“She wants the pair, you fools! Now go, find me the girl!” Terioc’s frustration was only half feigned. He had the artificer, now he needed the girl. He needed both of them before any other agents could get to them. He was fairly certain she was nearby, so he’d shooed the soldiers off in another direction. Resourceful witch that she was, she couldn’t hide in the underbrush from him forever.

Lise felt like the thundering of her heart would give her away as she stared at the boots that showed through the tangle of leaves and vines that concealed her from sight. They turned and started away from her. She took a soft, deep breath and tensed. Further, further...fading into the distance. Now or never, Lise. Now or never. She exploded from her bolt-hole, feet aiming to take her in the opposite direction of those feet and down an old path to the house.

“Not so fast, this time.” Fingers closed around her right wrist as it trailed behind her in an iron grasp. Her two options were to try and pull away, which was not much of a likelihood, or prevent injury to her arm by turning toward her captor. Lise swung around, curls swinging and eyes blazing. Terror had turned to fury. She had no idea what was going on, but there was no damned way she was just going to let it happen.

“Let me go.” She hated that she had to look up at him to say it, but her chin obliged with an outraged upward tilt on its own accord.

Terioc eased his grip somewhat, but it was still firm as he studied her. “My apologies, miss, but I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

Another tug of her wrist was again unsuccessful. “I won’t ask politely again. Let me go. I won’t go with you. I won’t.” A tremor of fear had wound its way through the words while she was distracted by trying to figure out exactly what color his eyes were. Mentally, Lise cursed herself and yanked at her hand again. Unanticipated, the warm grip was released and her momentum send her stumbling backwards over a root and onto her backside. Rather than remain where he was or merely tower over her with a hand out to assist, Terioc settled on the ground next to her, once she’d righted herself.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot. My sincerest apologies for our abrupt introductions, but it was the only way I could reach you and your friend to protect you.” He offered one weapon scarred hand to her. “Terioc of Draivalon, at your service.”

Dark brown eyes flickered back and forth between the hand and his face with suspicion. It hardly seemed prudent to sit and make conversation with someone who’d chased her better than two miles from Nighthaven, but perhaps if she could keep him talking someone would find them. Cautiously, she reached over and shook the proffered hand firmly. “I feel like you know my name already, but I’m Malise Izel.” Her eyes narrowed. “As for protection, you certainly have an unusual way of demonstrating good will.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m sure you can imagine the Empress wouldn’t take kindly to one of her favored generals working against her. Illusions of all types are often necessary, Miss Izel. But I can protect you, if you’re willing to hear me out.”

Natural curiosity was beginning to win over both fear and prudence. “Protect us from what, exactly? I don’t understand what’s going on here. We’re just celestial cartographers. So....so utterly unremarkable that there are almost none of us left.” She pushed a hand through her hair, affording a brief look at her profile, mouth drawn in and brows furrowed in confusion and consternation. Lise turned her head to meet his gaze fully. “What would an Empress want with us?”

“It’s not you, in particular, you understand. It’s the potential you represent. Certain of her agents have heard about some particularly interesting developments that would bring Igain to a state of strength that she would find...troublesome in her goal of acquiring its forests and shipyards.”

“Viverra. Of course.” Her gaze turned heavenwards, but late afternoon occluded any answer they might offer her now. “I thought the empire was in dire straits- too dire to conquer another kingdom, certainly. And why would you want to work against her?”

She heard him shrug as he replied, the faint slither of chainmail against leather. “It is. My duty is to Draivalon first, its ruler second. And right now, its ruler happens to be a demented hag that needs to be stopped before she destroys what little is left.” He leaned back on his hands, gaze following hers upwards. “Your project could propel Igain years ahead of her neighbors, you know. If the reports we’ve been getting are even half true. It’s in my best interests to see it come to fruition to keep Cadan in her place- or remove her entirely and replace her with someone sane.” Idly, he wondered what this odd little country saw up there. He didn’t doubt the power of their ’mancers, but it was still surprising to see they had survived this long without real challenge.

