Chapter 18
Ivy
Iknow the woman in charge herself has come to meet us when the cloaked figure approaching through the dusk raises a thumbless hand.
“Ivy,” Voleska says in a low voice. “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again. I’m glad my doubts were wrong.”
She steps into the shadows that drape the front of the shuttered shop where Casimir, one of the loyal soldiers, and I are standing. This small town about halfway between the Temple of Tranquil Skies and Voleska’s home city of Pima is quiet enough that it seems to have been mostly ignored by the Order of the Wild. But a few patrons are still coming and going from the pub down the street with bursts of spirited voices.
The corner of my mouth quirks upward with a wry smile. “I’m glad too. And it’s good to see you’ve survived the last several weeks as well.”
Voleska dips her head to Casimir in acknowledgment. “I hope the rest of your crew has made it through all right?”
I think of the men I left on the other side of the Eppun border with a mix of fondness and worry. “For now. We’re doing our best to stay that way. Is Emor well?”
A note of affection comes into her voice. I’ve never been sure of her exact relationship with her partner, but it’s clearly close. “Oh, yes, and spitting mad that I’m getting to have this adventure without him.”
My smile tugs wider. “You can apologize to him for that on my behalf. Thank you for coming all this way to speak with us. We didn’t think going right into Nikodi would be wise.”
The co-leader of the main resistance group in Julita’s former county lets out her breath with a hint of a huff. “A reasonable suspicion. Ever since King Konram’s death, the Order members have gotten even bolder. We’ve shaken them up as well as we can, but it’s harder to rally more people against them when there’s no clear alternative.”
It seems word about Petra’s speech in Florian hasn’t reached the far edges of the country yet.
I hesitate, glancing at Casimir. His nod reassures me that he hasn’t seen any sign that Voleska’s goals have shifted.
She’s always been just as dedicated to ousting the scourge sorcerers from her country as we have.
I fold my arms loosely over my chest. “What if I told you that we do have an alternative? That it’s just a matter of clearing the way so they can safely retake the throne?”
Voleska’s pale eyebrows leap up. “What have you got up your sleeve now?”
“The king’s heirs didn’t die. We have a queen ready to rule, if we can present her without the scourge sorcerers murdering her too.”
I don’t get into the specifics of exactly who that queen is, since explaining about the former Prince Dunstam’s transformation and period in hiding would get a little complicated. We can fill Voleska and her allies in on the details when it’s relevant.
Voleska’s eyes have widened. She rubs the stump of her thumb along her jaw, beneath the scar on her cheek that speaks of past troubles she’s survived.
I don’t think her life before the uprising was that much more comfortable than my own on the streets. And I can’t imagine what it was like to give up a chunk of her hand and receive no gift in return—to be a child of twelve realizing the gods had judged your intentions as too selfish.
Even without magic, she’s proven to be a formidable force. No matter what hardships she’s faced before, she’s risen to the challenge of protecting her home.
“That’s a very good thing,” she says in an awed voice. “I should have figured you’d end up in the royal court with all the stubborn heroics you’re fond of. What is it that you think our people can do to help?”
The fact that she leaps straight to offering to get involved is one of the reasons I wanted to reach out to her. When we crossed paths with the resistors in Pima weeks ago, they approached us rather than the other way around, eager to strengthen their efforts against the Order of the Wild.
Voleska’s group is nothing if not dedicated.
My men and I found solid allies during our journeys across the country, even while we were fugitives. And now I can use that luck to Petra’s benefit.
We need to gather as large a resistance as we can, stretching across the entire country, if we’re going to effectively challenge Lothar’s self-appointed authority.
I pull my posture a little straighter. “We’re hoping to undermine the scourge sorcerers’ power and expose the crimes they’ve committed at the same time. There’s a farm a couple of hours from here where the Order appears to be hiding several of their sacrificial accomplices. We want to steal them away, and it’ll be easier with assistance.”
