Magic Study

Leif and I had been walking downhill, and the trail ended at the market, which stood in a clearing at the edge of the jungle. The mammoth trees of the tropical forest no longer dominated the landscape. Beyond the clearing, I could see woodland that looked similar to the Snake Forest in Ixia.

“We’ll camp here tonight and leave at first light,” Leif said before heading toward one of the stands.

I had thought that with the setting of the sun, the market would close. Instead, a vast array of torches was lit, and business continued unabated. The sounds of bartering could be heard above the general buzz of a hundred or so customers talking, calling to children and hurrying from stand to stand carrying packages.

Some of the shoppers wore the familiar dress of the Zaltanas, but I also saw a number wearing green leggings and tunics that were the dress of the forest dwelling Cowan Clan. When we had traveled from Ixia, Irys had taught me to recognize the different clans by their clothing.

I also spotted a few women wearing the traditional shimmering silk pants, short beaded tops, and sheer veils of the Jewelrose Clan. The Jewelrose men even sported beads and jewels on their long tunics that hung down to the knees of their pants. When Irys had explained her clan’s customs to me, I couldn’t imagine Irys wearing anything but the simple linen shirt, pants and wide belt that she always donned.

I wandered through the market, marveling at the variety of goods available for sale. Practical items like food and clothing sat side by side with jewelry and handcrafts. A pine scent from the torches dominated, but it didn’t take long for me to discern the smell of roasting meat. I followed the mouthwatering aroma to a fire pit. A tall man covered with sweat spun the meat that sizzled in the flames. His white apron was streaked with soot. I bought some hot beef from him to eat right away and some smoked jerky for later.

Trying to ignore the pointed stares of the other shoppers, I searched the market for Fern’s stand, vowing to change into Nutty’s clothes as soon as I found some privacy. Soon a table piled high with bolts of cloth attracted my attention. As I looked through the prints, a small dark woman with large eyes peeked out from behind the collection.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“Are you Fern?”

Her eyes widened in alarm as she nodded.

“Nutty Zaltana sent me. Do you have any solid colors?”

From underneath the table, Fern pulled bolts of plain cloth and added them to the table. Together we matched up colors and patterns for three outfits.

“Are you sure you don’t want this Illiais print?” Fern held up a loud pink-and-yellow flowered pattern. “Solid colors are usually worn by the Zaltana men. This print is very popular with the girls.”

I shook my head. Just as I began to pay her for the cloth, I spotted a material that matched the colors of the forest. “Some of this, too,” I said, pointing to the green pattern. When we had settled up, I asked her to send the fabric to Nutty, but I found room for the forest print in my pack.

“Who should I say is sending it?” Fern asked; her quill poised above the parchment.

“Her cousin, Yelena.”

The quill froze in midair. “Oh, my,” she said. “The lost Zaltana child?”

I gave her a weary half smile. “Not lost, nor a child any longer.”

Strolling past a few more stands, I stopped at a table displaying statues of jungle creatures. They were constructed of small multicolored stones glued together. I selected a black-and-white valmur statue and bought it for Valek. Not quite sure how I would send it to him, I wrapped the gift in my new green fabric.

Campfires began to blaze behind the market. Commerce slowed as the shop owners rolled the bamboo shades down, closing their stands. Customers either headed into the surrounding forest or toward one of the camps. I spotted Leif seated next to one of the fires. He held a bowl in his lap while he talked to the three young Zaltana men seated near him. Through the shimmering air above the fire, I saw him smile and laugh. His whole face transformed in that instant. Scowl lines smoothed. Cheeks lifted, erasing the impact of his serious face and softening his square jaw. He looked ten years younger.

Remembering that Esau had said Leif had been eight when I was kidnapped, I realized now that my brother was only two years older than me. He was twenty-two instead of my original guess of thirty.

Without thought, I moved to join him. In a heartbeat, the merriment dropped from his face. He scowled with such fierceness that I stopped in my tracks. Where was I to sleep that night?

Someone touched my shoulder. I spun.

“You’re welcome to stay at my fire,” Fern said. She pointed to a small blaze behind her stand.

