Nonnegotiable
Conflicts and misunderstandings between wizards are bound to arise. But it’s important to keep open and honest communication to resolve any issues.
Fundamentals of Magic by Eroland Lockhart
THORA’S A PUNCTUAL one, I’ll give her that. She’s at the Crux precisely at first bell. I’ve barely sat down before she enters with a creak of armor and a clipped, “Good morning, Grandmaster.”
Arlon is sitting back in his chair, kaffa in hand, though he hasn’t touched his breakfast. To be fair, neither have I. Today’s task weighs like a rock in my stomach.
“Ah. You really did mean first thing,” Arlon says before he motions to the chair next to me. “Please, sit. Would you like something to eat?”
“No, thank you. I would, however, like to get this over with,” Thora says, crossing her arms over her leather cuirass. “I’ll remind you that we are leaving in only a matter of days.”
“And I’ll remind you that you didn’t need to come all the way out here.
I said I could handle it,” Arlon says, dropping his professional politeness.
He takes another sip of kaffa, completely unaffected by the Guard Captain’s glower.
“You can either join me or just loom there, but I’m finishing this cup first, Thora. ”
Thora rolls her eyes but must decide the fight isn’t worth it. She takes the seat beside me, and I hide my grin behind a sip from my own mug. Knowing Arlon, he’s not going to rush for her sake.
“Would you like a cup, Captain?” I ask politely.
Her scowl only gets more pronounced as she must come to the same realization. “Fine.” I’m graced with a tight smile. “Thank you, Galiva.”
I get to my feet, catching Arlon’s grateful look. “I’ll be right back.”
Gods only know what they say to one another behind closed doors, but I don’t linger to find out. Instead, I head to the mess hall. It’s growing busier by the moment, a slow trickle of people heading in for breakfast.
I fill a mug of kaffa, and though something tells me Thora takes it black, I pour a small cup with milk and grab a bit of sugar just in case.
I gather everything and am just wondering what else I can do to delay returning to the endless sniping match between Arlon and Thora when a voice says, “Hey, Galiva, thanks for looking at that anchor point the other day.”
“Anytime, Emil,” I say and step aside to allow the shorter wizard at the steaming kaffa pots. “Any issues since?”
“Not a one,” he says, flashing me a grin as he fills his cup. “And Sergei and I have been testing it... pretty heavily.”
I chuckle even as something catches my eye through the window to the kitchen.
What the hell are Olbric and Dom doing in there? Olbric looks impatient, his eyes darting around before Dom leans over to whisper something to him. For some reason, he’s wearing his magiline tunic, a full necklace of spells hanging around his neck.
“Excuse me, Emil,” I say, setting my tray down on the table as unease pools in my stomach. I step closer to the window as a little cook appears, carrying two hefty parcels bundled neatly in cloth. She hands them to Olbric with a smile.
Travel rations. And not for just a night or two. No, that’s enough to cover them for weeks.
Panic grips me as I turn and run back towards Arlon’s office, Thora’s kaffa abandoned. Did Olbric find out about the terms for the talks? Is he running?
There are too many questions, but there’s only one solution. For the sake of the peace talks, Olbric can’t leave.
I skid to a stop in front of Arlon’s door, panting hard. Arlon sets his cup down, already half to his feet. “Galiva?”
“Come with me.”
He circles his desk, kaffa forgotten. Thora is quick to follow as she gets up. “What’s going on?”
I force aside my guilt, my fear, as I tell him, “Olbric’s leaving.”
THIS MORNING HAS BEEN nothing but delay after delay, and I try to hide my annoyance as Dom and I wait for our rations. Felicity said she would have them ready for us first thing in the morning, but it’s now past first bell, and we’re still waiting.
When the plump cook finally returns, she looks a little frazzled, face flushed. “Apologies, Master Olbric. It’s been a hectic morning. But I’ve gotten you everything you asked for, plus an extra slab of bacon and some jam. I’ve wrapped it well enough, but try not to jostle it too much.”
Dom takes his parcel, eyes flying wide at the weight. He gives me a look, and alright, maybe I went a little overboard. He’ll thank me when he never has to miss a meal.
“Thank you, Felicity,” I say as I trade Dom for the lighter bundle. It’ll be good to keep that one visible - an acceptable ration for a day trip.
“You two take care,” Felicity says. “And get home soon.”
“We will,” I say. “Thank you again.”
I ignore my pang of guilt for telling her this was a standard sort of assignment. Even though I forgave her for leaking information about me to Feisal, I only now really consider us square. She’s done us a great favor with all of this.
I discreetly cast an illusion around the bulk of our rations before we head to the stables. Yet finally luck gets on our side, because Symon already has Mo and Valar tacked up.
