| SORCEROUS SIGNALS |
| Written by Jack Mulcahy / Artwork by Lee Kurugnati |
| Make a donation to this writer |
| Journey into Darkness |
Mikhaila was lifted clear off her feet by a blast of Magic, then dropped like a stone into the dirt of the practice field, while
the Cadet who'd done this damage leapt over her to dispatch her Mage-Partner.
Ears ringing and vision a blur, Mikhaila forced herself up off the ground, spitting out dried grass and dirt, trembling hands
brushing straw off her blue tunic and picking strands of the stuff out of her golden hair. Her knees felt like water, and the
stench of ozone and sulfur was making her feel sick. Not nearly as sick as I'm going to be, she thought, stealing a glance
toward the instructor, Sergeant Reudh. She extended a hand to her downed Mage-Partner, Maergte, who glowered at her
a moment before allowing Mikhaila to help her up.
"Spruyter, are you careless or just stupid?" Though the grey-eyed Cadet towered over the sergeant and her comrades,
Mikhaila's height was no defense against Reudh, a stocky man with close-cropped red hair. As he glared up at her, it was
almost impossible to tell where his forehead left off and his hairline began. "Had this been a true battle, your negligence
would have gotten yourself and your mage-partner killed!"
At his gesture, the groups of cadets ceased their sparring and gathered around the instructor and the fourteen-year-old. A
single vein pulsed in Reudh's forehead like a snake. "The rest of you spruyten, this is a lesson, so pay attention! Keep your
opponent distracted, just like we taught you, so he can't use his Magic while you're using yours! You accomplish that by
working with your Mage-Partner. You and your partner must act as one! She must be able to trust you as you trust her!
But if you let your Mage-Partner down like this spruyter here has done once again, how can your comrades trust you not
to let them down?"
The Sergeant's words were mirrored in the faces of her fellow cadets. Some glared at her. Others stared past her as
though she were invisible. Even though all the Cadets, male and female, were about her own age, clad like herself in blue
tunic and grey trousers of Aurigan Army Cadets, at this moment she felt totally alone. The Cadet whose Magic had felled
both her and Maergte looked indecently pleased with herself.
"Sergeant, I..." I don't have the Magic, Mikhaila wanted to say, but kept her mouth shut. The last time she'd told him that,
he'd had her shining the entire squad's boots. The Magic just wasn't ever going to come to her. And besides, just the
thought of the Magic awakened memories of what happened to Mama and Papa. Their faces, grey as dead wood, twisted
into horrible grimaces of terror. "I can't stay focused when somebody's rushing at me like that," she finished, feeling the
color rise in her face. It was true enough, she supposed, and better than admitting the real reason. But at her right,
Maergte rolled her eyes and looked skyward, and the look on Sergeant Reudh's face told her he didn't believe her either.
Snickers from the other Cadets made Mikhaila's face burn. She blurted, "I just don't have it. Never did, never will!"
Reudh strode around Mikhaila, looking her up and down. "Spruyter, who told you you could talk to me like that?" When
she opened her mouth to respond, he continued, "Shut up before you make things worse. See, I know what your real
problem is. You have all the Magic any of your fellows has. But you don't believe it. Well, let me tell you the longer you
refuse to believe in yourself and the Magic, the harder it will be to summon when you finally decide to. Every one of your"
"Ten-HUT!" The command rescued her from further humiliation. Twenty cadets and their Sergeant snapped instantly to
attention at the approach of a small, dark woman in brown leathers, accompanied by a tall man with black hair and intense
blue eyes. A true-born Aurigan, she thought. Everything about him looked heroic, from the way he fitted perfectly into his
blue and grey uniform to his squared shoulders and straight posture. The woman, by contrast, wore no badge of rank, and
close inspection revealed the many worn places in her uniform and the mends in her blue cloak, yet as she marched across
the drill field there was no mistaking her authority. A patch covered her left eye; the right eye was dark gold, like old
coins. Mikhaila's gaze was drawn irresistibly to her as she calmly returned Sergeant Reudh's salute.
