Torn: Bound Trilogy Book Two (34 page)

I
set
the fire burning low and hot before Florizel and I left the group the following night, right after sunset. We’d camped in the woods, hidden in the forest on a bluff that overlooked the city and the surrounding lands. Any closer to Ardare and we’d have been in a farmer’s field, our fire announcing our presence.

Maneuvering around the horse’s massive wings and mounting without a saddle was awkward, but I managed. I clamped my legs tight behind her wings, as she instructed, and she trotted through the woods until she felt accustomed to my weight.

“Are you sure you can fly with me up here?” I asked.

“Yes. I took Rowan and her things across your country. I can take you over the city and back. Do you think it will help?”

I reached down and scratched the place where her left wing connected with her body, and she shivered. “I do. We’ll be much better prepared for whatever comes next if I’ve seen where they’re keeping her, but I can’t afford to use more of my magic than I absolutely have to.”

Here in the heart of Darmish land the magic was thin and insubstantial, and I doubted it would restore me quickly if I used up my own stores. I would have to ration that power carefully.

Florizel raced down the hill, spread her wings, and lifted off. I leaned in close to her neck and wondered how Rowan had ever found the courage to do this with nothing to save her if she fell. The land stretched out below us, dimly outlined in the cloud-diffused moonlight. The city lay straight ahead, a wall of black behind which lights shone—streetlamps, windows, a lone sentry’s lantern bobbing across the top of the wall.

By the time we reached Ardare, I felt more settled on Florizel’s back. Though I was accustomed to flying, my stomach turned every time I looked down. It felt wrong to fly so high in my human body.

Don’t fall,
I reminded myself.
Don’t waste magic.
I tightened my grip in her mane.

Florizel reduced her altitude as we passed over the wall, keeping near the low clouds while allowing me to see. The buildings below us were packed tight into the city as though huddled together against the dangers of the world outside, leaving little room for streets or open spaces. Most citizens were staying indoors, out of the damp weather, but a small group had gathered on one corner. Several men cheered two who circled one another, lashing out in uncoordinated punches as they wobbled drunkenly over the stones.

Not a city on high alert. Not yet, at least.

A moment later we were past them, flying over a section of the city made up of tall buildings and a maze of narrow streets. We moved toward a wide, dark space. The river. A massive structure rose straight out from the middle of the water, lit by blazing torches along the tops of its walls and on the towers at each corner.

“That’s the place they took her, there,” Florizel called back. “Shall I get closer?”

“Please. But try to stay out of their light.”

Florizel flew upstream, following the course of the wide river that wound its way through the town and under its walls. The structure below us connected with the rest of the city via a wide drawbridge. A pair of closed doors in another section of the wall led directly into the river, doors extending below the surface of the rushing water, with no landing area in front of them. I saw no other way in.

Florizel pulled up and we flew higher, farther from watchful eyes below as we passed over. This wasn’t a single building but a thick, five-sided wall surrounding a yard dotted with more lanterns. Paths criss-crossed it in a star pattern, meeting in front of a few small buildings constructed of stone. Windows in the walls cast their glow on the yard, but it was still difficult to see much detail. The walls themselves were as wide as houses, and likely contained rooms of their own. A proper fortress.

Then we were past it, and flying over the river.

“Go around again,” I said.

Florizel turned.

I had just leaned back to get a better look at another set of water doors when someone whistled below, sharp and piercing. Florizel shied and darted higher into the clouds. I tried to hold on, but lost my grip on her mane, and she was gone. The fall sucked the air from my chest as I plunged head-first toward the river. I gritted my teeth and used a portion of my remaining magic to transform. My clothing fell toward the water, and I dove to catch my boots in my talons before they splashed down. I caught one, but the other hit the water hard, sending up a loud splash.

I veered away from the river as a beam of directed light moved over the space where my boot had disappeared. The light swept back and forth over the water’s surface, and I circled overhead, waiting to see whether we’d been spotted. This body’s night vision didn’t allow me to see much. I hoped the view from the tower wasn’t any better.