Casimir speaks up in his normal, warm tone. “And I’m sure we’ll have plenty of future missions we’d appreciate your people joining us for afterward, if they’re on board.”
Voleska rubs her hands together. “Anything to stick it to the Order and see them finally knocked on their asses. When do we get started?”
I peer through the thickening dusk behind her. We were hoping to act as early as tonight. But as far as I can tell, she came alone, even though the message we passed on mentioned that we’d welcome more of her colleagues to “collaborate” with us.
“I guess that depends on how long it’ll take you to get a decent force out here?—”
The resistance leader chuckles. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. I’ve got a dozen friends waiting on my word right here in town. Didn’t want to have them all stick their necks out until I knew what the story was.”
Relief sharpened by a tingle of excitement sweeps through me. “Fair enough. We can descend on the farm tonight if you’re up for it. The rest of our people are waiting across the border, closer to our target—we already have a plan worked out.” With multiple options depending on whether we brought anyone back with us and how many.
Voleska nods and motions to the far end of the road. “We’ll meet you on the southern road at the edge of town in ten minutes.”
I hold up my hand to stop her. “You know, I realize you and Emor have a lot you’re dealing with back in Pima. I didn’t expect that you’d pitch in here personally.”
“Oh, I’m not missing this. And I’d like to see with my own eyes who all I’m sending my people to work with.” Voleska flashes us a grin and darts off down the street.
When I look at Casimir, he’s smiling. “I don’t think anyone could be more committed than she is.” He motions to the soldier who’s stayed still and silent during our conversation, only there to intervene in case of a threat. “Come, let’s get to the horses.”
By the time a distant bell has rung in the second hour after midnight, some twenty of us are clustered in a patch of forest just down the road from the farm Delfis directed us to.
One of the temple’s devouts who has a gift for calming nerves has come along to help ease the sacrificial accomplices through what’s technically a kidnapping. Four of the soldiers stand among us, along with Stavros and Rheave—and Voleska’s dozen resistors. The plan would have been a lot harder to pull off without them in the mix.
Petra almost insisted on joining us, but between Stavros, Tinom, and me, we managed to convince her that ensuring she stays alive overrides any concerns about sharing the risks in our mission. She has several guards with her back at the temple.
Tinom’s magic will conceal her if there’s any significant trouble—and hopefully protect Alek as well. Although he could probably lose himself amid the books in the temple library without any trouble. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s still down there reading by lantern-light right now.
Being the one among us most experienced at running military-style operations, Stavros has taken the lead. He’s already spoken with Voleska’s people to get an idea of their strengths and is now splitting our group into four.
He points at two of the groups. He assigned Filip to one of them, presumably to keep the Order defector and possible traitor away from the most essential parts of the plan. “You and you will go to the left and right of the farmhouse, staying several paces from the walls. Set the fires and keep out of view until our enemies come running to see what the matter is. Disarm and disable them however you see fit.”
The former general swivels toward Casimir, one of the soldiers, and a couple of Voleska’s leaner followers. “You four will get the wagon into place and come forward to help usher the sacrificial accomplices over there.”
He turns to face the rest of us, including me, Rheave, and the devout with the calming gift. “I’ll be leading the final group right into the building. We’ll deal with any other sorcerers on the premises and retrieve the sacrificial accomplices. They’ll be distracted by the fires, but that doesn’t mean we should be careless. The faster we can take them down before they realize we’re there, the better.”
I nod, my heart thudding. My magic wriggles between my ribs and tugs at my gut, but I squash it down.
I’ve pulled off plenty of schemes like this without relying on it before. If I’m going to risk my sanity, it’s not going to be to enhance my stealth skills.
Stavros makes a sweeping motion with his prosthetic hand. “Move out.”
Along with a few of Voleska’s best fighters and the rest of our soldiers, I follow Stavros through the trees and skirt the edge of the forest until we’re directly across from the farmhouse. There’s still about a minute’s dash across open ground from here to the farm’s low stone wall.
Moonlight casts a faint glow over the terrain. A few dark figures prowl around the property’s perimeter.
