Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

T he morning proved more chaotic than the previous evening.

Dinner had filled her hungry belly nicely. Despite having openly used magic, most people in attendance appeared glad she'd acted. It made it easy to ignore the few who scowled and muttered.

Sitting beside Kormac had her feeling all too aware of him, though. When his hand accidentally brushed hers when grabbing for the same bread roll. When he shifted his leg and it rubbed against hers. When he'd murmur some naughty tidbit under his breath about someone in attendance. It only enhanced the intimacy growing between them.

It left her out of sorts, tingly, confused. She excused herself early and headed to her room but found herself restless even there, her dreams tormented with thoughts of the warlord. She woke just before dawn, a good thing as it turned out else she might have missed Kormac who prepared to depart in search of Lomar. The possessed man apparently escaped while the citadel slept. Upon hearing the news, she sought out the warlord and found him in the courtyard slinging saddlebags over his stallion's rump.

"I hear Lomar escaped."

"He did." Kormac's grim reply.

Left unsaid: Two soldiers died and a third suffered grievous injuries. According to the person who'd told her what happened, they'd unchained him because he went into spasms. Fake seizures, as it turned out.

"You're going after him." Kind of an obvious thing to point out.

"He's a danger to anyone in his path." So was Kormac in his current mood.

"You plan to kill him," she uttered softly.

"He's left me no choice." Said flatly and yet she could sense the torment within him.

"I'm coming with you," Fionna announced.

"No." Just a single syllable that brooked no argument.

She still argued. "I can help with Lomar."

"There is no help for him anymore. Anyone else would have already been executed for their crimes."

"But it's not his fault. His body?—"

"Is his body." He whirled to snap. "His hands wielded the blade he stole. His hands are the ones covered in blood. People aren't going to care he's been cursed and isn't in control. They look at him and see a murderer."

"If he must die, fine, but you shouldn't be the one to wield the blow," she insisted.

"It is my duty."

Before she could respond, a loud wail drew attention to the entrance of the citadel. His mother emerged in her nightclothes, hair tousled from sleep, hands flailing as she screeched, "Where are you going?"

"You already know the answer to that." Kormac didn't pause in his tightening of the straps.

"You can't leave," his mother insisted. "What if the dragons return?"

Gurlok, who'd emerged behind his wife, cleared his throat to say, "Those who remain will defend."

"With what?" spat Kormac's mother. "We all saw how useless they were yesterday. Only my son managed to take one down." Silia completely ignored the three Fionna had handled.

"We were unprepared, true, but that's going to change. Luckily, the envoy gave us tips on how to handle them." Gurlok offered Fionna a nod. "Spears are already in production and the men will be starting drills today. We should have our first ballista ready within a few days. I've got carpenters working on the pieces from an old design I dug up. It won't be pretty, no time for that, but we'll have a defense for next time."

Not if, when. Fionna liked Kormac's dad more and more.

"You and your inventions. I guess we'll have the witch at worst," was Silia's sour addition.

"Actually, I'm going with Kormac," Fionna announced.

"No, you're not," Kormac replied quickly.

"Yes, I am," she insisted, running her hand down his stallion's flank. "You brought me here to help with Lomar and that is what I'm going to do."

"I've seen how you ride a horse. It's adequate at best. This mission will require hard riding to catch Lomar, meaning sitting in a saddle for hours. You won't be able to keep up."

"Is that a challenge?" Fionna arched a brow.

"It's the truth," he said harshly.

"Guess we'll see."

"No, we won't because I'm leaving now." With that, he mounted his stallion and galloped off with a small detachment of soldiers.

Fionna cocked her head. "He's really stubborn."

"He's brave, a true warlord," Silia stated before stalking back into the citadel with her floppy slippers and bad attitude.

Gurlok sidled close to murmur, "You're going to follow him, aren't you?"

"I am."

"You'll never catch him. By the time we get you saddled and geared, he'll be long gone."

"Who says I'm going to ride?" She gave Gurlok a secretive smile. "Did no one notice I didn't arrive via carriage or horse?"

The former warlord frowned. "How did you travel here?"

"You'll soon see," she promised. First, she needed to pack and change. Time to ditch the long skirts for something more practical for combat.

When she emerged into the courtyard, Gurlok's eyes widened at the sight of her. "Lady, I think you forgot your overskirt."

Fionna glanced down at her bare legs before she winked at him. "Skirts get in the way when there's a fight. Not to mention the fabric is flammable."

"Fight?" he repeated in surprise.

"Lomar isn't going to surrender, and we don't know what other tricks the cursed entity might employ. Your son will need someone who can counter magic."

"I wish I could come with you," he replied ruefully.

"With Kormac gone, the citizens will need someone to look to, and who better than their former warlord?"

He sighed. "Agreed, but I don't like it." Gurlok noticed her bulging satchel. "I'll have that transferred to a saddlebag. I've got a nice mare for you to ride. Steady and dependable."

