Everyone turned to look at him, but he remained silent, staring at the ground.
“Well?” someone asked.
Mikken shook his head. “Can you hear that?”
Surprised, they all stood very still and listened. A rhythmic beating, faint but clearly from some sort of four-legged animal, came to Jayan’s ears. More than one animal, perhaps. Whatever they were, they were coming closer. Turning towards the noise, he found himself staring towards the dark shapes of trees a few hundred strides away.
Slowly, out of the gloom, three horses appeared, carrying three riders. The distant light reflected back from exotic coats, knife handles and gleaming eyes.
“Sachakans!” Refan hissed.
“Run!” Mikken wailed.
“Stay together!” Jayan shouted, throwing up a shield and racing after them.
Then he cursed as the first strike nearly shattered his barrier. He strengthened it. How long can I hold against three higher magicians? Who’ve probably got the strength of thousands of source slaves. He winced as another strike beat against the shield. Or have they? If they’ve followed us, they probably didn’t have time to regain much power after the battle.
Refan was nearly at the storehouse, too far ahead for Jayan to be sure he was shielding him. He skidded to a halt before the door, grabbed it and hauled it open. Then he vanished inside with unnatural speed.
“Not in there!” Jayan gasped. “If they use firestrike . . .” But Refan had disappeared within and the others were racing after him. Jayan sighed and followed. In the darkness someone stumbled and there was the sound of glass breaking and the smell of whitewater. Then a globe light flared into existence. Jayan cast about, taking in the huge interior filled with racks of bottles, the apprentices panting and staring at each other as they finally realised how dangerous this place was for a fight – and then the whimpering figure on the floor.
“Refan?” Jayan moved to the boy’s side and knelt.
“Hurts,” Refan panted. “Back. Hurts. Can’t . . . can’t move my legs.”
Jayan cursed as he realised that Refan hadn’t thrown himself inside the storehouse, but had been knocked in by forcestrike.
The sound of hoofbeats came from outside the doors. They stopped and were replaced by footsteps. Jayan looked around, at the bottles, then towards the back of the interior. Trapped. They only need the tiniest spark of power to set this place burning. And it will take a lot more to protect us.
Protect us...or them? The glimmer of an idea set his heart racing with excitement.
“Quickly,” he hissed to the others. “Drag him to the back and wait – and do it gently. When I say “Now’, break through the wall.”
Refan yelled in pain as they began to move him. They let go as if he’d burned them. Jayan saw movement in the doorway.
“Pick him up and get him out!” he found himself roaring. Their eyes widened in shock and surprise. Grabbing Refan, ignoring his yells, they carried him away. Jayan followed, walking backwards, not taking his eyes from the three Sachakans entering the storehouse. He threw up a shield to protect himself and the apprentices behind him.
Two men and one woman, he noted. One is familiar. Surely... surely that’s not Takado. Surely he wouldn’t leave his army and risk sneaking up on us with only two others to support him?
The Sachakans stared at him. They smiled. They came closer, strolling as if they had all the time in the world. He could hear the apprentices retreating. Refan’s yells had turned to whimpers. Someone else was also whimpering. Or crying.
“We’re at the back,” Mikken said.
At the same time the Sachakans stopped. He saw their heads start to turn as they began to look at each other, to gain silent agreement that it was time to strike.
“Get out! Now!” Jayan yelled. At the same time he strengthened his shield and sent several firestrikes fanning out on either side.
White light filled the space before him. He felt scorching heat, then the ground hit his back. Something grabbed his collar and hauled him backwards. He found himself sliding across the ground, through a gap in the storehouse wall. The wall suddenly crumbled and heat enveloped him again, but not as ferociously.
Then he wasn’t sliding any more. Looking up, he saw Mikken grinning down at him, the apprentice’s chest heaving and face flushed with effort. Mikken released his collar.
“You’re heavy,” the young man told him. Then he grinned. “And I think it worked.”
