The unchained mage, p.21
The Unchained Mage, page 21
He felt he had slept a long time. If he hadn’t dreamed it, he remembered a Healer: white robe, soft cool hands, the sudden shocking absence of pain, and the strange feeling of bones moving inside him, knitting together under her will. Perhaps he had dreamed that.
With an effort, he freed one hand from the bedding. His chest felt bruised, but that was all.
He remembered the fight with Daelean and the outlaws, though the end was a confusion of faces and voices, and pain, mostly. He’d thought he was dying.
He wanted to know what had happened, but he was exhausted. It could wait. He closed his eyes and slipped back into sleep.
The next time he woke, the curtains were drawn and Aunt Sara sat beside him, knitting by lamplight. He tried to sit up.
She started. ‘Steady, boy. The Healer patched you up pretty good, but she left orders you’re to take it easy. So don’t move on your own, or I’ll skin you.’
Ashe sank back into the bed. He could move if he had to, it didn’t hurt, but he was content to lie still as long as his curiosity was satisfied.
He took her hand. ‘I don’t know how I’ll repay you, but I will, every penny.’
‘Pshaw.’ She squeezed his fingers. ‘It was your magi friend who paid the Healer.’
‘Maia?’
‘She insisted. I mean, I would have, if she hadn’t, but she wouldn’t let me pay anything.’
Ashe’s brain was as sluggish as his body. Healers were expensive, very expensive. He’d meant what he said; even if it took all his life, he’d have repaid Sara what he owed her. That was the uman way. But Maia had paid the Healer, and Maia had said, if he hadn’t dreamt that part, that she cared for him. He remembered the fear in her eyes, and the pleading. She’d even called him a hero, though she might not have meant it as a compliment.
Had she paid for the Healer because she felt responsible for him being injured, or did she feel something for him? Considering how she’d rebuffed his friendship before, maybe he shouldn’t jump to conclusions.
‘Where is Maia?’ he said.
‘Waiting to speak to you. I told her you might not be up to it, but I can’t exactly send her away, what with her paying the Healer and all.’
‘I’d like to see her.’
Sara pursed her lips. ‘Fine, but don’t tire yourself out.’
Once she left, Ashe struggled into a sitting position. Even that minor exertion made his heart pound and his hands tremble, but he couldn’t speak to Maia flat on his back.
Footsteps padded on the tiled floor of the hallway. Maia peered round the door.
He smiled. ‘Come in. I hear I owe you.’
She perched on the chair Sara had vacated. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Good, considering.’
‘You shouldn’t exert yourself too quickly. The healed bones won’t be as strong as they were, not for weeks.’
She smoothed the bedspread. He gazed at her, how the lamplight softened the strong lines of her face. Her black hair lay long and loose over her shoulders. She wore a new robe and over it a master mage’s bronze belt.
‘You have a belt?’
‘I defeated Daelean in jadix—a battle-of-mastery—so I took his belt.’
‘Wow. Good. But what happened to Daelean? Tell me everything.’
‘The hayan have him and the outlaws. I made a statement under oath that he hired the bandits to steal from us and kill us. The bandits tell the same story, for what it’s worth.’
‘What will happen to him? He won’t be hung like a vasyi, I suppose.’
‘Mages who commit serious crimes are judged by the Council of Seven and the Archmage. They may exile him, and I already took his belt. For now, he’s safely locked in a dungeon.’
‘What about Lemy? Is he all right?’
Maia rolled her eyes. ‘Lemy, come in.’
Lemy crept into the room, his eyes wider than ever. His shaggy hair had been cropped and years of ingrained dirt scrubbed from his face. New clothes too, Ashe noted, and grinned. Sara must have taken the boy under her competent wing.
‘Lemy! I could hug you.’ Ashe settled for patting his shoulder. ‘You saved my life.’
‘I’m sorry, master.’ Lemy’s face fell. ‘I tole the outlaws bout Daelean and they made me take ’em to him. It’s all my fault. I shoulda let ’em cut me to pieces if I’da known what he’d do.’
Ashe squeezed his shoulder. ‘Daelean is the one to blame, not you.’
