Rise of the Mages (Rise of the Mages 2) (40 page)

Xan woke to a quiet argument outside his pitch-black cell.

Tasia’s voice. Kind but insistent.

Xan’s heart pounded against his chest with blows stronger than Brant’s fists. He stood and ignited his lamp.

Keys turned in locks. The cross beam slid out. The door swung into the hall and bounced with a metallic thud. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.

Tasia’s diminutive frame filled the opening. Xan topped her by a good foot, but she loomed over him.

Her pale pink dress contrasted the difference between her and Ashley. Whereas Ashley emphasized her curves, Tasia preserved her modesty. Whereas Ashley considered only herself, Tasia cared about everyone. Whereas hate and anger filled Ashley, love and kindness filled Tasia.

Usually anyway. Her eyes drove daggers through him. Why was she angry?

Xan sank onto the bed, his body rigid. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

His mouth opened. Words tumbled out. “Because you look mad?”

If anything, her expression darkened.

She held a crumpled sheet of paper toward him. “Did you mean this?”

He nodded.

“I cannot believe that you … I have never been so …” She clenched and unclenched her fists several times before letting out a deep breath. “I know you’re hurt. The girl you love rejected you. The duke arrested you for doing what you truly believed to be the right thing. You’re in pain, and you’re lonely.”

Xan relaxed. She understood. He’d known she’d understand.

“Listen to me,” she said. “Being in pain does not justify inflicting pain on others.”

Then what did? “You really think Ashley will give a flip? Even if she does, look at how she treated me. She deserves whatever hurt she gets.”

Tasia turned her back to him. “I wasn’t talking about her.”

Huh? “Tasia?”

He couldn’t see what she was doing. After a bit of rustling, she let her clenched hand hang at her side. She opened it.

Something dropped. Gold. A glittering diamond. The engagement ring fell to the floor with a tiny clink. She couldn’t even muster enough energy to throw it at him, to be angry at him. He’d hurt her that much. As much as Ashley had hurt him.

“Tasia, please …” What was he going to say? He had no right to ask anything of her, and no apology could possibly be adequate.

She walked out without another word—without even glancing at him—and the heavy door closed behind her. The crumpled proposal lay on the floor. He stared at it for a second before igniting it. The blaze left scorch marks on the ceiling, and acrid smoke tickled his nostrils.

He hadn’t intended to hurt her—wasn’t even quite sure how he’d hurt her. Of all the people he knew, she least deserved pain of any kind.

Maybe the cell was the best place for him. If he didn’t interact with anyone again ever, he’d stop inflicting harm. He snatched the cursed ring from the floor, intending to throw it out the arrow slit. But he couldn’t. Someone else might find it, and he wouldn’t wish the misery it had brought him on anyone.

Xan sank onto the mat. In a lifetime filled with solitude, he’d never felt so alone. It was a relief when, not an hour later, dawn’s light filtered into the room. At least people would move around outside. Maybe he could find something to occupy his attention.

Not a minute later, magic use burst to the west, and a loud crash reverberated.

Xan rushed to the arrow slit. Another crash, though not quite as loud, and no accompanying magic. The castle shook.

He detected a mass of heat in the woods to the west. Truna’s army had shifted position from the north under the cover of night. And only a smattering of the duke’s soldiers defended the wall.

Another magic burst, and a stone darted in almost a straight line from the third in a line of four trebuchets. It smashed into the wall with incredible force. The fourth trebuchet wound. The counterweight released, and a stone launched. It arched and fell short of hitting anything. No magic.

More bursts of magic. Defending soldiers fell. The kineticists would breach the wall, and there’d be nobody to stop Truna from swarming the city. Not good.

Then again, what did he care? He didn’t owe Asher anything, and the chaos would give him the opportunity to escape. His friends—if he could still call them that—could fend for themselves.

Idly, Xan looked for the enemy mages. The first trebuchet released accompanied by a burst. Another dart. It slammed into the wall. Soldiers on top lost their balance. The second trebuchet’s stone arched.

Xan finally spotted six figures standing near the siege engines. Black lines stretched from four of them. The third trebuchet launched. A yellow line shot from one of the mages to the stone. It slammed into the wall.

Near the impact site, a figure dressed in pale pink walked the platform, her head barely reaching the top of the parapet.

“No. It can’t be.”

It was way too dangerous for Tasia to be up there. She bent over a man, obviously attending some injury.

The fourth trebuchet launched. The stone arched.

Right at her.

“No!”

Xan reached his arm through the slit, desperately grasping for some way to stop what was about to happen. “Tasia!”

The stone reached its apex.

Freezing it would accomplish nothing. Xan couldn’t transfer enough heat to make it melt. There was no time to blast it to pieces.