Climbing to his feet, Jayan quickly took in the other apprentices standing beside a prone and silent Refan, then turned back to the storehouse. It was burning with a more natural fire now, the flames eating wood rather than whitewater.
Then he saw movement. Three figures running towards the trees. So they’re not dead. He didn’t feel as disappointed as he expected. I never really thought it would kill them, but they must have used a lot of power protecting themselves. He considered himself and felt a new kind of exhaustion on top of mere physical tiredness. As did I.
“Their horses will have run off,” Mikken said. He turned. “Here come the magicians. We’re going to have a lot of explaining to do.”
Jayan turned to see the crowd hurrying towards them and nodded.
“Yes. Let’s not tell them why Refan was so keen to explore, shall we?”
“I won’t if you don’t. And I’ll make sure the others stay silent.”
As he moved away, Jayan smiled. Then he remembered the price Refan had paid for their little adventure and all satisfaction at weakening the Sachakans fled.
I should have protected him better. I should never have let him lead us away from the protection of the army in the first place. This is all my fault. He saw Dakon hurrying towards him and felt his heart sink. He’s not going to want to make me a higher magician now. And I won’t blame him.
When the boom shook the air, it seemed like the answer to Tessia’s silent, heartfelt wishes.
Avaria had taken her to meet two other female magicians, Magician Jialia and Lady Viria. Both women had been questioning Tessia closely.
“Have you really been travelling with the magicians in pursuit of the Sachakans right from the start?” Viria asked.
“Yes,” Tessia replied, suppressing a sigh at the question. Did the woman think she’d been making it all up?
“Have the other apprentices been polite to you? Have they made any inappropriate suggestions?” Jialia paused and leaned forward. “None of them have tried to force themselves on you, have they?”
“No, they’ve been very well behaved,” Tessia assured them. “Besides, Lord Dakon would do something about it if they weren’t.”
The two women exchanged glances. Viria frowned and regarded Tessia closely.
“Lord Dakon hasn’t . . . ah . . . made any inappropriate advances, has he?”
Tessia stared at her, appalled. “No!” she replied firmly.
Viria spread her hands. “It’s not unheard of. A master seducing his female apprentice – or the other way around. When I was a girl I knew a young woman who married her master, after she conceived a child by him. We thought she’d been taken advantage of, but it turned out to be the other way around, though I imagine he couldn’t have objected that much. It’s not uncommon for young female apprentices to fall in love with their masters.”
This is worse than talking to my mother! Tessia thought. Then she felt a wrench and a pang of guilt for thinking of her mother that way. Still, she wouldn’t have thought there was anything wrong with me falling in love with and marrying Dakon.
Looking over to where her master was sitting with the other army leaders and advisers, she considered her feelings for him. Many times she’d felt an affection for him. And admiration. But both feelings were for his good nature. There was no deeper feeling. No physical longing.
“Don’t be silly, Viria,” Jialia said. “Young women prefer men closer to their age. If Tessia is infatuated with anyone, it’s more likely to be young Jayan of Drayn.” Her gaze b
ecame speculative. “I do hope Lord Dakon has taught you how to avoid conceiving.”
Tessia shook her head and sighed. If you knew Jayan, you’d know how unlikely that is, she thought. Though he has improved. It would be unfair to say he was completely loathsome.
“Jialia,” Avaria cut in. “It’s hardly something a male magician is going to teach a female apprentice.”
Viria nodded, then looked from Avaria to Tessia and back again. “So will you teach Tessia yourself?”
“I...if she wishes me to.”
Tessia decided to say nothing. It was taking all her will to stop herself grinding her teeth. Someone please come and take me away from these insane women, she thought.
And then the sound of an explosion had assaulted their ears, coming from behind Tessia. She and Avaria jumped to their feet and turned around.
“What was that?” Avaria asked.