“Y’all said first thing in the morning, so I figured I’d get ‘em ready for you,” he says. “You’ll be out most of the day?”
“On a day trip to Belton to help with a few things,” I say as I approach Valar. Symon goes to Dom, helping him lash his pack to the saddle, and I discreetly tie my own invisible parcel down.
You’re all set,” Symon says as he gives Mo a pat. “I’ll be sure to have grain waiting for them tonight, then.”
We mount up, and Valar dances a little, as if sensing my excitement.
But with the back gates open, the thrill of it all bubbles up inside of me until it feels like I might burst. My heart pounds painfully against my ribs, that intoxicating mix of excitement and triumph that burns like a fire.
But I don’t celebrate yet. We just have one last dune to cross.
“Damn, who’d you piss off to get put on the early shift?” Dom asks as we approach the gates.
Nikolai glowers, annoyed already, but hopefully that means he’ll want us out of his hair quickly. “Where you two heading?” he asks before his eyes land on Dom’s pack. “I didn’t get any notice of any new assignment leaves.”
“We’ll be staying overnight in Belton,” Dom says. “There’s a shortage of field hands, so we’re giving some help with harvesting.”
It’s already snowed in the mountains, and with Harvest’s end rapidly approaching, it’s important to clear the fields before the first freeze hits the foothills. It’s a perfectly reasonable excuse, but Nik doesn’t move, arms crossing over his chest.
“I’d feel better if I could see the assignment order.”
I’m not sure what’s raised his suspicions, but Dom promised me he could handle the guard.
“You can come watch, if you want,” he says cheekily as he leans forward in the saddle. “Should be pretty hot and heavy work.”
I would swear that Mo is a paid accomplice. He nudges his nose charmingly against Nik’s shoulder. Nik rolls his eyes even as he gives Mo’s nose a pat. “No, thanks. Afraid I’m busy here.”
“You sure?” Dom tsks. “I’d even take my shirt off for you.”
The guard’s scoff almost sounds like a laugh, but he steps aside. “Fine. In case weather hits, you have until tomorrow evening to get back. It’ll be chilly, so best keep your shirt on.”
Dom chuckles, giving a mocking salute before he heads off across the bridge.
“Hey, wait,” Nik says, holding a hand out to stop Valar from following. “Your cinch is loose.”
From the bridge, Dom stops, casting me a nervous look. I nod him on even as unease prickles at the back of my neck. I swing off of my saddle quickly to deflect Nik’s help, not wanting him to bump my invisible pack. “Thanks, I got it.”
Then, a voice booms across the yard.
“Olbric!”
I whirl to see Arlon storming towards us. Galiva and Captain Thora flank him, but I barely register them over the sight of Arlon’s anger. It’s like lightning seeking a target, and having that anger focused directly on me sends a chill down my spine.
My heart leaps into my throat as I shout, “Dom, run!”
Dom turns in the saddle before the color drains from his face. He hesitates, Mo dancing anxiously under him.
I grab my spells, sending an evocation crashing into the air overhead.
The Crux’s horses are good with magic, but Valar’s always been a little flighty, and the sound makes her take off across the bridge with a start, shoving past Nik.
The sound seems to break through to Dom, and he swears before he kicks Mo into a run.
Things seem to move at half speed as I turn to look at Arlon.
“Stand DOWN, Olbric,” he booms.
Retreating isn’t something I’m used to doing. But if I can get past the gate, I can block the way. Nikolai’s the only one standing in my way, and he doesn’t look like he’s built for speed.
I’ll be quicker.
I surge forward, ducking past him. A transmutation is in my hand, ready to block the way after me, but fingers snag my magiline citran. Yet trying to grapple with it is like trying to grab oil, and I squirm out of Nik’s grip easily.
Triumph rushes through me as I dart through the gate. Dom is already across the field, Valar close behind.
The transmutation glows in my hand, ready for my command, just as something tangles around my ankles.
It makes me lose my grip on my spell as I yelp in surprise, disoriented for only a moment as my momentum topples me.
The citran flashes as my shoulder hits the ground, but I recover quickly, grabbing my necklace.
A boot connects, kicking my hand away from my necklace. I shout in pain as that same boot lands on my wrist, pinning it to the ground. Then, a naked blade is at my neck. Fear wipes my mind temporarily clean at the familiar kiss of metal against my racing pulse.
“Don’t move!” Nikolai barks.
“That is ENOUGH!” Arlon’s voice is suddenly very close, and he sounds angrier than I’ve ever heard him. He appears in my field of view to bodily shove Nikolai off of me. “I won’t have your people manhandling my wizards!”