“Pawns then, in a bigger game?” Impossible to tell if her voice held resentment or resignation, it was so quiet.

“Aren’t we all?”

“Perhaps. All right, then, Terioc of Draivalon, I’ll trust your word- for now. And you’d best hope by the Queens and Ytris that you don’t play us false.” Malise gave him a flinty stare before offering a shake on their truce. Everything, she thought queasily, was now hanging on the delicate thread of nagging insistence in her gut that he could be trusted.

“By my gods and yours, Miss Izel. By my gods and yours.” He shook her hand before rising and offering his assistance. “I need you to play prisoner for her creatures, at least until I can get rid of them somehow.”

Lise took his hand and pulled herself up on her own power, only using him as an anchor. She brushed the dust off. “How indignant do you need me to be? I mean, I can raise all the hells from here to Dovleigh, if necessary.” Her eyes glittered with a suppressed amusement.

“I imagine an indignant silent rage will suffice.” The corners of his lips seemed to try to move upward, but didn’t entirely make it there. Still, it was clear he appreciated the humor with which she had decided to take the situation. “Your companion is already at my camp. We’ll break in the morning and make like we’re heading back to Sael Alari. If we’re lucky, a letter will have already been delivered to Nighthaven and a patrol of your queen’s men will conveniently dispose of Cadan’s creatures.”

“You keep calling them that. Why?” She allowed him to bind her wrists loosely- the knots looked far tighter than they actually were. He paused briefly before continuing with his work.

“She is the head of a particularly noxious cult. They worship elder things, primeval spirits that deal in blood sacrifices and worse. The thugs you saw earlier are no longer the people they once were- their souls were traded away to be hosts for lesser spirits. They’re not particularly bright, but it’s better not to rouse their suspicions if we can help it.”

She nodded her understanding and took a deep breath. Slender shoulders rolled and then straightened. With features composed of all the icy hauteur of a queen, Malise looked at him. “Lead on, General. It’s best not to get caught out this far after dark without supplies.”

“Noted, Miss Izel. I appreciate your cooperation.” With a light touch on her back, he nudged her westward toward camp. Her spine immediately stiffened, adding more honesty to her feigned outrage. “We’ve less than a mile to cover, fortunately. You happened to hare off in the most convenient direction.”

“Lovely. Entirely inept at escaping AND incredibly apt at finding my way into the wrong hands. I am an excellent servant of the crown.” Her voice dripped with wry contemplation as they trudged through thickening woods. Once or twice, she nearly lost her balance as her foot tangled among gnarled roots. Silence ruled their trip as the sun started to sink and the shadows grew deeper. Camp was less than a mile, but it was rough terrain it still took them some time. Silence ruled, since they’d already said anything they could safely say before. Malise was now determined to unravel the new mystery that fate had set in her path.

Three tents sat neatly in a clearing with a fire burning in a well-dug pit, keeping it inconspicuous even in the growing darkness. Six figures were tearing silently into roasted rabbits. No banter, no friendly chatter, just single-minded devouring of the food. There was no chattering from the underbrush around that one might expect. Quiet was only interrupted by crackling fire, the tearing of flesh, and the popping of small bones in the rabbit joints as they were torn apart. Cold settled in the pit of her stomach, and Lise fought the urge to flee in blind animal panic or vomit where she stood. One of the figures looked up at her and then back at Terioc.

“It’s good to see you remember how to manage some things yourself, Altaica.” He nearly sneered the words and she shuddered as she watched fat trickle down his chin, glistening in the combination of fading sun and firelight. For all intents and purposes, he looked average enough, until she got to his eyes. They were both dead and malicious, utterly alien. Without realizing it, she began to step backwards. The only thing that stopped her was coming up hard and abruptly against a solid chest.

“Clearly managed better than any of you, since I managed to bring them both in.” Icicles practically formed serrated teeth on the words. “Bring food in ten minutes, or I’m going to send you back from the infernal pit you came from for good.”

