Authors: Honor Raconteur
Tags: #Honor Raconteur, #Advent Mage series, #revolution, #magic, #slavery, #warlords, #mage, #Raconteur House, #dragons, #Warlords Rising
Harder, yes, but not impossible. Shad and Aletha both had
taught them how to escape just in case they were in a situation like this one.
Not that anyone had ever thought they would be. This was not at all the grand
adventure that he’d signed up for. He was wishing, too, that the note Becca had
left behind actually did give people a hint of where they had gone. They might
need the rescue.
Becca eyed the bars, mouth twisted
up and to the side as she thought hard. They were sturdy, those bars. With her
magic, she could force her way out as easily as snapping twigs. But without it,
she couldn’t do a thing about them. Not barehanded, anyway. The question was,
how to get past the bars?
Strategy was admittedly not her
strongest talent. She was decent at it, but most of the time her battle
strategy came down to:
Charge!
Only sometimes was she able to look at a
situation and see what Shad or Aletha had taught her, and able to use actual
tactics. They had certainly trained her on how to break free if captured, but
right now, she wasn’t seeing any sort of escape routes. Even if she saw one
right this minute, she wasn’t sure if it was the best idea to move. They didn’t
know the routines of their guards at all. The first day they’d been here, they
were out cold for most of it.
Today was their first full day in
the slave pens and she planned to use it for observation. It was doubtful that
the routine from day to day would change much.
After they had a better idea of
what they had walked into, then she would figure out how to get past those
bars. Maybe Trev’nor had an idea. He had learned quite a bit of blacksmithing
from Krys and Garth over the years; surely all of that experience and knowledge
would pay off. Now would be a good moment for it.
The doors clanged open and an official
looking man with a beer belly and rich silk robes strode through. He wasn’t
dressed like anyone else Becca had seen in this country but the way his nose
was lifted in the air, an orange peel pressed against it, told her that he was pompous.
And a slimeball. If he didn’t like how it smelled in here (she personally
didn’t blame him for that part, she didn’t either) then why not put some water
and soap in here? Heavens, the whole crowd in here could use the wash.
He stopped in front of their cage
and pointed at them. “What are you?”
Not who? Where are you from? Becca
slowly stood. At least he spoke in perfect Solish so she could understand him.
“My name is—”
The guard at his side moved like a
viper, almost a blur of motion, and struck her in the mouth. Or tried. She
dodged and it was more like a graze, but it still smarted and left a trickle of
blood inside her lip.
“What are you,” the official
repeated, bored, as if this reprimand for not answering his question was only
to be expected.
“Weather Mage,” Nolan answered
carefully, coming to stand just in front of her, subtly pushing her out of
range of the guard’s reach. “I’m a Life Mage. He’s an Earth Mage.”
“Weather?” he repeated with the
first flicker of curiosity. “Life? There are no types of magic like that.”
So he was an idiot on top of it
all. Becca gingerly dabbed at her lip with the cuff of her sleeve and glared at
him. She didn’t feel like straightening him out.
The guard lifted a triangle that
all of them recognized, holding it up so the official could see for himself. Of
course, for each person, it glowed a different color. The men looked at the
triangle for a long moment, not commenting.
Finally the official let out a
growl of half-frustration, half-resignation. “We will have to ask the warlord
what to do with you two. For now, you, Earth Mage. You will help rebuild the
walls. Come out.”
Trev’nor did not look at all happy
to be separated from them. The idea frankly terrified Becca. But he didn’t have
much of a choice and he stepped out gingerly. This wasn’t fast enough for the guard
and he yanked him completely free of the cage door before slamming and locking
it shut again.
Becca went forward, a protest
half-formed on her lips, but Trev’nor shot her a look that made her freeze in
her tracks.
No one was waiting to see how she
would react. They trooped back out, taking several other slaves with them, and
left with a very loud clang of the door.
Shifting, Nolan put an arm around
her shoulder and hugged her against him. “This might be good, Bec. In order to
do any magic, they’ll have to take at least one amulet off of him. He’ll also
have a chance to really study the outside. If we know how many soldiers there
are, and where everything is, we’ll know how to break free of this place while
minimizing the danger.”
All of that sounded good, but it
still felt very wrong to send Trev’nor out there alone. “How could they
recognize what an Earth Mage is but not our types? I mean, it makes sense with
me, but not with you.”
“It’s a very interesting question.
I’m puzzled myself. I think we can assume that they’ve seen Earth Mages before.
Which means there is a Rheben line in this insane country somewhere.”
“But not a Von line.”
“Right.” Nolan took a good look
all around them, regarding the slaves as they huddled together or slept. “Wait,
I’m not sure we can assume that. There is a city up here called Von after all.
Maybe they just haven’t seen one down here? Argh, I don’t know. I have this
feeling that later, after we’ve gotten more information, that this will make
perfect sense.”
She really hoped that he was
right. Right now, Becca was desperately short on answers and she didn’t
appreciate that feeling at all.
Hours crept by, slower than a slug
moving uphill in a snowstorm. Without windows, it was hard to have any sense of
time, and it bothered her. A lot. Becca’s habit was to check the skies every
morning and evening, making sure that the weather was moving like she wanted it
to. Not being able to do that was like an itch that she couldn’t scratch.
If she didn’t get to see the sky
soon, she might go stark raving mad.
Nolan spent his time popping his
knuckles, then his neck, and finally his toes. After he went through all of his
joints three times, Becca finally rounded on him. “Will you stop that? My
joints are aching in sympathy just listening.”
“You try shapeshifting on a
regular basis and see what happens to your body,” he returned easily, not at
all bothered by her attitude. “My joints are a little confused sometimes on
where they’re supposed to be.”