"What seems to be the trouble here, Sergeant Reudh?" the woman asked. Her single eye was enough to keep Reudh at
attention. "I'm sure even our foes in Rahesh must have heard you shouting." She maneuvered to a position between the
Sergeant and Mikhaila, facing both. Mikhaila struggled to maintain her discipline, though she was certain the General could
see her trembling.
"This Cadet needs to accept and trust her Magic, General Eurydice," came the Sergeant's answer.
General Eurydice gave the slightest nod of her head. "Trust in the Magic isn't built with a hammer, Sergeant," she said.
She had not raised her voice, yet when Mikhaila risked a peek, she noted with some satisfaction the sheen of sweat on
Sergeant Reudh's brow. "It isn't something that happens in a single afternoon's work." Then she turned her gaze directly
on Mikhaila. "Cadet Mikhaila, is it not?" she said. Her tone was quieter than the one she'd used when speaking to Reudh,
and her mouth twisted at the corner.
Mikhaila tried to keep her voice level as she answered in the affirmative, and the General continued, "Problems with the
Magic. Like your mother."
Mikhaila drew in her breath. The loss of both her parents was a raw wound that had not yet healed. She still saw their
horrified faces every night in her dreams.
Sergeant Reudh ordered the rest of the squad back to the drills, as Mikhaila raised her eyes to the General's face. "There's
no shame in it, Cadet," Eurydice continued softly, as much to herself as to Mikhaila. Idly, her fingers toyed with the patch
that covered her missing eye. "It takes a long time to develop enough trust in your own power, especially when you've not
had a parent to guide you through the change. And your mother didn't like the Magic any more than you do. It seemed
forever before she would admit to its presence, let alone stop being afraid of it. When I first knew her, she had two ways
she'd deal with it, both wrong. She'd either freeze up or she'd lash out wildly, with no thought or plan of attack."
Mikhaila's throat went dry, but she managed to say, "No one ever told me that."
The General nodded. Her face grew wistful and sad, and new lines appeared in her brow. At that moment, the young cadet
would have followed her anywhere. "She got better, but she never got fully over it. In the end, it cost her her life."
"How did you--know my mother?" Mikhaila found the courage to ask at last.
"I know all my soldiers," Eurydice said softly. She bowed her head a moment, as if lost in thought. Then she gave a shrug
and when she spoke again, her voice was clear and firm. "Sergeant Reudh, fetch me a practice sword and bring up one of
the Mages. I'll show the cadets a few things that might be useful."
The dark-haired man at Eurydice's side spoke up. "General, I remind you that you're already late for your meeting with
your southern commanders. You have more important duties than to deal with the training problems of common cadets."
Mikhaila heard the General's sharp intake of breath and thought Eurydice would rebuke the man, but the dark woman just
shook her head. "I suppose you're right, Major Col, though I could have used the practice." Her gaze touched Mikhaila one
last time. "Keep at it, Cadet Mikhaila," she said. "You'll get it. I have confidence in you."
Mikhaila barely heard Sergeant Reudh give her the order to rejoin the drill.
***
The night sky was lit only by the sickle moon. All sounds of camp activity had long since faded, except for the perimeter
guards and the lone cadet who was digging a fresh jakes pit.
Mikhaila was angry. She threw another spadeful of dirt over her shoulder, then paused to regard her work and rest a
moment. She was halfway finished digging the new pit, her hands were blistered and sore, but the hurt was nothing
compared to today's humiliation. Each shovelful brought pain screaming to her shoulders. After Eurydice had left, Reudh
had picked on her all afternoon. "Come on, Spruyter, keep your mind in the drill! No, don't look at me, look for your
adversary!" All afternoon he'd pointed out every minor mistake, loud enough for the entire troop to hear. "What do you
think I'm trying to do?" she'd blurted after he'd yelled, "Focus!" for the tenth or twentieth time. She threw another spadeful
of dirt, not caring where it landed. Good work, Mikhaila, she berated herself. Look where your mouth's got you now.
