Storm

by Lauren L. Garcia

  No. She refused to accept the Pillars’ judgment. There must be something she could do to prove her competence and save Foley’s life.

  “Commander Talon?”

  She looked beside her, where Cobalt was scanning the letter over her shoulder. Talon crumpled the parchment and shoved it in her belt. Chastened, he briefly lowered his gaze, but soon met hers again. Ea’s balls… he looked worse than she felt. His cheeks were gaunt and the smudges beneath his eyes had only grown more prominent.

  “Go lie down,” she began, but he cut her off.

  “Argent’s bringing more hematite? Did I read that correctly, ser?”

  “That letter was not meant for you.”

  The captain’s next words were too measured. “Ser, given what happened the last time a hematite shipment came to us, the High Commander might have trouble getting the supply to the garrison. How well does he know the streets?”

  “Argent and Silver Squad can look after themselves.”

  His pale-blue eyes bored into hers; his scar seemed pink against his parchment skin. His voice was hoarse, almost a whisper. “Does he know the extent of our situation?”

  She glared at him. “Argent knows enough. And we still have work to do. We have a mage to execute.”

  Only when she said the words did she realize their truth. Halcyon’s death was the only solution she could see. Foley and the other mages had proved their loyalty. Cobalt and the burnies could attest to that. Argent could be reasoned with. It would be folly to kill all the mages in Whitewater Province, particularly with war pounding on their front door. Surely the Pillars realized this. If Argent took the renegade mage back with him, and if Kalinda was executed, perhaps the rest of the remaining bastion mages would be spared.

  Resolve crystallized within her heart and she felt the gods smiling upon her. Yes, this was the way. “We must set an example to the others, and to the Pillars,” she said.

  Cobalt considered. “But Gideon Echina was killed…”

  “Not by a sentinel. The mages must understand who is in control. Halcyon has proven to be more than enough trouble for us. Her death will solidify our hold upon the bastion.”

  Cobalt frowned again, but nodded, his face contorted with pain. “When shall we perform the execution?”

  Talon thought of the three vials of hematite tucked away in her desk. “Halcyon is secure for now. Get some rest. At dawn, gather who you can and meet me at her cell. We’ll bring her to the bastion gates. The other mages can watch from within.”

  No doubt Foley would call this plan cruel, but it was the best way to send her message. Even so, she fought the gnawing despair that had burrowed into the furthest corners of her heart. It won’t matter. Argent will come, anyway. Foley will die, anyway.

  Not if she could help it.

  Talon did not hear Cobalt take his leave, nor did she realize she had returned to her office until her hand brushed the door. How long had she been lost in her thoughts? She slipped inside her quarters, locked the door behind her, and went to her desk drawer. She pulled out the three vials of hematite that she had kept back. Her legs trembled as she slipped from her office to her living quarters, ensuring that this door was locked as well. The fire in her hearth was little more than embers, but she had no wood nor the strength to fetch more. An ewer of water and a single mug sat on a small table beside her bed. Carefully, she removed her armor, placing it upon the wooden stand made for this purpose, slid her chamber-pot to her bedside, and sat shivering upon the feather and straw mattress.

  Three vials, each filled with chips of purified hematite ore. Heart hammering, Talon tipped the contents of all three into her palm and studied them in the faint light cast by the glowing embers in her hearth. There was a chance this would kill her, but it was a small chance compared to that of her father’s execution. She would need every ounce of strength, speed, and ruthlessness she could muster if she wanted to save Foley’s life. If, by some miracle, Argent did not destroy the other mages here... Well, she would deal with the aftermath, later.

  Sacrifice, she thought, and swallowed all three doses at once.

  Twenty-Five

  A crow’s call split the silence. Milo saw no trace of black against the white sky beyond the bastion walls, but even so, his heart beat faster with the memories evoked by that sound. The wind that crept beneath his armor seemed too cold and each step made his leather gear creak too loudly. Out of habit, he kept one hand on a dagger grip as he and Flint followed Mage Clementa through the bastion.

  “You will find I have spoken truly,” Mage Clementa was saying. “All of us still wear our collars.”