The....man-thing curled his lip at Terioc, but seemed unable to do more than that and consent. “Ten minutes. Food.” It was like something had pulled at an invisible collar.

Her elbow was suddenly held in a firm grasp, turning her away from the figures at the fire and guiding her toward the largest of the three tents. Lise was acutely conscious of the general keeping his body between hers and the fire pit. When they reached the tent flaps, he opened one and gently shoved her inwards before following and sealing the flap.

“Lise!” The exclamation drew her gaze to a corner of the massive space with two small cots and lit by a lantern that emitted a pale bluish-white glow. Cor had a solid bruise on one cheek and a few scratches. “Lise, are you all right? I was hoping you’d make it back to Nighthaven. Look, whatever he tells you-”

Lise wandered over and flopped unceremoniously on the free cot, wiggling her hands free with ease before leaning over to poke at his cheek and make sure he hadn’t broken his idiot jaw. “You’re going to want witches’ deceiver for that in a couple days. Yes, I’m fine. See? No harm.” She glanced at Terioc, who was busy on the opposite side with a table. Softly, she murmured in Marinnan. “Don’t ask my why, but I think we can trust him. Did you see those things out there?”

“The guards? They’re just thugs, Lise.” He murmured back.

She shook her head. “No, have you actually looked at their eyes? They’re not right, Cor. And the general told me as much when he caught me. He hates them to his toes- I saw it right before we came in. Look, we don’t have much choice right now but to play nice anyway.”

“I’m glad you didn’t get hurt, but...”

She held up a hand to him. “I know you don’t understand, but my gut instinct is telling me we can trust him. So just trust me, all right?” He looked confused but nodded, studying her quietly. Lise switched back to Trade. “Skies and stars, Cor. Did you have to try to go down swinging instead of opening your ears?”

Cor looked away and mumbled something about roots, earning a shockingly rich laugh from their captor-savior. “I’m certain you would have done exactly that, had the roots not so rudely interrupted, Master Orrian.”

Malise sighed and covered her face with her palm. “We are clearly the least capable of Aven’s servants.” One dark eye stayed fixed on the tent flap warily.

“We’ll be headed back to Sael Alari in the morning.” The general seemed to be on the same page as she was, pitching his voice loud enough for any eavesdroppers.

“Like hells we will! Tell him, Cor. We’re not going anywhere. I’m sure the woods will be crawling with guards soon.” She couldn’t be entirely sure, but there seemed to be a trace of amused approval in Terioc’s expression. She banged loudly on the metal cot legs with her boots for effect.

Corrian was still weighing whether or not to play into this madness when her fist landed on his shoulder. Pain blossomed outward and he yelped, being drawn into the madness despite his reservations. “Hit me again, I don’t have a thing to say to you.”

More clattering of her boots. “Her Majesty is going to tear you apart when she gets us back.”

To his credit, Terioc’s response was perfectly timed. Turned away from them, he loosed the whip at his belt and gave it a sharp flick of his wrist. Thunderous in proximity, Lise found herself covering her ears and cowering from the crack. “Enough from both of you! You’ll be in Sael Alari before your queen knows you’re gone, and no trace will be left. Sleep or not-if you fall during the march tomorrow, I’ll simply have my men drag you.”

Even the unnatural silence from outside the tent seemed to ease a bit at that. Perhaps whoever…or whatever had been lurking behind the eyes of the soldiers had heard what it had been waiting to hear. Two intense pairs of deep brown eyes rested heavily on the general’s shoulders as he re-coiled the whip and tucked it away on his belt again. Turning back to face the pair, he bowed slightly from the waist, smiling at Lise in dry humor. “And so an accord has been struck against a common enemy. Get what rest you can, you’ll need the energy.”

The soft words had hardly had time to dissipate into the air before he disappeared through the tent flap, immediately barking orders in his native tongue. Lise took a deep breath and flopped over on the cot. “I hope your instinct is right about this, Lise, because if it isn’t…”

“Shut up and go to sleep, Cor.” Her own doubts tried to chew away on her ability to sleep, but she pushed them away, softly reciting the names of stars and constellations to ease her to sleep.

