Renegade's Magic

My heart was thundering in my chest when Spink drew in the horse by the sentry box. The sentry saluted him smartly and Spink returned it. I looked away from him. The memory of my knife across another sentry’s throat, the soft tugging as the sharp blade cut through arteries and flesh, the warm spill of blood across my fingers; I could almost smell the blood running. I felt queasy. The sentry scarcely gave me a glance. He saluted Spink and nodded courteously at Epiny. Spink stirred the reins and suddenly we were inside.



Here the damage was far worse than in the town outside the walls. Soldier’s Boy had been far more thorough than Dasie. Almost every building showed some sign of damage, but they showed it in the form of new or mismatched lumber against the old. A number of damaged buildings had been torn down and the salvaged lumber used to repair those that still stood. There were empty lots, carefully raked and tidied of debris. We went past the corner where the storage barn and stables had been. Hammers were ringing and saws growling as a crew of a dozen soldiers put up the framework of the new structures. The smell of fresh-cut wood was sharp in the air. Had Amzil’s fate not been weighing on my heart, it would have been a cheering sight to see so many men busily engaged in the construction.



But at the next turn, I caught sight of the building where I’d been a prisoner. Its stone foundation remained, but one end of the upper structure consisted only of scorched uprights and a few charred rafters. As we passed it, I caught a glimpse down the alley where I had escaped that night. Rubble still cluttered the ground where I’d broken out. A tree had sprouted in the mound of earth and broken stone and mortar. The building looked deserted. So Amzil was not being held there. Where was she?



I started to ask Spink when a shadow swept over all of us. I ducked like a small prey animal and then looked up in deepening dismay. A croaker bird made a lazy circle over the fort and then glided in to alight on the top rafter of the building. He landed awkwardly, teetered for an instant, and then got his balance. He settled his feathers around him and then, looking down, stretched out his neck toward me and gave three hoarse caws.



“You’ve taken my death from me. What more do you want of me, old god?” I asked in a small, shaking voice.



“It’s only a bird, Nevare,” Epiny said reassuringly, but the tremor in her voice was not a comfort to me.



“I wish I could go back to a life where a bird was just a bird, always,” Spink observed quietly. The baby began to cry and Epiny took the basket onto her lap and held it close.



“Oh, worst luck,” Spink said quietly.



I turned my head, baffled as to what he meant. Coming from a side street was a cavalla scout mounted on the finest horse I’d seen since I reached Gettys. It was a bay with a glossy black mane and tail and white stockings on its ramrod legs. I stared at the animal in admiration, feeling a pang for the loss of not only Sirlofty but even stolid Clove. When I glanced up at the rider, our eyes met. Scout Tiber stared at me for a moment; then his lips parted in a spare smile.



“Burvelle!” he called out in a friendly way. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” As he spoke, the bird on the rafter cawed again, a mocking shadow of his words.



I lifted my hand in faint greeting. Tiber had a moustache now. Like every scout I’d ever known, he was both in and out of uniform. He wore his hat at a rakish angle and his jacket was open at the throat, showing a bright yellow scarf. A silver earring dangled from one ear. He was fit and clear of eye and I suddenly knew that being a scout did not much disagree with him. I could have been glad for him, if only he hadn’t recognized me.



“The only man in town who’d recognize you on sight,” Spink whispered with a groan.



“You know him?” Epiny demanded.



“Only from the Academy. I never spoke to him here,” I said as quietly.



Tiber had stirred his mount to a trot and brought him alongside our rattling cart. “Good afternoon, Lieutenant Kester. Ma’am.” He greeted them both respectfully. When he doffed his hat to Epiny, I saw that his hair was nearly as long as mine. My tongue clove to the top of my dry mouth.



“Lieutenant Tiber. Lovely day.” Spink’s response was noncommittal.



“Isn’t it?” Tiber swung his glance to me. He smiled. “So, Cadet Burvelle, you’ve come east to see Gettys, have you? Only, surely it’s not ‘cadet’ anymore?”



I found my tongue. “No, sir. I’m afraid not.”



Epiny suddenly spoke for both of us. “My cousin unfortunately had to leave the Academy. For health reasons, after the plague outbreak. He’s come to stay with us for a time, to see if we can’t mend his constitution enough to allow him to enlist.”