The Fire Mages' Daughter (34 page)

Dawn was just touching the sky with pink and crimson and rain-washed blue, but the moon was still aloft, touching the rippling surface of the lake with shimmering gold.

Arran hurtled along until he found someone pointing. “What is out there?” he yelled. “What do you see?”

“Lions!” the soldier yelled back, eyes wide beneath her helm. “And… other things.” She handed Arran a seeing tube, but I could tell by the gasps as others arrived that whatever she had spotted needed no seeing tube.

Gazing over the parapet wall, at first I could see nothing. The ditch and earthen bank that protected us was empty. Beyond that, the grassy slope churned to mud by the back-and-forth of horsemen over the last few suns. Close to the lake, the deserted huts of the supplies camp, a couple of flags hanging limply in the still air. Then the lake, with its wooded island, and on the far bank, the darkness of the black-bark forest.

In front of it, though, things moved. Many things, emerging like maggots from the darkness, crawling round the end of the lake, then heading straight for us. Lions, many lions, but other creatures too. Great furred beasts, trotting like horses, but far larger. Huge bears, shambling along. Two-legged birds, running on the ground, not flying. A large pig-like creature. Something short and squat, not furred but covered with chitinous plates and horns on its head. A huge long-haired beast rather like a horse. And above them, many birds – eagles like mine, but also a white type, with a golden head, and one with red-brown feathers.

And all of them with a rider, all of them roaring or squealing or shrieking, riders and mounts alike.

Cal and my mother appeared on either side of me.

“No dragons, then,” Cal said. “For a moment there, I thought we were in trouble.”

I couldn’t help laughing at his irrepressible humour. Mother was serious, concentrating, and Arran was busy directing the archers, but Cal was actually enjoying himself, and some of that recklessness imparted itself to me, too. I straightened my back. Perhaps we were all going to die this sun, but we would go down fighting.

And whatever happened, we would be together.

We hadn’t had much warning, but it had been enough. Before the first of the beasts had raced round the end of the lake, past the camp and up the hill towards us, the parapets were crammed with soldiers, still pulling on gear and priming bows. The commanders, squabbles set aside, fell into well-practised routines, directing the defence. And there had been time to raise the bridge across the ditch.

Not that it would stop them for long, but the deep ditch with its rows of wooden spikes and the steep-sided bank were enough to slow the beasts on the ground. They milled about on the far side of the ditch, their riders yelling, slapping or digging spurs into their mounts, urging them onward. The riders looked like insects atop these monsters, lions the size of a wagon, birds many times the height of a man and the pig-like beasts the size of an ox. They roamed back and forth, roaring or screeching, shaking their great heads. But the ditch held them back.

Not the birds, however. They circled over us, shrieking with anger, so close I could see their riders’ faces, red and distorted with rage. The birds swooped around, then fell into steep dives, plucking an archer in vicious claws and then lifting, only to drop their victim far away. Then back in for another.

The archers hit a few, but regular arrows had no effect on them. Only a crossbow bolt could bring one down, and most of the birds were too agile, flitting quickly out of range.

My own eagle was in the sky, too, shrieking furiously at the other birds, trying to chase them away. They seemed bemused, keeping out of her way and not attacking her. I screamed at her to get out of range of the crossbows, but it was some time before I could get her attention. Then, complaining, she landed near me.

Probably I should have been terrified to find myself in the midst of an aerial battle, but I wasn’t. I had my mother, the world’s most powerful mage, on one side of me. I had Cal, almost as powerful, on the other. I had two sturdy bodyguards at my back, fully mailed and armed. And then there was Arran, circling round and round us, sword out, a knife in his other hand, watching for anything that came near me.

It was exciting, not frightening. I was euphoric, and a strange urge to laugh bubbled up inside me. I was invincible! No one could touch me! I threw back my head and shrieked with laughter.

One of the commanders turned and looked at me, appalled. I didn’t care.

After a while, I turned to see what was happening beyond the ditch, but Arran yelled, “Look out!” and Cal grabbed me, pulling me down. I squealed in surprise. A white bird was almost on top of me, but Mother calmly raised one hand and with a scream it wheeled away.

Again I laughed, exhilarated. My mother defending me in battle! Nothing could harm me, when she was here to protect me.

When another bird appeared almost at once, this time I wasn’t startled. The rider was a young woman, her face set in determined lines, concentrating. I wondered if I could see into her mind, and almost before I had the thought I was aware of her, feeling her fear. Feeling her magic.