“Are you sure? I might be a spy from Ixia.” I tried to joke, but the words came out harsher than I had wanted.

“Then you can report to your Commander that I make the finest cloth of all the clans. And if he wants a new uniform made from my famous Illiais print, just have him send me an order.”

I laughed at the image of the impeccable Commander Ambrose draped in gaudy hot-pink and yellow flowers.

As the first rays of sunlight touched the straw roofs of the market, I waited for Leif to continue our journey. Fern had been a kind host, treating me to dinner and showing me where I could change in private. As it turned out Nutty was her best customer, supplying all the Zaltanas with clothes.

I fidgeted in the warm morning air, trying to get used to the extra fabric around my legs. The hem just covered the tops of my soft leather boots. Fern had assured me that my boots would blend in better once I reached the Citadel. Only the jungle and forest clans preferred mud between their toes.

Finally, Leif appeared. Refusing to acknowledge my presence, he started down a forest path. After a couple of hours, I grew tired of following him in silence. I pulled my bow and began executing blocks and jabs as I walked. I concentrated on the feel of the wood in my hands, setting my mind into that mental awareness that Irys had claimed was my way of tapping into the magical power source.

To practice control of the magic, I projected my awareness out. At first, I encountered a cold stone wall. Confused, I retreated until I realized the barrier was Leif’s mind; closed and unyielding. I shouldn’t have been surprised.

Skirting his presence, I sought the calm forest surrounding us. I crept with a chipmunk, looking for nuts. I froze with a young deer, hearing the sound of footsteps. My mind touched different creatures as I reached out. Gradually, I projected my awareness farther and farther away, seeing how far I could go.

Behind me, I could still feel the people at the market, five or six miles away. Thrilled, I pushed ahead to see if a town was close by. At first, I touched only more animals, but just as I was about to pull back, my mind touched a man.

Careful to avoid breaking the Ethical Code, I skimmed the surface of his mind. He was a hunter, waiting for prey, and he wasn’t alone. There were many men around him. They crouched in the bushes just off the trail. One sat on a horse with his weapon poised for an attack. I wondered what they hunted. Curiosity made me dip a little deeper into the man’s thoughts. An image of his prey appeared, snapping me back to my body.

I stopped.

I must have gasped, because Leif turned and stared at me. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

“The forest. Men.”

“Of course. The woods are full of game,” he explained as if talking to a simpleton.

“Not hunters. Ambushers. Waiting for us.”

5

“AMBUSHERS? DON’T BE ridiculous,” Leif said. Amazement colored his voice. “You’re not in Ixia anymore.”

“Why would a hunting party hide so close to the path?” I asked, ignoring his tone and hoping that logic would prevail.

“Animals use the forest trails. It’s easier than fighting through the underbrush.” Leif started to walk away. “Come on.”

“No. You’re leading us into a trap.”

“Fine. I’ll go without you.”

When he turned his back again, I was gripped with rage. “Do you think I’m lying?” The words growled from between my teeth.

“No. I think you’re suspicious of everything and everyone, just like a northerner.” His mouth twisted as if he wanted to spit.

“You think I’m a spy,” I snapped at him in frustration. “I’ll lower my defenses. Project your mind out and see for yourself that I’m not here to spy on Sitia.”

“I can’t read minds. In fact, no Zaltana can.”

I ignored the jab. “Can’t you at least sense who I am?”

“Physically you’re a Zaltana. But just because Irys claims you survived Mogkan’s efforts to wipe your mind doesn’t mean it’s true.” Leif pointed an accusing finger at me. “You could be a pawn, an empty vessel that has been provided with a northern host. What better way to have eyes and ears in the south?”

“Ridiculous.”

“No. It’s not. You’ve revealed yourself,” Leif said with a quiet intensity. Then his eyes dulled and turned vacant as if he peered into another world. “I taste strong loyalty and longing for Ixia emanating from you. You stink of blood and pain and death. Anger and passion and fire buzz around you like a haze.” His gaze refocused on me. “My sister would be reveling in her freedom, and wrapped with hatred for her captors. You have lost your soul to the north. You are not my sister. It would have been better if you had died than return to us tainted.”