Overwhelming stench brought her to before the rough hands could. “Girlie get up, time go, now. Yes.” The shell-thing, Malise couldn’t call it a person, pushed at her shoulder again. Fighting back a scream at being touched by something so clearly unnatural, she practically threw herself off the other side of the cot, falling flat on her face. Panicked, she pushed herself up before it could touch her again. 

“Yes. I’m up.” She looked around for Cor through a mess of curls. She could find no trace of him or the general inside, the only logical answer was that they were already outside. Twisting away from what she could only interpret as a ‘guiding’ touch, she stumbled out into the glaring early morning sun. Heavy cuffs clicked around her wrists as soon as she did.

 “Up too late trying to stargaze through the tent, Miss Izel?” Terioc earned himself a baleful glare from beneath the inky untamed curtain of hair. Tempting though it was to lean in and tell her it would be over in seven miles, he knew this was just the start and that she would have to be ready for a much longer, much more treacherous road before Cadan was a threat no longer. Instead, he merely nodded imperceptibly at her stony demeanor. The other end of the chain was secured to the back of his saddle. Cor was on the other side. Sensible, she supposed, if one was concerned about one’s charges plotting against them during a forced march. Cold sweat trickled down her neck as Terioc swung up over his mount and the entire procession set off without a word. It left her open to the pounding of her own heart in her chest, blood rushing through her ears. Everything rode on the trust she had placed in the man on the mount in front of her.

Cor tossed her a look over the animal’s haunches and she merely shrugged, reading his doubt as clearly as she could read the animal signs on the path they followed. Nothing moved or chirped as they proceeded, not even the smallest insect. Silence was actually reassuring, indicating that Malise was not the only one who was put on edge by the unnatural aura of their company. Midday meal was spent on their feet, awkwardly gnawing at hunks of slightly stale journey cakes with a filling she preferred not to consider the origin of. Her trust was beginning to run thin when she noticed the forest seemed to have come to life again- faint bird calls and occasional rustling. Agonizing seconds passed as she fought the adrenaline rush, deciding how best to play her part. 

A glimmer in the shadows caught her eye before a searing burst of lavender and green light brought the husk nearest to her down. Arrows rained down into the confused Draivites before they started to charge into the woods at inhuman speed. The chain ends from the saddle hit the ground with heavy thuds so that Terioc would have room to maneuver his mount, playing his part in the charade. As soon as the horse was out of the way, Malise threw herself at Cor’s midsection, knocking him prone. 

“Less chance we’ll get hit in the crossfire.” Another sizzling flash of light smashed into the forest floor feet from them, emphasizing the point. “Come on.” The chain and cuffs complicated their lives a bit for a few moments, but Cor and Lise managed to start making a crawling line for the cover of the trees and their countrymen.

 From behind her came a feral-sounding growl and she hit the ground face first as her hands disappeared from beneath her shoulders and relocated to somewhere around her navel as the chain was given a vicious yank. Panicked vomit started to rise in the back of her throat, and Lise forced herself to think and breathe rather than simply lash out in reaction. She started to pull her legs in toward her chest. The movement was awkward, pushing her face further into the loamy forest floor. She felt a bit ridiculous with her backside hiked up the way it was, but it gave the impression she was either going to use her legs for a quick push forward or was curling up to surrender. Both impressions suited her purpose admirably well. One breath, two, a third- Malise counted each slowly, waiting for her attacker to pull closer. Her patience paid off as a grimy hand landed on her shoulder. Another breath, letting the husk bend closer. Just before he had the leverage to pull her upwards, she kicked her legs back and up with a shout of effort. He didn’t cry out, but did grunt and fall back in surprise as her boots landed in his lower abdomen. Hastily, Lise rolled herself onto her back and started pulling in as much of her lead chain as she could. A plan was forming, albeit amorphous. 

