Catalyst Moon: Incursion (The Catalyst Moon Saga Book 1) Page 5

  “Ser, this information must reach Whitewater City,” Gray said.

  Dev's expression was grave. “Agreed. Commander Talon must be informed. Since the carriage slows us down, Rook and Flint, you both ride ahead and tell the garrison what Ser Gray has reported. The rest of us will bring Gray and the mages back.”

  The mages. Milo had nearly forgotten, which was silly because they were only an arm's length away, albeit behind the carriage walls. How much could they hear of the sentinels' conversation?

  As the women mounted, Dev gave a final few instructions. “Commander Talon will likely be at morning prayers by the time you get back, so you'd best seek out Captain Cobalt first.”

  Rook turned her horse toward the city, but Flint remained in place. Strange. She rarely hesitated. She always knew just what to do. “Can't I stay...here?” she asked.

  “You and Rook are the fastest riders,” he told her sharply, before adding, more gently, “You know I trust you.”

  It might have been a trick of the flickering torchlight, but Milo swore he saw his twin sister's face soften just a bit at the lieutenant's words. “The One keep you,” she replied, adding a hasty, “ser,” a beat later.

  As Flint shoved her helmet on and urged her own mount forward, Milo called to her. When she glanced back, he tried to meet her eyes beneath her helmet. “Be careful, relah.”

  She nodded once, then she and Rook urged their horses forward.

  ***

  The days grew shorter. On this morning in Whitewater City, prayers took place while the stars were dimming and the sun was no more than a notion. Within the temple of the One, Commander Talon knelt with her subordinates and absorbed the litany from the Circle priestess.

  “The One did not bestow life upon us. The One is life. We are bound to the One as we are bound to each other. We must live in perfect harmony with our fellow men and women, for that is the law of the One.”

  Slender iron torches rested between the columns that ran along the edges of the otherwise open-sided temple, casting a lambent light that flickered across the hematite armor of the sentinels. Incense drifted through the air, filling each breath with frangipani and sweet, crushed rosewood. Beyond the temple, the city spread across the eastern shore of the massive White River. This close to its mountain runoff source, the river frothed alongside the city before it began its journey down the falls. The rumble of falling water was constant in every part of the city, though it was fainter at the temple upon the hill; here, it added a gentle counterpoint to the elderly priestess' words.

  White and black robes fluttered as the priestess lifted her arms, her voice resonating through the temple. “The One is life, and life's mysteries are boundless. We mortals cannot hope to fathom the true nature of the One, but there is always harmony in the One's creations.”

  Talon took a deep breath and savored the scent of the incense and the sound of the rushing river. By now the rising sun had crested the horizon and its light began to spill into the temple, coating everything – the columns, the supplicants and the Circle clergy – in a sheen of gold. It was a beautiful light, warm and comforting, and Talon expelled her breath in a long, slow draw. The prayer was also soothing; she could recite the litany in her sleep, but it was always a pleasure to hear a gifted orator.

  Her fellow sentinels knelt around her, heads bowed as they listened. She took comfort in their nearness too. But not only sentinels were present. At this time, on this particular day, anyone from the third and fourth tiers were welcome in the One's temple, so merchants, artisans, guards and hired blades alike had gathered for morning prayers.

  An outsider would perhaps view Aredia's tier system as unfair, but it was another example of how the One worked in balance. This belief – no, this knowledge – had served the sentinel commander well throughout her twenty-eight years of life.

  “As a shaft of sunlight pierces a crystal to create a multitude of colors, so did the One provide us with our gods, who are present in our daily lives, who watch over us and protect us during our greatest need.”

  Beside Talon, Hornfel, one of the burnies, shifted in place. Talon cleared her throat, softly, of course, and he stilled. Good lad.

  However, a moment later Hornfel shifted again. When she slanted the young man with a warning look, he nodded towards her other side, where a familiar silhouette stood between the columns at the temple's edge.