After a quick scan of the surrounding water, the light disappeared, and everything in the fortress returned to quiet. If the whistle had been a warning, they’d decided it was a false alarm—or so I hoped. I lifted higher into the air where Florizel circled, watching for me.

“I’m so sorry,” she whinnied.

I couldn’t answer, but turned back toward camp. She followed as we passed over winding residential streets with dark spaces I took to be yards and gardens—a luxury in a city such as this. I wondered whether Rowan would have lived there if her life had taken a different direction, if she’d never met me. Whether that would have made her happy.

Perhaps, until her magic killed her.

Kel, Cassia and Nox all stood and hurried toward Florizel as she landed, riderless, near the fire. I took another pass over the area to search for threats while she explained what had happened, and when I returned, Kel had pulled out the last of the spare clothing for me to wear. No coat, and I’d have to rely on thick socks to protect my feet, but at least I wouldn’t have to roam the city naked.

“Aren, I’m so sorry,” Florizel said again when I returned from dressing. “I thought they saw us, and that you had a better grip.”

“It’s all right,” I said.

Nox had been keeping occupied sharpening her daggers. She put them away, then turned to frown at me. Her lips pinched into a thin line, and she pulled me away from the group.

“How much do you have left?”

“Enough. Don’t worry about me.”

Her expression tightened. “What happens if you use it up?”

“I won’t have any left.” I smiled. I couldn’t let her see that for the first time in my life, I was concerned about losing my power. In truth, I’d felt some loss after just two transformations, like a section of my spirit had been carved away, far worse here than I’d felt it elsewhere in Darmid.

She folded her arms across her chest. “Very funny.”

“I’ll be careful.”

She looked back at Kel and Cassia, who were still talking to Florizel. “I assume you have vast stores of magic, being who you are and all. I just want to know that you’re not going to be left defenseless when we’re in the middle of enemy territory.”

“I’m hardly defenseless. I have trained in non-magical combat.”

“I’m sure. But it’s always been a game to you, hasn’t it? You’ve had your magic to fall back on.” She paced a few steps away and turned back to me. “I want you to be careful.”

“Because of your mission?”

“No. Yes, but…take care of yourself. I’m just starting to get used to you.”

I smiled reassuringly and thumped her on the shoulder. “Likewise.”

Florizel approached me. “Are you taking the horses into the city?”

“I hadn’t decided. They’d make for a faster escape, but I’m wary of taking them when we might need to hide, and they won’t do us any good once we reach the river. What do you think?”

Her eyes widened. An ear twitched. “I…me? I suppose I’d offer to keep them for you, should you leave them outside of the city. The big forest starts not far from the southern wall, I could hide them there. Let them forage. Make sure they’re ready to go.”

“Thank you.”

She lowered her head. “You won’t think me a coward for not coming to get Rowan?”

Nox patted the horse’s neck. “You’d be doing a great service by keeping the horses ready for when we all come out.”

Perhaps Kel was right about Nox. She cared. She wanted to help, to heal. She’d got me out of the dragon’s cave. I couldn’t blame her for hating our family and therefore being afraid of me.
Hard as a stone and stubborn as an ass, but…

“What are you looking at me like that for?” Nox asked.

“Nothing.”

She shook her head and went back toward the fire.

We slept for a few hours and rode for the city at midnight, avoiding the main road and approaching the forest by way of several farms’ back fields. Florizel wore her disguise and walked with us. Bats swooped overhead and a dog barked in the distance, but otherwise the world was still.

Florizel led us through the forest until we reached a road that cut through it. “I’ll take the horses back into the trees a little,” she said, “in case anyone comes by way of the road.” She pawed at the ground with a forehoof. “If you could just leave them able to forage, I think they’ll be fine with their saddles on. You’re sure it’s good for me to stay here?”

I looked toward the city, which we were close enough to that I heard the rush of the river as it passed under the wall. “I’m sure. Thank you.”

Nox tucked her daggers into sheaths at her waist, and Kel and Cassia took their hunting knives out. I did the same, and wished for a more substantial weapon. When my uncle had asked whether I needed anything, I hadn’t expected to be caught without my magic.

