03 - Sworn (40 page)

I smiled. “Maybe it is.” The poor girl certainly deserved something for her suffering—not that any gods I knew operated that way. “Are you coming back with us? If you want to stay here, that’s fine. We’ll miss you, but—”

“Naw, I’m coming.” She handed her sword to the fat kid. “You’re captain now, Mister Tubbs, but only until I come back. Don’t make me whup you again.”

“Godspeed, Deadeye,” he said. I had to cover my mouth to hide my smile.

“Rowan, you should go ahead,” Patience told me. “I need to get my stuff and say goodbye to their Ma and Pa. Don’t want them to worry if I just disappear.”

“By all means.” She ran off, and I waved to the boys. “It was lovely to meet you, gentlemen. I hope to never meet you on the high seas. Do you mind if I borrow this?” I picked up a large, heavy tarp from the ground, one that was stiff and dusty enough that I thought it hadn’t been needed in a while.

After a whispered discussion, they said I could take it. “But beware, ye’re indebted to pirates now,” said the taller boy.

“I won’t forget. Thank you.”

I walked slowly, and Patience caught up with me before I reached our friends.

“See that?” She grinned. “See how I can move?”

She had indeed made good time. “I did notice. Most impressive.”

“Their Ma gave me these new boots that hold my feet tight, and soft socks for inside. Running doesn’t hurt so much.”

She still limped a little, but Patience’s gait was smoother than it had been. Such a simple solution. I ruffled her hair. “Thank the gods for Ma.”

By the time we returned, Florizel had flown to the forest and retrieved Ruby, who waited under the shelter of the tree line. She looked over the group. “How will this work?”

I dropped the tarp on the ground. “I think you might need to carry me and Patience, and we’ll have Victoria on Florizel. Will this help?” I knew she could carry one of us in each forepaw, but couldn’t shake the mental image of her dropping one of us while landing.

“Might be more than just the two of you,” Aren said. “My arm’s still not healed from having the feathers ripped out, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to fly.”

“I can take two smaller humans,” Florizel said. “I’ve rested.”

Victoria looked nervously from the horse to the dragon. “If it’s all the same, I’d prefer to ride with Florizel. I can’t say the thought isn’t terrifying, but it’s more like what I’m accustomed to on land.”

Aren closed his eyes. “Fine. Victoria, you and Patience ride on Florizel.”

“I’ll be careful,” the horse promised. “This lady’s more slender, anyway.”

It was true. She appeared healthier than I’d seen her in ages, but Vic still hadn’t put back on the weight she lost after the children’s deaths. She’d have to hold on tight so as not to blow away.

“Guess we’re flying together this time,” I said to Aren, and took Patience and Victoria’s bags from them. They mounted Florizel, and she took them through her paces around the field. Without bags to bulk them up, they looked secure enough.

Ruby’s scaled lips opened into a grin, and Aren pulled me a few paces away.

“I need to say this aloud,” he said quietly, “just so I understand. We’re about to entrust our lives to a dragon and the tensile strength of a bedsheet?”

“No. A sheet of thick canvas.”

He paled. “I see. That makes me feel much better.”

We spread the tarp out on the ground and loaded the bags into the middle. “How would you like to do this?” I asked Ruby.

“Sit on the bags. I’ll bundle you in the cloth and carry you that way. If my claws poke or you can’t breathe, just yell.”

Aren and I did as she instructed, and massive claws picked up the corners of the tarp. Ruby gathered them at the top, leaving plenty of space overhead, even if we did get squished at the sides. She held the top of the huge package tight and lifted us gently. The bundle swayed, unsupported from beneath.

“Wait,” Aren said. “How do we yell if we can’t breathe?”

There was no time to ask Ruby. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, we were thrown together and jerked upward as Ruby shot into the sky. A moment later Ruby’s other forepaw cupped the canvas and the bags beneath us.

“Rowan?”

“Yes?”

“Your elbow’s in my—”

“Sorry.”

We shifted around, trying to get comfortable, and settled for Aren being squashed between the bags with me sitting sideways, legs across his. I leaned against him and rested my head on his shoulder, pressed in tight by the side of the makeshift bag we now occupied. “Is that comfortable for you?”

