“Then what’s wrong?”
She stared, thinking, searching for a way to drive him away that she could actually force out of her own lips. She twisted away from him and took a few steps toward the fires.
“Regin told me what it means,” he said to her back.
“What what means?” She looked at him sidelong over her shoulder.
“The mark on your shoulder.”
A chill sliced through her. What had Regin told him? What would he think? What did he think he now knew? “Is that so?”
“Yes. I know this isn’t your idea. That you didn’t choose this.”
She turned a little more, her side facing him, and they stared at each other for a long moment. “Then maybe you’ll understand why I want to control this one thing,” she whispered. “Why I can’t just kiss you and forget about the world we live in and the shackles on your wrists of my own making. Why I hoped you were gone, in spite of how much it hurt to think that.”
He hadn’t understood, but now she could see that he did. His mouth fell open as his eyes widened ever so slightly. She had to get away, think this through, figure out what to say to him.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You should’ve run.” And with that, she fled from him, back to the firelight, back to her tent. He did not follow.
He watched her flee, darting through the shadows and vanishing into her tent. He stood there, confused, wondering. How had he expected that to go? Perhaps he hadn’t expected anything. His body felt cold where she’d been against him.
He seemed to have hurt everyone except himself by not running. He hadn’t counted on that. It hadn’t felt particularly selfish. But perhaps it had been. He didn’t care if Mara didn’t want his help; she was going to get it. She didn’t have to love him back, but she couldn’t stop him from helping her.
It figured that once he finally found someone worth loving, she did not return the sentiment.
There was only one thing for him to do, besides mope—continue struggling with the puzzle that was the star map. Or was it a distraction? Was there some other loophole, some other way to save her? Regin had agreed, this enslavement was not the Way of Things. It was a safe bet that the forces that ran the world were in his favor… but the combination of foolhardy love and wishful thinking could be skewing his judgment a little.
He slunk back to a low-burning fire circle, where only a few children remained on the other side. He pulled out the star map and opened it. Would it still glisten in the dimming firelight? It shone faintly in response.
He studied it for a while but noticed nothing more.
“What’s that?” a young voice said beside him.
He jumped, not having heard anyone approach. The little boy they had saved smiled up at him.
Aven faltered when he tried to speak, then cleared his throat. “It’s a map.”
“Of what?” the boy asked. “I’ve seen maps of Akaria before. They don’t look like that.”
He smiled. “You’re right. It’s a map of the stars.”
“Oh!” the boy said, leaning closer. “Why would you need a map of the stars?”
Aven shrugged. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I found it one day and have been trying to figure out how to use it. Or what it means.”
“Have you discovered anything?”
“No.” If the boy hadn’t noticed the magic of the starlight, he wasn’t going to call attention to it. And that was really the only thing he’d discovered.
The boy sat down beside him, losing interest in the map. The flames danced as they both watched.
“How are you feeling?” Aven asked the boy. “Better now?”
“Yes!” he replied, smacking his palms against his chest. “Good as new! How did you and the lady help me?”
Aven smiled. “Didn’t they tell you it was magic?”
“Well, yes, but what kind? What does that mean?”
“I don’t know all the details, my friend did most of the work.”
“The lady?”
“Uh-huh. I just helped her. What did it feel like?”
The boy’s face went pale, thinking of it. “It hurt worse than when that man hit me. But not for very long. And then all the pain was gone, so it was worth it. Can you do that to heal anything?”
He laughed at the enthusiasm in the boy’s voice. “I can’t do it, but she can. I am not sure if she can heal just anything, but that seemed pretty bad. So maybe.”
“But what about other things? Dogs, horses?”
He thought of the way she treated the horses, the bat, the way she’d looked when she’d called after them all. He wondered if their horses could have returned when he and Miara were unconscious—he should try to find them. “I think she can. I think that’s maybe even easier for her.” It didn’t matter if he was wrong, did it? The boy was sweetly curious, and he probably wouldn’t meet another mage for a long time, if ever.
“And what about other things? My uncle Lem was born a little you-know,” the boy said, making a wild, twisted face. “Can she fix that, too?”
“Not sure,” Aven said. “But I’ll ask her in the morning for you.”
The boy smiled and bounced his legs up and down over the log, watching the dancing flames again. She was a creature mage, no? Were humans creatures, or was that something different? He groaned inwardly. So much he didn’t know. His eyes scanned the star map idly as he thought. He would bet she could heal plants.
But what about people’s minds? What about their souls? What about Lem?
What about— He caught his breath as his eyes caught on Casel.
What if he could pull down the energy of Casel herself? What if that word freedom actually alluded to more than just a spiritual meaning arbitrarily assigned to the star by some philosopher, a name, a label? Rather, what if it had been charted thusly as instruction by a mage like him—an air mage?
A star mage.
What if the same process she’d used to heal the boy with his light from the sun could be used to heal that horrendous wound in her shoulder?
He almost flew to her tent to demand the details of how she had done it. Were there risks? Specific techniques one needed to know? But then her face turning away from him, twisted with emotion, came flooding back to him. No, he couldn’t go to her. Not now. Not yet.
