Marked For Magic (21 page)

As mist gathered, his robe became sodden. When he grew chilled, he went up to the tower room to sleep. The path to shared power with Nin demanded an ancient joining ritual. A form of raising magical energy practiced centuries ago. Few took such measures now. Few had the need.

He stripped off his robe, draped it over the chair to dry, grabbed the thick bedcover, and rolled over as he lay down in the alcove bed.

No matter if the ritual would give them an unassailable link, he would not, could not bring himself to use Sparrow in such a way. Cassandra’s words had prompted the thought, and it ran like an echo of his visions. Joining with Nin remained lodged in his mind. The ritual could be the solution to so much, but only if he would use her as a tool.

The gray winter dawn hovered on the horizon before sleep came, and his rest was bitter with his decision.

He woke to the sound of the noon bell. Irritated he had slept so long, he soused himself in cool water. Today, he must search for the one responsible for the sickness in the land.

He pulled on his robe and pushed the decision he’d made last night to the back of his mind. If this journey was to go well, he needed to find calmness and have peace in his heart. His stomach rebelled at the food on the table. Even bread would be too much. He sipped water and slowly stilled all else from his thoughts but the focus of the search.

Freed from distractions, he pulled the cover smooth over the bed and lay down. The descent was swift. Once released from his flesh, his consciousness sought the residue of the call needed to bring the creature forth from the darkness.

Wide arcs of power spiraled around the castle. The livid colors were unfamiliar and certainly not his doing, nor were they the gentle emanations from Cassandra. These signs showed force, not fully controlled. Understanding hit him. These bright splashes through the cosmos were the mark of Nin and the healing she gave to those injured.

She has grown, indeed.

His thoughts became soft like the first winter snowflakes in the forest as she took his mind. He must stop the giddy sensation she created within him, and ignoring his need, forced himself to move on.

Below, his tower appeared. Swirls of energy faded around the skylight. All their hard work of the summer still left much evidence, but this was not what he needed.

There must be more.

He widened the search and peered out toward the village. Fear rippled from it in waves. Dread grew like a wall around the collection of wooden houses and huts. Near the ancient palisade, he caught the first whiff. Telltale traces of evil hovered, the scent distinctive, rank as rancid meat. Faint but discernible, and of all places, the stench came from here.

He shook his head.

Right under his nose, this close to home, someone called the malevolence forth. And he had not noticed! Since his Sparrow knocked on his door, absorbed in her charm and the way she lured him to love, he had focused on his feelings. Shame grew to anger. Biting back the sudden urge to return to his flesh and descend on the village in vengeance, he made his way closer.

He scoured through the village boundaries, focused on the sagging palisade, took in the tiny square, and moved on to the ramshackle buildings. Here at last, he found what he sought.

Now the earlier faint traces became a forceful odor to sicken him. The call to evil and its wretched answer came from one small wooden house. He marked it well, would recognize the hazy darkness sweeping from its foundations even in his sleep. So similar to the other houses around it, but this humble building sheltered a true horror, and he would know it again.

Certain now of his quarry, he allowed his mind one last freedom to sweep over the land. More refugees headed toward the castle. Lord Farel’s troops rode back, and in their wake marched groups of armed men. Villagers with sickles and scythes, staves and quarterstaffs, weapons like those that inflicted the deep wounds on Rollo, tramped toward the castle.

He could do nothing to prevent battle. He must return in the flesh to the one who gave evil it’s power. His sense of urgency grew. Like an arrow fired from a bow, he shot back to the castle where he found his body and settled inside.

Though impatience coursed through him, he forced himself to rouse slow, allowed sensation to flow through his limbs, took the deep, even breaths to bring him back to full consciousness. When every muscle was under control, he opened his eyes and sat up to take a few more deep breaths before he moved from the bed.

Certain he could stand steady on his feet, he yanked open the tower chamber door and bounded down the steps toward the infirmary. Nin would probably be there.

Cassandra met him at the door.

“I need to speak with Nin. Is she inside?”

