Wayward Magic (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 2)

by Melinda Kucsera

  “The legion,” he managed in a shredded voice, “was sent to surround your army at its camp. The fight…just a lure to bring you here.”

  “An ambush?” Drokeh’s grip tightened. “And your kind joined them?”

  “Controlled,” he rasped, “with our true names.”

  “Where—” The king’s eyes shifted over his shoulder. He swore. Dragging Simith down with him, he lifted the fallen shield. Three successive thumps slammed against it. Arrows.

  “Those weren’t aimed for me.” Drokeh slid an assessing glance his way. He turned to his people’s side of the arena, raising a hand to signal. It froze halfway. He tore the veil from his eyes. “What are they doing?” he bellowed as a battle cry went up.

  Trolls surged along the stone ring. The fairies scrambled to meet them, blades crashing. More arrows whizzed past. Simith’s vision cleared along with his thoughts. They had to find cover. In the arena, they had nothing but his cracked shield. He coiled into a crouch alongside the troll king, ready to spring away as soon as he knew which direction to go.

  “My king,” someone shouted. A troll cleared the stones in a swift leap. Flanked by two archers who sent volley after volley from their bows, she carried a shield twice the size of Simith’s. Moonlight slid across its metal surface. He smelled iron.

  “General Seshi,” Drokeh growled as they arrived. “Explain this.”

  “The fairies have double crossed us, Sire,” she said, not all breathless despite her sprint. Seshi positioned her body and the shield to protect her king, though she spared a sneer for Simith. “This fight was nothing more than a distraction. They’ve sent their forces to surround our army where its camped.” She smirked, lambent eyes scanning their enemies. “Where they think we’re camped, anyway.”

  Simith tipped his head back in relief. A false camp. Brilliant. What a shame he couldn’t be there when Lord Jarrah learned how foolish he’d been to underestimate his enemy. Sheer luck alone would not have kept the Twilight Grotto out of their hands for a hundred years.

  “The decoy tents won’t give our soldiers much time to evade them. If they sent the entire legion, they’ll be thick as fleas out there.”

  “I’ve already sent the ravens to advise our army to pull back to protect our borders.”

  “Good.” Drokeh frowned. “How did you learn of this? I’ve only just heard myself.”

  “It came by a strange source.” Seshi’s mouth twisted, and she gestured with some impatience. “We have to leave, my king. The few troops here with us can only buy a little time for our escape.” She turned the flame of her gaze on Simith. Her broad blade appeared in her hand. “Permit me to dispatch this mongrel before departing.”

  Simith tensed, but Drokeh pushed her arm back. “He comes.”

  “But Sire, you can’t truly believe this one desires peace.”

  “His masters went to the trouble of gagging him with a powerful geas. I’ll hear what the enemy of my enemy has to say.” He stood, relieving her of the shield. “Bring him.”

  Chapter Eight

  Jessa nibbled on a fingernail while she stood next to the trolls’ covered wagon, and tried not to look at the monstrous black bear harnessed to it. With armor plating its sides and head, she suspected the animal served as both a weapon and a beast of burden. Despite the sounds of battle in the near distance, it sat unconcerned in the dark while she jumped as easily as a taut wire. Tucked behind this small hill, she couldn’t see what was going on and hadn’t yet determined if she was glad for it or not. She wouldn’t be of much use out there, but not knowing was somehow worse.

  Relle and Katie had gone to retrieve the grass horses. After the troll guards rushed them away from the arena, Relle had balked at the wagon. In the light of the single torch they carried, Jessa spotted the metal framework. Iron, most likely, given the queasy look Relle gave it. She’d managed to convince their guards to let her and Katie retrieve their horses. That had prompted a strange look from the trolls—maybe pookas didn’t ride horses here?—but they’d merely agreed, eager to return to the fight underway.

  Waiting alone, Jessa paced alongside the strange conveyance. Framed like a metal ribcage on spiked wheels, it was covered in a grey canvas mottled like stone, but flexible. When she’d pressed her fingers against the rough exterior, it gave. The whole thing brought to mind a portable cave—including the bear. Shining her torch inside from one end, the light revealed mats covering the floor, tightly woven in labyrinthine patterns of black and white.