  Flint rolled her eyes, no doubt at the mage’s eager tone. But Milo did not share his twin’s annoyance – at least, not with Mage Clementa.

  “I’m sure they are, ser,” Milo said to the older man. “But you know we have our orders.”

  The First Mage ducked his head in acknowledgment, his boots crunching on the snow. “Aye. So you do.”

  “At least this won’t take too long,” Flint muttered to Milo as Mage Clementa walked ahead. “I want to find Rook and Beacon.”

  It was a testament to Flint’s nerves that she’d not spoken of the squad’s mender with her usual sharpness. Milo wished he could offer his sister some comfort, but his stomach had been in knots since well before Stonewall had been arrested.

  “Me too,” he said. “But we must take care. We must follow the commander’s orders.”

  He said the last bit gravely, maybe a little too much so, but Flint nodded and replied, a little louder, “Thank the One we’re not in the infirmary with the rest of those sodding traitors.”

  Milo grimaced internally, but the lie was necessary to keep up their ruse. He shot a glance at the mage ahead, but could not tell if Clementa paid them any mind.

  The crow called again. Flint squared her shoulders, but her hand tightened upon her sword hilt at the sound. Was it closer than before? Milo squinted again, but could make out nothing but high walls and clouds.

  Calm down, he told himself. Nothing within these walls can harm you. The knowledge was easy to believe when surrounded by his sentinel brothers and sisters. Now, though, with just him, Flint, and Mage Clementa, even the sound of his own footfalls set him on edge.

  They reached the mage dormitories. Mage Clementa slipped inside first, Flint followed. Milo stood at the threshold for a moment, peering around in awe. He’d never set foot in here before. A woven mat and several pairs of shoes in all different sizes rested on the stones outside the wooden door. Milo wiped off his boots, and then entered after his sister.

  Warmth enveloped him and he sighed in relief. He hadn’t realized just how cold it was outside until he was inside where several hearths burned merrily. What mages remained at Whitewater Bastion had gathered in the room, sipping tea or wine, playing cards, or speaking in low tones. At the twins’ entrance, however, each went still, their eyes fixed on the sentinels. Someone dropped a mug and the resulting shatter echoed through the otherwise silent room.

  Mage Clementa held up his only hand. “Be easy, friends. They have only come to ensure the collars remain in place.”

  The mages exchanged nervous glances, but the First Mage’s words seemed to go over well enough. Milo and Flint moved among the assembled mages, checking each collar. No one spoke; some barely seemed to breathe. The only movement aside from the sentinels came from the nervous glances that darted from the sentinels’ swords to their daggers. Sweet Mara’s mercy… Milo could practically taste their fear – of him. Hot shame flooded him at the understanding.

  When they’d finished, Flint frowned over the lot. “Has anyone seen Mage Sadira?”

  The others shook their heads. Mage Clementa stroked his beard in thought. “She was in the garden earlier, but I believe she went back to her quarters… Ah, there she is.” He nodded to the common room’s entrance, where the white-haired mage stood staring at the twins.

  Milo thanked the First Mage and went to Mage Sadira, Fl
int on his heels. “We’re here to check your…” He trailed off when he caught sight of her neck. Her collar was in place, but she wasn’t wearing her hematite torc. Was something amiss?

  “I found something in Kalinda’s room,” the Zhee mage said without preamble. “Come. I must show you at once.”

  “‘Something,’” Clementa repeated. “What in Atal’s name do you mean?”

  But she shook her head. “It is for the sentinels’ eyes, and no one else’s.”

  “I’m the First Mage of this bastion. You will show me, too.”

  Sadira shot Milo and Flint a beseeching look. Flint caught on first. “You’ll stay here,” she growled to Clementa. “And remember your place in the One’s world.”

  The First Mage regarded her, his only hand clenching and unclenching. He glanced around at the other mages, who all stared at the unfolding scene before them. At last, he gave a half-bow.

  Flint scoffed and looked back at Sadira. “Show us.”

