Mistress of the Wind (Arucadi Series Book 1)

by E. Rose Sabin

  Reluctantly Marta returned the new cloak to the rack. Walking to a nearby glass case, she beckoned Kyla. “Look here,” she said. “We can use these.”

  Kyla joined her at the case and saw that it displayed fine hunting knives.

  “You can’t.” Master Stebbins limped toward them, waving his fists in the air. “Indentured servants are forbidden to carry weapons.”

  “We’ve unindentured ourselves,” Marta reminded him, grinning. To Kyla she said, “If the journey’s dangerous, we’ll need these to protect ourselves.”

  Kyla nodded and tried the case. Finding it locked, she looked for something to use to break the glass. Claid stood on tiptoe, tapped on the case, and it sprang open.

  Kyla selected a hunting knife similar to the one Alair had ruined, while Marta chose a wicked-looking dagger. Master Stebbins lunged forward and tried to slam the case shut. Marta pointed the dagger at his throat. He backed away, and she followed, pressing the point against his Adam’s apple. “I think you’d better treat us with kindness and respect, Master Stebbins. It would give me great joy to slit your skinny throat.”

  Trembling, he remained leaning against the wall to which he’d backed and said not another word.

  Kyla and Marta finished gathering supplies and tins of food for the journey. The store stocked all they needed, including backpacks. They sorted through the supplies and divided them, with one pack holding five books and the other six. Kyla objected that she should carry them all, since they were hers, but Marta said a pack that heavy would only slow her down.

  With everything ready, they picked up blankets and looked for the stairs to Master Stebbins’ living quarters, which Marta said were above the store. They found them at the back of a storeroom cluttered with bins, tins, wooden boxes, rags, and small tools. Marta grabbed up a coil of rope as they led Master Stebbins through the debris to the stairway.

  Kyla’s heart sank when she saw the crowded, cheerless living area. An iron stove, a table with two straight chairs, a chest of drawers, and one narrow bed took up almost all the space in the single room. A rag rug covered the bare floor by the stove.

  Kyla made Master Stebbins lie on the bed, and Marta used the rope she’d found to tie him to the bedposts. She pressed her knife to his chest. “Don’t dare shout or try to get loose,” she said. “I don’t need much of a reason to stab you.”

  Could Marta really do such a thing? Master Stebbins seemed to have no doubt. He remained quiet, allowing them to talk.

  Claid curled up on the rug and fell asleep sucking his thumb. Kyla spread a blanket over him while Marta stuffed wood from the woodbin into the stove. The fire slowly spread warmth through the room. A kettle of water on the stovetop inspired Marta to hunt some tea and prepare a supper of tea and crackers.

  When the water began to boil, they sat at the table and Kyla poured the tea.

  “At last!” Marta leaned forward, cup in hand, a wreath of steam circling her face. In a conspiratorial whisper she said, “Tell me about Claid.”

  Kyla feigned ignorance while she considered how to answer. “What do you mean? What about him?”

  Marta frowned and set her cup in its saucer. “You know what I mean. What is he, some kind of genius?”

  Still stalling, Kyla sipped her tea. She had no idea what to tell Marta about Claid. The girl would never believe the truth.

  The hardness and suspicion settling on Marta’s features decided her. Marta might reject the truth, but she would quickly recognize a falsehood. It was best to be honest and face Marta’s reaction, whatever it was.

  “He isn’t a child at all,” Kyla said in a whisper, glancing at Master Stebbins. “I don’t know what he is.” Her hands cradling the teacup for its heat, she told Marta the whole story of the mindstealers, Alair, and her flight into Rim Canyon.

  When she finished, Marta shook her head, her expression disbelieving. “Windspeakers, wind riding, mindstealers, mages—I’d say you were completely crazy but for Claid. No normal baby could have taken off our shackles and helped us control Master Stebbins, so there must be some truth to your story. I don’t care how dangerous you say the trip is, I’m going.”

  “I’m telling you the truth, Marta. And I must also tell you that I don’t for one minute believe the story about valuable secrets hidden in my books. I know those books, and—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Marta interrupted. “I want to see this valley, this place of magic. And I want to meet your mage.”