She stared, thinking, searching for a way to drive him away that she could actually force out of her own lips. She twisted away from him and took a few steps toward the fires.
“Regin told me what it means,” he said to her back.
“What what means?” She looked at him sidelong over her shoulder.
“The mark on your shoulder.”
A chill sliced through her. What had Regin told him? What would he think? What did he think he now knew? “Is that so?”
“Yes. I know this isn’t your idea. That you didn’t choose this.”
She turned a little more, her side facing him, and they stared at each other for a long moment. “Then maybe you’ll understand why I want to control this one thing,” she whispered. “Why I can’t just kiss you and forget about the world we live in and the shackles on your wrists of my own making. Why I hoped you were gone, in spite of how much it hurt to think that.”
He hadn’t understood, but now she could see that he did. His mouth fell open as his eyes widened ever so slightly. She had to get away, think this through, figure out what to say to him.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You should’ve run.” And with that, she fled from him, back to the firelight, back to her tent. He did not follow.
He watched her flee, darting through the shadows and vanishing into her tent. He stood there, confused, wondering. How had he expected that to go? Perhaps he hadn’t expected anything. His body felt cold where she’d been against him.
He seemed to have hurt everyone except himself by not running. He hadn’t counted on that. It hadn’t felt particularly selfish. But perhaps it had been. He didn’t care if Mara didn’t want his help; she was going to get it. She didn’t have to love him back, but she couldn’t stop him from helping her.
It figured that once he finally found someone worth loving, she did not return the sentiment.
There was only one thing for him to do, besides mope—continue struggling with the puzzle that was the star map. Or was it a distraction? Was there some other loophole, some other way to save her? Regin had agreed, this enslavement was not the Way of Things. It was a safe bet that the forces that ran the world were in his favor… but the combination of foolhardy love and wishful thinking could be skewing his judgment a little.
He slunk back to a low-burning fire circle, where only a few children remained on the other side. He pulled out the star map and opened it. Would it still glisten in the dimming firelight? It shone faintly in response.
He studied it for a while but noticed nothing more.
“What’s that?” a young voice said beside him.
He jumped, not having heard anyone approach. The little boy they had saved smiled up at him.
Aven faltered when he tried to speak, then cleared his throat. “It’s a map.”
“Of what?” the boy asked. “I’ve seen maps of Akaria before. They don’t look like that.”
He smiled. “You’re right. It’s a map of the stars.”
“Oh!” the boy said, leaning closer. “Why would you need a map of the stars?”
Aven shrugged. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I found it one day and have been trying to figure out how to use it. Or what it means.”
“Have you discovered anything?”
“No.” If the boy hadn’t noticed the magic of the starlight, he wasn’t going to call attention to it. And that was really the only thing he’d discovered.
The boy sat down beside him, losing interest in the map. The flames danced as they both watched.
“How are you feeling?” Aven asked the boy. “Better now?”
“Yes!” he replied, smacking his palms against his chest. “Good as new! How did you and the lady help me?”
Aven smiled. “Didn’t they tell you it was magic?”
“Well, yes, but what kind? What does that mean?”
“I don’t know all the details, my friend did most of the work.”
“The lady?”
“Uh-huh. I just helped her. What did it feel like?”
The boy’s face went pale, thinking of it. “It hurt worse than when that man hit me. But not for very long. And then all the pain was gone, so it was worth it. Can you do that to heal anything?”
He laughed at the enthusiasm in the boy’s voice. “I can’t do it, but she can. I am not sure if she can heal just anything, but that seemed pretty bad. So maybe.”
“But what about other things? Dogs, horses?”
He thought of the way she treated the horses, the bat, the way she’d looked when she’d called after them all. He wondered if their horses could have returned when he and Miara were unconscious—he should try to find them. “I think she can. I think that’s maybe even easier for her.” It didn’t matter if he was wrong, did it? The boy was sweetly curious, and he probably wouldn’t meet another mage for a long time, if ever.
“And what about other things? My uncle Lem was born a little you-know,” the boy said, making a wild, twisted face. “Can she fix that, too?”
“Not sure,” Aven said. “But I’ll ask her in the morning for you.”
The boy smiled and bounced his legs up and down over the log, watching the dancing flames again. She was a creature mage, no? Were humans creatures, or was that something different? He groaned inwardly. So much he didn’t know. His eyes scanned the star map idly as he thought. He would bet she could heal plants.
But what about people’s minds? What about their souls? What about Lem?
What about— He caught his breath as his eyes caught on Casel.
What if he could pull down the energy of Casel herself? What if that word freedom actually alluded to more than just a spiritual meaning arbitrarily assigned to the star by some philosopher, a name, a label? Rather, what if it had been charted thusly as instruction by a mage like him—an air mage?
A star mage.
What if the same process she’d used to heal the boy with his light from the sun could be used to heal that horrendous wound in her shoulder?
He almost flew to her tent to demand the details of how she had done it. Were there risks? Specific techniques one needed to know? But then her face turning away from him, twisted with emotion, came flooding back to him. No, he couldn’t go to her. Not now. Not yet.
