Shadows (25 page)

Several more fires had sprung up among the rocks, the unMasked Army clustered around them. Close under the cliff flickered a particularly large one, and beside it lay a blanket-wrapped bundle on a stretcher, Ethelda kneeling nearby. The Healer glanced up as the three of them approached, then got to her feet and came to meet them. Edrik and Hyram stood close at hand, but when they saw Mara, they turned as one and walked away. Mara's heart clenched painfully.

Ethelda looked tired and worn, but there was a lightness in her tone that hadn't been there before as she said, “It worked.”

“You Healed Catilla?” Mara's eyes went to the bundle on the ground.

“Not fully,” Ethelda said. “There wasn't enough magic for me to completely eradicate the cancer lurking in her body. But I was able to remove the tumors that were causing her pain and keeping her from eating. I have bought her a renewed, if temporary lease on life: time enough, I hope, that we may find sufficient magic elsewhere for me to complete the cure.” Her smile faded a little. “The first thing she did when she could speak again was ask for you,” she said.

Mara looked at Keltan. His face was unreadable.

“I need to talk to her, too,” Chell said. “I'll come—”

“No,” Ethelda said. “Just Mara, for now.”

Mara gulped. She took a deep breath. Then she walked the half-dozen steps to Catilla's side.

It seemed roughly twice as long a journey as the one from distant Tamita.

Catilla's eyes were closed, but they opened as Mara knelt down beside her. Her face looked more skull-like than ever, like thin cloth stretched over bone, but her eyes were bright, the fire that had always seemed to burn behind them still alight. “Mara,” said the Commander of the unMasked Army.

“Catilla,” Mara said. “I'm glad the Healer was able to help you.”

“I have you to thank for that, I'm told,” Catilla said. Her voice was flat, her face unreadable. “You brought magic with you.”

Mara nodded.

Catilla's eyes narrowed. “But I will
not
thank you,” she said, each word as sharp as a dagger, as though she were plunging a blade into Mara's breast, over and over again. “I would rather have died than see you again. I wish I had
never
seen you. I wish your father had never contacted us. I wish we had never rescued you. I wish Grute had killed you. I wish you had descended into the depths of the mine and never come out. I thought you could help us overthrow the Autarch. Instead, you have overthrown
us
. You have destroyed us, and doomed Aygrima to tyranny forever. Get out of my sight. I never want to see you again.”

Mara felt the blood drain from her face. Roaring filled her ears. She opened her mouth, but could only gape soundlessly, like a grounded fish. She stumbled to her feet, Catilla's burning gaze following her the whole time. Turning from the hatred etched on the old woman's skull-like face, she staggered away, pushing past Chell and Ethelda and Keltan. She ran down to the boat, flung herself against the bow, and tried to push it out to sea, but she couldn't budge it, couldn't move it an inch. Her feet slipped out from under her and she fell into the shallows, the cold water wetting the dry trousers she had donned just minutes before. Sobbing, she buried her head on the bow. Footsteps crunched behind her and she raised her head blindly. “Help me, Chell,” she gasped. “Let's get out to sea again. Let's . . .”

“It's not Chell.” Hands took her by the arm, pulled her to her feet. “It's Keltan.”

“Keltan?” She turned, saw him looking at her with an expression of mingled pain and warmth, and flung her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. “How did everything go so wrong?” she choked out, voice muffled. “I've ruined everything, destroyed everything, killed people, killed my father . . . Tishka . . .” Her throat closed and all she could do then was weep, weep as if she would never be able to stop.

Keltan held her without saying anything for a long time. “It's not your fault,” he said at last, his voice low, his lips so close to her ear she could feel his warm breath. “It's
not
. It all begins and ends with the Autarch. All the pain you've gone through, all the pain we've
all
gone through, everything bad that has happened . . . it's the Autarch.”

She raised her head, blinked at him with tear-dimmed eyes. “But I . . . I couldn't save my father . . . I told Stanik too much . . .”

“You did your best,” Keltan said gently. “It's not your fault it wasn't enough. You're only a girl. A fifteen-year-old girl.”

Mara straightened and wiped her sleeve across her eyes. “You don't . . . you don't hate me?”

“Hate you?” Keltan's mouth quirked. “Mara, I love you. Don't tell me you've never noticed.”

She stared at him. “You . . . you love . . . ? I mean, I knew you liked me . . . and Hyram, too, but I . . .” The icy venom of Catilla's words had seemed to freeze her heart in her chest; now a spark of warmth flared there. “Really? Even after . . . everything?”