  The Zhee mage slipped into the stone corridor without another word, and Milo and Flint hurried after. The moment the common room door closed behind them, Flint grinned. “Always wanted to tell that one-handed bastard off.”

  “He’s only trying to do his job,” Milo replied. When Flint glowered at him, he chuckled and elbowed her cuirass. “Ah, I’m kidding. He deserved it.”

  “Ass,” she muttered, before looking at Mage Sadira. “What’s going on? Where are we…”

  She trailed off as Sadira stopped in front of an unremarkable door. The Zhee mage glanced around, and then met each sentinels’ eyes in turn, her voice low and serious. “Do you know where Kali is?”

  “Locked away in the garrison’s detention area,” Flint replied grimly. “We made sure she’s got food and water, but Talon’s had us too busy to do more.”

  Milo nodded. “Aye. And we haven’t been able to check on Stonewall…” That had been a direct order from Captain Cobalt, who had placed Hornfel on guard duty at the former sergeant’s door. The thought of Stonewall, injured and probably dying, made Milo’s stomach sink. His hand stole to the hematite vials tucked in his belt. If he could have one minute alone with Stonewall, he could save the other man. It wasn’t fair!

  One step at a time. They’d been quick in the bastion; perhaps after this, he and Flint could sneak hematite to their squad-mates, and maybe, somehow get some to Stonewall, too.

  Mage Sadira’s voice brought Milo out of his dark thoughts. “Is…is Beacon…?”

  Her cheeks darkened and she trailed off.

  Milo frowned at her. “Is he…what? Alive?”

  “He’s alive,” Flint said. “Though I can’t say for how much longer. We must get him, Rook, and Stonewall away from the garrison, Forsworn or not.” She glanced at Milo. “Same goes for you and me.”

  Milo nodded. The knot in his chest relaxed a tiny bit at her words. Getting away from the garrison, from this life… It would be a relief, to say the least.

  “If we’re going to continue our chat,” Flint added. “We should take cover.”

  The Zhee mage opened the door and ushered the sentinels inside. After she entered, Milo heard the lock click behind his back, but he didn’t turn around, for Eris Echina stood in the clutter, green eyes narrowed like arrowheads.

  “Shit,” Flint swore and dropped her hands to her daggers, though she did not pull them free of their scabbards. Milo’s blood leaped at the sight of the renegade mage’s murderous glare, but he, too, did not draw his weapons.

  Thank Mara for the hematite running hot through his veins.

  “What are they doing here?” Echina said to Mage Sadira. “You told me you would fetch some of Kali’s friends!”

  “And so I have.” Sadira picked her way through piles of books, scrolls, and clothes to stand between Echina and the sentinels. “You are all on the same side.”

  “They are monsters,” Echina shot back. “And you are an even bigger fool than I reckoned, if you think I’ll place any trust in them.”

  “We’re not monsters,” Milo replied. “We’re trying to help others.”

  Flint lifted her chin. “Aye, and what have you done, Echina? Other than make life harder for everyone you left behind?” She pointed at Mage Sadira’s collar. “Or do you think that’s just the latest fashion trend?”

  Echina’s eyes widened but Flint’s words seemed to strike a chord, for some of the anger left her face. Some, not all. “You accuse me of making mages’ lives harder? Metal-licking sods.”

  “Coward,” Flint replied.

  “Stop it,” Milo and Mage Sadira both said at once. They exchanged wry looks before the Zhee mage cleared her throat. “Eris, they wish to leave the garrison,” she said. “And they have the means to do so.”

  She shot Milo a meaningful look. At first, he only stared at her, then he remembered the keys he’d shoved into his belt pouch. With some fumbling, he brought them out and held them up so the mages could see.

  Echina’s gaze caught on the iron pieces before she looked back at Sadira. “As I said when we met before, I only came back for Kali and Drake. If you think to taunt me with these,” she wrinkled her nose at Milo, “metal-blooded idiots, then I shall take my leave.”

  She began to back toward the open window, where the curtains rippled in the breeze. But Mage Sadira stepped toward the other mage, saying her name. “They are allies of Kalinda,” she said, gesturing to the twins. “And of Stonewall.”