Men around Tasia shouted, but she didn’t look up from her work. Even if she saw, the stone would be there too fast for her to move. She wouldn’t survive impact.

The stone continued its inexorable fall, and Xan could do nothing. “No!”

The stone was mere feet from her. In a fraction of a second, he’d watch her die. All Xan wanted was for the stone to stop. Futile. Idiotic. Made no sense. But he reached for magic.

Power flowed through him. The rock’s momentum halted. It hung in the air for an instant as if undecided as to what it should do next.

Points of light invaded the edges of Xan’s vision. His head swam. The stone dropped straight down and fell from sight on the other side of the wall.

Xan closed his eyes against dizziness and sank to the floor. A good five to ten minutes passed before his lightheadedness eased enough for him to think straight. He pulled himself back up to the arrow slit. Maybe stopping a huge rock in midair wasn’t advisable.

Tasia, unharmed, tended a soldier. Xan let out a long, slow breath. She was safe.

But how? It made no sense. He couldn’t have stopped the rock. But he’d felt the power. But an alchemist didn’t control kinetic energy.

Xan slapped his forehead. “Such an unbelievable idiot! Thermal energy has nothing to do with chemical energy. Justav and Lucan blocked my ability with fire, but I could still control heat.” How could he have missed it?

More importantly—if he could control chemical reactions and thermal differences and kinetics, what else could he do? Was it possible all ten types of magic were his to command? The only thing to do was to conduct a test.

“Be careful,” he murmured. The enemy mages knew his general direction from the huge kinetic burst. Any other detectable use would tell them exactly where he was.

Xan grinned. They couldn’t sense magic he performed on himself. He willed himself to become lighter and jumped. His head nearly hit the ceiling. Neat.

Keeping himself light, he ignited a tiny flame in the lamp on the desk while sending the quill floating across the room. “I can do anything! Everything!”

A loud thud sounded, and the castle shook again. Xan rushed back to the arrow slit. Another stone hit. A ten-foot section of wall crumbled. Rock and mortar and wood and men collapsed into a pile of debris. Cracks extended all the way to where Tasia stood.

“Run,” Xan said.

Surely, she’d run. The men around her did, but she didn’t seem to notice as she bent over her patient.

More than a thousand troops sprung from the woods and massed into a sea of burgundy ready to charge. All that stood between them and the city was a moat.

Another stone hit. The wall under Tasia shook, but she didn’t move.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The only way to save her was to take out the trebuchets, but to do that, he first had to take out the mages.

The mass of burgundy rushed toward the broken wall.

Six enemy mages. Ten powers at his command. Easy right?

Acting more from instinct than thought, he slammed blocks into the enemy mages. The death flows stopped. Spots swam in front of his eyes as his enemy battered against his shields. If he passed out, he was dead.

He concentrated a quick burst on the first mage. The figure’s clothes burst into flame. Xan paused. What a horrible way to die. He couldn’t imagine what the man’s screams must sound like. But what else could he do?

He lit the next four men one at a time to minimize effort, but his head still swam. The last mage was tiny compared to the others and, by the time Xan reached the end of the line, doffing clothes. The tunic came off.

Wait. Were those …

Xan blushed. They were. Definitely a girl!

An enemy was an enemy, and he couldn’t leave a threat alive. But killing a girl?

Xan narrowed his eyes and focused on her trousers. Try as he might, he couldn’t make himself release the magic. The guards near the girl gawked at her stripping. Xan eyed one of their helmets.

Hitting a girl was so wrong, but it was better than killing her. The helmet darted from its owner and knocked her in the head. Xan winced. Maybe a little harder than he’d intended. She collapsed like a sack of grain and laid unmoving.

The world spun, and Xan grabbed the bottom of the arrow slit to keep from falling. Feeling like he was about to throw up, he released magic and closed his eyes.

Thud after thud indicated stones impacting the ground. The trebuchets still hit the wall on occasion, but he’d bought a little time at least. If he could just recover enough to use his magic without blacking out.

Crunch!
Rock struck rock.

Xan’s eyes popped open. The stone under Tasia crumbled.

Xan’s head definitely wasn’t going to like what he was about to do.

Tasia lost her balance and tumbled forward. Rocks pounded the ground beneath her. She had to know she was about to die. Not a single scream, though.

Xan grimaced. She fell fast, and he couldn’t remove energy directly from her body. Trying to stop her was as likely to injure her as hitting the ground was. No matter what he did, her landing was going to hurt.

He sent a kinetic pulse to her clothes. She jerked upward, slowing her momentum. But not enough. The fall would still kill her. Spots danced before his eyes. He had no choice.

Burst. Breath. Burst. Breath.