She leaned on her spade and looked out at the camp, over the edge of the pit. Row upon neat row of hide tents nearly
disappeared under the almost moonless sky. General Eurydice and the High Command had chosen the spot: a wide grassy
plain at the edge of a dark and tangled forest. Some ten thousand soldiers, men and women, all that remained of the Grand
Army of Auriga, would be laughing, singing, sharpening weapons, tents filled with smoke and the smells of burning dung,
roasting meat, and sweat. Every tent's doorway faced south, the direction from which Aurigans believed good news came.
The bugles had sounded an hour ago, so now each tent was closed with a flap. Mikhaila's team of cadets had set up the
tents for their entire company, ten in all, where some ten soldiers would share each tent. She shared the Army's
hard-earned pride in their skills setting up and taking down the camp: setup or breakdown took a mere quarter-glass.
At fourteen, Mikhaila was already taller than most men. No one else in the squad had blonde hair or grey eyes like hers.
That, plus her height, caused her to stand out from the others in ways she did not like. She'd officially joined the Aurigan
Army only a few months ago, when she came of age. Her parents, farmers turned soldiers, had died when she was nine at
the Battle of Twin Pines. The Army had adopted her then, as it had others who'd lost their parents, so joining up had been
a way of paying that back.
Now she was regretting that decision. She just couldn't make anyone believe she didn't have the Magic. She shoveled
another spadeful of dirt, and caught a whiff of the older jakes from here.
An instant later, her spade turned into a double-bladed axe. Alarmed, she threw the weapon away, and the axe became a
shovel again. When she picked it up again, it turned back into an axe. She lifted the strange weapon, ran her finger along
the blade, carefully. How did that happen? I didn't...
She was still puzzling over this phenomenon when the silence was interrupted by the sounds of voices and approaching
feet. The girl was about to call out to whoever it was that this was not the jakes they should use, when a man's voice said,
"Hold her! We ain't got all night!" She took a quick peek, saw two men carrying a heavy sack between them. The sack
was wriggling. When the two came closer, she could make out features. The one who'd spoken had a long, bearded face
with a mustache and beard. A single gold earring pierced one nostril of his hooked nose.
"I can't help it, Sneg!" said the second. He was short and skinny, lopeared, with the pained, pinched look of one with
digestive troubles. "She keeps fighting!"
"Well, fight back, you fool! They're waitin' for us to deliver this General at the border!"
Serpents of ice writhed in Mikhaila's belly. Sneg muttered something under his breath she could not hear. She remained
frozen against the side of the pit, listening. There was only one General they could be talking about: General Eurydice! She
knew there had been several other attempts on General Eurydice's life.
Sneg said, "Damn it, Feortan, get a grip on her! We need to be out of here now!"
When she heard them leave, Mikhaila risked a peek from behind a mound of fresh-dug dirt. The two kidnappers marched
out of camp as bold as gamblers, and vanished behind the forest's black curtain. No star was visible through the black
vault of trees, and only the barest of paths could be discerned amid the dense carpet of vines and brambles. For several
heartbeats the girl stared into the darkness that had swallowed the men up. She could feel the blood roaring through her
veins, and the sudden increase in her heartbeat, and the jagged pace of her breathing. She wanted to move, to save the
General, but her feet seemed to have taken root, and when she looked at her hands, she saw how they trembled. No sound
escaped from that black void, yet it seemed to beckon her.
There were no guards in sight. The jakes was too far from the nearest tent to raise an alarm. If I don't do something now,
it will be too late. Axe firmly in hand, she crossed the grassy space and plunged into the forest.
