Chapter Forty-Five
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“On the bright side,” Selene said. “This could all be over in the next hour, eh? And we can find a dragon to take you home.”
I shot him my best, angry glare. Though I don’t know why that irritated me. But these men have tended to confuse me a lot.
“Ah, don’t give me that, lad. We take care of these and the remaining wizards will see going forward would be more than foolish.”
I considered the joy slappin’ the man would provide me. But, he might slap back, with one of those lightnin’ bolts. So I just shook my head. “I’m the one bleedin’ in my saddle. Why do I have to ride five miles to come up from the rear?” Which is to the north of the manor.
“As I said—”
I blew out a breath that made my lips flutter. “I don’t need to hear the same, lame excuse a third time.”
Rutland hadn’t talked up his own plan, but he finally turned an expression toward me that ended the conversation. I shook my head and kneed my mare forward. So they wanted me out of the way, safe, so they didn’t have to worry about me. I’m worth more than a distraction. I can draw from the ethereal, support their efforts. Maybe I can’t throw a stinkin’ lightnin’ bolt, but I could— Well.
That got me stuck in a mental quicksand.
I swung my heel to further motivate the mare, and she lurched forward into a run that threw me back and forward in the saddle, and a dull groan screeched through my lips. I hope they didn’t hear me. This thoroughbred isn’t like the paddock pony I’d been ridin’ before. Spread my legs even wider across the saddle. I’d never walk again.
Tryin’ to ignore my agony, still, it seems dumb to me to divide our power. But then I’ve never participated in a majic duel before. How could the three of them rushin’ toward the manor as divided assaults be taken as a broader attack? Made no sense to me. A broader attack?
My mare balked and turned sharp to the right to avoid a narrow row of the olive grove that would have shredded both of us. The horse galloped north, directly into the valley, and turned on her own accord when a wide row, designed prolly for carts durin’ harvest, granted us access to continue west. Stinkin’ smart horse. I wonder if I could keep her, without anyone noticin’.
I threw, what Morgan calls his mind’s eye, behind me to eavesdrop on my three friends. As angry as I was, they were watchin’ out for me. But I didn’t want to be watched out for. Wished to be accepted as a man among men. I grimaced at that. Had no right to expect that. Two weeks ago I didn’t even know there was such a thin’ as the ethereal, much less that I could reach it and draw power from it.
The saddle thrumped me hard in the arse as the horse managed a ditch used to divert rain water. The jolt wrenched my gut and slammed sore bones.
And they got to rest while I raced to the north side of the manor, to give their foes a majic presence at their back to worry about.
Ten minutes later my mare struggled up the steep, south face of the shallow valley. I recited the few curses I know as my rumpus experienced a whole new insult, leanin’ against the back edge of the saddle.
Told myself to think about somethin’ else. Like what? Anythin’ but majic. They warned me not to draw from the ethereal until I was in place, so they wouldn’t sense me workin’ around. I was sposed to be an unexpected, unknown. Whatever that is. They make up thin’s to keep me quiet.
Add that word, expression, to my list.
I really need a handy piece of paper and a pencil at hand. Tried to remember the other words I intended to ask about, but none of them came to mind.
Definitely allowed my mind to wander. Maybe I should concentrate, so I didn’t wander straight into a party wieldin’ bows armed with steel-tipped arrows with two-inch widths. That was an unpleasant thought. Those thin’s less likely to go clear through me, but cut me to shreds. I glared at the trees. If only I could use my slight skills to seek out antagonists, whatever they are. Prolly another made up word.
I crested the hill, rode another ten minutes, and reined the horse east. Had I gone far enough? My gut tightened when I decided maybe I hadn’t, but I didn’t turn. Couldn’t draw from the ethereal to looksee. Rutland had done somethin’ to drain my walkin’ stick of, what was the word—residual majic. So no wizard would sense me unless they were really searchin’.
I sat tall in the saddle and gave the mare a double heel to hurry her. She threw her head, unhappy with the hard ridin’ we’d done this mornin’. I agreed wholeheartedly. But the effort’s nearly over. Maybe, hopefully.
But an inconsistency in Rutland’s plan, at least what he shared with me, struck me hard enough I saw blotches of gray in front of me.
Why wouldn’t the wizards be searchin’ for them? The wizard who just arrived knew we were only minutes behind him and his son.
Rutland wouldn’t have overlooked that. He just wanted me out of the way. A wave of anger spread, and without meanin’ to draw it, majic streamed into me. The walkin’ stick belched it, surprisin’ me. Even when I’d tried to pull, it had never come to me in such a wave.
And I sensed somethin’ I didn’t expect. More presence.
More than the three of them within the manor. Three more ridin’ toward the manor from the east. I grunted a pair of my favorite oaths. Sorry, Mama. Almost yanked the mare to a halt, but let her run free, tryin’ to decide what to do. Go back and warn the others? What if Rutland truly needed me where he claimed? But they didn’t expect to have to face six wizards.
How long before Morgan and the others sensed these new foe? Would ridin’ back be cowardly? A real man would face the three before him. Right? The new fear shut the flow from the ethereal. I shouldn’t have drawn it, but now that I did, I needed all that I could get.
I shut my eyes tight and sought out the help of Giba, my rune champion. But the doorway had closed. Open. Open, I shouted mentally.
Ya idjit!
And it flowed again. Did the anger empower it?
I thought of Selene, Morgan and Rutland facin’ six wizards to escalate my anger, and the walkin’ stick vibrated with the incomin’ stream. Though my eyes remained closed, I sensed the orchards around me, the color of the leaves, grass, and turf, a merchant cart miles to the north, besides the new riders approachin’ the manor.
The three wore all black, just like Selene and Rutland. Not very subtle.
I kicked the mare into her fastest run, felt her pain, discomfort of the soft loam under her hooves. I rode directly into the surprise comin’ from a quarter-mile ahead. The three wizards had of course sensed me too, and stopped. They searched about for an ambush.
They couldn’t locate me. Huh.
Not all wizards can locate a fellow as I can, as Selene, maybe. Blake and his friends had found me and Morgan by followin’ Selene.
They only sensed the general flow of majic.
So, Rutland wasn’t simply protectin’ me. He didn’t lie, at least not on purpose. I smiled, and opened my eyes, which didn’t actually make me feel as though I saw more. Why? I’d seemed more aware with my eyes closed. What’s happenin’ to me? Skin isn’t my own. Feel somethin’ different, another bein’, changed by the surge of ethereal plungin’ into me.
The fear from the three on the other side of the grove grew into panic. They argued. Which way? What should they do? Another ridiculed his peers. Someone I hadn’t noticed.
A fourth.
I was so involved takin’ in the thoughts of the three who glowered their essence at me, I overlooked the other man. No. A female.
Louisa!
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