One of the first magical crafts I learned was artificing from the first mage I ever met, Glenda.

When I left my Eagle Clan family, I joined a troupe of traveling entertainers and Glenda was one of them. She almost fainted when she saw me bursting with numin and untrained.

It was she who taught me how to make beautiful jewelry, then layer spellwork into the metal and stone.

From the personal journal of Ozora

Dean of Magics

The Bestiary

I came to, and everything was dark.

I couldn’t see, and my breath rasped through my nose. My mouth had dried out, stuck to the rag jammed between my lips.

Rank, oniony body odor filled my nostrils. I clenched my teeth into the rag to hold back from gagging.

The man who’d knocked me out carried me.

I was bound, blindfolded, and gagged.

Shit.

If I couldn’t see or speak, I couldn’t cast. There were some amulets in my belt pouch that activated by touch, but he’d stripped it off me. I wondered how long I’d been out.

Long enough for him to incapacitate me.

Not good.

I made myself stay limp, did not want to let him know I was awake. His steps shuffled along a wooden floor.

We were inside.

From the way the air had changed and his echoing steps, I guessed he’d brought me into the house. I hoped it was the house Cleobah flew us to. If I’d been out long enough for them to take me somewhere else, I doubted I’d be able to break free.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Breathe. Think.

I’m still alive. If I want to stay that way, I have to stay calm.

Where was Cleobah? Had they taken her out too?

The echo changed when he stepped into a room from the hallway he’d carried me down. I had a hard time not reacting when Fraser roared.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” It sounded like he tore the words from his throat. “I will kill you seven times over for this.” Despite our dire situation, I did not envy them. Death laced Fraser’s words.

“Heh, sure pal.” The man’s voice vibrated through my chest. He sounded bored. Dropping me onto a hard bench, he gave a rough shove to prop me against the wall.

“That would be a neat trick.” Gordon’s voice dripped light amusement, then turned intent. “Nice catch, Carl. Do you have a numin-blocker on her?”

“Don’t worry, she won’t be waking up for hours.”

“Shit. Why didn’t you put a numin-blocker on her?” He snapped.

“Because you didn’t tell me to prepare for the mage.” Carl answered, just as sharp. “You’re lucky I had a knockout spell, and I got the drop on her. Not to mention, you didn’t give me enough money for a numin blocker. Mages get pretty upset when you ask them to make one. They ask for lots and lots of gold." My captor’s garlicky breath washed over me as he answered the other male’s sharp question. He sounded annoyed, his voice tight and overly patient, like a frazzled parent explaining something to a toddler. Nausea washed over me and I struggled to remain calm. My regular breathing techniques no longer helped.

Carl’s sweaty fingers lifted my bound wrists, then dropped my hands on my chest before sliding down my legs to bind my feet. “Look. She’s tied. She can’t speak, can’t cast, can’t move. Satisfied?”

The coarse rope scratched against my skin. I tensed, trying not to squirm and get some relief.

Gordon grunted.

Carl’s hands slapped the wall, and he groaned as he levered himself upright and took a few steps. The bench rocked under me as he settled onto it above my head.

I had a bad feeling about this. I couldn’t even wiggle my fingers. Carl was right. I’d never be able to scribe a glyph or sigil. I couldn’t whisper a cantrip. Couldn’t see.

I’d seen enough through the spy-eye, though.

Seeing Gordon stunned me, especially when some rumors had him dead. I never thought I’d see him again.

I had so many questions.

I’d feared for him when I fled Hastrior, been relieved when I heard he’d stayed to run the city. Without his efforts, we never would’ve stopped Fraser’s supposed trade in hippocampus mares. I’d been so sure we protected the wild pods, and so proud of what we’d done.

Yeah. I was. Until I had my eyes pried open. It hurt to realize how naïve I’d been back then. Sleepless nights became the norm this past week, and twisting with guilt over my actions.

I’d been wrong. Completely.

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There was no way Fraser trafficked in hippocamps. I’d seen the bond he had with Bastion. Nothing sustained that sort of soul entwinement except love.

Which meant I’d broken off our relationship in the worst possible manner, for all the wrong reasons.

Yeah, the guilt hit hard. Now here we both were. Trapped by the man who fed me lies. All while pretending to be so caring and empathetic.

Why did I believe him? Not the first time I wrestled with that question. These last couple of weeks I’d struggled plenty. It was so easy for me to accept back then because Gordon didn’t tell me Fraser planned to capture and sell hippocamps to the highest bidder. He showed me. When he first approached me, he didn’t have all the pieces, didn’t know it was Fraser.

We found out together.

Gordon seemed just as shocked as I when he took me to see the newly built pens in Skirmisher’s holds. The harness nets so new, they hadn’t even been used.

Or so I thought.

Gordon had vowed if I took out the Skirmisher, that he would ensure Fraser never sailed again. I set my fireball spells before I left the holds. I always thought Gordon upheld his word. Heard nothing but vague rumors of Fraser from then till now.

Gordon had been Fraser’s right-hand man, but that last night he swore he’d make things right. How many other vows had Gordon broken?

His voice matched boot heels that paced the wood floor near me. I forced myself to breathe. Slow, in and out through my nostrils. My racing heart made it difficult. Surely he and Carl heard how it thundered?

“You better be right about that knockout spell.” Gordon’s voice was low and nearby. Carl replied in just as low a tone. “Question me again, and I’ll slit your throat myself.”

“Try me.” Gordon had a deadly reputation. He wouldn’t have been Fraser’s right-hand man if he wasn’t just as lethal as his captain. His boot heels squeaked and strode away.

Cautiously, I drew enough numin to engage my magesight. Even with my eyes covered, I still sensed the numin fueling the different spells around the room. As Fraser learned, these energies are not visual, even though it’s called magesight. So I still “saw” in a sense, the same way Fraser “saw” the numinous energies in the water while his eyes were closed.

