The Mage of Trelian (19 page)

Calen,
she thought suddenly. How long had she been out here?

“What day is it? How long . . . ?”

“You were in and out of consciousness for nearly five days,” the Captain said. “And the medics say it will be another few days before it’s safe for you to travel.” He held up his hands as she opened her mouth to object. “I know you’re anxious to get back home. We all are, Your Highness. But we nearly lost you once. There is no way I am going to move you one second before the medics give the word. So you just focus your energy on resting and healing. Kragnir sent down additional medics and supplies, and you are getting the best possible care. We’ll get you home as soon as we can. I give you my oath on that. But not sooner.”

He left her then, and she lay back, alternately exhilarated and exasperated and exhausted. Well, constantly exhausted; it was just the exhilaration and exasperation that varied. She supposed the resting advice was probably good. She looked down at herself — as much as she could with all the bandages and the blankets. Her right arm had been set free of its bindings, although the shoulder was still tender and tightly wrapped, so she couldn’t see how bad the burns were. Her left arm was bound up tightly; that was the broken one. That hurt the worst, but there was a dullness to it that made it bearable. She realized after a moment that Jakl was taking some of the pain from her.

Hey,
she thought at him.
You don’t have to do that.

Yes,
he thought back. Then refused to send her any further thoughts on the subject.

She let it go. If that would help him to feel better about what had happened, so be it. She wasn’t really sorry to be in less pain than she had to be. And it was probably less painful for him, since he was so much larger.

She felt him stir a little at that, and smiled.
Yes, large and fierce and strong. That’s you, my lovely. Thank you. I accept your gift gladly.

She was gratified by his heartened response.

It was six more days before they finally agreed to let her go home. Everyone from Trelian was leaving; those who remained had only been waiting for her to be well enough to travel. The Kragnir medics and their own wounded would stay, until they were able to be brought back up the mountain to the castle.

Meg’s left arm was still bound and splinted, her right shoulder and the side of her head were bandaged, and her left thigh refused to support her weight for more than a few steps at a time. Medic Lorena, the one who’d explained what had happened that first day, assured her that her leg would heal fully in time. She might have a scar, but she’d be able to walk and run and move about without limping or feeling pain, and that was what was important. As though Meg would care about a scar! She knew she’d be scarred from the burning, anyway. She was just glad to be alive.

And there had been one definite upside to the delay. On the third morning, she woke to find Maerlie sitting beside her bed.

“Maer!” Meg was halfway to a sitting position before she remembered how badly she was injured. “Ow,” she added, lying slowly back down.

“Look what happens when I’m not around to stop you from getting into trouble,” Maerlie said, smiling. “You stay still, now. You appear to be rather broken.”

Meg satisfied herself with grabbing her sister’s hand. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing here? You almost died in my front yard. I had to come see you.” That was an exaggeration; it must have taken her at least a full day to make it down here from the castle. But Meg wasn’t about to object.

“I didn’t almost die.”

Maerlie gave her a look.

“All right, maybe I almost died. But I
didn’t
die. I’m fine now. Well, okay, not
fine,
not yet, but I will be.”

“I know,” Maerlie said. “I made them tell me everything as soon as I heard you’d been injured. I didn’t even know you were here until after it happened! But I suppose you couldn’t have sent word, could you? Secret mission and all that.”

“Yes,” Meg said. “Sorry.”

“
Successful
secret mission. I hear you and Jakl saved the day.”

“Mostly Jakl.” She smiled at his combined swell of pride and protest through the link.

Maerlie raised an eyebrow, but all she said was, “Well, please allow me to convey official thanks on behalf of King Ryllin and Queen Carlinda, and of course Prince Ryant and myself.”

“Please tell them it was our pleasure.” She winced at a sudden twinge in her shoulder, which she suspected rather took away from the effect she’d been going for. “And that we are most grateful for their aid in this war.”

Maerlie shook her head. “So formal! You don’t sound very much like the girl I left behind.”

It hurt a little to hear that. Meg remembered a time not so long ago when she had vowed never to change. But she knew it was true; she wasn’t the same person she’d been when Maerlie left. So much had happened since then.

Maerlie stayed until Medic Lorena gently suggested that Meg needed to get some more rest. Meg tried to argue, but it was clear to all three of them that the medic was right.

“I’m so glad you came,” Meg said. “Almost worth it, all this”— Meg gestured at her leg and torso with her less-damaged arm —“to see you.” Her head was starting to feel a little fuzzy.

“Hush,” Maerlie said. “When this is over, you will come for a proper visit, without a whole army of soldiers and medics or any need for such, and we will catch up on everything.”

“Yes,” Meg said, closing her eyes. “That’s a promise.”

The soldiers and medics and assistants seemed to pack up the camp in agonizing, exaggerated slowness. Meg knew she couldn’t complain, especially since she couldn’t help them move any faster. She had firm orders, from both Medic Lorena and Captain Varyn, to sit in her chair patiently and quietly. Jakl was helping where he could, lifting and dragging heavy things when they thought to ask him, but she realized that they were used to doing all of this without the help of a dragon, and so finding ways for him to help might really only slow them down.

So she sat, and she waited, and she tried not to worry about what was happening back at the castle. Had Mage Serek and Mage Anders gotten Calen back yet? Were they at least trying? Meg had faith in Pela and trusted that she would do all she could to keep the mages on track, but there were limits to what she’d be able to accomplish. Meg hoped there was a least a plan in place by now. She didn’t know how long it took the crows to travel to wherever Calen was. And back. Maybe there hadn’t even been another crow since she’d left. She tried to decide what would be worse — to get back and discover she’d missed a great deal or to get back and discover she hadn’t missed anything at all.