He yawned. “No. But it’s good.”

Neither of us kept our eyes open for long. We’d been walking all night, we were emotionally exhausted, and the air in our little bundle was warm and relaxing. The light filtering through the canvas and the colder air coming through the gaps overhead weren’t enough to keep us awake. Aren’s body relaxed, and his breathing slowed. I felt myself drifting off soon after.

I woke to the sound of a woman screaming, followed by several people shouting. Ruby’s grip beneath us disappeared, leaving us swinging in the air. My stomach leapt into my throat and refused to leave until she touched down and set us on the ground.

“Quiet!” she roared.

I pushed my way out of the bundle and into the afternoon sunlight, and Aren followed as soon as he’d extricated himself from the straps of our bags. “It’s fine!” I yelled. “She’s not going to hurt you!”

Florizel shuffled nervously nearby, with her passengers still mounted. “This is the right herd, isn’t it?”

I spotted a few familiar faces among the crowd. This was our group, no doubt. “The dragon’s not here to eat you!” I shouted. “She’s a... a friend.”

Ruby snorted, but said nothing. I hoped I hadn’t just insulted her.

Goff strode forward with his sword raised. “You won’t find Ulric here,” he said. “Nor his daughter, nor the turncoats from Belleisle. I’d suggest taking your dragon and going now, if you don’t want trouble. They weren’t welcome here, and neither are you. I don’t need more useless mouths to feed.”

I looked beyond him. They’d set up their camp again, this time outside of a small town in a farmer’s field.

“So you kicked them out because they weren’t contributing?” Aren asked, unable or unwilling to hide the disbelief in his voice. If there had been a split, Ulric had certainly left them behind. Goff was obviously hurt.

“Aye,” he growled. “So piss off.”

“Patience!” A woman’s voice called out from the crowd. Victoria helped the girl to the ground, and she ran to the young woman who had spoken. “I was so worried!” She looked to us, and her lips narrowed until they disappeared completely. “Patience belongs here. Not where you’re going.”

Patience shook herself free and ran back to me. “I can fight,” she said.

Aren placed a hand on her hair. “You can, but you don’t have to. Stay here. These people need you to watch out for them.” The words would have sounded like a shallow attempt at placating the girl but for the sincerity in his voice and expression.

“But you need me,” Patience said, almost pleading.

“You’ve done plenty,” I told her, and crouched to speak more quietly. “If Ulric has left these people, they’ll need you again. Your work isn’t finished. Besides, do you really want to see that old bastard again?”

She smiled at the word, but only for a moment. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “You’ll find me when it’s all over, though?”

“I will.” I hoped I’d be able to.

Patience nodded and stepped back. “Then I’ll stay.”

Victoria dismounted and spoke quietly to Aren. He nodded.

“We’ll leave,” he said to Goff. “We just need a short rest.” He turned and followed Victoria farther out into the fields. I jogged to catch up, leaving Ruby grinning at the villagers and blowing an impressive amount of smoke out of her nostrils.

“Will this do?” Aren asked, and Victoria nodded. “I’m going to step aside, just in case.”

He took my hand and pulled me a good distance away as Victoria walked ahead.

“Is she using magic?” I asked.

“She’s going to try. See what she can do here, away from her familiar source.”

Victoria looked back at us, then out over the fields. She reached up to untie the knot she kept her long hair in, letting it blow free in the wind.

I took a lock of mine and twisted it between my fingers. “She’s done this before. She should be able to control it. Right?”

A warm breeze passed over us as Victoria stooped to touch the plants at her feet.

“No good?” Aren called. She shook her head. “Try again,” he said. “Less force this time. Go easy.”

She walked to a new patch of ground, leaving a broad swath of wilted plants behind her.

“She’ll be fine,” Aren said. “But the magic here may be of a slightly different quality from what’s in her garden, and stronger.”

Green shoots sprouted around my aunt. Her feet disappeared in a mass of vines covered in broad leaves.

“Rowan?” she called. “Help?”

It took me a moment to realize she needed more water. I closed my eyes. It must have rained recently. The earth felt heavy with it when I reached out with my mind.