Xan grasped the arrow slit casement to keep from toppling. Tasia crashed into the dirt. He winced.

She stirred at least and finally rose shakily.

The collapsed wall formed a pile of rubble between her and more than a thousand burgundy-clad men rushing toward the moat. The obstacles would give her a little time, but she needed to move.

Instead, she climbed onto the lowermost rocks to look over the top. Great. Could she just show an ounce of instinct for self-preservation and stay saved?

Xan took a deep breath. The longer he waited, the better. Shake off as much of the overexertion as he could.

Tasia was so tiny and frail. He couldn’t imagine what she must be feeling, facing death or whatever those men had on their minds. She had to be terrified at the army charging her.

Didn’t look it, though, standing her ground with her fists against her hips. He almost laughed. Maybe they’d take one look at her and turn around.

The mass of Truna’s army moved slowly, carrying huge siege bridges, but the forerunners sprinted. A man dove into the murky water, followed quickly by a half dozen more.

It took them only minutes to cross. The first climbed onto the muddy bank. He shouted something at Tasia.

What kind of filth must he have spewed at her? Xan clenched his fists. The soldier’s clothes burst into flames. He wouldn’t be making any more of those kinds of suggestions.

The remaining forerunners emerged at once from the moat. Xan burned them before they made it two steps toward her, but the effort of igniting the wet clothes strained him tremendously.

Tasia hadn’t moved. Why didn’t she run away?

Xan gritted his teeth. He’d float her to the top of the castle. Surely, she’d be out of trouble’s way there.

But he’d missed out on rescuing Ashley. How cool would it be to swoop her up and fly her to safety like a hero out of a story? Besides, he was sick of his cell.

He ignited a wall of flame in front of the main body of Truna’s army. He only could keep it going for a few seconds, but maybe it would create a few extra moments of confusion and delay.

Under his glare, one of the rocks surrounding the arrow slit launched itself free of the mortar and fell to the courtyard. Its fellows followed until their absence created a man-sized hole.

The locks in the cell door turned.

Xan grinned. “Too slow.” He stuck his head outside and looked down. A long, long way down. “Here goes nothing.”

He stepped into the air. His stomach lurched. The scenery transformed into a confused mess of swirling colors as the ground closed on him at an alarming rate. “I should have tested this first.”

Kinetic magic flowed through him. His momentum shifted upward. An arrow whizzed past him. What the blast?

Another one. A half dozen of the duke’s archers and ten blue-and-gold-liveried soldiers were left on the still-standing portions of the wall.

Really? He was trying to save the duke’s niece, and they were shooting at him?

Xan shot himself high out of the range of their arrows. At his apex, he again ignited a wall of fire in front of the army.

The situation was getting out of control. Fighting one army was bad enough. But two? He should have just lifted Tasia and been done with it. Such a moron!

As he started to fall, he drained life from two of the duke’s men. They collapsed. He moved on to two more and two more until all eighteen were down. Near the ground, he shifted course, applying another burst to land perfectly behind Tasia.

It was the most graceful thing he’d ever done. And she hadn’t even noticed him.

“Hi,” he said.

She spun. “Xan! What the … uh, how … I mean …”

Truna’s men approached the other side of the moat, preparing to set their bridges in place. Xan’s head swam too badly for him do anything about it.

“Time to get you to safety,” he said.

“What about the city?”

“That’s none of my concern!”

She frowned at him. “You can’t let Truna’s army in.”

“If Asher wanted my help, he’d wouldn’t have put me in a cell. As soon as you’re safe, I’m out of here.”

“I’m not moving from this spot,” she said.

He tugged kinetically on her clothes. She shot up about an inch.

“What makes you think you have a choice?”

Ashley would have bullied him, but Tasia simply met his eyes without a trace of malice on her face. “You have no right to make choices for me.”

No, he didn’t. But he couldn’t just let her die.

“Xan, there are women and children—civilians who have nothing to do with any of this—still inside the city. They’ll be massacred.”

Argh. She had a point. Why did she have to have a point?

“Fine. After I get you to safety, I’ll do something about the army.” He swayed on his feet and had to grab her shoulder to keep from falling.

“Are you dizzy?”

“No.”

“You’ve used too much magic, haven’t you?”

“It’s nothing.” He put his arm around her and moved to pick her up.

“No.”

“What?” Hadn’t they just discussed him saving her first? Really?

“Overextending can kill you. Get yourself to safety. Leave me.”

What did she think she was going to do about an attacking army? Argh! Why did girls have to make everything so difficult?

With the bridges in place, Truna’s soldiers sprinted onto them. Scores paused to shoot arrows. Missile after missile filled the sky, creating a storm of sharp metal death.

Xan and Tasia faced the onslaught with no cover in sight.