“What kind of travelers are we?” Cassia asked as she hung the strap of a small bag across her chest. She took items from the larger saddle bags to fill it. Flares, an extra knife, bandages. “Who approaches a city at this hour?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “We might have an easier time if we wait until morning.”

Kel nodded. “Those farmers must bring goods to market in the morning. We could slip in with the crowds.”

“And be slowed by them,” I said. “More people about means more eyes on us, even if they’re not paying any particular attention. Right now we might need to deal with one or two guards at the gate. In the morning there will be more. More people to make our escape difficult, as well.”

Nox bent to tighten her boot laces. “Guess we go now, then,” she muttered, and stood. “How will we get past those one or two guards?”

They all looked to me.

My body suddenly felt far too heavy, weighed down by the choice. Become a better person, the one everyone seemed to think I was capable of being, or use my darker gifts to accomplish something truly important? Idealism, or need?

I reached into my pocket to feel the comforting shape of the sea glass Rowan gave me, wanting only to touch it, to draw strength from a reminder of her. It was gone, washed away by the Darmish river.

I wouldn’t lose her, too. I straightened my shoulders, looked toward the city, and moved my moral line back.

“I’ll take care of the guards.”

“If you’re sure,” Cassia said.

I nodded. “They’re enemy soldiers, and this is a battle. If it’s an unfair fight, so be it. I’ll make it so they don’t alert anyone, and they’ll forget us.”

I would allow myself to turn this far toward my darker self. No further. As long as no civilians were harmed, I wouldn’t allow myself to feel guilt over fighting against those who actively oppressed magic.

With that decision, I felt myself come alive. Excitement like I’d felt when I twisted the minds of Severn’s sailor and fought the men in the woods flooded through me. I kept my expression neutral, but my heart raced. I wanted this, and badly. Darmish soldiers deserved no better than having their minds warped and broken, but I would hold back for the sake of my friends.

And what does that say about me?

I decided it didn’t matter now.

“This is an interesting turn-around for you,” Nox said.

I sighed. “Why—”

Kel cut in. “Perhaps we could leave conversation about Aren’s sliding scale of morals for another time. The night is passing.”

We approached the city by way of the road. Stones bit into my feet, but I kept up a steady pace. If this was the worst injury the night brought to me, I’d be thankful.

A single gatekeeper snored in his booth, muddy boots resting on top of a tiny, paper-covered desk. We might have slipped by had the metal gate not been locked. I rapped on the window, and he snorted.

“Hullo. Stop, now. State your business.”

Sleep-addled minds are as easy to read and manipulate as inebriated ones. I was in his thoughts before he so much as focused on our faces. “We have business here,” I told him, and searched his thoughts for a legitimate reason to let a small group into the city at night.

Visitors. Off to care for family in the south end, sick with this damned ague that’s brought half the city and three quarters of the king’s guard down. Idiots for coming into it. Had a hold up back on the road, couldn’t make it before nightfall. Robbed. Will file a report in the morning. Looking forward to resting tonight.

“That will do,” I told him. “You’ll remember it?”

“Yes.” He spoke in dull, emotionless tones. I hadn’t let him become frightened or excited. I pushed him toward irritation at having his nap interrupted, and his facial expression shifted, eyebrows bunching, mouth narrowing.

Cassia turned away.

“And our paperwork was in order, of course,” I added.

“Yes, yes,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I’ve got my own papers to attend to.” He stood and unlocked the gate. “Have a lovely evening, and best of luck to you. Apothecary’s got a little something to rub on your hands to kill the sickness. Nasty bug, that.”

“We’ll keep that in mind.” I planted the image of an older man in his mind, his middle-aged son, and their wives. Unremarkable folk he wouldn’t be able to describe in any great detail. “Have a pleasant evening.”

No one raised an alarm.

We moved into what I took to be the industrial section of the city. Low buildings surrounded us, forges and carriage makers and a host of dirty, unmarked buildings. Few homes, if any, and fewer prying eyes. I didn’t trust our luck.