  Captain Cobalt would not disturb his commander at morning prayers with good news. The peace Talon had gathered like armor began to crack as she rose and stepped lightly toward the edge of the temple. Out of respect for the gods, Cobalt had tucked his helmet in the crook of his arm, and he did not speak to Talon immediately. Together, they descended the marble steps that led away from the temple.

  As they slipped into the quiet darkness of the early city morning, they passed across the band of golden light creeping up the steps, making its way to the rest of the buildings. Roosters crowed and shop doors jingled as they opened to welcome a new day and the customers it might bring. Someone was baking bread. It was too peaceful a morning for something to go wrong.

  Naturally, Talon braced herself for the worst.

  Once they were at the base of the stairs, well away from the temple, she gave the captain her most appraising look. “What happened? Has Gideon Echina escaped Dev and his squad?”

  “No, ser. However, Dev's squad found a Starwatch sentinel late last night, a woman named Gray. She claims to have been part of the escort for that crippled mage who was to transfer here.” Cobalt's jaw tensed and his scar seemed to tighten across his left cheek as he recounted the tale of the missing mage and the Canderi attacks.

  By the time he'd finished, Talon's breath had caught, the implications sweeping through her like a winter wind. She reached for her daggers on instinct. “How badly was Gray injured? Will she survive the journey here?”

  “Rook seemed to think so.”

  “Good. I'll want to interview her.” Talon took another deep breath to quell her agitation. “I cannot fathom why the barbarians have broken the Avalanche Truce now, after three centuries.”

  “Nor can I.” Cobalt frowned again. “But apparently these particular barbarians were...unnatural.”

  “Unnatural? In what way?”

  “Gray seemed to think they were...possessed by demons, or some such madness.” Cobalt shook his head. “At least, that's what Rook and Flint reported. Honestly, ser, I'm not sure what to think.”

  Nor was she. But one problem at a time. “Is Gray certain that the mage escaped? The Canderi could have easily overwhelmed a crippled, unarmed woman, even one with magic.”

  Pale blue eyes met hers; agitation lingered in the captain's gaze. “Gray believes magic was involved because Mage Halcyon wore the cuffs, but she and Stonewall – the sentinel on shadow duty at the time – vanished during their escape from the Canderi. Gray claims she saw them disappear ahead of her on the road, and couldn't find a trace of them.”

  Worse and worse. How had Mage Halcyon done magic while bound? Had she somehow orchestrated the Canderi attack? Had she done magic upon the blue-eyed warriors too? Talon thought back to the transfer request she'd received from the Starwatch commander; nothing within suggested that Halcyon was a troublemaker, at least not on the order of Gideon Echina. Halcyon had no record of escape attempts. Nevertheless, Talon's heart lashed against her rib cage.

  Calm down, Talon chided herself. Focus. Think. She could only act here and now; everything else was in the One's power. She ran a hand across her dark blonde hair, idly checking that her braid was still neat even as her mind strode several steps ahead. She'd have to send a missive to her superior officer at the Silverwood garrison. Anything relating to potentially dangerous mages needed to be reported as soon as possible.

  Talon drew herself to her full height, only a few inches short of being eye-level with Cobalt, and kept her features impassive despite the churning in her gut. “When Lieutenant Dev returns, have his warriors accompany your squa
d to where Gray's was attacked. Start your search for the mage there – she can't have gotten that far. And I want to know exactly what happened to those Starwatch sentinels.”

  Cobalt's nodded, though his voice held a question. “Dev's squad will want a rest.”

  “They'll have to manage without. I'll not risk sending a small group out alone until we have more information. Most other sentinels will be on duty in the bastion, and I don't want our mages to know anything is amiss. Given Gideon's history, the renegade will no doubt make a bid for freedom the moment our backs our turned.”

  Cobalt ducked his head. “Aye, ser.”

  “And for what it's worth, alert the city guard and have them keep an eye out. If by some miracle the Starwatch sentinel brings in the mage, I want to know immediately.”

