Don’t worry. I won’t get into too much trouble, she thought fondly at him. She knew he wouldn’t be able to hear her thought, but still, the emotions would flow through the link.
Firmly, she elected to focus on the present and pushed the swirl of feelings from Sebastian away. As they faded, the dread that pooled in her stomach began to take precedence. Taking in the Weather Mage’s shaken form, she realized she had a bad feeling about this...a very bad feeling. Edging sideways with a whispered, “Excuse me, pardon me,” she eased around the gathered officials and towards the Weather Mage’s side.
He didn’t look any better close up. Practically shaking in his unsteady stance. Reaching out a hand instinctively, she sought to steady him as she asked, “Sir, are you unwell?”
“Back away,” snapped the perspiring mage. “How dare you interrupt a solemn ceremony?”
“I came to see if you were able to finish. You don’t look well.”
“This is none of your concern, child.”
“I beg your pardon? I am offering to help you.”
He gripped the talisman in his hand so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear. The aid of the Companions’ Guild is not necessary here. Dismissed.”
Back stiff at the censure Ciardis returned to her place at the Prince Heir’s side. She smoothed her face over as she passed Linda Firelancer’s position among the group. Before she could pass her completely, Linda swiftly grabbed Ciardis’s hand and said, “What did you see?”
“Nothing, I thought the Weather Master was unwell. I must have been mistaken.”
Turning to look at the man, the Fire Mage said quietly, “And perhaps not. Some people don’t know how to ask for help. And some people are forever too proud to accept it.”
“Stand here. Wait for my signal,” the Fire Mage said.
Linda walked over with a no-nonsense look on her face to the Weather Mage’s side. He had yet to follow the Prince Heir’s second command to steady the ship, which was swaying side-to-side erratically. And the wind shield was beginning to falter, as well. To make matters worse, holes were forming in the shield and gusts of sharp wind and rain would come through the holes and rip across the deck in a fury. As people started to stumble back and forth, they began to murmur disparagingly about the talents of the hired Weather Mage.
Ciardis was more worried about his health than talent. Any mage under this much stress, battling Mother Nature herself to force calm when the weather was anything but still, would need to be an excellent practitioner, powerful and prepared. And this man seemed to be anything but ready for the task. As Ciardis watched the planks across the decks tremble, she noted that the Weather Mage seemed to be losing his grip. Whatever Linda was going to do, Ciardis hoped she was able to do it fast.
Meanwhile, a second roar shattered Ciardis’s focus on the Weather Mage and brought it back abruptly to their oncoming guest. Staring at the dragon Ciardis saw the most curious thing. It was hovering. Its wings weren’t moving and neither were its legs. How the massive beast was staying in the air was a mystery to her. But she decided to file that away for another time. It was still vocalizing its displeasure. Ciardis wasn’t exactly sure what the dragon was roaring about. She spoke Sahalian, thanks to a certain Companion, but this roar wasn’t in the dragon tongue of the Sahalian courts with the fluid language and subtle hisses of its consonants. No, this was primal. The roar was the natural language of one dragon to another, and something that no other being could translate. That didn’t mean she didn’t understand anger when she heard it.
And then suddenly it was moving again. The dragon banked its wings and prepared to land on the water. Incoming with its wings spread like that, it looked like it planned to grab onto the ship with the claws and rend it to pieces or so sink it, whichever came first. No one on the deck looked anything but calm. Ciardis tried to emulate their serene, well-practiced looks, but she wasn’t a convincing liar on her best days. In fact, she’d been told quite a few times that the only reason she hadn’t been outright assassinated was because her enemies were convinced she couldn’t manipulate herself, let alone someone else. She’d like to keep it that way. She had enough problems as it was with people trying to kill Sebastian without adding her own assassination to the list.
Then the dragon began to glow.
Ciardis went pale. He was about to cast a spell. Secret glances at the honor guard around her, including three battle mages, told her that they weren’t worried. Their visages were calm and steady, each stood with hands folded in front of them, and all courteous attention was being paid to the dragon envoy. That didn’t mean she wasn’t worried. Then suddenly a small ball of blue flame winked into existence at her feet and winked out again just as quickly. Ciardis was certain she was the only one who had seen the flame appear and disappear.
She glanced over at Linda’s direction and saw her pointedly staring at her. I guess that was my signal to get over there.
Chapter 3
As she joined Linda’s side, she heard her speaking in a low voice to the Weather Mage.
It was in Sahalian, but she caught most of it.
“This Weathervane might be the only thing standing between you and the next world, Marcus,” Linda said while nodding to Ciardis, “We can’t afford to loose another mage. Not if we want our numbers to stay strong. Strong enough to defeat the hordes in the North.”
The man looked over at her with bloodshot eyes. He sucked in a breath and broke once more into a chanting trance. When he awakened, if he awakened, his choice would be clear. Taking Ciardis’s hand, Linda Firelancer shared her mage vision. His aura was fading and his core was depleting.
It was the first time she’d seen a mage dying.
The man’s breath was shallow, his magic erratic, his pulse fading, and still he hesitated. Ciardis reached forward hesitantly to grasp his hand. To give him what he couldn’t ask for because of his damn pride. And then Linda caught her wrist in a bruising grip. She hadn’t moved. Her face was still turned to the Weather Mage’s as she sought to tell him a story of sacrifice and pride with just her eyes.
But the grip she held Ciardis’s hand in was iron tight. In her mind, Ciardis heard the Fire Mage speaking.
Never, Ciardis, Linda said, never interrupt a dying mage, not unless you want to die alongside them. If he rises from the trance, he will make his choice.
Ciardis couldn’t pull her hands from Linda’s grip and couldn’t take her eyes off of the Weather Mage. Occasional drifts of wind blew her hair in her face and she didn’t move. She was silent as raindrops began to pelt their skin. She didn’t answer as the retinue began to question their stillness. Her eyes and Linda’s stayed firmly fixed upon the man before them. The man who had a choice to live or die. To accept help or to put his pride before his downfall.
She felt her breath become slower. Minutes passed that felt like hours.
And then he was conscious, opening his eyes and emerging from the trance. With a slow breath he reached a shaky hand forward and grasped Ciardis’s. Linda’s shoulders relaxed and she looked as if the world had been lifted from her shoulders. She nodded to Ciardis.
With a rush of power, Ciardis replenished the mage’s lagging store. Together they fixed the wind shield, pushing it outward and making it stronger. With a squeeze of her hand, he said, “I’m going to dive into the sea with my power and still the waters. The currents are swift and they are strong. Magically and physically. You shall act as my anchor, but if anything goes wrong, you are to let me go. Do you understand?”