“No, I have sent all three girls to walk in the herb garden for a while. They have worked so hard.” Cassandra’s soft tone made him still, and he looked around to see all four of the injured youths slept.

“I must speak with Nin. I have found the source near here. I want her to help me deal with it.”

“Someone close to us is responsible?”

“Yes, it stems from the village beyond my tower. The village Nin came to me from.”

Cassandra’s gaze widened.

He nodded to her questioning look. “I know. I am stunned like you, but from today, it will cease. What do you want me to do with the individual responsible when I find them?”

“They must be brought here so we can discover whether this call to the creature was true malice at work or the stupidity of the ignorant.”

“Are you certain?” His anger simmered. The need for reckoning bit sharp, so much death and misery called for justice.

“Yes, I am sure. You do not wear these marks for nothing, Mage.” Cassandra laid cool fingers on his wrist. A gentle reminder of his vows, given the day he accepted the tattoos that marked him as one who fought for the light. “I know we have all suffered, and it is not over yet. But retribution is not our way. The gods bring their own discipline for evil, you know it.”

He sighed, for Cassandra spoke the truth. He had given way to vengeance once, with the slavers who tried to steal his Sparrow, and would face his own punishment for his act. Killing them had been a cold bloodied reprisal for their evil, cruelty, and greed, and he had enjoyed it. But this was different.

“Go and find Nin, and return here with whomever you take in the village.”

“As you wish, my lady, and later we will discuss a new journey to the realm of flame.” His voice cracked, for unsure of his motives for the ritual, he could not speak plainer.

“I know your choice, and when you return, I will prepare Nin. Your decision is the only one you could have made. Do not fear it, for if you do, how can I help the girl deal with it?”

He bowed to her and hurried to the herb garden to find Nin.

She walked with the others, the hood of her gray cloak up against the damp day. He slowed his stride as he approached, charmed by her graceful sway between the two girls. How beautiful he found her. The captivating loveliness didn’t disguise the power within her, though he felt it restrained like a banked fire in the cold blast of a northern wind.

For her to take on this task was unfair since she remained so untried. He had almost changed his mind, but he needed his Sparrow’s power to support him and could only pray, when the time came, Nin would understand.

She turned to him, her smile soft. “I know. Don’t worry, it will be all right.”

He swallowed hard.

Had he sent his thoughts unwittingly to her?

“No, Thabit, it’s just…” Bright rose shone from her cheeks. “I see it. You need me to come with you now, and you will need me later. Is it not so?”

“Yes, my love. I will need you every day of my life.”

Her eyes sparkled. She slipped her arms from those of Tab and Cecile, and he threw a fold of his cloak around her. They made their way down to the stable.

While they waited for a horse for him and her pony to be saddled, she lifted her hand to his cheek. “Soon, all this will be over. I am not afraid when I’m with you.”

“Good, there will be little to fear in the village, or so I believe. We must bring the one responsible for this misery back to the castle.”

“What will happen to them?”

“I’ll leave the decision to Cassandra and Lord Farel. I don’t think I could trust myself with their fate. Not knowing what it has meant and will mean.” He took her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed her palm.

“Remember, Thabit, I do not fear when I am with you. It will always be that way.”

“Gods willing, I hope so.”

The stable lad brought out the horse and her pony. They mounted, then crossed the causeway to ride to the village and meet the evil hidden there.

The forest dripped from the earlier rain, but a cold wind stung, and she could taste the snap in the air, a warning of snow to come. Thabit’s determination rolled through her, along with his love.

Since their journey to the darkness and flames, they had connected with a clarity unknown before, as though a thread of thought flashed between them and sensations were shared. Waves of his love and desire seeped through her like waters in the mountains carved a channel through rock. She loved the sensation. Today, the ripples of his love were warm, but his anger simmered.

As if some force had warned of their approach, the wooden gates in the village palisade stood closed when they arrived. Silence hung heavy about them, even the birds were still.