"I told you, no horse. If you want to see how I travel, we should go somewhere with fewer spectators as it involves magic." Fionna didn't want to ruin her newfound acceptance with some of them by exposing them too quickly to what a witch could do.

Gurlok's expression brightened with interest. "You would let me see your arcane secrets?

"Hardly secret. Come. I found the perfect place to launch." They went to a terrace on the second floor, large and empty of people, also not in plain sight of anyone. It overlooked the gorge running behind the citadel.

An uncertain Gurlok peered over the edge. "Are you going to transform into a bird?"

"Close." She pulled out her wooden figurine and, with a huff of magic, it expanded. She strapped her bags to it before sitting on its back.

A confused Gurlok eyed her. "This thing can fly?"

"It can with a little bit of help." She activated its runes which drew in the threads of air all around. It lifted and Gurlok's face beamed with surprise and delight. "How wonderful." He then snorted. "My son will be most surprised to see you."

"More like angry, most likely yelling, but he needs me whether he wants to admit it or not."

"Indeed, he does," murmured Gurlok. "Best of luck, Lady Fionna."

"And the same to you, Warlord." Because he might be retired, but he still commanded respect.

With those parting words, she flitted off. She was a little tired still from the fight with the dragons, but a nap would cure that. She set a ward of watching before she closed her eyes. She had her bird follow the hex she'd placed on Kormac's horse when she petted it, a little piece of magic that acted as a homing beacon.

She caught up to him before midday, longer than expected as he and the small squad he'd taken ran their horses hard. She had to wonder how he knew where to find Lomar. He would know his friend better than anyone, but it wasn't necessarily Lomar in charge. Given Kormac went east, he must be thinking Lomar returned to the cave. Hopefully he guessed right.

Rather than surprise him so soon, she flew ahead, scouting the area. Srayth was a mix of terrain from heavily forested pockets to valleys of lush green to arid open spaces where the dirt cracked, and scrubby weeds attempted to grow.

She kept an eye open for predators, both in the sky and on the ground. The perfect sunny day made it possible to see for miles around. If there were threats, they remained hidden.

As the sun set, she circled back to find Kormac. He and his men were setting up a camp. A surprise as she'd half expected him to ride all night, but the horses probably needed a rest, as did his soldiers.

She chose to land right by the fire they'd built, startling a grizzled man who pointed his sword and shouted, "Intruder in camp!"

"At ease, soldier. It is just I, the envoy." She'd no sooner announced herself than she heard Kormac.

"Fionna? How did you…" Before he finished his sentence his gaze went to the wooden bird. "You flew?" It sounded almost accusatory.

"I told you I could keep up. I also scouted ahead. Thus far, your path appears clear."

Rather than reply to that, his glance next went to her outfit and remained fixed on her bare legs before he snapped, "What are you wearing?"

"You sound like your dad," she mocked. "This is my combat uniform. Leather so it's easy to clean. Form-fitting, to avoid fabric being caught or used against me."

"You forgot short." His lips pursed in disapproval and yet his eyes smoldered as he stared.

"Long skirts are fine in court settings, but as I told your father, when it comes to fighting, I prefer to not have them in the way."

"There is something called trousers," his sour response.

"I have a pair of those in case the weather turns cool."

He shook his head. "I told you to stay behind."

"You don't command me, and Lomar is my business. You asked me to help him."

"And I told you, he is beyond help now."

"Even if you believe that, you'll want my aid. He won't be easy to take down. Especially since he managed to remove the talisman." She'd heard they found it around a guard's neck, embedded so deep it cut flesh.

"Speaking of talisman, you should have one since you foolishly insist on coming."

"Already taken care of." She held out her hand to show a ring set with a large, milky stone. "My grandmother gave it to me last night. Said it was the only rune-inscribed piece not in the collection because it was the ring my grandfather gave her when he asked her to be his wife. I assume your men are protected?"

"Yes. Although, I didn't explain exactly why they had to wear the talismans." He rubbed his jaw. "I wasn't even sure I should bring them, but my father felt it best I not do this alone."

"Your father was right. Lomar isn't the only danger and I know you think he can't be saved but...." She pointed to her satchel. "I did bring the things I need to try."

"Cure him for execution? Seems cruel." He turned from her. "I need to check on our mounts. Oh, and I hope you brought a bedroll since we don't have spares, unless you plan to share."

"Why Warlord, are you offering to snuggle?" She couldn't have said what possessed her to say it.

But his face…

It went through a strange series of expressions before he growled, "Don't play games with me."

What was that supposed to mean?

He stalked off and she stood there, trying to not fidget under the curious gazes of his men. By now, they all knew what she'd done, what she was.

Apparently, they approved since the oldest of them approached and muttered, "Good job with those dragons. Thought we were all gonna end up icicles."

"We've had to learn how to fight them in Acca as they've been plaguing us for the last year. Although, I have to admit the frost breath was new. Ours usually spit fire or acid."

"Acid?" squeaked the youngest of the crew.