And then I reached out and took it.

Her face changed, and the bird hovered uncertainly, no longer under direction.

Mother raised her hand.

“Wait!” I yelled.

Too late. The bird screeched and flew away, not circling round, simply heading back towards the forest. Without the bond of magic with its rider, it was following its own instincts.

“What are you doing to them?” I asked Mother.

“Just repelling them. I don’t like to hurt them.”

Cal shook his head at that. “We’re in battle, Kyra. We have to kill or be killed.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “I can take their magic. See that one there?” I reached out in my mind. It wasn’t easy, for there were scores of birds flapping and swooping and diving, but I managed to fix on the one I wanted. Then I took his magic.

The eagle had been about to dive, but it stopped, hovering and flapping half-heartedly. I could see the rider yelling at it, but that wouldn’t work. There was one more thing to try. Could I connect with the eagle and bring it safely to land?

To my astonishment, I could. It was relieved to feel my mental touch, not exactly happy, but it responded to my command at once, landing lightly near my own eagle and tucking its wings away with a chirp.

Several soldiers raced across to drag away the rider, still yelling angrily at his mount, who gazed at him with a bemused eye, before turning to touch beaks with my own eagle.

“Another one!” Cal shouted. “That one there! Before it dives!”

And quick as thought, it was done. The other birds were beginning to veer away now, realising that something was going wrong. We were able to turn our attention elsewhere.

“They are across the ditch,” Cal said. The running birds had used their vicious clawed feet to scrape mounds of earth into the ditch, burying the stakes. Now they were digging away at the earthen bank, opening up a gap. Even as we watched, the first lions leapt through the gap, and then more, in a golden flood, racing towards the sturdy lines of defenders blocking the road.

“Now it gets serious,” Arran said, leaning over the edge. He had found a helm and shield from somewhere.

“We should be down there, in the thick of it,” Cal said. “It’s hard to pick a target from up here.”

“There is only one target that matters,” I said. “Ly-haam is directing all of this.”

“Then we need to take him out,” Arran said. “Can you see him?”

“No. But I know exactly where he is.” I turned slowly. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel him. It was like the sun beating down on me, a great ball of roiling magical power radiating from him. He was far, far more powerful than anything I’d ever encountered before.

More powerful than my mother, even. I shivered. How were we to stop him? And he was controlling all of this, every beast, every rider, pushing them onwards. Their aggression was all coming from him.

“There,” I said, pointing, eyes still closed. “He’s over there. Somewhere.”

When I opened my eyes, the spot I’d pointed to was a long way away, near the camp walls, and all I could see was a mass of lions. But he was there, nevertheless.

I didn’t want to open my mind to him. The aggression in him was so strong I could feel it even from where I stood, thrumming at the edge of my consciousness, low and menacing. Yet I knew I must. I had to make contact with him, to tell him I was here, watching the killing that he was orchestrating. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

While I dithered, the battle raged on below us. Mother leaned over the parapet, and I have no idea what she was doing, but one beast after another simply fell over or lay down. Sleep spells, perhaps. Cal couldn’t do that so easily, but he tried.

But then Arran nudged me. “Are you calling him? Because he’s coming to you.”

From the swirling mass of lions, one loped out of the throng and even from this distance I recognised that slight frame and dark hair. Ly-haam. And he was heading straight for me, a cluster of other lions chasing after him.

His lion built up speed, galloping up the slope and then leaping the ditch in one mighty bound, its momentum carrying it almost all the way to the top of the bank before it slowed, lost its grip and slid back down. Ly-haam jumped from its back and scrambled on all fours to the top and then slid down the near side. Meanwhile, the chasing lions crossed the ditch and bank more circumspectly at the newly created gap.

Ly-haam rolled into a muddy puddle at the bottom of the bank, but it didn’t slow him for one heartbeat. He lurched to his feet and continued on towards the outer wall of the fortress directly below me as if mesmerised. There he stopped, looking around at the wall, and for one dreadful moment I thought he was really going to try to climb it to reach me.

But he paused, gazing up at me. “Princess!” he shrieked, his face red with anger, his eyes as huge as plates. “Princess!” And he held his arms up to me.

The force of his magic almost knocked me off my feet. So strong, so powerful, so
much
of it, a raging torrent. And I wanted it, all of it. To have so much magic in me, how amazing that must be! And it was there, right in front of me, calling to me, tempting me. I felt as if I had only to reach out and—

I staggered backwards. There was no sensation of transfer, the stream of magic I’d felt from other sources. One heartbeat it was in him, and the next it was in me.