  “Yes, Commander.” Cobalt's hand crept to the vials of hematite at his belt. “Dev's squad might need another dose. At least Dev will; the burnies can probably go without.”

  Talon fought a wince. “Tell them to take only what they need. I'll send for more as soon as I'm able.”

  “Are our stores running low, ser?”

  “No,” she said quickly. Perhaps too quickly. “I simply don't want them wasting any.”

  Before he left, Cobalt offered her a warrior's salute: forearms crossed, a slight bend in the waist. The sound of his boots echoed on the cobblestones as he hurried off. Sunlight winked off of a nearby window; the light had finally made its way down to the city proper which meant that the morning prayers were over, and the day had officially begun. With a sigh, she hurried back up the temple steps, to lead the others to the barracks.

  There was no use in delaying the inevitable. High Commander Argent would not be pleased about any of this, but she had no choice but to inform him. Like the others, she was duty-bound not only to the gods, but to those mortals that she served.

  It was a duty she could not deviate from.

  FIVE

  In Whitewater Bastion...

  Eris Echina sat upon her sleeping pallet and studied her hand. Pale skin, bony fingers. Nails worn short from gnawing on them when she was nervous – which was more often than not, particularly of late. Faded scars marred her wrist: an elaborate star that branded her as a second-tier, with back-to-back twin crescent moons beneath. The mark of a mage.

  It was a good hand. Strong, when it needed to be. Gentle, when preferred.

  Now, though, she wanted it to change completely.

  Not just her hand. Her entire arm. No; her entire body needed to be...different. Had she been an ordinary, ungifted woman, such desire would have been fruitless. There were no gods to answer prayers or fulfill wishes. But there was magic, and Eris had her fair share.

  Magic could not exist in a void. The first step to filling that void was intention. Eris flexed her hand and studied the accompanying movement of muscle and bone, while in her mind's eye, she overlaid her frail, human skin with feathers. The outermost layer should be thicker, meant to catch the bulk of the wind, while the feathers closer to her body should be downy-soft. All should be a deep, glossy black. The tendons that ran between the muscles and joints needed to be light and flexible, more so than those of a human arm.

  She could see the shape of her wings. She could feel the wind in her feathers, hear its whistle as the currents carried her over mountains and through cotton clouds. As it always had, magic coiled within her, eager for a release, and the particles of her body trembled with anticipation. Ready. Waiting.

  Eris took a deep breath to gather her concentration and reached for her own particles. Slowly, carefully, she layered her will upon them, coaxing them to change.

  They did, albeit gradually. There was no pain in shape-changing, but rather a prickling sensation, like blood rushing to a limb after holding it at an angle. Eris' eyes were closed, but her vision swam with particles as her body shifted. Even her bones felt lighter. The faintest kiss of air rippled across her skin as if heralding an approaching storm. Something deep within urged her to throw herself upon the wind.

  Perhaps Gideon was right. Perhaps she could do this.

  Thoughts of her husband pulled her mind in another direction entirely. Focus, she told herself, flexing her hand again. Don't you want to fly?

  The answer was simple: more than anything.

  But in his fashion, once Gid had entered her mind, she could not set him aside. Eris' concentration slipped away; so too did the chance of flight. Ordinary Eris again, she peered out of the window of her and Gid's room. If she craned her head, she could barely see past the high, hematite-embedded walls that surrounded the bastion to make out the first threads of dawn. Gid and Sadira should have been back hours ago.

  Her stomach knotted. Had the sentinels finally turned against the mages? Had Gid done something stupid on the mission to aid a nearby village? Either way, how long would it be until she knew the truth? The sentinels were not known for their consideration of their prisoners. Missions like the one Gid had gone on were a part of a bastion mage's life, but there was no way to contact the man she loved should anything go wrong. Her husband could be killed on the road and she would not know unless a sentinel deigned to pass along the news.

  Eris exhaled and tried to quiet her thoughts. Worrying was useless. It would be a better use of her energy to start her daily chores of caring for the bastion's feathered livestock, or even, as was the stronger inclination, to visit the bastion gates and try to get information out of the sentinels stationed there.

