were exchanged; Eris noted a few who seemed truly frightened, while others—including Cai, Adrie, and Marcen—wore expressions of grim determination.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Eris saw someone standing in the shadow of the caravan. Only when the figure pulled down her hood did Eris recognize Leal. The Sufani woman jerked her chin at Eris in a silent request. “Think about it,” Eris said, getting to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”