Mara looked down at the bowl in her hands. Isbrand had brought her breakfast, a kindness she hadn't expected after Immortalis Aelius's violent lashing out. Then again, the man in black armor was gone, off scouting the way or carrying out some mission of his own. He didn't seem directly in charge of the warg riders, nor beholden to them.

The sergeant stood nearby, brushing his warg. Dagr was a huge beast, easily capable of carrying two people, even with the soldier in heavy armor. She had never seen a creature like it: a wolf–like omnivore with rounded ears and a shorter muzzle, with strange spots on its fur and a whistling call alongside its growls. The beast certainly seemed to prefer meat to all other foods, even if it was carrion. She currently had an elk femur trapped between her paws, crushing it into nothingness in her powerful jaws and swallowing the bone and marrow alike. It was unsettling to listen to with the knowledge of how easily she could suffer a similar fate at the forefront of her mind.

"You should eat." Isbrand didn't even look over, tone rough and harsh.

Mara tasted the porridge. It was richer and fuller than even the food she had grown up on as a daughter of privilege in Sjaligr, stewed grains with meat and strange spices. No wonder they had grown so tall, if they could eat so well. She hadn't seen a sign of famine anywhere about these men, nor any sign that they had found the winter here at all difficult to deal with. "What is in it?"

He carefully brushed burrs out of Dagr's fur, plucking them out once they were free from the snarls in her fur and tossing them away. "Barley, oats, venison, salt, pepper."

Mara furrowed her brow. "Pepper?"

"It is a spice," Isbrand said. He seldom spoke when they were on the road, but camp made him more conversational in his forceful way. Dagr made a low rumbling sound of approval as Isbrand's brush started just behind her ears.

The sorcerer started eating, finding she enjoyed the taste more than she expected. Between mouthfuls, she observed, "You are close to your beast."

There was a hint of a smile on the large man's face, but then it vanished. "She is my everything," Isbrand said seriously. "I hand-raised her from a cub and she has been beside me in every battle since. The trust between warg and rider is like no other bond. When we fight, there is no her or I, only us."

Mara nodded slightly, swallowing a little hard. Immortalis Aelius's threat to harm Dagr seemed much more grave after seeing how connected the two were. "I am sorry I have put you both at risk."

Isbrand exhaled sharply at even the thought, turning to look at her as he scratched behind Dagr's ears. "Perhaps something to remember when you stand before the Legate's judgment."

"Tell me about your Legate. Are they like Immortalis Aelius?"

The soldier shook his head at the comparison. "The Divine Prince crafted Immortalis Aelius to be a weapon against heresy, touched by holiness itself. Imperial Legate Saevia is a legionary, a mortal woman, and all that she is, she has made through the fires of war."

The admiration in his tone was obvious, though the realization finally sinking in that this commander of theirs was a woman,, and due such respect, sent Mara's head spinning for a moment. Even her mother, a capable warrior and powerful mage, would not have been given such deference. Mara quickly finished her bowl, turning that over in her thoughts. She didn't doubt Sammael's assessment of these foreigners and the danger they posed to her, but she also had to prepare for what would happen if Aallotar didn't reach her in time. "You think highly of her, then?"

"There is no commander I would rather serve in any of the four corners of the world," Isbrand said, lifting his chin slightly. "Legate Saevia would not ask even an auxiliary to do something she would not do herself. Her devotion and courage are things of legend, from the days when she was a humble legionary to the height of her power now. Even the gods of the Imperium agree, else the Divine Prince would not have named her Imperial Legate and entrusted her with this campaign."

"And she treats you well?" Mara asked mildly.

"Many find her harsh, but even-handed and just. She demands excellence and will accept no substitute, but that does not mean she is ignorant of effort." Isbrand's chest puffed out with pride. "I was there the day she abandoned the safety offered by the gods of the Imperium and shared our fate, even knowing defeat would have meant crucifixion. She believed we were worthy, and so we have become worthy under her hand."

"Is that why you defied the Immortalis? To honor her command?"

Isbrand stopped scratching Dagr, letting his gaze rest on Mara. "I know in my soul there is more to you than meets the eye, heretic. Not even the wisdom of Haagenti could open that fissure, yet you did. The Legate will have questions. That is why I intervened."

Mara sighed. "Well, I thank you for honoring your word and sparing my companion."

"A man is nothing without his word," Isbrand said, setting aside his brush and picking up the saddle nearby. He had it belted onto Dagr's back in a few moments before checking her paws carefully. "We ride as soon as Immortalis Aelius returns. Soon we will enter Imperial territory."

It was her turn to frown as she rinsed the empty bowl and then tucked it into the small satchel she had brought with her. "We are still weeks from Sandgata and well within the Red Mountains. What do you mean? Valkaldr—"

He chuckled, but the humor in it sent a prickle of fear down her spine. "You must have come from the north, heretic. Valkaldr, Sandgata, Thornholm, Steinngardr, and Eskaldr have all submitted themselves to Imperial rule."

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

Mara stared at him like he'd grown a second head. The words themselves made sense, but the concept was mind-boggling. "Five of the richest, most powerful lords of the Red Mountains have bent knee to invaders within ‌a single year?" The southern cities were not as plagued by the horrible winters and storms rolling in off the great northern seas: they were more populous, more powerful, and boasted far more warriors than the north could field. "How is that possible?"