“Really,” Keltan said. “Even after everything.” He took a deep breath, and took her hands in his, and looked steadily into her eyes. “Mara, everything you've done, you've done to help others, to try to save people. It hasn't always worked out. But sometimes it
has
. You saved Prella's life when she was injured. You saved all those lives in the mining camp, mine included. If you haven't showed up with magic today, Catilla would have died.”

“But Katia . . . my father . . . Illina . . . Tishka . . .” So many people she'd loved
had
died, because of her . . . “Keltan, how can I bear it?”

“You can bear it because you
have
to. What other choice do we have? We all do the best we can, day by day.” His hands tightened on hers. “And I'll help you,” he said, his voice so intense it almost frightened her. “Day by day. Every day. If you'll let me.” Then his grip loosened. “Unless . . .” His voice shook a little. “Unless . . . you and Chell . . .”

“Chell?” Mara quickly shook her head. “No, Keltan, there's nothing . . .” She remembered the evening in the magic hut and blushed. Hoping Keltan hadn't noticed, she rushed on. “I thought maybe . . . but I was wrong. I was just being silly. Keltan, he's ten years older than me. And married!”

“Married?” Keltan's eyes widened. He released her hands and glanced over his shoulder at the fire, where Chell, Mara saw now, was kneeling and talking to Catilla. “Really?”

“Really.” She reached out and turned Keltan's head back toward her, her hand on his cheek. “I . . . could use your help. I . . .” She couldn't speak for a minute. “I . . . could use your love.” And then, as though someone had given her a push from behind, for she never afterward remembered actually making the decision, she put her other hand on his other cheek, drew him toward her, and kissed him on the lips.

The rush of . . .
something
 . . . through her body, almost as strong as magic, made her gasp a little, and then his lips tightened on hers, his arms went around her, he pressed her body close to his, and they kissed for a long, long time.

Finally they broke apart, panting a little. Mara stared at Keltan. He stared back. “I,” he said. Then stopped. “Um?” He stopped again. “Uh . . .”

Mara kissed him again, gently. “My thoughts exactly,” she said as she drew back. The pain in her heart from Catilla's words had eased, the lump of ice that had been there since she'd seen Watchers in the Secret City had melted, even the lurking shadows of the dead vanished, deep into the recesses of her mind.
Keltan loves me
, she thought in wonder.
Keltan believes in me.

She took his hand. “I've just realized,” she said, “that it's not up to me to decide what to do anymore. Catilla leads the unMasked Army. Edrik is her lieutenant. Chell is a prince. And I'm . . .” She smiled at Keltan. “Remember what you called yourself when you were first telling me about the unMasked Army, after the five of us were rescued from the wagons heading to the mine?”

“Least of the last, lowest of the low?” Keltan said, grinning.

Mara nodded. “Exactly.” She sighed, feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted from her. “That's what I am now.” She squeezed his hand. “And I think I kind of like it.”

They sat on the prow of the boat, hand in hand, and waited for others to tell them what would happen next.

Uneasy Alliance

T
HEY DIDN'T HAVE LONG TO WAIT. Perhaps fifteen minutes passed, then Chell detached himself from the group around the fire and came over to them. If he noticed that Mara and Keltan were holding hands, he gave no sign of it. “It's settled,” he said.

“What is?” Mara said.

“The unMasked Army,” Chell said, taking in the straggle of refugees with a sweep of his hand, “is defeated and on the run. But it has nowhere to run
to
. It has temporarily delayed the pursuit by bringing down the cliff face north of the Secret City, but it is only a delay. The Watchers are mounted. They have access to boats. And they also have, as you and I well know, magic. Eventually they will catch the unMasked Army, and when they do, they will destroy it . . . if the unMasked Army remains on this shore to be caught.”

“And where else is the Army to go?” Keltan said.

Chell turned slowly, making another expansive gesture: but this one took in the sea. “Out there.”

“Your ships?” Mara breathed.

Chell nodded. “We're close,” he said. “I recognize this coast. My ships should be anchored at an agreed-upon rendezvous point, a cluster of islands northwest of here, out of sight of the mainland, where they were to wait until the deadline for hearing from me has passed. Which it hasn't yet . . . quite.

“I have discussed it with Catilla, and she has agreed: the unMasked Army will continue north with as much speed as it can muster. Meanwhile, I will sail our trusty vessel here,” he patted the fishing boat's blunt bow, “to where my captains are waiting. We will then sail in to the coast and evacuate the entire Army.”

“Three hundred men, women, and children?” Mara said. “Your ships can take that many?”

“And keep them fed and watered?” Keltan said skeptically.

Chell held up his hands. “I'm not suggesting taking them all the way back to Korellia,” he said. “The islands where my ships are anchored have fresh water, forests, and game: that's why we chose them, to keep the crews fed while they waited and to provision the ships for our return journey. The unMasked Army can survive there, at least for a time.”