  She resumed pacing. The clash of battle continued and a horrendous death wail made her jump. It didn’t sound like Simith, but every cry reminded her of the moment the troll king had stabbed him in the throat. They’d managed to convince the trolls’ outer guard to allow them to speak with their leader. General Seshi. An imposing figure of fang and muscle, Jessa had been grateful for Relle’s steady nerves as her friend explained the legion’s movements, and the fairies’ attempt to kill Simith before he could reach the peace meeting. General Seshi returned their claims with skeptical silence.

  Then the roar from the crowd turned Jessa’s attention back to the fight. It wasn’t fear for her own life that made her scream Simith’s name. Impaled by a black spike, his body shuddered, agony written all over his face. It was like watching the murder of a friend. If not for the trolls’ general blocking her path, she might have rushed out there.

  “A twilight diamond cannot take a life,” the general had growled. “It is a healing stone. Magic made solid.”

  “But you—we have conduits for healing,” she’d said, barely remembering to refer to herself as part of this world.

  “Some curses and hexes are more powerful than our own magic.”

  No sooner had she explained than the troll king set Simith back on his feet and removed the spike. The relief had almost stolen her breath, and she rubbed her face at the memory.

  The bear rumbled in warning. Jessa paused her pacing at the far side of the wagon. The shadow of the animal’s bulk shifted as it stood. The noise of battle had grown louder. Coming this way? Had Simith made it out of the arena alive? She glanced down at herself. If he died, how long would it take for her to feel it?

  She pushed dire thoughts away and unsheathed Simith’s knife. The magic practically yanked her forward just as a lone figure came before the bear, hands held down, a sword gripped in one. The mutter of a word she couldn’t make out calmed the animal and it sat again with a disgruntled huff. She shouldn’t have been able to distinguish his identity, still steeped in shadow, but she did. Those shoulders. That stance. She knew them too well from her dreams.

  “Simith!”

  The figure turned, the sword rising. Sighting her, he stopped short. Still beyond the reach of her torch, she couldn’t see his face, but she sensed his shock.

  “Jessa?” came the astonished reply.

  He broke into a jog without sheathing his sword. When the light touched him, the bloody streaks on his armor alarmed her again, but he moved as though they didn’t trouble him. He looked exhausted. And pleased, so pleased to see her. It sent a warm flutter through her stomach, especially when he came in close and clasped her hand.

  “How can you be here?” he marveled. His eyes rose to her bunny ears and back down. He smiled faintly. “You’re a pooka again.”

  “Oh.” She ran a hand over one velvety stalk. “I needed a disguise, but now I wish I could get rid of it. Who knew glamour would be so itchy? I probably have a rash under here.”

  She winced. Why was she talking about rashes two seconds after finding him?

  Fortunately, amusement sparkled in his brown eyes. “That is doubtful.” He reached up and brushed his thumb gently over her cheeks. “Keep your ears hidden, and none will be the wiser.” With his touch, the irritating glamour fell away. Not that she’d notice it anymore, her skin preoccupied with other sensations.

  “Why did you come?” He sobered, glancing behind him. “It’s not safe here. Your family will fear for your abse
nce.”

  Jessa twitched backward, startled by the comment. She swallowed. “I guess you haven’t seen the full story yet.”

  “Full story?” Simith blinked in confusion. Awareness crept into his gaze. He looked down at her hand in his and a flush rose on his cheeks. He released her. “Forgive me. I…My dreams have been strange of late.”

  “That’s why I’m here. We—”

  Something flashed past, nicking her upper arm. Simith reacted faster than the pain. He grabbed her, and spun them behind the back of the wagon. The bear roared, eliciting a startled squawk from their attacker. Her torch lay on the ground where they’d stood, flames struggling wildly against the dirt. The pain arrived, hot on her skin, and she flinched.

  Simith’s features hardened. “Stay here.” He gripped her shoulder briefly before disappearing around the opposite side of the wagon.