Ly-haam’s mouth dropped open. The rage was gone, and in its place an expression of pure astonishment. Then two lion riders reached him, scooped him up and carried him away.

That was the last thing I saw before I blacked out.

~~~~~

Darkness surrounded me. Some kind of aromatic herb filled the air, like a spring garden. I was cocooned in silk, cool against my fevered skin. As my eyes adjusted, the darkness retreated and a dim glow emanated from several night lamps around the room. A strange room, small and dark, with plain painted walls and undecorated furniture. A shutter rattled against the window, and outside the rain fell steadily.

So I was not dead then. Good. But where was I?

Then a very familiar face bending over me, whispering. “Look, she’s awake.”

“Mother?” My voice was a croak.

Another face, pale, anxious. “Drina! Are you all right? Gods, we were worried! Even Kyra could not reach you.”

“It’s all right, Arran. I just… actually, I don’t know what happened. I feel… weird. But I’ll be all right.”

Cal was there, too, hovering in the background. “Here, have some wine, petal.”

Arran helped me sit up, and take a sip. As they fussed around me, I began to remember the battle and Ly-haam and how I’d taken his magic. So much of it! Too much for my body to cope with. I’d passed out, and now I was tucked up in my own bed at the fortress, as if I was ill.

But nothing could be further from the truth. I was well – so well, I couldn’t bear to lie abed a moment longer. I bounced up, tossing the sheets aside, and strode across the room to the window. Outside, the rain sheeted down and all was gloom, not fully dusk but too dark for the afternoon.

“Where is he – Ly-haam?” I asked, spinning round. Three faces stared at me.

“Gone,” Arran said. “His henchmen carried him off, and the rest followed. They are all gone. Not too much bloodshed in the end, thanks to you.”

“But he will come back!” I said, pacing to the door and back. “His magic will regenerate and then he will be back.”

“Then you will be waiting for him,” Arran said. “You have power over him, Drina. And he is drawn to you.”

I paced again, this time towards the bed, so that they all had to jump out of my way.

“Drina, do sit down and be still,” Mother said.

Be still? How could I be still, with so much magic in me? It burned in my veins, making me jittery and restless. I was on fire, and I knew where that was going to lead me.

“Mother, Cal, why don’t you leave me to Arran? He can look after me.”

“I don’t think…” she began, but Cal laughed.

“She’s full of magic, Kyra. You know how that goes.”

She went a little pink, but she nodded. “Of course. We’ll be nearby, if you need anything.”

“Anything
else
,” Cal amended, making her blush even more, but at least he got her out of the room before I fell on Arran and started tearing his clothes off.

He was used to my visits to the Imperial City and the consequences of that, but neither of us was quite prepared for the amount of magic boiling through my body. I climbed all over him before his trousers were properly unfastened, and as soon as he was finished, I pulled him onto the bed and started pawing him all over again. Even then, I wasn’t sated and wanted more, which he obligingly provided. Only then was my energy reduced to a manageable level.

“Are you done now?” Arran said, as he lay sprawled across the bed, arms and legs stretched out. “Because I would be quite willing to continue, my love, but I might need a little rest first.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said, nuzzling his cheek. “I’m a horribly demanding drusse-holder, I know.”

He chuckled quietly. “You are quite wonderful, my sweet. Very exhilarating. I have not a single complaint.”

“I’m glad. Because I would be sorry to exhaust your good nature.”

“No danger of that, my little flower,” he murmured. “I am quite inexhaustible.”

And within moments he was asleep.

I wished I could sleep, too, but Ly’s magic still coursed through me. Instead, I paced about the room, sometimes collapsing into a chair, only to spring up again moments later. Servants crept in with trays of food, but I had no appetite for it.

When I heard the midnight change of watch, I lay down beside Arran’s still form, curling myself into the sliver of space left by his stretched-out limbs. Then I watched his slow breath, gazing at the lashes resting on his cheeks and the straggle of hair that fell across his brow. There was a little cleft in his chin, shaded by stubble since he’d had no chance to shave since morning. He was so handsome, so pliant, so easy to love. And he was mine. My heart was full of happiness.

But then I thought of Ly-haam, out there in the darkness somewhere, his heart full of anger and the desire for blood. Why had he turned to war? He’d told me it would be years before he became a war leader. That he didn’t want it, but it would happen eventually, when he could control his powers. Yet here he was.