“For a time,” Keltan said. “And then what?”

Chell grinned. “And then I come back with a fleet instead of a flotilla and an army of my own, and we will see how prepared the Autarch and his Watchers are for a surprise assault from the sea. We will land near the very village from which Mara and I liberated this boat, and within a day we will be at the walls of the city.” His grin turned a little savage. “The Autarch's Watchers are very good at terrorizing villagers and facing down bandits. But they have never fought a war. And Korellia . . . to our sorrow . . . has been constantly at war for nigh on twenty years.”

Mara's heart beat a little faster. To see the Autarch dragged from the Sun Throne and paraded through the streets as a captive, to see Masks pulled from faces and thrown down to shatter on the pavement . . . “Can you really do that?” she said. “Can you really convince your father to launch an invasion? Will he spare the men if you're fighting this . . . Stonefell . . . you told me about?”

“The number of men needed to put paid to the Autarch will barely dent our forces,” Chell said. “And the potential payoff will be worth it.”

“What payoff?” Keltan said, sounding suspicious.

“Magic, of course,” Chell said. “The reason I came here in the first place. Stonefell has weapons we cannot effectively counter . . . not many of them yet, and not as many ships as we have, but they are making more all the time. Eventually they will be able to overwhelm us, if we can't find some way to fight back.” He looked at Mara. “I have seen,” he said softly, “what magic can do.”

Mara said nothing. She knew what Chell wanted from her.

“You have seen what magic can do,” Keltan said. “Then you know you will face magic when you attack. What makes you think you can prevail against the Autarch's Gifted?”

“Our numbers will be overwhelming.”

“And Catilla
agreed
to this?”

“Why shouldn't she?” Chell said. “She has no use for magic. If we succeed in overthrowing the Autarch, the last thing she will want is a lot of disgruntled Gifted, many of whom have done very well under the current regime, loose in Aygrima. She has promised that I may attempt to recruit them. With the rewards my father will willingly offer to anyone who helps defeat Stonefell,” again he glanced at Mara, “I do not anticipate it will be hard to find Gifted willing to accompany me.”

Keltan said nothing more, but he still looked skeptical.

“I'm to set out at once,” Chell said.

Mara let go of Keltan's hand and straightened up. “I'm coming with you.”

“What?” Keltan's head jerked around. He stared at her. “Why?”

She met his gaze steadily. “Catilla has made it clear that I am no longer welcome in the unMasked Army,” she said. “Nor do I think anyone within the Army who knows what I did . . . and can there be anyone who doesn't? . . . will mourn my absence.” She turned back to Chell. “Will you take me with you?”

“Of course,” he said. “I'd never abandon an old shipmate.”

“Then I'm coming, too,” Keltan said.

It was Mara's turn to stare at him. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said. “I want you where I can keep an eye on you. You get into too much trouble on your own.”

Mara blinked, then burst out laughing, while inside a warm feeling welled up and threatened to pour out of her eyes as tears.

Chell just shrugged. “It's all right with me,” he said. “Can you scare up some provisions for us? We've got a day's sail ahead of us.” He climbed into the boat and clambered out again a moment later with the water barrel. “I saw a stream coming down the cliff face . . . I'll refill this. Meet back here as soon as you can. Daylight's wasting.”

He set off across the beach. Keltan held out his hand to Mara, but she shook her head. “I'm staying put,” she said. “I don't want to face anyone.”

Keltan hesitated, then nodded and trudged off.

Mara sat down with her back to the prow of the boat, and studied the unMasked Army. Away from the Secret City, there was nothing military about it at all. It was only a collection of cold, frightened families, driven out into the cold. Her doing? She shook her head.
No
, she thought.
Keltan's right. It's not my doing. It's the Autarch's. His fault. Tightening and tightening his grip, squeezing the life out of the country, feeding off the magic of his people like some monstrous leech, ready to crush anyone trying to escape.

If Chell can get these people to safety
, she thought,
then I'll do it. I'll use my Gift to help him against his enemies.

It was a rash thought, and she knew it. She hadn't forgotten Ethelda's warnings of the possible consequences of her continued use of her peculiar and powerful Gift, but she held onto it just the same. Perhaps she wouldn't be able to help him. Perhaps it would be more dangerous to try than not. But she felt she owed it to him.

Keltan returned with two backpacks, his and hers from their journey to Tamita. “Provisions are scant,” he said. “But there's dry bread and fish and a bit of cheese.”

Mara nodded.

Chell returned hard on Keltan's heels, panting as he lugged the full water barrel over the uneven stones. He grunted as he swung it aboard. Keltan tossed the backpacks in after it.