Lemy’s eyes filled with tears. ‘And the poor gryphon…’
A pile of bloody feathers, beaten into stillness. Ashe swallowed. ‘It’s all right. It’s not your fault. She was old.’
‘Sara found a place for it in the warehouse,’ Maia said.
Lemy sniffed. ‘We splinted her wing, but they say it mayn’t heal straight.’
Ashe stared at Lemy. ‘What? You mean, she’s alive?’
‘She was hurt real bad, master, but I cleaned her up, and…’ The boy gulped.
‘He hardly left the creature for two days,’ Maia said. ‘A mother couldn’t care for her child with more devotion.’
Ashe wasn’t sure whether he was more surprised to hear Maia say that or that the gryphon had somehow survived. ‘Bless you, Lemy. How is she now?’
‘You need rest,’ Maia said firmly. ‘Lemy can tell you about the gryphon tomorrow.’
Lemy backed from the room, grinning.
Maia stood. ‘I should leave you to rest.’
‘No, don’t go, I mean, I’m not tired.’
She smiled, and said, ‘You lie poorly,’ but she sat on the edge of the bed, close to him.
He felt drained, but he had to know what she was thinking. ‘Maia, when you said you cared for me, did you mean it?’
‘Of course.’ She gripped his hand. ‘Get better and I’ll prove it.’
Her dark eyes were like pools of still water in a shadowed place, hiding mysteries. His mouth was dry and his heart beat hard against his newly healed ribs. She bent close, closer until her breath warmed his face and her lips brushed his, cool and soft.
He’d kissed before, with Leah and a few other girls, in stolen moments of privacy or at the Spring Festival. And this kiss was like those kisses, but his heart had never raced this fast… Breathless, he pulled away.
‘Is that how all uman kiss?’ Maia’s words fluttered against his cheek like moths. ‘Because I think you need practice.’
‘I’m happy to take lessons, if you’re offering.’
She chuckled. Someone knocked on the open door.
Ashe pulled away from Maia, heat rising to his face. She smiled at his embarrassment.
‘Umm, Ashe?’
Ashe sighed. ‘Come in, Hal.’ Maia glided out as Hal entered. Ashe bit back a curse. ‘Well, what do you want?’
Hal blinked. ‘Hey. Just wanted to see how you were.’
He seemed to have recovered from his own injury, though he still had an impressive green-brown bruise on his face.
‘Alive.’
‘Oh. Good.’ Hal stepped up to the bed, wringing his hands. ‘Look, Ashe, I know we haven’t always got on.’
‘We never got on. When we were kids, you used to hit me when no one was looking.’
‘Yeah, but that was just kid’s stuff.’ Hal frowned as if it had never occurred to him that Ashe might not view his bullying as an amusing childhood episode.
‘I’m really tired,’ Ashe said.
‘Yeah, you nearly died there.’ Hal sat on the bed, which creaked under his weight. ‘Look, man, I wanted to say…’ He took a breath and continued in a rush. ‘I’m sorry I was such a jerk before. Since I got hurt, I thought a lot, then I talked it through with Viki.’
‘Sara’s daughter?’
‘Yeah.’ A fond smile spread across Hal’s face. ‘She’s so clever. And she likes me.’
Ashe stared. That any girl, let alone the pretty and—according to Hal—clever Viki, might like Hal stretched credibility to breaking.
‘Yeah, I know,’ Hal said. ‘I don’t believe it either. Anyhow, Sara agreed to take me on here if my parents approve.’ His hands bunched in the bedspread.
‘So?’
‘You were going to pay me for the trip,’ Hal said.
Ashe suppressed a groan. He’d never wanted to pay Hal, and it wasn’t as if he’d ever done much work, between his general laziness and getting injured.
‘So I thought I’d let you off the pay, but I’ll stay here, and you talk my dad into transferring my apprenticeship to Sara.’
‘Oh.’ Ashe considered it. He and Maia could manage the wagon just fine. And Tem shouldn’t object; he should be delighted to have Hal off his hands. ‘Fine.’
Hal grinned. ‘Great. I knew I could count on you. You’re a pal.’ He clapped Ashe on the shoulder. ‘Viki’s going to be so happy.’