No sooner had she entered the woods than a wall of thick black growth closed around her. After the fresh air of camp, the
forest smelled like an acrobat's tights, and trying to breathe was like being smothered by a wet towel. Low branches
formed an arch over the path, with huge boles of trees standing sentinel. Clinging vines and clusters of leaves threatened to
trip her. Through this wooded barrier she barely saw the fires of the camp behind her, faint, starlike glimmers that
flickered weakly in the darkness. She longed to turn around, to run back to the comfort of the camp. Even digging the
jakes-pit seemed desirable. Ahead, she could just see the dark shapes of the kidnappers with their burden. They'll kill me,
she thought. I'm only fourteen. They're too much for me to handle by myself. Yet she could not simply abandon the two
men's captive. If it were me, I'd pray for help, she told herself, and remembered the words of Kel, the Goddess of Mercy,
to the supplicant: "I did send someone to help. I sent you." She had to fight her way through the heavy growth of
buckthorn and thistle, kudzu, sumac and burdock and catsfoot, which cost her much time.
A moment later, she was caught. With a loud crack, the large buckthorns on either side of her had closed on her like a
shark's jaws. Her heartbeat quickened and it became hard to breathe. She was trapped. She tried to chop her way through
the stabbing, clawing thorns with the axe, but every time she moved, the grip of the thorn-bush closed tighter. It was like
being caught by a giant spider.
Fire! That would solve this problem. This farm girl's not finished yet, she told herself. She had to keep herself from
moving too far or too suddenly, lest the branches close too tightly. Carefully she gathered a cluster of dried grasses and
twigs. For good measure, she broke off several thorns from the bush itself. She thought she heard a faint moaning sound,
but decided she had simply imagined it. Then she pushed the kindling up against the trunk of the bush and took her box of
flint and the knife from her belt. She struck several times until a spark leapt from the flint to the kindling, and a small flame
danced at the foot of the thorn bush. As the fire licked up the trunk of the bush, she heard more moans, and louder.
Quickly the bushes sprang back and she jumped free. She let the fire consume the deadly bushes, then threw dirt on the
fire to keep it from spreading to the surrounding growth. As she dusted off her hands, she thought, Too bad Sergeant
Reudh's not here to see me now.
But there was still the matter of catching up with the kidnappers. Battling the thorn bush had cost her precious time; the
men surely weren't planning to walk to Rahesh; they must have horses or a wagon waiting somewhere. If they got that
far, her hope of rescuing the General would be all but dashed. Hoping they were still on foot, she ran after them. She
stayed on the trail this time, and prayed she would hear them in time to hide herself. Along the way, she saw broken twigs
and scattered leaves on the trail suggesting that the two men had dropped their burden a few times.
By the time she caught up with the kidnappers they had reached a wagon with a canvas top secured to rows of hoops, like
Papa had used. Sneg and Feortan threw in their burden like a sack of potatoes. Mikhaila winced at the sickening thud
when the captive landed.
With a creak and groan of wheels, the wagon moved off, slowly. Sneg drove, with Feortan beside him. What could she
do? Even the axe did not make her a true soldier. But she recalled another thing Sergeant Reudh had emphasized: We do
not abandon our comrades.
I took an oath, she thought, and swallowed hard. Now it's time to see if that oath was just words, or something real. She
looked at the dark woods. There was no telling what she might encounter in there. With a prayer to Fehtan the Warrior
Goddess, she took a breath and plunged into the darkness.
To stay hidden, she kept well back, careful not to make any noise in the thick brush, watching where her feet trod, lest a
fallen twig or dried leaf might crunch and give her away.
When the trail crossed a wide ford, she was at a loss. On the approach to the water, which was very shallow at this point,
the branches on either side of the path had thinned, which meant that Mikhaila would be in plain sight if she tried to cross
there. She needed to seek a fording place further from the path than she would have liked. As she searched, the stream
widened, and tumbled over a knife-edge of rocks to another level. Leaves, yellow and brown, red and green, floated on the
current, tumbling over the miniature cliff face. The creek was too broad to jump, even for her, and the depth she could
only guess at. There was nothing for it but to keep moving upstream in hopes of finding another place to cross.
She had to chop her way through branches that hung low like arms trying to drag her down, and for the first time she was
grateful for whatever Magic had transformed her shovel into the axe. When she finally found a spot where the stream
narrowed, she thought she might be able to jump over. She looked away a moment; when she looked back, the stream had
widened. Did I misjudge that much? she wondered. She decided not to waste any more time searching for a better
crossing, and plunged into the water.