I took a deep breath to calm the sudden fury that threatened to take control. “Wake up, Leif! What you dreamed of finding in the jungle didn’t factor in reality. I’m not that innocent six-year-old. I endured more than you can imagine and fought hard to keep my soul.” I shook my head. I was not going to explain myself to this stubborn fool. “I know who I am. Perhaps you need to reevaluate your expectations of me.”

We stood for a moment, glaring at each other. Finally, I said, “You’re walking into an ambush.”

“I’m walking to the Citadel. Are you coming?”

I weighed my options. If I used my grapple and rope to climb into the trees, I could travel through the forest canopy and move past the ambush while remaining near the trail. But what about Leif; my brother who acted like my enemy? He had his machete. Did he know how to use it in a fight?

What if he were injured in the ambush? It would be his own fault. We were brother and sister by blood alone, and I couldn’t imagine Leif and me ever being close. Still, a pang of regret touched my heart. Esau and Perl wouldn’t want to see Leif hurt. Then I realized Leif was a magician. Could he defend himself with his magic? I shook my head. I didn’t know enough about magic to even contemplate what could be done with it.

“I would have never guessed a hunting party could frighten a northerner away.” Leif laughed as he set off down the trail.

That did it. I unslung my backpack and found my switchblade. Cutting a small slit along the outer seam of my new pants, I strapped the thigh-holder to my leg. I pulled apart my single braid, and wrapped my hair up into a bun using my lock picks to hold it in place. Now dressed for a fight, I slipped my pack over one shoulder, and raced after Leif.

As I caught up with him, he gave me an amused grunt. With my five-foot bow in hand, I set my mind into my mental fighting zone. The zone was a concentration technique that allowed me to anticipate my opponent’s moves as I fought. This time, I focused on the trail ahead.

The men were poised and ready, six on each side of the road. I knew the instant they heard us, but they waited. They wanted to surround us, attacking only when we had walked into the middle of their group.

I had other plans. Just before we reached the ambush, I dropped my pack to the ground and called, “Wait up!”

Leif spun around. “What now?”

“I think I heard some—”

A shout filled the forest. Birds darted into the sky with a flurry of wings. Men exploded from the bushes with their swords in hand. But the element of surprise was mine. I knocked aside the swords of the first two men who rushed me. Slamming my bow hard against their temples, I sent them to the ground.

As a third man approached, I swept his feet out from under him. Two more men rushed me, I stepped up to engage them, but they jumped to the sides of the trail. My confusion lasted until I felt a deep rumbling through the soles of my boots. Looking up I saw a broad-chested horse charging down the path toward me. I dove out of the way just as a flash of steel bit into my upper left arm. Furious, I attacked the man closest to me, jabbing my bow into his nose. Blood gushed as he cried out in pain.

“Stop her,” the man on horseback ordered.

I searched for Leif. He stood in the middle of the road surrounded by four armed men. An astonished look creased his face, but otherwise he appeared unharmed. His machete lay at his feet.

Outnumbered, I had only seconds left. The horseman had turned his steed around, preparing for another charge. The man with the broken nose lay on the ground. I stood on his chest and threatened his neck with the end of my bow.

“Stop or I’ll crush his windpipe,” I yelled.

The young man halted his horse. But as the others backed away, staring at me in disbelief, he raised his sword into the air.

“Surrender or I’ll kill your brother,” he said.

How did he know Leif was my brother? I looked at Leif, considering. The point of a guard’s sword balanced mere inches from Leif’s heart. Fear had bleached my brother’s face. Served him right. The soldier under my feet wheezed.

I shrugged. “Seems we’re at an impasse,” I said to the horseman.

“Indeed.” He paused. “What say we stand down and discuss the situation?”

I began to agree when the rider snapped his fingers. I sensed movement, but before I could swing around, I heard a horrible thud, felt a crushing pain at the base of my skull, then nothing.

My head pulsed with pain as if someone were beating two mallets on the sides of my skull. I opened my eyes for a second, but squeezed them shut again. Bobbing brown hide filled my view, causing nausea. As I fought to keep the contents of my stomach in place, I realized I had been hung upside down and was being moved. I risked another peek and confirmed my suspicion that I had been thrown over the back of a horse. I vomited.