Once Hal left, Ashe sank into the pillows. He was tired, but his mind was too busy for sleep. So much had happened, so quickly… it seemed a lifetime ago he’d argued with Kiran and watched him ride away. Did he still need to go before the bailiff? He should have asked. It didn’t seem too important now.
Assuming he wasn’t in trouble with the hayan, once he was fit, Maia and him could return to Kingskeep, just the two of them on the wagon for days and nights alone together. His heart sped, thinking of it, remembering how she’d kissed him. She said she cared for him, but how did he feel about her? He wanted to kiss her again, for sure. His insides knotted just imagining it.
But he shouldn’t forget business. They had to return to Kingskeep and collect his pay from Inuinor. He’d planned to put that money toward starting his own business, but he owed Maia for the Healer, so he’d have to give it to her. How he’d pay the rest, he didn’t know, let alone how he’d feed the gryphon, or even himself if his father still meant to disown him.
Money, as usual, was the problem, but wrapped in warm, lethargic comfort, he had a drowsy conviction that once he put his mind to it, he’d find a solution.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
WITH LEMY TROTTING beside him, Ashe carried the gryphon across the yard. She wasn’t heavy, but her splinted wing made her an awkward burden, even when she wasn’t clawing him or screeching at the top of her voice. He deposited her in the wagon, where she sat down, shook out her feathers, and started preening.
Keeping her distance from the gryphon, Sara eyed the neatly arranged cargo. ‘Are you sure you’re ready?’
‘Everything’s checked and double-checked.’ Ashe stepped back to watch Hal yoking the oxen. The muscle-flexing, Ashe supposed, was for Viki’s benefit, but the job was being competently done.
Hero tossed his head and Mati stamped. The oxen were fresh after their long rest, as eager to be on the road as he was himself. From her perch on the driver’s box, Maia caught his eye and smiled.
‘You know that’s not what I mean,’ Sara said. ‘It’s only been a week.’
‘I’m fine. If we stay longer, the oxen will just get fat and lazy. Me too, the way you’ve been feeding me.’
‘Still, you’d be welcome to stay.’
Ashe grinned. ‘I know, and I love you for it, but I’m fit and now the business with the hayan is settled…’ With the usual incomprehensible hayan logic, the Eastwall bailiff had been uninterested in how the outlaws escaped, and had even paid Ashe a few pence for carting the bale of carpets.
Lemy tugged his hand. ‘Master, can I go with you?’
‘Sorry, kid. I’d take you if I could, but I don’t need a servant and I can’t afford to pay you or feed you.’ Ashe glanced at Sara. They’d already discussed Lemy’s future.
She put her hand on the boy’s shoulder. ‘I’ve a place for you in the yard, lad. You’re good with the animals and there’s plenty of work.’
Lemy sniffed and nodded. His drooping shoulders made Ashe feel guilty, but it was the right decision. Sara treated her vasyi like family and Lemy was a good kid. He’d do well here.
‘Run along and open the gates now.’ Sara gave Lemy a little push to get him moving. The boy trotted away.
‘I can never thank you enough, Aunt.’
‘Oh, I’ve only done what’s right. Speaking of which, there’s something I must say.’
‘More good advice?’ He smiled, but she was serious.
‘You and the magi girl.’
Ashe’s smile faded. They’d been discreet. He’d thought no one had noticed.
Sara sighed. ‘I may be old but I have eyes, and I was your age once. Of course, you won’t listen to me, but have a care. Magi aren’t uman. Right now, you’re in love and you think she loves you, but it won’t last. It never does.’
Ashe blushed. ‘It’s not like that. We’re just…’
‘Yes, I expect so. That’s how trouble always starts.’ She hugged him. ‘Just take care, that’s all.’
‘I will.’
He climbed onto the wagon beside Maia and picked up the whip. Then Hal and Viki had to say goodbye, and Lemy, and Sara’s yard workers, and Sara again.
Laden with farewells and good wishes, Ashe geed the oxen and they lumbered through the gateway, leaving a waving crowd behind. He took a deep breath of dusty air and relaxed, all the tension in his shoulders dissolving. They were free and moving, just him and Maia with the world trundling past at the speed of a walking ox.