  Jessa touched her arm, her sleeve ripped and wet. Blood came away on her fingers, but she was lucky. It looked like just a graze. The archer had probably been aiming for Simith. There came a muffled shriek nearby. Simith reappeared a moment later. Jessa tried not to look at the dark stain on the blade of his sword.

  “How badly are you hurt?” He examined her wound, mouth set with worry.

  “It’s not bad,” she said. “We can deal with it later.”

  He nodded reluctantly. “The battle has moved to the other side of this hill. I was separated from my escort on our way here. I need to free myself from these leathers. They’re pinning my wings beneath.”

  Jessa lifted the knife still clenched in her fist. “I can do it.”

  His brows lifted in recognition. “Ah, so this is how you found me. Clever.”

  Shouts came from far too close, weapons clanging. Simith moved closer, his body a wall shielding hers. He didn’t look at her, eyes scanning the shadows. “Cut the straps. I will guard us.”

  The leathers looked uniformly smooth over his chest. She had no idea where to find the straps. Maybe the armor was belted on. Her hand went to his waist, fingers seeking along the line of his hip. His breath hiccupped.

  “Not there.” Without ever dropping his gaze from their surroundings, he took her hand and guided it to the buckles at his side. “Here.”

  “Right. Sorry.” She wedged the blade between the highest straps, flicking a look at him. “Ticklish, I take it?”

  “Very.”

  She pinched her lips against a smile as the first buckle came free. “And not afraid to admit it.”

  “A wise knight confronts his weaknesses.”

  “Unless it’s an aversion to cabbage. Then it seems you run for cover.”

  He snorted. “That’s self-preservation. Cabbage is vile.” His eyes lowered to hers, his brow furrowing. “How do you know this?” He tilted his head. “You don’t like rice. Is that true?”

  She nodded stiffly, reaching for the next strap.

  Simith continued in a wondering tone. “You pen your words with your left hand. Walks in the breeze inspire you, and you eat something called pandesal with coffee every morning.”

  “Yes.”

  “How do I know that? Why do I see you in all my dreams? Jessa,” a strained note entered his voice. “Why do I feel like I know you better than I should?”

  She severed the last buckle. The leathers slid free. Small lacerations littered his ribs and chest, but they appeared mostly healed already. The raven feather of his conduit tattoo burned emerald green over his heart.

  “Because those aren’t dreams,” she told him quietly. “They’re my memories.”

  His eyes widened, but the clomp of hoofbeats cut off any reply he might’ve made. He twisted away from her, his dragon-fly wings lending him a boost of speed as he rounded the wagon. He lowered his blade as soon as he spotted those approaching.

  He glanced at Jessa. “You didn’t mention others accompanied you.”

  Relle and Katie came into view and reined to a halt on their steeds of vines and leaves.

  “We’ve got our chia pets,” Katie announced. “They were munching on grass when we reached them. Does that count as cannibalism?”

  Simith shook his head at Relle, and didn’t appear fooled by the pooka glamour. “You must be mad indeed to have come into this world. Did you give no thought to the danger of the curse?”

  “I gave it a thought, yes.” Her brow creased as eyed Jessa pressed back against the wagon. “Are you hurt?”

  She touched her arm. “Nothing a little disinfectant and a bandage won’t fix.”

  “We’ll get you to urgent care. Now that you found each other we can head back.”

  Simith glanced between them. “Why were you looking for me?”

  “We came to rescue you, pixie-boy,” Katie sniffed. “So, more gratitude and less sass. It’s your fault we had to come in the first place.”

  “Katie,” Jessa said sharply.

  “Well, it is.”

  “Discuss this later.” Relle waved Jessa over. “The fairies had to spring their trap early, so the trolls’ army might get away, but the king’s little contingent is definitely outnumbered here. He and his small group are already cornered. We have to get out of here while we can.”

  Simith took a step forward. “Cornered where?”