“She’s awake,” said a male voice.

Thank fate the horse stopped.

“Good. We’ll stop and make camp here,” said the horseman.

I felt a hard push in my side, and I dropped to the ground. A jolt shot through my body on impact. Stunned, all I could do was hope nothing had been broken.

As the sunlight faded, I heard the rustle of men working. When I tried to squirm into a more comfortable position, I started to panic. I couldn’t move very well. Then I recognized the familiar stomach clenching sound of manacles clamped on my wrists and ankles. Upon inspection I noticed a foot long chain hanging between the metal cuffs on my wrists. It took a considerable effort not to scream and flail at my restraints. A few deep breaths calmed my speeding heart and frantic mind.

I assessed the damage to my body. Aside from some bruised muscles, I couldn’t feel any broken bones, although my upper left arm burned from the sword cut. I hadn’t noticed the pain during the fight and, even now, it seemed a mere nuisance compared to the pounding in my skull. So I lay still and bided my time.

By full dark, the noises of setting up the camp had been replaced by the quiet murmur of voices. When the pain in my head died down to a dull ache, I tried to move again, and succeeded in turning onto my back. My view of the stars was soon obscured by a man’s face looking down at me. Small close-set eyes peered around a many-times-broken nose. Moonlight glinted off his sword, allowing me to see that the tip hovered above my throat.

“Make trouble and I’ll skewer you with me blade,” the man said with a sick smile. “And I’m not talking about me sword.” To prove his point, he sheathed his weapon.

I decided not to make trouble. At least not yet. The guard seemed satisfied with my silence. He crossed his thick muscled arms over his chest, staring at me. I could feel my switchblade holder on my thigh. Whether or not it still held my weapon was another matter, and I couldn’t risk checking it while under guard. Instead, I surveyed the area to get my bearings.

My attackers had camped in a clearing. Men surrounded a bright fire, cooking something that smelled like meat. A single tent had been erected. Leif and the horseman were not in sight, but the horse was tied to a nearby tree. I counted ten men in the clearing, including my guard. There might have been more inside the tent. Either way, too many for me to fight.

I tried to sit up. The world spun, and my stomach heaved until there was nothing left inside.

A guard came toward me from the campfire. He was an older man with short gray hairs bristling from his scalp. He held a cup in his hand, which he handed to me. “Drink this,” he ordered.

The warm scent of ginger floated from the liquid. “What is it?” My voice rasped.

“It doesn’t matter.” My guard took a step closer to me, raising his fist. “You do what Captain Marrok says.”

“Easy, Goel, she has to be able to walk tomorrow,” Captain Marrok said. Then to me, “Your brother made it from some leaves he had in his pack.”

Leif was alive. My relief surprised me.

“It’s to make your head feel better,” the Captain said when my lips hesitated on the rim of the cup. A hint of kindness touched his blue-gray eyes, but he didn’t let the feeling alter his stern expression.

Why poison me now when they could have killed me before? Perhaps Leif wanted me dead?

“Drink it or I’ll force it down your throat,” Goel said.

I believed Goel, so I took a small sip, testing for poisons. It tasted like sweet ginger mixed with lemon juice. Feeling a little better from the one taste, I gulped the rest.

“Cahil said to move her closer to the fire. It’s too dark back here. I’ve assigned four-hour buddy shifts for tonight,” Captain Marrok said.

Goel grabbed me under the arms and pulled me to my feet. Preparing for another round of nausea, I braced myself, but nothing happened. My stomach settled, and my head cleared enough for me to wonder how I was supposed to walk with such a short chain between my manacled ankles. At least my wrists and ankles weren’t connected together.

The problem was solved when Goel lifted me over his shoulder. When he dropped me near the fire, the other men ceased their conversation. One man glared at me above the bloody bandage that he held to his nose.

Marrok gave me a plate of food. “Eat. You’ll need your strength.”

The guards all laughed. It was a humorless, frightening sound.

I debated whether or not to eat the meat and cheese bread. It had been only a few minutes since I had emptied my stomach on the ground, but the inviting smell of grilled meat made the decision for me. After tasting for poisons, I gobbled the meal.