“Help me push off,” Chell said, and the three of them made short work of what had been an impossible task for Mara alone. When the boat floated, they climbed aboard. Chell took the oars to back them away from the shore, while Mara took her accustomed place in the bow as a lookout, and Keltan moved to the stern. That left her looking back at the shore.

Hyram stood there, Alita close beside him, watching them. Hyram's face was unreadable; Alita's like stone. Mara raised a tentative hand in farewell, but Hyram simply turned and walked away. Alita's expressionless gaze lingered a moment longer, then she turned and followed Edrik's son.

Mara let her hand fall. Her Gift, it seemed, could shatter more than just city walls.

The shore slipped away. Chell, pulling with the port oar and backwatering with the starboard one, swung the boat around until its bow pointed out to sea. Then he hauled in the dripping oars and moved forward to raise the sail, Keltan, as clueless in a boat as Mara had been, scrambling to stay out of the way. With the sail up, Chell returned to the stern, took the tiller, and hauled in the sheet. The sail started to draw, and he steered a course for the open water. Mara watched the waters for rocks and shallows, and resisted the urge to look back.

They sailed all day without raising the islands Chell insisted lay ahead. Mara had to take that claim on faith, although at least they weren't navigating completely blind this time: Chell had acquired a compass from the unMasked Army, which he consulted as they sailed. As night settled in, he strung out the sea anchor and they shared out their meager provisions. “I'll take the first watch,” Chell said. “Then you, Keltan, then Mara. For now, get some rest.”

Mara and Keltan lay down next to each other on the bit of spare sail and wrapped their blankets around them. The boat's rounded bottom forced them together, and Mara found herself hyperaware of Keltan's warm body, stretched out next to her. A portion of that awareness was simply the fact he was male and the memory of their kiss lingered . . . but an even larger portion was her sense of the magic nestled within him, the magic she had already tasted once, in the mining camp.

She wanted to taste his magic again. She wanted to taste his mouth again, lips warm and alive against hers. She wanted both, and more, and . . .

...it was all very confusing, and not very conducive to sleep.

Keltan seemed to have no such problems; his breathing slowed and deepened almost at once. She closed her eyes and tried to emulate him, tried to ignore everything else going on in her body and mind.

It took her a while, but eventually she slept, and the strange protective quality of the sea kept away the nightmares that would surely have brought her screaming awake on land. In fact, so deeply did she sleep that she didn't even notice the first change in watch, waking sometime deep in the night to find that the warm body stretched out next to hers was now Chell's, and it was Keltan who sat in the stern, a silent, shrouded lump.

She slept again, waking the next time to Keltan's gentle shake of her shoulders. “Your turn,” he whispered. “I haven't seen or heard anything, and the sea is calm.”

She nodded and took her place in the stern. Keltan lay down next to Chell. The boat rose and fell in the gentle swell, its bow pointed into the slight breeze. The stars blazed down from a cloudless sky, pinpricks of light striking answering sparks from the glittering water. She stared up at those glints of diamond. They seemed closer and brighter than they ever had on land. She remembered what she had been told, that some people believed magic had come to Aygrima from the sky. Looking up at the brilliant stars, seemingly close enough to touch and yet impossibly far away, she could almost believe it.

If so, I wish it had stayed up there
, she thought.
Then I would never have been born with the Gift, Masks would never have existed, and the Autarch would have no power.

But then she sighed and lowered her eyes.
For all you know
, she reminded herself,
things would have been worse. You don't need magic to make a tyrant. Think of this Stonefell place Chell seems so worried about.

“You can't change what has happened.” Her father had told her that once, when she was little and he was the perfect, solid center of her world. She had done something wrong . . . broken a vase, she thought, or possibly a window . . . and he had wiped her tears away and sat her on his knee and said, “You can't change the past. All you can do is move on into the future and try to make it better.”

She looked back up to the stars, now smeared into halos and comets of light by a sudden flood of tears. Some people also believed that the souls of those who died rose into the sky, that they lived on in the heavens. Mara didn't know if that were true, but in that moment, she desperately hoped it was, that her father was looking down on her and loving her. “I'm so sorry, Daddy,” she whispered. “I'm so sorry I couldn't save you. I know I can't change the past. But I promise I'll try to do better in the future. I'll try to save everyone I can.” The magic in the bodies of Chell and Keltan called to her, and she swallowed. “I'll try to save myself, too,” she added, in a voice so low even she could barely hear it.

The night wore on. The stars faded. The sky in the east turned gray, and then pink. Chell woke, and then Keltan. The sail rose. They were on their way once more.