  “He’s not my mage.” Thinking of Alair, Kyla finished her tea without tasting it. Marta’s cough called her back to their conversation. “We’ll start together, at least. I think you’ll change your mind when you see Rim Canyon.”

  “Don’t bet on it,” Marta said, her jaw set in a firm line.

  Kyla sighed. “If we’re to start out early tomorrow, we’d better get some sleep.”

  They wrapped themselves in blankets from the store’s best new merchandise and slept on the rug beside Claid.

  They slumbered longer than they had intended, waking about an hour after dawn. By the time they dressed, ate breakfast, and donned their heavy packs, the town was astir, its shops and businesses opening for the day. With no hope of getting through town unseen, they decided to take Master Stebbins along as a hostage. Otherwise, he could raise an alarm to set the sheriff and his men after them. They’d leave him at the canyon’s edge and let him make his way back to town on his own. But they dared not parade him through town bound; he had to appear their master.

  “Claid, can you put that spell of silence back on him?” Kyla asked. “We’ll be caught if he shouts out.”

  “If he carry me,” he said, pointing insistently at Master Stebbins. His ability to speak had improved greatly overnight.

  “I’ll have nothing to do with that vicious brat,” the shopkeeper said, backing away from Claid.

  Kyla made a canvas sling for Claid to ride in and hung it around Master Stebbins’ neck, while Marta overcame the shopkeeper’s objections by holding her knife to his throat. They were fortunate that Master Stebbins was a cowardly man.

  When Claid had settled into the sling, he placed his small hand on Master Stebbins’ throat. Not only was the man rendered mute, but he also became more tractable, obeying their every command and thus allowing them to do away with the chain and shackles.

  Kyla and Marta walked a couple of paces behind Master Stebbins, their heads bowed, their postures submissive enough to satisfy the curious stares of those they passed. One or two men greeted Master Stebbins, and he nodded and smiled in response. Fortunately, none stopped to talk, and his silence failed to arouse curiosity.

  Kyla’s big worry was that they might encounter the mysterious customer whose desire for the missing book had brought their good fortune and who could reverse that fortune, but they reached the outskirts of town without incident.

  When they put the last of Line’s End’s ramshackle buildings behind them, Marta let out a whoop of joy. Kyla felt free only when they crossed the parallel iron rails. As they continued through the barren wasteland that lay between town and canyon, a distant whistle seemed to bid her farewell. The colorless wind seemed less unfriendly as they tramped onward; it puffed at their backs, hurrying them on their way.

  Kyla hoped not to meet any other travelers in the wilderness, but a dark figure appeared in the distance, coming from the direction of the canyon. As the traveler approached, walking with a slight limp, a black dog detached itself from his side and bounded toward her.

  Barking joyously, Ruffian leaped on her, licked her face, and decorated her cloak with sandy paw prints. She hugged him, ruffled his fur, and let her genuine delight at seeing him mask the irrational joy that rushed through her when she recognized his tall companion.

  “Down! Down!” cried Claid, squirming in his sling.

  Kyla pushed the dog away, lifted Claid from the carrier, and set him on the ground. He patted Ruffian’s head. “Good dog,” he said.

  A loud exclama
tion of dismay from Master Stebbins told them that the spell of silence had faded. The shopkeeper fell to his knees and raised clasped hands. “Please, sir, help me. I freed this worthless girl so she could get me the twelfth book, and the shameless slut deceived me. They’ve stolen the books and kidnapped me.”

  Mage Alair flung back his long black cloak and glared down at the miserable storekeeper. “‘That girl’ is the rightful owner of those books—and a valued friend of mine.”

  Valued friend! Had she heard correctly? Unable to restrain herself, Kyla threw her arms around him and hugged him. “Alair, I’ve dreamed you’d come for me.”

  He didn’t return her hug, but his hand lingered on her arm. “I’m sorry it took so long,” he said.

  “You—you’re in collaboration with this thief?” Master Stebbins face purpled. “Your offer to buy the books was only a ruse to free them and cheat me?”