Her boots struck sand and small rocks at first, and the water came up to her shins. Then a hand grabbed her ankle and
dragged her into water that was over her head. It dragged her down before she could take a breath, a demonic creature
with a manlike body covered with scales as black as bile, and a fin running from its forehead straight down its spine. It
was strong and slippery, and struggle though she might, she could not free herself from its grip. She had heard of such
monsters, water-demons, prowlers through the dark, known as killers of souls. The fiend grabbed her around the waist
dragged her toward the bottom. Her lungs, starved for air, burned like acid. The axe squirted from her hands as if alive.
Into the darkness below the river's surface she tumbled, struggling. They bounced off the bottom. She couldn't hold her
breath. She was going to drown. Frantically she struck at her foe, and her outstretched fingers found something with a
sharp edge, like a knife. At first she dared think this might be her Magic working, but it was only a broken branch. Before
the demon could react, she had plunged the weapon into its arm, slashing and stabbing in her fear and anger. As the thing
tried to seize her again with its good arm, she braced her knees against its ribs and ripped the wounded arm straight off.
The fiend's roar of pain was so loud she could hear it underwater, and she stabbed it again, this time through the heart,
darkening the water with blood. She was free.
Gasping, spitting up water, she hauled herself onto the stream-bank, feeling dry ground under her. She was trembling as
though she had ague. The smell of the dirt seemed like roses. Behind her, the water showed no sign of the life and death
struggle, nor did the demon's body float to the surface. The stream, in fact, seemed narrow and shallow as it had when
she'd first entered it.
Dripping wet, she renewed her pursuit of the wagon, and caught up to it to find it stopped. The kidnappers had climbed
down and were looking around suspiciously. She clung to the far side of a tree, out of their view, and waited. Did they
hear me? she asked herself. Minutes stretched. She had to do something. Feeling around, her fingers closed around a large
stone. She flung the stone to her right as hard as she could. It landed noisily in the bushes, far enough away, she hoped, to
lead the men astray. Sure enough, Sneg headed off toward the sound. She was congratulating herself when another man
she had not seen before sprang out of the bushes and grabbed her from behind, one hand twisting her arm behind her, the
other over her mouth. Too late, she remembered Sergeant Reudh's admonishment: "Never assume the enemies you can see
are all there are."
"That is a very old trick," the newcomer said. She struggled in his grip without success. "You need to learn better methods
of tracking." He turned her to face him, a menacing glare in his eyes.
"Major Col!" she gasped, General Eurydice's Adjutant, whom she'd seen today. Mikhaila had never been this close to him;
at this proximity, he gave her the impression of a flagellant, as if he was trying to expunge some secret sin. "What are
you?"
"Shut up," Col hissed. He glanced up, in time to see the wagon start to move. He made a hand gesture over her mouth.
Suddenly, she could not talk. "You make more noise than a herd of camels."
Col bound her hands behind her back. Then he marched her through the woods at an angle to the wagon's path. "Just play
along," Col said. "Pretend you're my prisoner, til I accomplish what I set out for." Pretend? I am his prisoner, aren't I?
They emerged from the woods where the wagon was stopped. Sneg grunted when he saw Mikhaila. "Whatcha got there,
Col?" Mikhaila shot a questioning glance toward Col, which earned her a swat. If he's just playing a part, did he have to
hit me so hard?
"Found her following you," replied Col. "Figured she wasn't up to any good." Before Mikhaila could react, he had picked
her up bodily, as if she were an oaken plank.
Sneg tied her feet. "Look at you!" he said, eyeing her in a way that made her feel unclean. "There's a lot of you to go
around!"
She struggled without success as the three men threw her into the wagon beside their other prisoner. She tried to use the
Magic on the ropes binding her wrists but it did not work.
"Orders say no messing with the prisoner we were sent for," said Col.
