He was so deep into his thoughts that he almost missed the next question Scholar Hestanna posed.
“And the magen,” she said, looking down at her notes, “the ones that you experimented upon, who had their magek siphoned. What happens to those who never get their magek back?”
Ramson’s head snapped up.
All the prayers to all his gods could not have stopped what came out of Ardonn’s mouth next.
“They die.”
Linn awoke to the trill of birdsong, the hum of cicadas, and the faint rush of a stream. A cool breeze blew in, carrying with it the scent of fresh rain. For a moment, she was ten years old again and back in her hut, listening to the sound of rain through the bamboo doors, tucked under the scratchy hemp blankets of her pallet. Ama-ka would be in the back room, steaming rice and salting radishes for them to break their fast.
As long as she kept her eyes closed, everything would be all right.
But the cold and the damp seeped in, and she lay not on smooth pine floors but on hard, uneven ground, parts of it digging into her back. Linn shifted, but for some reason, it was difficult to move.
And then the real world came crashing back. The Cyrilian ships. The fire. A dark ocean, an ally, blood on her legs.
Her eyes flew open and she shifted herself into a sitting position. The frantic pounding of her heart calmed slightly as Kaïs emerged from between two pine trees outside. He pushed aside the dangling moss that partially obscured the entrance to theircave. In his hands, he held a dead rabbit and a clump of crowndaisy stalks.
He paused as his gaze settled on her. “Are you all right?”
She let out a breath and nodded.
Kaïs sat down by her side. Gently, methodically, he set his catch aside and dumped an armful of kindling between them. “I saw movement down by the beach. I believe it is the Cyrilian ships we saw last night.” He withdrew a piece of flint from his tunic, unsheathed a small dagger, and began to strike. Thetchik-tchik-tchiksound somehow calmed Linn. “We will need to hike up higher into the mountains later to see them. You will need tofly.”
She looked at him, but he continued to focus on the fire, each strike of his blade cutting precise movements through the air. Again, she marveled at how well he understood her without her needing to say anything. Soldier to soldier, he’d known that the only way to keep her grounded was to keep pushing forward, to keep surviving, and to keep fighting.
“Sounds good,” she said, nodding, more to herself than to Kaïs. “We will find out what those ships are here for. And then we make a new plan.” Her eyes narrowed. “If they are Morganya’s forces, I highly doubt they are here on friendly terms.”
Kaïs raised his eyebrows, turning the rabbit over the roasting spit. “That woman’s name and the wordfriendlyshould not be spoken in the same sentence.”
In spite of everything, her lips curled. “Was that a joke?”
He looked up for a brief moment and matched her smile. “Not at all.”
Linn trailed her finger in little swirls on the ground. Thinking.“If they are attacking Kemeira, we must find out why. And once we find out why, we must go to Bei’kin to warn the Temple Masters at the Temple of the Skies.” She thought back to the ships she had seen in the night. Perhaps it had been the darkness, but…“Idid not see a large number of ships.”
“Neither did I.”
“If Morganya wanted to invade, would she not send a larger fleet?”
“I don’t think she is here to invade.” Kaïs examined the cooked rabbit, put it back on the spit. “Morganya has just lost a battle in Bregon. At least a large part of her navy was destroyed. Not to mention, Ana has sown the seeds of resistance back in Cyrilia.” He frowned. “It would be unwise of her to attempt an invasion so far across the seas.”
Linn felt a hint of relief loosening her muscles. If he was correct, her home was safe from Morganya’s clutches, it seemed—for the time being.
Her appetite opened as Kaïs handed her half a cooked rabbit. They tore into the meat hungrily, juices running slick down their faces and hands. When they finished, they doused the fire and packed the few belongings they had, using moss and mud to smear out any traces that they had been there. Then Kaïs carried her to the stream they had heard gurgling near their cave.
She sat by the water, scrubbing her legs in the soft currents. Her left one was still purpling from internal bleeding, her wound swollen and puckering with angry red welts where Kaïs had stitched it back together. She wasn’t sure how she would be able to walk, like this. She needed to find a healer—soon.
Not wanting to dwell on it, Linn looked up. The conifers and cypresses of the mountain wound higher and higher betweenthreads of gray mist until, at last, they disappeared. She had once run in these pine forests—song’lin,in her native tongue—with Enn by her side, plucking berries from branches and listening to the songs of birds.
Today, the mountain was silent.
Kaïs strode over to her. His hair glistened black with water. “We go,” he said, and reached out a hand. “May I?”
She let him slip one arm around her waist and one under the bend of her knees, wrapping her good hand around his neck as he lifted her.
Kaïs was tall and powerfully built; next to him, Linn was barely a slip of shadow. Even so, they made slow progress. The mist grew thicker as they climbed, the air colder, and Linn had the impression that they were walking through clouds. The air was heavy with impending rain.