Magicians began moving towards the noise, their faces hard with fear and determination. Tessia took a step away from the women.
“No! Stay here,” Jialia said, a note of command in her voice despite the fear that made it waver. Tessia turned to find the pair still sitting on their blankets. “Don’t get in the way.”
A surge of rebellion fought common sense and her habit of obedience. Tessia looked at Avaria. If she says I should stay, I will.
Avaria glanced at Tessia, frowned and reluctantly sat down. “Yes, we should wait for orders.” Her eyes narrowed as she watched the magicians disappear behind the storehouses.
Tessia sat down, but turned so that her shoulder was to the women and she could keep watching the magicians. Time dragged by. The women tried to resume the conversation, this time targeting Avaria with their questions.
“Well, they’d have ordered us to fight or flee by now if it was an attack,” one of them said. She turned to Avaria. “So, when are you going to give Everran some boys to indulge?”
Tessia saw Avaria wince and smothered a smile.
“When there isn’t a good chance the Sachakans will eat them before they grow old enough to talk,” Avaria retorted.
“Well,” the woman said, her eyebrows rising.
“I thought that was only a rumour,” the other murmured to her.
Tessia didn’t hear what they said next. Lord Werrin’s servant had rounded the end of a storehouse and was hurrying towards her. Perhaps Avaria would ask for news as he passed. But as he came closer she realised he was looking at her.
“Apprentice Tessia,” he called.
She rose. “Yes?”
“Your services are required.”
Picking up her father’s bag, she hurried forward. He led her back towards the end of the storehouse.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Sachakans attacked,” he said, breathing heavily. “Only three, but gone now. They sneaked up on a group of apprentices exploring the estate.” As she followed him round the corner she nearly stopped in shock. One of the huge buildings had collapsed, and the remains were burning.
“Anyone hurt?” she asked. But of course someone is. Why else summon me? Unless... unless I know them. She felt her insides clench with fear and dread. Jayan? No. Surely not Jayan. He’s too annoying to have been killed. Besides, this one said my “services” were needed. That can only mean healing.
“The apprentices lured them inside,” the servant continued. “The storehouse was filled with whitewater. Apprentice Jayan set it alight.” He glanced back, grinning. “Must’ve cost them a bit of power shielding from that.”
“But they survived.”
The servant nodded. “Ran off into the night. Some magicians have gone off after them.”
She’d meant the apprentices, but was glad he’d told her that bit of news anyway. He was leading her towards a group of magicians and servants standing around something. Recognising the two guild healers, she felt her stomach sink. Someone saw her approaching and all turned to stare at her. Then she saw Lord Dakon and Jayan.
Jayan looks unharmed. The relief she felt was stronger than she’d have thought warranted. So who are they... ah. Refan.
The young man was lying on the ground, face down. He was groaning with pain. As she reached the magicians, Lord Dakon moved to her side.
“It’s his back,” he told her quietly. “Hit by forcestrike. He can’t feel his legs. The healers say the paths to those parts of his body have been broken. He’ll live for a while, in pain, before those parts die and poison the rest of him.”
She nodded. A broken back was a terrible injury. The healers were right, though it depended on where the break was, and whether the patient had constant, specific care. They could live for a few years, if they were lucky.
But even if Refan was so lucky, he couldn’t ride. He probably couldn’t travel in a cart, either. The jostling would worsen the injury. If he stayed, the Sachakans would kill him. She looked at Lord Dakon.
“Why call for me?”
He smiled faintly. “Jayan suggested it. He says you’ve found a way to use magic to stop the pain.”
“Ah.” She looked at the magicians and healers. They wore expressions of curiosity, mostly. Some looked doubtful. “I can’t promise anything, but it’s always worth trying.”
Moving to Refan’s side, she knelt beside him and placed a hand on the side of his neck. His skin was hot. She closed her eyes and for a moment struggled to put the thought of all the eyes watching her out of her mind.