  “Silence, worm!” Alair thundered. “You got no more than you deserve for purchasing stolen goods.”

  Despite herself, Kyla giggled. “You’re his client? You’re the one who offered to buy the books and concocted the story of the secret message?”

  “I am.” His eyes smiled into hers. “I’d been trying to find you, but my far-viewer showed nothing. I very much feared that mindstealers had— But Claid sent Ruffian to let me know you were in trouble. I’d hurt my leg, but I set out as soon as I could to rescue you.”

  Kyla remembered the accident in the lab—the one she’d been blamed for. She wanted to ask about it, but decided it was better to let it go. Instead she made a teasing attempt at arrogance. “I’m no longer in need of rescue.”

  “Now who’s ungrateful?” Alair scowled, but the corners of his mouth twitched with suppressed laughter. “Without the seed I sowed, you’d still be in the workhouse.”

  “If you knew where I was, why did you leave it to this miserable wretch to release me?” She no longer teased; the anger he always aroused flooded in.

  “I found your books in the wretch’s shop, but I didn’t learn where you were until a little over a week ago.” Alair sounded sincerely apologetic. “Please understand: I have to limit my presence here. The barrier that keeps the mindstealers locked in was already weakened. If I’d used power to find you, it would have weakened more. On this side of the Rim I can’t use my power, so I had to use this man’s greed to trick him into revealing your whereabouts. That gave me a link I could focus my power on and follow what was happening. Unfortunately I had to return home to do that.” The sadness in his voice and eyes quenched her anger.

  She might have succumbed to the sudden desire to throw herself into his arms had Claid not chosen that moment to take hold of Alair’s cloak with one hand, clutch Kyla’s cloak with the other, and announce, “Claid grow.”

  “No, not here! Fool, you can’t—” The rest of Alair’s rebuke was drowned by Marta’s scream, as Claid, bursting out of his clothes, shot to Kyla’s height.

  For no more than an eye-blink Kyla thought she saw not a human form but a bearded, horned, and goat-legged being. Then as a youth in his teens Claid stood naked and beautiful, the remnants of his child’s clothing scattered around him.

  Master Stebbins fainted.

  Marta gaped, her gaze feasting on his nude body. A different phenomenon captured Kyla’s attention. Around their little group a pale gold wind danced a merry welcome.

  Kyla lifted her voice in a song of greeting.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  THE BARRIER BREACHED

  Alair grabbed Kyla’s shoulders and shook her. “Not here! You mustn’t sing the wind here.”

  She wrenched free of his grip. “Why not?”

  He had already turned his face, dark with fury, to Claid. “You! You can’t take that form. Undo this damage.”

  “I can take this appearance,” Claid said with an insolent grin. “My mistress has made it possible. She didn’t like the other forms.”

  “I command you, she does not.” Alair glared in turn at Claid, Kyla, and, as if to leave no one out, at Marta.

  Marta responded with a saucy wink at Claid, who winked back and said to Alair, “Mistress Kyla has given me a degree of freedom you never allowed. And you did entrust me to her care.”

  “If the mindstealer and the baby were your ideas,” Kyla put in, “they weren’t good ones. I prefer Claid as he is now—but with clothes on.” She added the last, noticing Marta’s continued fascination with his well-endowed physique.

  “That’s because you don’t understand what he is or what these actions of his—and yours—will cause.”

  “I don’t understand because you never explain. You only make threats and pronouncements.”

  “This isn’t the time for explanations.” He glared at Claid. “Obey me! I won’t have my years of labor put in jeopardy.”

  “I’ll continue to serve you, but I will keep this form,” Claid said.

  “Rogue! I’ll show you what you may do.” At Alair’s rage the wind darkened, took on a reddish hue. The mage’s cloak billowed around him. Marta cringed and hid behind Kyla. Ruffian slunk off, tail between his legs, and cowered in a clump of leafless shrubs.

  Kyla focused on the mage’s display. He could affect the wind! Not with a song, as she did, not even consciously, she guessed. The wind was responding to his anger, but windspeaking was her gift, a woman’s talent. How could he—

  A scream interrupted her thoughts.