Well, the first step was just to get back. Which had required some negotiation. Medic Lorena was firm that Meg could not ride back on her dragon. At first they tried to get her to agree to ride in a wagon with the other wounded, but that was just ridiculous. In fact, it was ridiculous for any of the wounded to ride slowly back in a rickety wagon over the bumpy, winding road through the forest. Meg pointed out that they could load the wounded into one of the special supply carts and have Jakl fly them all home. It would be a much smoother ride, she was sure, far less jostling around, and much faster — they’d be home by the afternoon, instead of days from now.

Captain Varyn saw the wisdom of this at once, and he helped convince Medic Lorena. She did like the idea of the injured soldiers getting home to the infirmary as quickly as possible. Varyn offered her a spot in the dragon’s cart to oversee her charges, but she turned a little pale at that and said that one of her assistants would make the trip in her place.

Finally,
finally,
it was time to go. Jakl was already up in the sky, flying in wide, lazy circles, sending her occasional images through the link of what he could see of the countryside around them. One was a lovely view of Kragnir’s castle, tall and stately in its nest of craggy peaks. It made her happy to know that Maerlie lived in such a beautiful place.

Once everyone had been loaded into the cart under Lorena’s watchful eye, Meg let Jakl know they were ready. He came down to let them fasten the harness and attach the cart, then slowly rose back into the air, this time taking Meg and the others with him. Some of the wounded were unconscious, or in enough pain that they had no interest in anything other than lying still, but the others looked avidly out over the edges of the cart, marveling at their speed and watching the landscape race by beneath them.

Meg looked out as well, but she wasn’t thinking about the landscape.

She was thinking about Calen.

What if he’s there when I get back?
The thought should have made her glad, but somehow it didn’t. She puzzled over this for a bit, and realized eventually that it was because she was still so angry. Angry at how he’d left, at how he’d made that plan to try to rescue Maurel without even telling her. He had gone off, possibly to get killed, and he hadn’t even said good-bye. And then once she’d caught up, he’d left her
again.

Didn’t he know that he wasn’t ever supposed to leave her? People left sometimes; she knew that — people left for all kinds of reasons. But not
Calen.
Calen was not allowed to leave. Things were always better when they were together. For both of them. How did he not know that? She didn’t understand how she could be best friends with someone who was so
stupid
sometimes.

She envisioned several different scenarios of his homecoming. In some of them, she ran to him and hugged him. In others, she ran to him and punched him in the stomach as hard as she could. In some he was glad to see her; in some he was resentful to be back.

But she couldn’t give any credence to that last idea. He wanted to come back. He’d said so. And anyway, of course he did. She was sure that he had some crazy reason for having gone off with Mage Krelig in the first place, some reason that he thought was a good one at the time. But by now he’d have realized what a mistake it was. By now, he would be desperate to get back home. Where he belonged.

Maybe she’d punch him and then hug him. Or the other way around. She was pretty sure she’d want to do both. She just wasn’t sure which she would most want to do first.

Just be okay,
she thought silently at him, trying to send her thoughts out to wherever he might be right now.
Just be okay, and maybe I won’t even punch you at all. Just get home safe, and I will forgive you for everything.

Jakl flew swiftly and steadily onward, bringing her closer and closer to finding out . . . something, at least. Meg tried to make herself feel confident. Calen would make a good plan with Serek and Anders, even if she wasn’t there to help make
sure
it was a good plan. And he’d escape, and he’d get back and — she was sure now — she’d only hug him. She wouldn’t even punch him a little bit. Not if he made it back safe.

Please.

W
HEN THE CROW RETURNED CONFIRMING THE
date and time of his jump to Trelian, Calen sent it back immediately. Again with extra speed. Before he could change his mind.

Which was ridiculous, because of course he wasn’t going to change his mind. Had he finally gone completely insane? Just like Krelig?

No. If he had, he
would
have asked for more time.

Which part of him still wanted.

Three days. Three more days to learn everything he could and not get caught. On the night of that third day, he’d be going home.

He wished the crow had gone back to using Meg’s voice. He wondered why it hadn’t. Where was she? Had something happened? Or was she just too busy to lend her voice to the spells when Serek and Anders cast them?

Did she still want him to come back?

Stop thinking that way. Of course she does.

Calen went back inside, but he was too worked up to try to sleep. Too excited, too afraid, too anxious about not having learned enough yet. He stepped through his doorway wards and walked down the hall. He still had the wing to himself; the castle was large, and so far all the new traitor mages had taken rooms on the other side of the castle, where he’d put the first group. Which was fine with Calen. He didn’t want to see them any more than he had to.

Well, except Helena. But that was different. She was different. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She’d realized it had been a mistake.

Or she is setting you up to betray you.

But he didn’t believe that.

If you’re wrong, it will cost you everything.

He was so tired of that voice in his head.
Be quiet!
he barked at it. And for a wonder, it listened.

Calen wandered the castle, not really paying attention to where he was going. Most of the other mages would be in their rooms by now, sleeping, or practicing, or praying, or whatever they did when they were alone. Finding ways to live with themselves while betraying everything that should matter to them. He still couldn’t believe how many had come. More than forty the last time he had counted. And he knew there would be more. They knew Mage Krelig was evil, but they still came. He supposed most of them were afraid of being on the wrong side if Krelig won. But didn’t they realize that if they all fought
against
him, maybe he
wouldn’t
win?