No details, only vague forms, but the energies were distinct. A male shape glowed with a sickly pale fire. Gordon, infused with numin not his own. A sigil, similar to the ones we’d found around the city, hovered over him. Hazy threads of pale numin anchored it to the back of his head.

Now I wanted to throw up.

I sought Fraser by looking for his numin signature, scanning the room. I heard him but didn’t see his numin. A worrisome sign.

I found my belt pouch, glowing on the table I’d seen with the eye-spy spell.

It took two sweeps to find Fraser, his numin so depleted I wondered that he still had the energy to roar and threaten as he did.

“This is quite the delightful surprise, I must say.” Gordon sounded genuinely pleased. “The same people His Grace wished to speak to come seeking me. Appreciate you saving me the effort of prying you away from that dragon up there.” The glow that was Gordon paused near Fraser’s dim light. “How did you get the beast to help you?”

“You’d have to ask her. They dragged me into this against my will.” Fraser’s voice sounded husky from his earlier outburst. Or was he fading?

A dry nereid is a dead nereid. It had to be his human half keeping him alive right now, but how much longer could he take this? Gordon was savage for bringing him out here. Away from the lushness of the coastline, these hills were arid, especially this time of year.

“Who’s so interested in us?” Fraser paused to cough, a dry hacking. “Who’s holding your leash?”

The silence grew tense, but Gordon eventually answered. “You’ll find out soon enough anyway. His Grace, the Duke of Kiocinassa.”

Huh?

“Who’s he? Sounds fancy.” Fraser cleared his throat, sounding more like himself.

“Third cousin to the Emperor and an Adept. Naturally.” Gordon’s voice moved, as if he were pacing and I lost the rest of his words. “… entrusted the Duke with preparing the city for the return of its rightful ruler.”

Oh shit.

A door opened.

“Sir, the men outside, they’ve been knocked out. I can’t get close to them. They’re covered in sleeping powder.” An unfamiliar voice spoke up across the room.

That’s everyone. Carl’s heavy breathing still wheezed above my head. New guy with brisk boot heels crossed the floor. “The horses are fine, but I don’t know when those men will wake with that much on them.”

“I think I saw a breeze cantrip or two in her belt pouch. Might be able to use those to clean off the men.” Carl still sounded bored, like he wanted to do anything else but sit here.

“Then you two go take care of it. Get them loaded onto the wagon after.” Gordon ordered. Two sets of footsteps left, closing the door behind them.

Silence filled the room. It smelled like dust and sorrows in here. I didn’t hear Gordon’s steps until he stood above me, but the high elf’s numin burned in my magesight, filling him and pressing against my shields.

I’d calmed my heart rate, but the pressure of that eerie energy caused it to spike again.

My shields held. Gordon muttered something I didn’t understand. The pressure increased.

“I know you feel me, little human.” He spoke with a voice not his own. This one lyrical, in a way Gordon’s bardic-trained baritone would never match. “Those shields won’t hold for much longer. Not now I have you in my care.”

I did not want to be face-to-face with a high elvish duke. Hearing his voice speak through Gordon made my brain to freeze with fear. Somehow even at a distance, he recognized me from when our energies had touched. Those brief moments when I cast the glamour of his sigil were enough for him to mark me. “I’ve been waiting for you.” He hissed.

“Tell me Gordon.” Fraser’s voice rang out. I sought him again with my magesight. He sounded stronger, but his numin remained just a thin thread. “Did you invite His Grace in or did he arrive bearing gifts?”

The soft chuckle was the scariest thing I’d heard yet from Gordon. Because it wasn’t really Gordon.

“He needs no one’s invitation. He goes where he pleases and takes what he fancies.” Footsteps returned to Fraser’s side. “He’ll drain you both completely. He can’t have any mages here in Hastrior. The Emperor learned his lesson in the Sundering. Force is not the only way to conquer and rule. With the right suggestions, a city will destroy itself.”

“The sigils.” Fraser’s hoarse voice revealed his inner turmoil.

Gordon gave away an important bit of information. The Emperor feared mages.

Cassyrra and Cleobah’s school idea suddenly made a lot more sense.

But the school would never happen if we didn’t get free.

Which didn’t seem likely. We were well and truly stuck.

I went through everything I’d brought with me, searching mentally for something, anything to use to loosen these ropes so I could cast. Just a tiny loosening.

Gordon’s glowing form was across the room. I dared shifting my wrists and stretching my fingers to try to scribe a glyph.

And brushed the talismans Cleobah had pulled from my collection and told me to wear. I gasped. Couldn’t help it.

I’d forgotten about them, and Carl hadn’t found them under my high-necked shirt.

My seeking fingers rested on a rain talisman. I sell them to farmers to ensure their fields get adequate water. It’s bespelled so that anyone with just a bare trace of numin can activate it.

It releases a lot of water.

Perfect.

The silver of the talisman warmed as my numin flowed into the ingot inscribed with runes and embedded with aquamarine chips, triggering the enchantment implanted in the necklace.

That’s all it took.

“No!” Gordon shouted, his boots racing toward me. Too late.

A deluge cascaded down, flooding the room.

Fraser’s numin flared to life as soon as the water touched him. The beating rain restored his energies in moments. I didn’t need eyes to see his beautiful form. Drenched in his element, the magic of his heart and soul blazed to glorious life.

My heart ached with regret. I’d been a blind fool. I hoped he’d forgive me someday.

I didn’t deserve him. He’d been right to hate me.

I’d make it up to him. Somehow.

Even over the drumming of the water beating down, I heard snapping wood as Fraser broke the chair they’d tied him to.

****