With my headache gone, and my body somewhat revived from the food, I contemplated my situation. My biggest question was why had Leif and I been captured, and by whom. Goel still hovered nearby so I asked him.

He backhanded me across my face. “No talking,” he ordered.

My cheek stung as unbidden tears welled. I hated this Goel.

I spent the next hours in silence, using the time to search for a way to escape. My backpack wasn’t anywhere in sight, but, across the fire, a heavyset man tried to spar another guard with my bow. Sweating with profusion, the big man inexpertly hacked at the other’s practice sword and was beaten with ease.

After watching the bout, I decided that these men had to be soldiers even though they wore plain homespun civilian clothes. Their ages ranged from mid-twenties to late-forties, maybe even fifty. Mercenaries, perhaps? Captain Marrok’s command of these men was obvious.

So why had they attacked us? If they needed money, they could have taken what they wanted and been on their way. If they were killers, I would be dead by now. That left kidnapping. For a ransom? Or for something worse?

A shudder shook my shoulders when I thought of my parents receiving word that I had disappeared again and I promised myself that I wouldn’t let it go that far. Somehow, I would escape, but I knew it wouldn’t be under Goel’s zealous watch.

I rubbed my neck. My hand came away sticky with blood. Exploring with my fingertips, I found a deep gash at the base of my skull and a smaller cut above my left temple. I tapped my bun and moved my hand away with what I hoped was a casual motion. My lock picks were still holding up some of my hair, and I prayed Goel didn’t see them.

A possible means of escape was within reach. I just needed some time unguarded. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like that would happen any time soon; two men came out of the tent and headed straight toward me.

“He wants to see her,” one man said as they hauled me to my feet.

They dragged me toward the tent. Goel followed. I was pulled inside and dumped on the floor. When my eyes adjusted to the dim candlelight, I saw the young horseman sitting at a canvas table. Leif, unchained and unharmed, sat beside him. My backpack was on the table, and my possessions had been spread out.

With effort, I stood. “Friends of yours?” I asked Leif.

Something hard connected with the side of my head, slamming me back to the ground. Leif half rose from his seat, but settled when the horseman touched his sleeve.

“That was unnecessary, Goel,” the horseman said. “Wait outside.”

“She spoke without permission.”

“If she fails to show the proper respect, you may teach her some manners. Now go,” ordered the horseman.

I struggled to my feet again. Goel left, but the other two guards remained by the door. By now my patience was gone. If I were quick enough, I might be able to wrap the foot of chain hanging between my wrists around the horseman’s neck.

As I was gauging the distance, the horseman said, “I wouldn’t try anything stupid.” He lifted a long, broad sword from his lap.

“Who the hell are you and what do you want?” I demanded.

“Watch your language or I’ll call Goel back,” he replied with a smile.

“Go ahead, call him back. Take my manacles off and let us have a fair fight.” When he didn’t reply, I added, “Guess you’re afraid I’d win. Typical ambusher mentality.”

He looked at Leif in amazement. Leif stared back with concern, and I wondered what had gone on between them. Friends or foes?

“You failed to mention this bravado. Of course,” he turned back to me, “it could all be an act.”

“Try me,” I said.

The horseman laughed. Despite his full blond beard and mustache, he still looked younger than I. Maybe seventeen or eighteen years old. His eyes were a washed-out blue, and his shoulder-length blond hair had been pulled back into a ponytail. He wore a simple light gray tunic. Even from this distance, I could tell that his shirt’s fabric was finer than the guards’ clothes.

“What do you want?” I asked again.

“Information.”

I gaped at his unexpected answer.

“Oh, come on,” he said. “Don’t play the simpleton with me. I want military statistics on Ixia. Troop size and location. Strengths. Weaknesses. How many weapons? Valek’s precise location. Who and where his other spies are. That type of information.”

“Why would you think I know all this?”

He glanced at Leif, and sudden understanding flooded my mind. “You think I’m a northern spy.” I sighed. Leif had set me up. That’s why the horseman knew Leif was my brother. Leif’s fear and shock during the ambush had all been an act. He had no business with the First Magician. No wonder he hadn’t said a word since I had arrived in the tent.