She was no astromancer, but she had her own bag of tricks. As it approached again, she concentrated on exactly what it was she wanted and then pushed the chain upward at her assailant with both hands, shouting the illusion spell. 

“Tiri cathir!” The metal blurred and became a shining cord, looking much like the swirling bolts leaving smoldering pits around them. She felt the solid thud of connection with her target through her cuffs. Her satisfaction faded to abject horror as the husk started to scream, writhing where he stood. Bits of skin began to slough off. It finally stopped when a blade cleanly separated its head from its shoulders. Lise didn’t register the appearance of Terioc side-stepping the body as it fell, or that he released her from her cuffs. All she could do was stare at the head. She scrambled to her knees and managed a few feet before everything- or what felt like everything, at least- she’d eaten in two days made a reappearance on the side of the trail. 

The general merely offered his water skin for her to clean her mouth out when she was done. “That’s the last of them. Come now, we should meet with whomever your queen has sent.” He offered her a hand up. Lise declined and pushed herself up on her own power, nodding to him mutely. Terioc studied her intently for a moment and then nodded. She couldn’t tell if it was in approval or just acknowledging her choice, and frankly, she didn’t much care at the moment. She doubted she would sleep for months, the images permanently imprinted on the inside of her eyelids. 

Crossing her arms over her chest, she started picking her way across the pock-marked ground toward the milling soldiers. Cor had already been seen to, and he was sitting on a small horse-drawn cart that had clearly been hidden somewhere nearby. Lise almost broke into tears to see Seirye standing next to him, and she tore off, slamming into the astromancer with an enormous hug.

 “Oh, skies and stars, it’s so good to see a recognizable face!” The astromancer returned the hug gently, smoothing down Lise’s hair soothingly. 

“Aven wanted to make sure this all went according to plan. Who else would she send?” Malise found herself being gently guided to sit next to Cor. “Here, have some water. Rest.” 

“She’s had rather a shock, I think.” Terioc presented himself before Seirye, bowing. “Terioc Amaurri, at your service, my lady.” Seirye pursed her lips, studying the Draivite general. He was impressively tall, with close-cropped golden hair. A series of small scars marked the right side of his face, the last of them seeming to have pulled his upper lip into a slight but permanent expression of faint amusement. His eyes were a surprisingly vibrant teal, rather than the icy blue she’d somehow expected. 

“General.” She dipped her head in acknowledgment. “Her Majesty is awaiting us at Nighthaven, finding that a trip to Dovleigh proper might be…unwise.” Seirye gestured to the cart, where his horse had already been tied to the side. “Make yourself comfortable, please. “ His grimace amused her, but he stepped into the cart with Cor and Lise without complaint. Lise shifted to the front corner, seemingly relieved to have something firmly against her back. Seirye gestured to the rest of the guard, and they took up their places on either side of the cart as she mounted her own silvery mare. With a lurch, the cart started to rumble forward. Cor kept to himself, choosing to sleep as he could. 

“I thought you weren’t an astromancer.” The statement broke into Lise’s reverie- perhaps not the most welcome of distractions, but anything was better than watching the gruesome scene play out in her head again. 

“I’m not. I know a bit of hedgewitchery- a useful cantrip or two, some illusions to amuse people. I don’t…” She pursed her lips and frowned, leaving small creases between her brows. “I don’t know any spells to cause harm. It was just an illusion, to scare it off. Or it was supposed to be.” She tugged on a curl in agitation.

 “I see. Well, at least you know you can handle her creatures if you need to.” He smiled faintly. “I can’t promise you’ll get used to it, but I can promise you the sharper edges will wear off once you’re home.” Liquid brown eyes peered at him from over her knees, which she’d pulled up protectively, wrapping her arms around them. 

“I think I’ll just leave them to you from now on, General, if it’s alright.” With that, Malise fell into silence, thoughts turned inward, even though her face was turned upward toward the sky.   

Next Chapter: Success...Mostly