Mage Slave
Page 64
The world whirled and went dark.
13
Rescue
Out of nowhere, Miara felt an unusual pang in her shoulder. It was not the typical twisting or burning, and she couldn’t remember such a feeling ever before. It was almost like ice or mint—like menthol on a cut, a burning, stinging, icy sensation, but not altogether unpleasant. She did not know what to make of it. She had never felt anything but pain or a lack thereof from it, and suddenly this.
But it was only for a moment and then gone.
She felt colder now. This forest was a strange one. At first, when night had fallen, she’d felt sure that the days and nights were growing colder, toward winter. But then she had started to feel warmer and warmer till she’d had to shed her cloak because she’d started sweating. Now the air felt icy again. Was she going mad?
Perhaps she was sick. This had certainly been a far more demanding mission than most, and riding all night wasn’t helping anything.
She couldn’t believe they were almost back. Shouldn’t she just get this over with? How much longer could she draw out this pain without going mad? Might as well get back to her horrible life knowing that she had given the Masters one of the best men she had ever known. Might as well start accepting that all her magic was only good for punishing innocent, honorable men.
Could this really be the Way of Things? Was there really any justice, any Balance in the world? If there were, then Aven would have run away from her. If there were, the gods would have given her an ugly face to make him want to run away. If there were, mages wouldn’t be slaves in the first place.
Predictably, her shoulder ached at the thought, but weakly. Perhaps it was as tired as she was, or sick along with her. She would have to get checked out as soon as they arrived back and the Masters were through with her. Assuming they were ever through with her. She snorted quietly at the thought. It didn’t matter; she was alone anyway.
Or was she?
Sorin dozed on his horse, and Aven had been well incapacitated by the idiot. She felt her rage bubble up again at the thought; she could have killed Sorin. But there was something else. She had the sudden sense of someone watching her, somewhere in the shadows. Was someone there?
Noises in the woods always spooked people in the middle of the night. But that was partially because sometimes there was something there.
To her left, there had been a few too many cracked branches, whooshes, leaves falling. Like there was someone—or something—following them alongside the road.
She swept her mind out toward the noises, targeted at first and then sweeping more broadly. If there was a bear or a wolf, she could dissuade them.
She felt nothing at all.
But promptly, another twig snapped. Whatever it was, it was still there.
“Damn it, Sorin,” she snapped. “Wake the hell up. You were the one that wanted to ride all night. You’re going to be up with me while we do it.”
He jumped—surprised at his own slumber—blinked, and rubbed his eyes. He glanced around, trying to rouse himself.
“How long was I out?”
“Do you hear that?”
He, too, bent his ear to listen now, and there was only the sound of the horses and Aven’s light breathing to interfere.
There was nothing now. Perhaps whatever was following them had heard her. Or perhaps it was all in her head.
“No,” he said. “I don’t hear anything. You woke me up for that?”
He shook his head and looked away from her, gazing around as if they were on a scenic pleasure ride through the hills.
She heard another branch crack to the left of her a little too late. Before she could even turn her head to investigate, a dark, heavy form collided with her shoulder. Claws aimed at her eyes missed but dug into her cheek instead, and she fell from the horse.
It was not possible—nothing had been there. Unless—
She didn’t have time to really think, for whatever was on top of her was royally shredding her left forearm as she tried to block it from getting to her face and throat.
A blast of icy air sent the creature toppling off her, and Miara rolled to her hands and knees, scrambling away from her attacker. A ball of flame the size of her head flew past her left.
Damn, Sorin was deadly serious. But perhaps still not enough—suddenly her back leg was caught by something, then her wrists. Vines coiled around them as she heard a snarl from behind.
Mages. Of course.
It was indeed not possible for her to have missed animals following them in the woods. She had not been mistaken; it had been creature mages instead.
“Akarians!” she cried. Sorin’s confused look melted away, and he quickly cast another strong gust at the animal, knocking it off the road. Then he made a broad gesture, laying down a wall of fire that licked fiercely and frighteningly up at the edge of the trees. Two more growling creatures lunged from the forest’s edge, then another. Wolves, or mages in that form.
“How?” he demanded as he continued to beat them back with thrusts of air. The flame wall grew. She could smell the storm he called in the air. With every gust that knocked one back, another wolf charged forward. She fought to uproot or unspell the vines entangling her. She could see they were going for Sorin’s ankles as well.
“I don’t know!” she called back. She’d thought after losing the Devoted, no one could have tracked them this far. Although Sorin had found them, he’d had the help of the horses.
Sorin twisted the air around them to form some makeshift barrier. He thrust his arms straight out at shoulder height and spun once, twice, coating the air wall in a fiery, sparking blaze. She gave up on ripping the roots and simply began transforming her feet and hands to slip through the vine’s grasp. Freed, she ran to Aven’s horse, Cora. It’s all right, girl. Unlike Kres, she had not seen much magic before, and Miara could feel her panic rising.
“Why now?” he yelled over the din of the wind he was raising.
“We’re nearing the Akarian border?”
Sorin nodded sharply. “I’d say we’re across it. We are almost certainly in Kavanar now! Can you sense it? The bond grows stronger.”
She actually could not sense it but didn’t feel a need to point it out. She hadn’t noticed much of a decrease when she’d traveled into Akaria, either, so perhaps she just wasn’t as sensitive as he. She stroked Cora’s nose and mane and stole a stroke of Aven’s hair and cheek out of Sorin’s sight. He was still out cold.