I reached for the peaceful feeling of Victoria’s garden, and the magic flowed, if somewhat hesitantly. I pulled water a little at a time from the nearby forest instead of the fields. This was more difficult than it had been at the well. There, the ground water had been available but low. Here it was a matter of drawing it out of sodden patches of mud and out of tree moss that held it like a sponge. Sweat broke out on my forehead, and the effort pulled my breath from me.

No hurry,
I reminded myself.
Just let it come.
The depletion came, too, but I refused to fear it. Instead, a bright spark of hope lit up within me.

I can work with this.
Given a peaceful place to practice and enough time to recover between attempts, I thought I might learn to perform great magic.

If only either of those things seemed guaranteed once we caught up with Ulric.

A tiny stream snaked over the field, shimmering in the sunlight. It broadened slightly, never much more than a trickle, but it was enough. When it reached Victoria I released it, and even from a distance felt it soak into the ground.

The plants grew again and produced fat squash in several varieties as the growth spread in an even and expanding circle of green around the Sorceress. Victoria spun and clapped her hands together. “It worked!” she called.

Aren followed me as I walked to meet her. “Nicely done,” he told me quietly.

“Difficult, though. I don’t think I could pull it from the trees themselves, or try—” I shrugged. I’d been about to mention using my power against enemies, but had no desire to bring back those associations. “I’ll get there.”

We moved on to the orchard, passing fields where the plants were still developing in an ever-widening circle. Victoria’s magic left a lingering trail of influence behind her, just as it had in her garden after she stopped visiting. She seemed to have none of the hang-ups I’d struggled with after I left Darmid. She’d been through all of that already, and now accepted her power fully. If only it had been that natural for me. Even after all the work I’d been doing, it seemed to come easier for her.

“It probably helps that she has more life experience than you,” Aren said, and rested a hand on my waist before pulling it quickly away. “She likely knew that the Darmish were wrong about magic long ago, and just had to accept it.”

“I thought you couldn’t read my thoughts.”

His lips pulled up at one corner. “They’re written on your face. You’ve never been good at keeping a secret.”

A balding man in work clothes approached from the direction of the farm house, hat in hand, but kept a respectful distance as he watched the magic unfold. His eyes widened as ripe peaches, plums, apples and gorganfruits appeared on the trees. I plucked a fat peach and bit into it. Absolute perfection. Juicy, sweet, firm. The insects and elements hadn’t had a chance to interfere with its growth. I picked another and carried it to the farmer.

“I hope you don’t mind,” I said, and offered it to him.

“No, no,” he said, and accepted the fruit as gently and wonderingly as if I were handing him a newborn child. “It’s just that my grandfather did this sort of thing, and I used to love to watch him. I think the land still carries the blessing of his magic. We do better than other farms, though I don’t use magic myself. Thank you.”

Victoria approached, dazed and stumbling. “I think I overdid it.”

Aren took her by the arm and led her to a shady spot to sit.

“You’re welcome,” I told the farmer on her behalf. “If it’s not too much trouble, do you think you might share some of this food with the people camped in your back field? They’re friends of ours.”

He bit into the peach and closed his eyes as he savored it. “I will, though these would fetch a fine price at market in Luid.” He looked down at the fruit. “Or would have, if the city were open. The high-born and gifted do love treats like this.”

“It’s closed off, then?”

“Oh, yes. Lord Severn ordered supplies brought in a month ago, from all over the country. Just yesterday they closed the gates. No one in or out save for soldiers, as I’ve heard it.”

That didn’t bode well for Ulric. “I hope he paid you well for your goods,” I said.

“Well enough. But he took much of what we had stored away, and harvest is a long way off. A man can’t eat gold coin. Please thank your friend for me, and tell the others that if they help me with this first harvest, I’ll share all I’m able with them. I could use a few extra hands around here through the summer, anyway. We’ve lost a lot of good workers since they started ordering magic-users to the city.”

I thanked him, and started back to the encampment with Aren and Victoria. Vic walked with shaky steps. “I definitely overdid it,” she said, but smiled.

“You’ll find your balance,” Aren said. “Yours is an impressive and useful gift, but please try not to give so much of yourself that it hurts you.”

She nodded. “It’s coming back to me now. The magic. Sometimes I still catch myself resisting, pushing it away. Old habits are tough.”