Becca nearly snapped that he was
the all-powerful Life Mage, he could fix that problem himself, then realized
that with those amulets on, he couldn’t. Feeling contrite, she asked in a gentler
voice, “Do they hurt?”
“It’s more annoying than anything.
There’s no pain involved, it’s just discomfiting.” Nolan shrugged as if it was
no big deal.
She had a feeling there was a
little lie mixed in with truth but let it lay.
The door clanged open and the
slaves taken earlier trudged back in. Becca shot to her feet and huddled near
the doors. Nolan just as quickly stood, but grabbed her by the shoulders and
hauled her back. She resisted automatically against the restraint until she
realized that the guards were ready to smack her again for being too close to
the doors.
Trev’nor looked as if he had been
in the suns all morning, cheeks sunburned, dusty, and had only four amulets on
instead of five.
Becca noticed this with interest,
as four amulets meant that he could indeed work some magic. Before she could
blink, the guard whirled Trev’nor around forcibly and a slave magician—slightly
better dressed than the others—dropped an amulet around his neck. Then he
yanked off the other four and replaced them.
Shrieking hinges, so they realized
that with mages the amulets wouldn’t last as long? Frustrated, she obeyed the
beckoning motion and allowed the amulets to be replaced. She expected the
guards to leave at that point but the guard pointed a finger at her and Nolan
and asked in a thick, accented Solish, “What can a Life Mage do?”
Nolan seemed to expect this
question as he had a ready answer. “Heal. Anything living, I can heal.”
The guard seemed interested in
this. “Heal what?”
“Anything.”
“Anything, anything?”
“Anything living. I cannot do
anything with the dead.”
Wise man for saying that. Becca
had a feeling that they would try to get Nolan to raise dead soldiers if he
hadn’t clarified. But she also found his answer interesting. Healing was
certainly within a Life Mage’s abilities, but it was considered to be one of
the lesser talents. They could do a great deal more than just heal. What game
was he playing?
Satisfied with the answer, the
guard stabbed a finger at her. “You?”
In a split second, she decided
that Nolan’s answer was a safe one and it would behoove her to answer likewise.
“I can make it rain. Or sunny.”
He went alert at her words for
some reason. “Big storms?”
“No,” she denied, which was
certainly the truth if they expected her to work with four amulets on. “Soft
rains. Planting rains.”
Not being able to call on storms
to use as a weapon was a disappointment, but in this desert climate, any rain
was very welcome and he still seemed quite excited about her answer. “You both
work tomorrow. Bring in rains and you will heal our soldiers.” With that order
issued, he did an about-face and left.
As soon as the door shut, Becca
caught Trev’nor’s arm and asked urgently, “What was it like outside?”
“Not good.” Trev’nor dropped
wearily to the ground, arms dangling over his knees. “They seriously work you
hard out there. I wanted to tell them that if they would just take off another
amulet or two, I could do the work they were wanting a lot faster, but the
slaves working with me advised against talking much at all. You talk when you
have something important to say and that’s it.”
“Guards?” Nolan pressed.
“I couldn’t get a good headcount,
sorry. I tried. But they had me outside the city and the guards with us were
basically breathing down our necks. They were nervous about escape attempts, I
guess, but where can you possibly go?” Trev’nor shook his head. “Me, I could
make it fine, after the amulets fell off. But anyone else in here would
struggle to survive. It’s literally sand and rocks for miles and miles. I can’t
see even a small pond in any direction.”
Literally suicide to escape the
city without their magic. “Easy to run down escapees, I would imagine.”
“Sure. There’s no place to hide.”
Trev’nor rolled his head around on his shoulders. “Busted buckets, I’m tired.”
“What did they have you doing,
exactly?” Nolan asked him, sinking down to sit nearby. “Building a wall, they
said.”
“Apparently they were attacked by
a neighboring city or warlord or something about three months ago. There’s
holes in the walls, although not many. They were very impressed that I was able
to repair them so easily.” Grumbling, Trev’nor added sourly, “Although if I’d
had my full magic, I would be done already. At this rate, it’ll take another
three days.”
“I doubt they’re going to release
your magic just to get the job done faster,” Becca informed him dryly.
“Pity, but true,” Trev’nor agreed.
“They asked me some questions about you two, and I basically told them what you
just did, so I’m glad you gave the same answers. It didn’t occur to me that
they would double check what I said.”
“It’s rule number five,” Nolan
said with a cheeky grin. Seeing that expression seemed so out of place in this
dismal environment that it was more comical than it should have been. “Never
let your enemy see your full potential.”
Oh, was that his game? “You do
realize that Shad’s rules are totally whimsical and the numbers change
depending on the color of the sky and whether he’s had coffee that morning,
don’t you?”
“No, the first five stay pretty
consistent with us,” Trev’nor disagreed. “The top two especially.”
“What, ‘I always win’ and rule two
being ‘You always lose?’” Becca snorted. “I don’t think those rules help us
much at all in here.”
Nolan shook his head, disagreeing.
“Don’t assume anything just yet. Rule five came in pretty handy just now.
Shad’s got more experience in situations like this than all three of us
combined. I think we need to judge every situation by what Shad would do and
try our best to emulate him.”
“Our chances of surviving are
better that way,” Trev’nor agreed quietly.
The words struck like a physical
blow and it wiped out any sign of mirth. Becca had to blink hard, several
times, as the conversation made her desperately wish Shad was with them now. If
anyone could get them out of this mess, it would be him.
Trev’nor snuggled into her
shoulder, using her as a pillow. “I’m bagged out. Wake me when dinner gets
here.”
Under normal circumstances, Becca
would have pushed him off for treating her like furniture and pinched him to
boot. But her heart wasn’t in it and she let him stay where he was. In truth,
she needed the contact after worrying about his safety most of the day.
They absolutely had to find a way out of here. Soon.