For a moment, she thought she saw a hint of pity in Isbrand's eyes. "It was difficult for my people to fathom, once. We had thought in our primitive arrogance that we were the greatest warriors the world had seen, for we conquered and subjugated many others before the Imperium arrived. It was then we learned we did not even know the meaning of the word 'war'."

"I knew men who destroyed an army of black shields."

Isbrand smiled faintly, humorlessly. "Does it slay a dragon, to sever the tip of its tail?"

Mara knew she had heard something similar before and wracked her shattered mind for answers, digging for her memories of Kalevi and his vision. Instead, what surfaced was a different, older horror: Gaius and her father speaking in the square, moments before she'd seen a man die at the hands of magic for the first time.

I know little of magic, but you know nothing of the dragon you have nicked in its tail. When it rounds on you, it will devastate your world.

Then Kalevi's prophecy hit her, echoing with the gnawing certainty of Void. In their wake, nothing will remain except fire, death, and salt.

Before she could ask Isbrand anything further, he stepped up into his saddle and then leaned down, catching her by her good arm and swinging her up behind him. Before she could even consider wriggling away, Isbrand lashed her into the saddle. It was much easier to fall from a warg's back than a horse's, especially since the leather seat was sculpted for one rider, not two.

The warriors all around them were breaking camp with a speed and efficiency Mara had never before seen. There was something so mechanical to it all, each person perfectly aware of their assigned duties and so practiced in them that it seemed automatic. "Is it time to depart?"

Isbrand pointed in answer. A thin, almost cadaverous man had emerged from the wood line, unarmed and unarmored with a horse's reins in hand. The beast seemed nervous. "Haagenti has returned."

"He is your scholar?" Mara guessed.

The warg rider shook his head and urged Dagr over towards the man mounting his horse. "Ave, celestial one," he said, bowing his head deeply. "We have one you would like to converse with among our number now."

Haagenti's features seemed to melt slightly, turning silver and into a barely contoured face, human in approximation. A demon, Mara recognized with a mixture of nerves and fascination. His deception was far more perfect than Sammael's disguise. His hands showed no sign of claws or any of the dangerous elements, but that meant he had sorcery at his fingertips. Mara knew she would have to go carefully.

"IMMORTALIS AELIUS INFORMED ME." The voice was smooth and metallic, cold and emotionless. "TELL ME, MAGE, HOW DID YOU ENTER THE RUINS?"

Mara felt entirely unprepared for even the slightest interrogation. The presence in her shattered memories had retreated since they left the ruins, even though she still felt it like a shadow in her soul. Sometimes visions or flashes of memory crossed her perception, but even those had quieted in the presence of the Imperials. "My master is a student of history," she said, trying to keep herself as close to the truth without telling too much. "He knew of an incantation to open the door."

Haagenti cocked his head slightly to one side. "A DOOR SEALED BY SORCERY?"

"Anything bound in Void can be undone with Creation," Mara said, inverting the lesson she'd learned from Sammael to suit what they expected to hear.

"PERHAPS." Haagenti's blank stare pierced into her like a dagger. "THE PRACTICE OF HERESY IS FORBIDDEN BY THE LAWS OF THE IMPERIUM. YOU WOULD DO WELL TO REMEMBER THAT AS YOU SET FOOT UPON OUR SOIL."

"That soil belongs to the people of the Red Mountains," Mara said, trying not to flinch away from his gaze.

"ONCE," Haagenti said with demonic bluntness. "THEIR CRIMINAL MISUSE OF IT FORCED IMPERIAL INTERVENTION. NOW, BY DIVINE RIGHT AND CONQUEST, IT IS SUBJECT TO THE GLORIOUS RULE OF THE PRINCES OF IRON." The creature cocked his head. "SERGEANT ISBRAND, ARE YOUR MEN READY TO MOVE?"

"We are, heavenly one. Will Immortalis Aelius be joining us?"

"HE WILL MEET US IN SANDGATA. THERE ARE RUMORS OF AN APOSTATE IN THE AREA, AND INVESTIGATION OF THIS TAKES PRIORITY."

Mara saw relief spread through Isbrand through the subtle relaxation of his shoulders, even in his armor. "What's an apostate?" she whispered as Haagenti moved towards the head of the column of warg riders on his horse.

"A fallen angel," Isbrand answered. "One who betrayed the Princes of Iron."

Sammael. Mara tried not to panic. If anyone could handle Aelius, surely it was an elder fiend. She closed her eyes and took a small breath. Between Aallotar's absence and the threat of discovery for her master, she felt dangerously exposed. Horrified thoughts kept creeping in as the ride towards the southeast began, however. Worst of all was the idea of Aallotar alone. What if Aelius had gone back to kill her? What if she was roaming in beast form, locked again in the prison of her curse without any hint of their trail?

Mara hadn't been able to leave a blood trail like she planned for Aallotar to follow, not when the soldiers had stripped her of anything vaguely sharp almost immediately. She had to hope that the wargs didn't cover her scent too much. Every mile that passed, her hopes faded more into anxiety, however.

Aallotar still hadn't come for her.

Something shifted in Mara's shattered mind at that thought, a burning resolve to author a way out of her situation so she could go seeking her love. The idea of Aallotar tormented and hurting was like a knife in her chest. She risked a glance back behind her to see only empty woods. She wouldn't abandon you, Mara told herself resolutely. Nor can you leave her. You have to survive and return to her.

Death was not an option, no matter how certain it seemed in her future.

Too much awaits you, Mara Spell-Breaker, Void whispered under her skin, sending a crawling sensation down her spine. You have a purpose. Do not forget that.