It proved to be a conversation starter that led to her being seated by the fire as the men asked her questions about the monsters she'd seen, and how to best fight them. Kormac joined them, sitting across from her, listening but not contributing much.

Rory, the young fellow, was the one who mustered the nerve to ask, "How did you become a witch?"

"We're born with the ability to use magic." She didn't get complicated and explain elemental threads that could be woven by those who could see and touch them.

"But how do you know?" he insisted.

"Most discover it by accident. An object is about to fall and they reach for it despite knowing it's out of reach, only to have it slam into their hand. Most use it unconsciously, and some never even realize they have it. Mystic Keep does its best to find those with enough of the gift to train."

"Train for what?" Hogan, the older fellow, asked.

"That depends on where their skill is strongest. Many become healers and travel around, helping those in need. We have blessers, the ones who put spells on objects or even rooms such as protection for a pantry from mice. Or a rune in the garden to keep away snails and other pests."

"What you did wasn't any of that," Loff stated, the fellow who'd been least talkative thus far.

"Because I am a combat witch." She didn't shy from the truth. "It's what I'm good at, although, it took a while for them to figure that out as apparently, I'm rather rare. Don't get me wrong, we all train with weapons and learn defense spells like shielding, but most can't form missiles let alone launch them."

"What need would Acca have for a combat witch?" Rory didn't seem disturbed by it, unlike Loff who had a disapproving scowl.

"For one, protecting our lands. There are some who think a land ruled by women is weak. Then there are the local threats like dragons, and the swamp rats."

"Your queen sent a combat witch to Srayth," Loff spat. "Was it to kill the warlord?"

A cool note hued Fionna's reply. "I am not an assassin, but I will use my magic to protect myself and others. The queen sent me because I am best suited to handle dangerous situations."

"So you knew about the dragons?" Loff wouldn't let up and Kormac glared, not that the man noticed.

"I knew nothing about the threats in Srayth other than the one posed by citizens who still believe witches steal babies from cribs and curdle milk. The queen figured I'd be able to escape should you have decided to try to burn me at the stake."

Hogan laughed. "I'd like to see anyone try. You're a tough, lady. I know I don't have the balls to stand my ass on that tower, facing down a dragon."

Her lips curved. "I'm not afraid of heights."

"What are you scared of?" Kormac finally had a question.

She glanced at him. "The right answer would be monsters or death, but honestly, I fear failing. There is nothing worse than that feeling of helplessness where you want to help but don't know how. Or can't."

"Has that happened before?" Kormac probed.

"A few times. The most memorable being when the waters receded from the marsh. It left behind a mess of mud that took months to dry. When it was still fresh, a small boy fell in the thick mire and sank. I came as fast as I could, but try as I might, I couldn't retrieve him." The mother's wail haunted her still.

"That wasn't your fault," Kormac spoke softly.

"It was, because if I'd been better at manipulating earth instead of concentrating on fire and air which I found more useful, I could have possibly saved him."

Hogan disagreed. "The boy would have died of suffocation within minutes. From the sounds of it, given the time it took for you to be fetched, he was never savable."

"A part of me realizes that, but I would have liked to have been able to give the mother a body to bury." Her head dipped.

"After that incident, you learned, didn't you?" Kormac roused her from her melancholy.

"I did. I made it a point to learn how to work with earth and water."

"Like that trick you did with the water in the fountain." Eager Rory had the curiosity and eagerness of a puppy.

"Among other things. Would you like to see the earth spell I use most often when travelling?" At his enthusiastic nod, she rose and moved a small distance from them where grass struggled to grow in hard-packed earth. She weaved her hands, pulling at the strands in the ground, tugging and layering them, forcing it to do her bidding. By the time she finished, she'd made herself a tiny hovel of dirt.

Wide-eyed Rory huffed, "That's amazing."

"It's unnatural," spat Loff before stomping off to his bedroll.

"Ignore him," Hogan murmured as he came to examine her spot for the night. "It's solid. Good work."

"Would you like one too?"

"Save your magic," Kormac commanded. "We have no idea what kind of threats we might face and I want you at full strength."

At least he no longer tried to get rid of her. "Aye, aye, Warlord."

"Rory and Hogan, you'll take over the watch from Gann and Moony when the moon is highest. Loff, you and I will take the watch after that. Let's get some rest. We've got a long ride tomorrow."

Without a good night or even a look in her direction, Kormac stalked to his bedroll and lay down.

Someone was grouchy. Whatever.

Fionna fetched her bag and brought it to her dirt abode. The bedroll she had packed expanded with a simple gesture. Before she crawled in, though, she set wards around the camp, although not visibly, not with Loff eyeing her instead of sleeping. She cast a net over the area that would warn if anything larger than a squirrel approached.

Apparently, she should have placed another over the opening to her hut because she woke to a scuffle and emerged to see Kormac holding his sword to Loff's throat.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"I caught him trying to sneak into your hut with a dagger."

The knife lay on the ground, and she might have wondered if Kormac misunderstood until Loff spat, "The only good witch is a dead one."