  Assuming the sentinel would even talk to a lowly, heretic moon-blood without being ordered to do so.

  But before she could do anything, the door creaked open and her husband stepped inside, coat and boots bundled beneath his arm. Her heart leaped and she stood. “Gid.”

  “Shit. I tried not to wake you.”

  Relief warred with affection as she shook her head and crossed the room; nothing mattered more than being with him again. When she pressed herself to his solid chest, he dropped his belongings, wrapped both arms around her, and inhaled deeply. The tickle of air on her neck made her shiver, but she pushed herself closer to her husband.

  “Welcome back,” she murmured into his shirt.

  “Glad I am to be here, with a welcome like this.” Gideon's deep voice sent a pleasant tingle through her body.

  His hand skimmed down her hips, a silent plea for her to look up. Eris obliged him, and smiled as his eyes met hers. She loved his eyes: large and dark-brown, nearly black. They fit his coffee-dark skin perfectly, highlighted his full lips, tightly coiled hair, and bright smile. He had the most beautiful smile.

  Like now, when he cupped her cheek. “So you did miss me.”

  She arched her eyebrow. “Did you think otherwise?”

  “Well, we've been married a few months now...” He winked at her. “Isn't that when the first glow of true love is supposed to die?”

  Eris cast her eyes to the wooden beams of the ceiling. But her smile was wide. “You've been reading poetry again.”

  “Maybe you inspire the poetry within me.” Rather than give her a chance to reply, he drew her mouth to his for a bruising kiss, and the truth of his sentiment was revealed. It was always so, with Gideon. There was no guile to him. No deception. He was exactly as he held himself out to be. Eris relaxed against him, completely, and allowed herself to become lost in his kiss.

  When they parted, she gave him a cursory looking-over to make sure he wasn't injured. A touch of her hand and a few moments' concentration were all she needed to know he was well, for she could examine the particles that made up his body.

  Gid waited for her to finish before casting her a lazy smile. “Satisfied?”

  “Not yet. But you only just got back. I'll give you a few minutes to gather your strength.”

  He laughed. “You have such a generous spirit, love.”

  His shirt was rumpled from their greeting, so Eris smoothed out the creases. “What took you so long to return?”

  Gid's smile faded, but his
eyes seemed to shine with excitement. “Long story. First, I did it. I finally caught up with Drake.”

  His pleasure resonated within her heart and she found herself smiling too. “At last. You've been trying for months, now.”

  “Aye.” He chuckled. “He and his Assembly friends were disguised as Sufani – can you imagine? It's a brilliant idea; no one pays the nomads any mind, they already conceal their faces, and they travel everywhere.”

  “What did he say?”

  “It was difficult to speak much with the sentinels so close, but he agreed to meet with us at a pub in the city – The River Redcap.”

  Agitation fluttered in her belly, but she took a deep breath to stave it off. “When?”

  Gideon's smile turned a bit nervous and he hugged her waist. “Three days from today.”

  “Three days?” she said, pulling back to gape at him. “Are you mad?”

  “According to some,” he said, winking at her. “But I prefer the term, 'opportunistic.'”

  Shaking her head, Eris frowned at him. “Gid, be serious! That's not nearly enough time to prepare.”

  “I told him as much,” Gideon replied. “But Drake's got his own tasks with the Assembly; he said the next time he could be back in the city wouldn't be for months.”

  Eris rubbed her temple. “Fine. Three days it is. How will we out of the bastion in the first place?”

  “The sentinels have no clue about the passage in the wall.”

  “We don't have much of an idea, either,” she replied. “We've not done much more than poke around the opening. We don't even know where it leads. Besides, they could have found out and barred it from the outside. I doubt they'd tell us.”

  Gideon brushed back a strand of her hair, stick straight and black as a crow's wing. “Perhaps, but we have advantages they don't, my lovely bird.”