Mark of the Mage: Scribes of Medeisia Book I Read online

  Chapter 21

  “You shouldn't have let her do it,” an angry voice snapped. Kye.

  It was pitch black, and I was frozen, my body completely paralyzed. It took a moment for me to realize my eyes were closed.

  “You would have died if she hadn't,” a gentler voice argued. Maeve.

  I tried to move, open my mouth, my eyes, anything.

  “She's a healer, Kye. Her powers come from the forest, from Silveet. She would have done the same for anyone else. She would have had to. Her magic will not be denied.”

  Lochlen was calm when he spoke. I knew it was him by the sing-song tone, by the current of amusement that seemed to always flow beneath his words.

  There was a sigh, the sound of footsteps as if someone paced, and then silence. I could smell pine and wood smoke. A breath fanned across my face. Again, I tried to move and couldn't.

  “You could have warned her,” Kye said finally.

  “There was no time.”

  Lochlen again.

  “What happened, Kye?” Maeve asked.

  The figure next to me shifted.

  “There is war in the air in Aireesi. Raemon has not only gathered an army, he has also begun killing marked men and women in droves. There are public hangings, mage-fires, and tortured confessions. Daily. The king is using imprisoned scribes to write out proclamations and lies about Sadeemia, rumors he hopes to use to incite public anger.”

  The sound of paper rustling filled my ears.

  “I can't read,” Maeve said quietly.

  “And the people believe this?” Lochlen interjected.

  “Yes,” Kye said. “They believe it and more.”

  “And what happened to you?” Maeve asked.

  Kye grew quiet a moment. I knew he was still next to me because his scent invaded my senses. As much as I hated to admit it, there was something soothing about pine.

  “Raemon ordered his soldiers to kill a group of marked folk. He sent us down into the palace dungeons, all the while telling us the prisoners were too dangerous to be killed in public.” Kye paused and inhaled deeply. “It was a room full of children.”

  “By the gods!” Maeve breathed, her voice full of horror.

  His words made my heart break, and I tried to fight the darkness, tried to fight the frozen feeling that had overtaken my limbs. Nothing.

  “I attempted to break them free. In the process, I was run through with a sword,” Kye finished.

  “And the children?” Lochlen asked.

  I tried moving again. Anything. A whimper filled the room, and I realized it came from me. A hand touched my forehead.

  “Drastona?” Kye's voice said.

  I fought harder.

  “Give it a moment, Stone,” Lochlen's voice broke in. “I know you're there. All is well now. You are fine.”

  I knew he was right. Even now, I could feel the pins and needles in my arms and legs, but the paralysis still had me panicked. If I could heal people, then would this happen every time I was near someone injured?

  Lochlen seemed to read my mind. “It only happens the first time, Stone. Give it a moment.”

  The pins and needles were becoming too much, and I tried moving my arm. It lifted. Something warm was suddenly against my hand.

  I was touching someone.

  I blinked.

  My vision was blurry at first, but when it finally cleared, my eyes found three faces leaning over me. Kye, Maeve, and Lochlen. My hand was against Kye's semi-bare chest, and I dropped it, my cheeks burning.

  I turned my head away. I was in a tent. It was larger than the one I usually slept in, and I was lying on a bedroll with my head on a straw-filled pillow. Maeve moved so that she stood in my line of vision.

  “How do you feel?” she asked, kneeling next to me. When I didn't answer, her face fell. “I'm sorry, Drastona. I shouldn't have gotten angry with you.”

  I shook my head. I wasn't upset, and I touched my mouth with my fingers to show her I wasn't able to talk. Relief flooded Maeve's face.

  I tried sitting up, but quickly realized the lower portion of my body was still useless. Kye's face was next to Maeve's now. I wasn't sure how much time had lapsed since I'd placed my hands against his wound, but he was clean and wearing a pair of rough, brown trousers with a green tunic he'd left untied at the neck. It fell open halfway down his chest. A white bandage was just visible where the tunic finally closed. My eyes moved from Kye's open tunic to Lochlen.

  Lochlen saw the question in my eyes, and he nodded at Kye.“Wounds that severe cannot be healed completely, but he will need no stitches.”

  I lay there. I knew from seeing my palm on Kye's chest there was no more blood on my hands, but I could still feel it there against my skin, could still smell the stench of rot. That was what war was like. Blood, rot, death. Those were the scars I'd seen often in Kye's eyes, in the eyes of the other rebels. I'd lost Aigneis. I'd thought seeing her burn, hearing her scream was the worst thing I'd ever face. I was beginning to realize I might be wrong.

  And Kye had said something about a room full of children.

  I turned my head again, motioning at Kye, mimicking holding a sheet of paper before pretending to read it. Kye's eyes narrowed a moment before it dawned on him.

  “You heard us talking then?” he asked as he pulled something from the waistband of his trousers. It was the proclamation he had been discussing with Lochlen and Maeve. I took it from him, scanning it quietly.

  Kye was right. Raemon was blaming Sadeemia for Medeisia's current state of affairs. According to Raemon, King Freemont of Sadeemia was blocking the import of goods over the Medeisian border. It only got worse. According to the document, King Freemont was also the reason Raemon was being forced to exterminate all mages. Sadeemia, he accused, had schools to educate their mages, to teach them to kill with their magic, to disguise themselves so they could enter Medeisia and do away with its citizens. But it was the final line that caused my blood to run cold.

  I, King Raemon Berhest VII, ruler of Medeisia and all of its provinces, do hereby declare a period of unrest with Sadeemia and its accompanying territories.

  I stared. It was lies. All of it. But it wasn't hard to see the strategy in Raemon's plan. Most of Medeisia's citizens were powerless, illiterate, and famished. What better way to incite rage and save face than to blame Sadeemia for starving Medeisia's people, to claim that Freemont was the reason why Raemon was being forced to kill anyone born with magic in their blood.

  My eyes moved to Kye's.

  “T-the . . .” I struggled. My voice was hoarse, but it was working now. Kye leaned closer. “The children?” I finally managed.

  Kye's face fell, and he looked away a moment before his gaze finally met mine again.

  “Dead,” he said finally. “All of them.”

  The paper I'd been holding fell from my grasp, the scrawled words illegible as it floated to the ground.