13
Rescue
Out of nowhere, Miara felt an unusual pang in her shoulder. It was not the typical twisting or burning, and she couldn’t remember such a feeling ever before. It was almost like ice or mint—like menthol on a cut, a burning, stinging, icy sensation, but not altogether unpleasant. She did not know what to make of it. She had never felt anything but pain or a lack thereof from it, and suddenly this.
But it was only for a moment and then gone.
She felt colder now. This forest was a strange one. At first, when night had fallen, she’d felt sure that the days and nights were growing colder, toward winter. But then she had started to feel warmer and warmer till she’d had to shed her cloak because she’d started sweating. Now the air felt icy again. Was she going mad?
Perhaps she was sick. This had certainly been a far more demanding mission than most, and riding all night wasn’t helping anything.
She couldn’t believe they were almost back. Shouldn’t she just get this over with? How much longer could she draw out this pain without going mad? Might as well get back to her horrible life knowing that she had given the Masters one of the best men she had ever known. Might as well start accepting that all her magic was only good for punishing innocent, honorable men.
Could this really be the Way of Things? Was there really any justice, any Balance in the world? If there were, then Aven would have run away from her. If there were, the gods would have given her an ugly face to make him want to run away. If there were, mages wouldn’t be slaves in the first place.
Predictably, her shoulder ached at the thought, but weakly. Perhaps it was as tired as she was, or sick along with her. She would have to get checked out as soon as they arrived back and the Masters were through with her. Assuming they were ever through with her. She snorted quietly at the thought. It didn’t matter; she was alone anyway.
Or was she?
Sorin dozed on his horse, and Aven had been well incapacitated by the idiot. She felt her rage bubble up again at the thought; she could have killed Sorin. But there was something else. She had the sudden sense of someone watching her, somewhere in the shadows. Was someone there?
Noises in the woods always spooked people in the middle of the night. But that was partially because sometimes there was something there.
To her left, there had been a few too many cracked branches, whooshes, leaves falling. Like there was someone—or something—following them alongside the road.
She swept her mind out toward the noises, targeted at first and then sweeping more broadly. If there was a bear or a wolf, she could dissuade them.
She felt nothing at all.
But promptly, another twig snapped. Whatever it was, it was still there.
“Damn it, Sorin,” she snapped. “Wake the hell up. You were the one that wanted to ride all night. You’re going to be up with me while we do it.”
He jumped—surprised at his own slumber—blinked, and rubbed his eyes. He glanced around, trying to rouse himself.
“How long was I out?”
“Do you hear that?”
He, too, bent his ear to listen now, and there was only the sound of the horses and Aven’s light breathing to interfere.
There was nothing now. Perhaps whatever was following them had heard her. Or perhaps it was all in her head.
“No,” he said. “I don’t hear anything. You woke me up for that?”
He shook his head and looked away from her, gazing around as if they were on a scenic pleasure ride through the hills.
She heard another branch crack to the left of her a little too late. Before she could even turn her head to investigate, a dark, heavy form collided with her shoulder. Claws aimed at her eyes missed but dug into her cheek instead, and she fell from the horse.
It was not possible—nothing had been there. Unless—
She didn’t have time to really think, for whatever was on top of her was royally shredding her left forearm as she tried to block it from getting to her face and throat.
A blast of icy air sent the creature toppling off her, and Miara rolled to her hands and knees, scrambling away from her attacker. A ball of flame the size of her head flew past her left.
Damn, Sorin was deadly serious. But perhaps still not enough—suddenly her back leg was caught by something, then her wrists. Vines coiled around them as she heard a snarl from behind.
Mages. Of course.
It was indeed not possible for her to have missed animals following them in the woods. She had not been mistaken; it had been creature mages instead.
“Akarians!” she cried. Sorin’s confused look melted away, and he quickly cast another strong gust at the animal, knocking it off the road. Then he made a broad gesture, laying down a wall of fire that licked fiercely and frighteningly up at the edge of the trees. Two more growling creatures lunged from the forest’s edge, then another. Wolves, or mages in that form.
“How?” he demanded as he continued to beat them back with thrusts of air. The flame wall grew. She could smell the storm he called in the air. With every gust that knocked one back, another wolf charged forward. She fought to uproot or unspell the vines entangling her. She could see they were going for Sorin’s ankles as well.
“I don’t know!” she called back. She’d thought after losing the Devoted, no one could have tracked them this far. Although Sorin had found them, he’d had the help of the horses.
Sorin twisted the air around them to form some makeshift barrier. He thrust his arms straight out at shoulder height and spun once, twice, coating the air wall in a fiery, sparking blaze. She gave up on ripping the roots and simply began transforming her feet and hands to slip through the vine’s grasp. Freed, she ran to Aven’s horse, Cora. It’s all right, girl. Unlike Kres, she had not seen much magic before, and Miara could feel her panic rising.
“Why now?” he yelled over the din of the wind he was raising.
“We’re nearing the Akarian border?”
Sorin nodded sharply. “I’d say we’re across it. We are almost certainly in Kavanar now! Can you sense it? The bond grows stronger.”
She actually could not sense it but didn’t feel a need to point it out. She hadn’t noticed much of a decrease when she’d traveled into Akaria, either, so perhaps she just wasn’t as sensitive as he. She stroked Cora’s nose and mane and stole a stroke of Aven’s hair and cheek out of Sorin’s sight. He was still out cold.