Stavros drops his voice to a murmur. “As soon as the fires flare, we run for the wall, two at a time, on my signal. Stay low and as quiet as possible.”
I wet my lips, anticipation thrumming through my veins.
All at once, flames burst through the darkness to the left of the house. An instant later, another fire roars up on the opposite side.
Shouts ring out as the house’s sentries dash to investigate. A few more figures hustle out of the building to join them.
Stavros taps Rheave and me. I fling myself out of the woods.
We dash across the grassy ground and the road that lies between the forest and the farm. More shouts carry through the night along with clangs and thumps of combat, but I don’t let myself glance either way.
All that matters right now is the path ahead of us.
We hit the ground on either side of the gate, crouching below the level of the wall. As more figures careen to join us, I pull the knife from the sheath at my waist.
Stavros arrives last and gestures for us to fall in with him as he eases open the gate. We dart along the path through the now-empty yard to the front door.
The hinges squeak at Stavros’s push. I wince inwardly.
“What’s going on out there?” someone calls from up the stairs. They must assume it’s their comrades returning.
My power flares in my chest as abruptly as the flames outside, and I lose a couple of seconds as I tighten my hold around it. My fist clenches, pressing against my chest.
A brief lance of pain shoots through my lungs, and I have to suck in a breath against a gasp.
Most of my companions have already rushed forward. Rheave shoots a crackling arrow up the staircase, and a body crumples against the banister.
Stavros prowls down the lower hallway. As he lunges into a room, two of Voleska’s people hurry to follow him while the other creeps up the stairs alongside Rheave.
From the muffled grunts and groans that follow, they’re taking down any remaining scourge sorcerers with brisk efficiency. Recovered from the momentary backlash of my magic, I motion the devout over to the narrower staircase I spot leading down through a gloomy doorway.
“This way,” I whisper. “The accomplices might be in the cellar.”
And so might more scourge sorcerers. I keep my knife in my hand as we slink down the stairs, my ears pricked for any sound in the space beyond.
There’s a door at the bottom, keeping whatever’s below shut away. My skin crawls.
We’ve almost reached it when the scuff of footsteps above has me spinning around. A woman who isn’t one of our companions is just poking her head through the doorway.
She hisses at the sight of us and jerks her hands as if to direct some kind of magic. But my hand moves faster.
My knife whips through the air and plunges straight into her throat.
As our attacker collapses at the top of the stairs, the devout pales. Obviously I should be the one to deal with the body on our way out.
I test the doorknob and find it turns smoothly. I push it open to reveal a wide, dark room where cots and the figures lying on them form only vague impressions in the darkness.
I’ve already snatched my other knife from my boot, but no one springs at us. A couple of the figures stir beneath their sheets.
Carefully, the devout lights the small lantern sitting on the floor just inside the doorway. The flickering glow illuminates eight sleeping figures who don’t react to the light at all.
Of course not. They’ve all sacrificed their eyes along with so much else.
“Start waking them and guiding them up the stairs,” I murmur to the devout. “You’ll probably need to tell them that they’re being called on to serve their great purpose or something like that. I’ll clear the way and come back to help you.”
At his nod, I clamber up the stairs. At least with their blindness, I only have to move the fallen body out of tripping distance, not out of view.
As I wipe my retrieved knife on the woman’s tunic, Stavros barges back into the front hall. He takes in the scene with an approving tip of his head.
“The rest of the house is clear,” he says.
I point to the cellar stairs. “We found the sacrificial accomplices—I’m going to help bring them up.”
“I’ll make sure you can get to the wagon safely.”
I dash down to the cellar to find that the devout has already roused all of the sacrificial accomplices. They went to sleep wearing their shrouds, but the fall of the fabric reveals the misshapen forms beneath. They’re sitting up, a few getting to their feet, mumbling with confusion.
A quiver in the air tells me the devout is employing his calming magic. I try to pitch my voice to be as soothing as possible too. “Come on now, everyone. Let’s get up the stairs, and you’ll accomplish everything you could have wanted to.”