“Open.”
Thabit’s command hammered at the gates. The weathered wooden boards creaked and groaned, splintered and fell. The gates had now become a pile of kindling,

When Thabit moved forward he announced to the cowering gatekeeper, “We have business here, stand aside.”

In the summer, she’d imagined she understood the full magnitude of the power Thabit could wield should he wish, but today proved otherwise. She hadn’t guessed the depth of his skill, and never had she seen his wrath this strong.

“The place we seek is toward the back of the village.”

His words sparked an unreasonable fear. Ice yanked his head against her tightened grip on the reins. All she longed to do was urge the pony into a gallop.

Why should she fear Thabit?

He led her into the deserted small market square, frightened faces peeping from doorways or half-closed shutters in the houses they passed. A lump of apprehension rolled around in her stomach and swelled inside. The sensation grew stronger as they moved through a narrow alleyway, and she recognized the house they neared.

They dismounted and Thabit murmured a command to the horse and pony.

She grabbed his arm before they approached the door. Never had he looked so grim. He gleamed hard like dragon scales. Tension tightened her muscles, but the fear was not her own. Her mouth grew dry and her heart thumped in her chest.
“Not here, surely.”

“I discovered this building in my search. Everything—it all stems from here.”
He reached out, wrapped his arm around, and pulled her close.
“Do you know who lives in this house?”

She nodded.
“How could I not? It is my friend’s home.”

“I’m sorry, but this must be done.”

She nodded, but fought to close out an overwhelming sense of dread. The swell of fright came from another, invaded her chest, churned her stomach, and it grew in intensity the closer they got to the house.

“This will be easier with you beside me, Sparrow. The guilty one will come willingly perhaps if they see you with me, though if they do not, the result is not in question.”

They stepped up to the door, and it opened before Thabit’s fist could hammer on the wood. The round, ashen face of the potter, Alicia’s father, met them.

She clutched at Thabit’s hand. Understanding came. The force behind her fear had a name.
“Alicia!”

“Where is she?” Thabit demanded.

The potter bowed his head, and after a painful silence while Nin did her best to give the man peace, he pointed toward the back entrance.

Thabit strode through the room, and she followed past the racks of unglazed pots.

Their quarry crouched in a corner of the small, dark storehouse behind a fat tub of clay. Wide blue eyes peered up from the gloom. “You’ve come for me?”

Thabit reached down, grasped Alicia’s hand, and yanked her to standing
.
“Don’t doubt it. You will come with us, for you have much to explain.”

“Please, Thabit, be gentle. Look, her hand is injured.” Nin moved forward, took her friend’s trembling hand from his, and smoothed over the grubby bandage.

Alicia shook her bowed head. “No, it’s not hurt. When we are out of the village, I’ll show you.”

“Show me now what the bandage hides,” Thabit demanded.

Alicia nodded and Nin gently unwrapped the grimed cloth twined about Alicia’s palm.

“How long have you hidden this?” Thabit shouted.

Alicia shook, and Nin understood the terror, but could not save the girl from his anger.

“Thabit, don’t, she didn’t do it on purpose, I’m sure. She’s afraid, has been afraid for a long time. Please.” Nin glanced at Thabit in a plea for his understanding. There, carved into the pale skin of her friend’s palm lay a mark, like the one she had feared when it had appeared on her palm. “When did it come?” she asked.

Alicia didn’t answer and would not look at her.

“I know when it came,” Thabit said. “The mark became visible when the old crone discovered you, Nin, and they sent you from the village.” He turned to Alicia. “Did it not?”

Alicia’s chin edged up to give him a nod of affirmation.

“Why did you not come to us at the tower?”

Alicia backed off toward the wall until she could retreat from them no further. Words choked from between her clenched teeth. “How could I? There was no room for me. You were first. You wouldn’t have wanted me to spoil things between you. He didn’t come to get me, not like I thought he would. I had nowhere to go.”

The icy blue eyes were those of her friend, but Nin hardly recognized them. Guilt stirred through her
. Had she let Alicia think it was so?
Her apprehension grew for there was more to this tale than she, and perhaps even Thabit, guessed.