  Master Stebbins, recovered from his swoon, clambered to his feet. Wild-eyed, he screamed again and bolted for the city.

  The mage grabbed for Claid. “See what you’ve done. He’ll tell all he’s seen.”

  The lad ducked and jumped away. Kyla interposed herself between them. “Stop it! I won’t have this.”

  “Don’t interfere.” Alair picked her up, lifted her aside and lunged for Claid, caught him by the shoulders, and shook him, his fingers digging into that unblemished skin.

  He’s gone too far. Let him see who really controls the wind. Kyla sang out a clear, high appeal.

  The wind whipped around them. It plucked up the mage’s cape and swooped it over his head. He released Claid, but Kyla kept singing. All her anger, all the bitterness spawned by the harsh treatment she’d suffered in the workhouse poured into the wind until, fiery red, it caught up sand and rocks, pelted Alair, and drove him back, away from Claid. His hands shielding his face, Alair stumbled and fell to his knees, a whirlwind of sand and stones swirling around him.

  Whining, Ruffian nudged Kyla’s side with his nose. On her other side, Claid placed a hand on her arm. “Enough, mistress,” he said gently.

  Her song spun out one high, sustained note and ceased, her anger absorbed by the wind and drained away. The wind calmed, lightened to pink.

  Alair rose slowly to his feet and shook the sand from his cloak. Blood dotted his face and hands. He looked dazed.

  Kyla walked to him, touched his face, and wiped off the blood. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t want you to hurt Claid.”

  His eyes focused, met her gaze. He covered her hand with his. “You,” he said, “you’re magnificent!” For once there was no hint of sarcasm, no tinge of hauteur in his voice. Gently he pressed her fingers to his lips.

  “Alair, please.” Her hand slid to his chest. She was finding it strangely hard to breathe. “You must tell me the truth about Claid.”

  He sighed and drew away from her. “I will. But not here. Not now. We have to go back where we belong, and quickly. When we get there, I’ll explain.”

  She grasped his arms to keep him from walking away. “I deserve an explanation now, and I won’t budge from here until I get it.”

  “Kyla, we don’t have time. Claid’s use of magic—and yours—has done too much damage.”

  “Except for just now when he used it to grow, he only used power to free Marta and me and to get us safely out of Line’s End. How is that so terrible?”

  “All right, listen.” The mage, looking solemn, gaz
ed into her eyes. “Many power holders gave their lives to concentrate all mage power within the bounds of Rim Canyon and the Starmist Mountains. That concentration of power holds the mindstealers within those bounds. When power is used on this side of the canyon, it draws to it the power contained on the other side and creates a breach. I’m the only mage left with the strength to heal and maintain the barrier, and I can do it only from inside, not here on the far side of Rim Canyon. Already the mindstealers are on the move, prowling about in large numbers. They’ve never done that before. If they discover that breach before it’s closed, they’ll use it to escape into the larger land, and we’ll have no hope of destroying them. That’s why we can’t waste time here.”

  He turned and strode toward Claid. “Come, fetch the dog. We’re going home.” He turned to Marta. “You belong to this land; you can’t go with us.”

  Marta ran to Kyla and clutched her arm. “I won’t leave you. He can’t make me.”

  Marta’s words touched Kyla, though she doubted that it was loyalty that motivated the girl. She turned to Alair and said, “She can’t go back. Master Stebbins would have her flogged and returned to the workhouse.”

  Alair dug into a pouch on his belt, held out a handful of silver coins. “Here, these will buy you passage to a new town and a better life. Be content with that.”

  Marta ignored the coins. “I won’t be bought off,” she said. “And I won’t leave.”

  Claid stepped in front of Alair. “You were worried about the shopkeeper spreading tales,” he said. “Think what tales Marta can tell.”

  The mage scowled, but when Kyla stepped up beside Claid, his gaze softened. “I suppose you’re right. The damage is already done.” He put the coins back into his pouch. “Let’s be on our way.”

  “Before we go anywhere, Claid needs clothes.” Kyla took off her cloak, removed her pack, and pulled out the tunic and trousers she had brought for herself. Holding them out to Claid, she said, “I hope these fit.”