I have to help a couple of the armless forms stand up. They stumble toward the stairs, all of them missing something from their lower extremities, whether merely toes or an entire lower leg.
With my hand on one of the mutilated backs, I support the accomplice’s balance going up the steps, then hustle back down to assist another.
A choked sound reaches my ears from above. When I return, I find one of Voleska’s people staring at the lurching procession with her fingers pressed to her lips.
I offer her a tight smile. “This is why we’re here. Why we’re fighting. To make sure this doesn’t keep happening.”
She draws herself straighter and swipes at the glint of tears in her eyes before catching an accomplice in mid-lurch. “Let me get you out the door. There’s a comfortable wagon waiting.”
“Anything to serve,” the accomplice mumbles. The devotion in his little-used voice makes my throat constrict.
“You’ve done so well already,” I tell him, not knowing what else to say.
Just beyond the farm’s gate, Casimir greets the accomplices with much more grace than I’m capable of. “Thank you for joining us. We’re going to ask that you climb up here in the wagon—that’s right. I’m sorry for the sudden visit, but what you’re going to do is so important for Silana.”
I step back, letting him and the devout take over. Gentle reassurance has never been my forte.
The rest of our group gathers around the wagon, returning from their initial posts. One of Voleska’s men is wrapping a bandage around a shallow gash on his arm, and a couple of the soldiers are sporting bruises on their jaws, but it looks like we got through the assault without any major injuries.
That thought has just passed through my head when an arc of light flashes through the air toward the edge of our group.
I don’t have time to do much more than sense the vicious tang of the magic in that energy and react. No blade can stop that killing bolt.
I thrust out my arm with a surge of my magic.
Training and practice come through—even as I swat at the conjured attack, my mind reaches toward the wood we left and visualizes a branch being pulled toward me in the reverse of how I’m pushing the assault away.
Wood cracks, and the arc of light bursts apart into a shower of sparks.
They dissolve in the air just inches from the faces of the two men they nearly struck. The soldier takes a step back with a grimace, his eyes flicking to me with an almost accusing look as if I’m somehow to blame for the initial attack.
Filip gapes at the spot where the attack fizzled out before his gaze slides to me too.
“It would have killed me,” he says. “I hardly saw it coming.”
I inhale slowly, my body tensed for any sign that this one jab of magic has addled my mind. “I want us all leaving this place as unharmed as I can manage.”
Was it worth the trade-off? I don’t know. But faced with the question, I can’t imagine standing back and letting two men simply die to preserve some small shred of my sanity.
Even if the soldier is still eyeing me like I might explode at any second.
A twinge of queasiness passes through me. How long will it take before Petra’s followers from Florian pass on what they’ve heard about me to Voleska’s people?
It doesn’t matter, I tell myself. What matters is that I’m here, doing what’s right for the country, whatever they end up thinking of me.
Rheave has already charged off in the direction the attack was flung from. There’s a sizzling noise before he lets out a resolute grunt. “That sorcerer is definitely not hurting anyone else now.”
Casimir shoots me a concerned glance from where he’s guiding the last of the sacrificial accomplices into the wagon, and I smile in return to say I’m okay. Then I clamp down on the rest of the power squirming inside me.
Just a small push. Not that big a deal, and I controlled the consequences. I saved a couple of lives.
But I never want to get back into the habit of using it for anything I don’t absolutely have to.
Voleska sets her hands on her hips, watching the devout pull the curtains shut on the back of the wagon. “Well, hopefully this’ll put a little dent in the Order’s influence. I wonder if it’ll affect Lothar’s festival plans?”
My head jerks around. “Festival plans?”
She cocks her head with a swing of her sandy blond ponytail. “Hadn’t you heard? The Order of the Wild’s been announcing it all over the place in the past couple of days. On the next full moon just a few nights from now, he’s holding a country-wide party to celebrate King Konram’s death.”