Concentrate. Look inward. Inside. An awareness of Refan’s body came to her. She gently probed beyond the skin, letting the signals and rhythms guide her. Spreading her awareness down his spine she found the source of the body’s alarm.
The bones had been knocked out of alignment. Swelling around them radiated heat and pain. And once she became aware of that pain, it swamped her senses. She felt herself go rigid to match Refan’s own agony-tensed muscles, and the same desperate need for the pain to stop that Refan must be feeling. But her need was not desperate. She could do something to stop it. Searching for the right place, she exerted her will and pinched.
The pain ended.
Relieved, she paused to rest and regain a sense of herself. As she did, she noticed something about the injury. The areas of swelling were acting as blockages. They were compressing the cord that threaded the bones, and some of the pathways that sprouted from it.
Then she realised that none of those pathways had been severed. Looking closer, she saw that none of the bones were broken or cracked, either.
It must have been a weak or glancing blow. Forcestrike should have made a much worse mess than this. Still, if the Sachakans had wanted to prolong his agony, they couldn’t have chosen a better way to do it other than to stay and torture him. And the pain...
Abruptly she realised the pain was returning. Returning to the pathway she had pinched, she saw that it was recovering.
He’s healing.
For a moment she marvelled at the futile but persistent efforts his body was going to in order to try to fix itself. Then she felt her skin prickle. I’ve never noticed this before. I’ve never seen a body healing so fast I could sense it. Curious, she looked closer, trying to understand the mechanism that was driving this unnaturally fast healing.
And she sensed magic.
The meaning of this came to her in a jolt. Dakon had told her that magicians were more robust than people who had no or little latent ability. Even those people with magical talents who never learned magic tended to heal faster and resist disease better. It made sense, then, that magic was, literally, the reason.
Am I the first person to watch this process? she wondered.
Unfortunately, it was acting against her intentions. The pain of the injury was returning as the pinched pathway recovered, and when she concentrated on the injury itself she saw that the speedy healing wasn’t going to succeed. The bones would remain in the position they’d been forced into. Refan would not be able to walk, and it was even possible his internal organs might not work pro
perly.
But I can fix that, she realised.
Taking a deep breath, she thought her way through the task. First she must pinch the pain pathway again. Then she would have to gently encourage excess moisture to leave the swollen areas. Finally, when she had enough space, she must nudge the bones slowly and carefully back into their correct positions. All the interconnecting tissues should then return with them.
When she had thought her way through the process a few times, deciding what to move first, she set to work.
It was a slow process. As she pinched and squeezed and nudged, she wondered what the magicians and healers watching her were thinking. Did they think she was taking a long time, for the simple task of blocking pain? Could they see any of the change she was making? Or had they grown bored and left? After all, the much anticipated and very late meal they were all waiting for must be cooked by now.
Finally everything was back in place. She noticed that Refan’s body was now applying magic to healing him in much more effective ways. He’s going to survive, she realised. He might not even be crippled. A thrill of pride ran through her, and she immediately suppressed it. This still may not work. It’s the first time I’ve done it – maybe the first time anyone has – and I can’t know the full outcome. And besides, it will still take days or weeks for him to heal properly and he’s still going to be a burden to the army.
After one last check, and pinching the pain pathway one more time to delay what would be an unpleasant revival despite her efforts, she drew her consciousness back into herself and opened her eyes.
Looking around, she saw that all the magicians were still there. And the healers. They were staring at her, some frowning in puzzlement. Then Refan groaned and all attention returned to him.
“What...what happened?” he said. “Pain’s gone... but I still can’t feel my legs.”
“You will soon,” Tessia told him. “And you’re not going to like it.” She looked up at Lord Dakon. “His back wasn’t broken, but it was all out of place and the pathways were being squashed.”
He smiled, his eyes shining. “Will he recover?”
“If he has the time to.” She grimaced. “If he has the time to, he’ll even walk again.”