  She waved a hand behind her. “On the other side of this hill behind a rise of boulders. You can’t go there to help them,” she bit out when he shifted that direction, moving her horse to block his path. “Your fate is tied to Jessa’s. There’s no time for all the details, but if you die, so will she.”

  Simith’s gaze snapped to her. She nodded in confirmation and the color leached from his face. He cast a helpless look toward the hill.

  “The king used the fight as a ruse.” Bleakness filled his eyes. “He came to hear my bid for peace. He spared my life. Now, he and his people will die for it.”

  The obvious blame he cast on himself pained her. He already believed himself beyond redemption. She couldn’t bear to see that belief reconfirmed in his mind, not when he’d tried so hard. Nor could she imagine simply going home, leaving the trolls to be butchered.

  “What if we distracted them?” she offered. “Maybe draw some of the fairies away so the trolls can fight their way free.”

  “And do what afterward?” Katie asked. “Even if we knew how to distract their enemies, they’ll just track them down, won’t they? There’s nowhere to go.”

  Relle’s hands tightened on her reins. “She’s right. We should stick to our original plan and make for the doorway.”

  “The troll army has been redirected to their borders. The legion will follow,” Simith told her. “You’ll be cut off from the Jaded Grove, even if they decide against a direct engagement.”

  Jessa’s mouth went dry. They couldn’t get home. They were trapped here.

  Fighting echoed in the night, a reminder of the encroaching danger and the lives cut down with every passing moment.

  “There is a place I could lead us all,” Simith said then. “We would be hidden from the fairies.” He shook his head. “Though I have no answer for covering our tracks. We’d be pursued, if not run down outright.”

  “No, we won’t.” Relle waved a hand and Katie yelped, leaping down as her horse unraveled into a pile of leaves. Their glamour disappeared with it.

  “What are you doing?” Katie demanded.

  “Which direction will you take them?” Relle addressed Simith.

  He pointed. “East, along the Thousand Rivers.”

  Toward the moorlands. Jessa realized his intention. She stared at him, astounded. Surely, he didn’t mean to take them there.

  “Okay.” She motioned to Katie and Jessa. “You two, take the wagon and start heading that way. I’ll arrange a distraction so Simith can reach the trolls and send them after you.” Her eyes scanned the wagon. “I’m guessing they brought this thing because the iron deflects magical attacks. Once you’re far enough, I’ll make sure the fairies can’t follow.”

  “How?” Katie reach
ed up to grab her arm. “Magic? You’re already using too much.”

  “I swore I wouldn’t see you hurt again.” She put her palm to Katie’s bruised cheek. “I won’t break my word.”

  Katie’s face twisted with fear. She covered Relle’s hand with her own. “If that’s true, then promise to come back. You have to.” Her voice choked. “There are things I need to tell you. I should’ve already said them. I shouldn’t have been so mad.”

  Relle gazed on her with such deep affection, Jessa’s throat tightened.

  “I promise to come back,” she said softly. “I would promise you anything.”

  Katie’s smile wobbled. “You’d better.”

  She stepped away as Relle wheeled her horse about. “Simith, help them in and hurry after me.”

  Simith turned to Jessa as Relle headed off. He gave her a boost into the back of the wagon. “The bear will follow your direction. She senses ally from foe, but keep your instructions simple.”

  “You’re taking them to Hollow Hill, aren’t you?” The sanctuary his people fled to after the trolls burned their hamlets. She could scarcely believe he meant to offer it to them. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Their king asked for my trust,” he answered, reaching for Katie who ignored his hand, her face pinched with dread as she climbed in by herself.

  “And do you trust him?”

  He shook his head.

  “Then why?”

  “Because if I don’t give him the chance to earn it,” his wings rustled as they lifted him up, “there will never be peace between us.”

  Chapter Nine

  From a tactical standpoint, the trolls’ position couldn’t have been any worse. Movement was key in battle. To be cornered in a stationary position equaled death, which was exactly the situation Simith encountered when he reached the top of the hill and looked down. They were fortunate the pixies had been deployed with the legion. That crowd of boulders the trolls sheltered behind didn’t offer any cover from above.