  The shape-changing mage glared. “That dreg has caused enough trouble.”

  “He’s dying as we speak,” Milo said, heat stinging his eyes.

  “He’s not the only one,” Flint added. “Until we get more hematite, we’re royally fucked.”

  A thin smile curved Echina’s mouth. “Good.”

  Fury swept through Milo’s veins and he stepped forward before he could stop himself, Flint at his side. “Stonewall is an honorable man who loves your friend,” Milo said. “He risked everything to save her.”

  “For all the good it did him,” Flint added darkly. She looked at Mage Sadira. “I hate to agree with Echina, but why in the blazing void did you bring us all here?”

  “Because you must set aside your…” She grimaced in frustration. “Your… quills if you are to survive.”

  “Quills?” Echina said, brows knitted. “What in the stars are you talking about?’

  “Quarrels?” Milo offered.

  Mage Sadira shot him a grateful look and nodded. “You all have the same goals, do you not? To free your allies from this prison and leave in peace.”

  “She’s right,” Milo replied. “Mage Echina, we could use your help. We don’t have a way to get out of the city, but I’m guessing you do?” She must have, if she’d come back here to free Mage Halcyon and Drake. Unless she planned to turn the other mages into birds, too…

  Echina regarded him coolly. “I might.”

  “You might?” Flint said. “Have you seen the city guards at the gates? Do you know how difficult it’ll be to get past them?”

  “Don’t speak to me of those guards when my husband’s blood still stains the threshold into this miserable city,” Echina spat.

  As she spoke, her eyes brightened with tears, and she turned away. Flint murmured something about keeping watch and slipped to stand by the door, but Milo risked another step toward the mage, carefully avoiding a viol case. “I’m really sorry about your husband,” he said quietly. “He didn’t deserve that fate. He just wanted to be free. I understand that, now.”

  Echina glanced at him. “Pretty words, Sentinel. But they won’t bring Gideon back to me.”

  “No, they won’t,” Milo admitted. “And no doubt he’d tell you not to trust a couple of metal-blooded morons like us.”

  “Milo!”

  He ignored his sister and instead held the keys in front of Echina. “If you want our help rescuing the others, including Kali and Stonewall’s brother, you have to trust us a little bit.”

  She frowned. “Stonewall’s brot
her? Another sentinel?”

  So she didn’t know. Milo winced. “Ah…I mean Drake.”

  “Drake is related to Kalinda’s…” Echina grimaced. “Sentinel lover?”

  Milo nodded. “But he’s a mage, through and through. It’s why he’s imprisoned, after all.” Best to keep Drake’s life as a former sentinel a secret for now.

  The shape-changing mage seemed to consider, though some of the anger had left her expression. “If there is truly a One god,” she said at last, sighing. “They must have a grim sense of humor.”

  “I think so, too,” Milo replied.

  Echina crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “I shall accept your aid – until we are free of this place. After that, you and your hemie friends are on your own.”

  “How kind of you,” Flint drawled.

  Milo ignored her. “Trust goes both ways,” he said, bowing once. “We accept your help, too.”

  He thought the mage would scoff at him, but she merely shrugged, as if his words were a foregone conclusion. He glanced at the keys, and then began to pry the iron ring apart so that he could pull two free. “Here,” he said as he handed them to Mage Sadira. “The smaller one’s for your collars. The bigger one’s for the bastion gates.”

  She accepted both. “What of Kali? Can you free her?”

  Milo glanced at his sister, who gave a single, small nod. “Aye, we’ll free her and Drake.”

  “And the mages and Sufani imprisoned with them,” Echina said, startling the sentinels.

  “What do you know of that?” Flint asked.

  Echina only stared at her. Milo held up one hand. “We’ll free all of them, too.” How, he didn’t know. They couldn’t exactly stroll down there, unlock the cells, and let everyone out. Talon would have every able-bodied sentinel waiting for them. Milo wasn’t sure which was worse: the fact that so few sentinels were fit to fight, or that he was even considering fighting any of his fellow brothers and sisters in service. “But the rest will be up to you,” he added.