‘This is the life. Don’t you wish it could be like this forever? Just us two travelling, no worries, no people to bother us.’
‘Do you?’
‘A trader’s life isn’t all sunny days and starlit nights. Oxen go lame, axles break, there are thieves, and bad weather, but the freedom is attractive. In town, there’s no privacy. People are watching and judging all the time.’
‘So? Let them judge.’ She tossed her hair back. ‘I don’t care.’
The day rolled on and they talked of small things, of people they saw, and birds and trees, and where they would camp that night. There were at least eight days of travel before they reached Kingskeep, and that seemed eternity.
That night they lay close together, each rolled in their own blankets. On the other side of the campfire, the gryphon snored softly, twitching in her sleep. The fire burnt down and the stars wheeled overhead in a cloudless sky.
Maia snuggled into Ashe’s side. ‘Am I hurting you?’
She was, a little, but he didn’t mind. ‘No.’
‘You lie poorly, tinker boy.’ She shifted her weight off him.
Ashe gazed at the stars. He still hadn’t asked her how much she’d paid the Healer. He should. He must. But Maia hadn’t mentioned it, and he felt if he raised the subject, their relationship—whatever it was—would change somehow. Reality would creep in and complicate matters. Besides, until Inuinor paid him, he had no money.
‘I’d rather you didn’t call me that,’ he said.
‘What, tinker boy? I mean nothing by it. It’s a joke.’
‘You don’t mean it as an insult, but that doesn’t make it not insulting. I’m not a tinker. My father’s not a tinker. He’s a master-craftsman, head of the Guild Council, and his factory employs twenty men.’
She raised her head to look into his eyes. ‘Well, I never knew it meant so much to you.’
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so serious. It just annoys me. You don’t like to be called witch, do you?’
She shrugged. ‘Can’t say I mind. Is that the worst you can think of?’
‘Witch. Sorceress. Wizard-get. Evil cold-hearted bitch-demon.’
She laughed, and he kissed her, and they were both laughing.
‘Bitch-demon! You made that up. I don’t believe uman say such things.’
‘Oh, no. We’re always polite and oh-so-well-behaved. We never act like this.’ He rolled her over and tickled her.
She squealed and squirmed away. ‘Get off me! I don’t want to be responsible for you busting those ribs again.’
Reluctantly, he settled down.
She sighed. ‘Us cold-hearted demons never do this sort of thing either. We just sit in our towers, cackling over our potions.’
‘That sounds dull.’
‘Yes, that’s why we come out at night to steal the souls of good uman boys and lead them to their doom.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
THE NEXT NIGHT, while Ashe cooked, Maia sat cross-legged, examining the box.
The tarnished metal tingled and whispered in her hands. The layers of wards, two surface curses, and the curse-lock were more complex than anything she’d seen before. She was confident she’d untangle the wards, given time. The surface curses were trickier. They’d been interlinked so that breaking one triggered the other, and their nature was obscured.
Curses of this type weren’t usually dangerous, or at least, not immediately so. The effects were often subtle and delayed. She was prepared to accept them if she must. The curse-lock, though, was a triggered effect with enough power to kill, more than enough.
Ashe bent over her shoulder. ‘What are you doing?’
She jerked the box away from him. ‘Don’t.’
‘Sorry.’
‘This is dangerous. Don’t touch it, ever.’
‘You’re touching it.’
‘I know what I’m doing.’
He stepped back. She returned her attention to the box. Already she knew opening it, if possible at all, would require hours of delicate and dangerous work.
‘I wanted to talk to you,’ he said. ‘Will you be busy long?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, do you want dinner? There’s beans and bacon, or there’s bacon and beans.’
‘Ashe. Go. Away.’
He threw up his hands. ‘Fine.’
Maia sighed, and pulled her shattered focus back to the box. By mage-sight, the wards covered the dark metal in intricate silver loops and whorls, each a separate defence for the box and its contents.
Since the jadix with Daelean, she’d felt different. It wasn’t only the belt’s weight, reminding her she was now a master mage. Her mage-sight was clearer, her awareness of magic deeper. Though the wards were complex, she read the maker’s intent, how each connected to the other and to the symbols in the engraved bronze.