Feortan protested, "They don't say nothin' about any others we pick up."
"You two need to think more about your mission and less about fun," Col said. "One of you should have been scouting the
woods around you. If I'd not been here, who knows what blondie here would have managed? She'd have made trouble for
you, that's for sure."
"She can't make any trouble for us," Sneg growled. "You think we're just a couple of stupid fools what can't find our own
asses without a map. But just let me tell you, mister high-an'-mighty spy, I fought in the War. I collected thirty Aurigan
scalps for my belt. What did you do?"
"Keep your mind on business," Col snapped. "If these prisoners escape, I will nail both your hides to a wall. I'll be out
there watching your behinds. And I'll be watching you too!"
Col vanished into the bushes, playing the part of the scout again. At least, Mikhaila hoped he was playing a part; her face
burned from where Col hit her. Sneg and Feortan returned to the driver's seat.
Sneg had a square face with a scar that ran down the right side of his face from his hairline to his jaw, just missing his
eye. "High and mighty spy," he repeated, and clicked with his tongue to the horse. Squeaking and rattling, ungreased wood
groaning on iron axles, the wagon set off.
"Somethin's not right about that guy," Sneg muttered. "He betrayed Auriga, his homeland. What's to stop 'im from
betrayin' us, if somebody makes 'im the right offer?" Mikhaila watched and listened, fascinated. Sneg now was not the
only one who wondered about Major Col. Perhaps Sneg became aware of the Cadet's attention, for he nodded his head
sideways toward her and said, "More about this later."
Mikhaila thought about the Raheshis' conversation while she tried to get loose from her bonds. How could Col have fooled
General Eurydice and the rest of the Command? And what part had he played in the General's kidnapping? She had no
answers for these questions; but what she could do was work on freeing herself.
She tried her Magic on the ropes binding her hands. Turn into worms, knives, anything! she commanded. Nothing
happened. Goddess, what do I do? Am I going to be a slave for the rest of my life?
Then a hand grasped her arm. Before she could react, Mikhaila saw the dark brown face hidden under the burlap sack that
held the prisoner. There was a finger held to the lips, a patch over the left eye. General Eurydice! The General spread her
hands in a "stay still" gesture. She produced a knife from the folds of her uniform, and in a single motion took aim and
threw the weapon at Sneg. But the throw was off target, merely wounding the man in the shoulder. With a roar Feortan
was upon the General while Sneg jerked the reins with his good hand, tied them to the wagon's brake, and joined the fray.
Mikhaila closed her knees tight against her chest and brought her tied hands around her legs to the front. Concentrate, she
told herself. Your soul is a conduit for the Magic. In an instant, the rope binding her wrists and ankles transformed back
into the original hemp that had made it, and she was free. She grabbed a handful of nails from a barrel; they turned into
throwing stars. Just as Feortan got his hands around the General's neck, one of the stars struck him in the eye. Mikhaila
seized the dagger from his belt and cut his throat.
Sneg, however, remained very much alive. He dispatched General Eurydice with a powerful punch to the belly that
doubled her over, gasping. Mikhaila's weapons had missed him; before she could grab more, he was on her, kneeling on
her arms, the sheer weight of his body overwhelming her. She was used to being larger than any of her opponents, and
she did not know what to do. She could not get any leverage against him, flat on her back as she was. Almost as bad, he
stank worse than a wet dog, and his breath was no better.
"You little maggot!" he snarled. "Are the Aurigans so desperate for soldiers they send half-trained children to fight us?"
Then a rope appeared around his neck like a noose, and his head jerked back. General Eurydice stood on the small of his
back, pulling. The veins in her neck stood out as if she had ropes of her own. Sneg clasped his neck, trying to free
himself, his eyes bulging his face turning a bright red. "Do something, Cadet!" the General shouted. "I can't hold him like
this forever!"
Even as she spoke, Sneg seemed to realize that he could use other ways to free himself. The muscles in his powerful good
arm knotted like ships' ropes, and he pushed himself off the floor. Eurydice hung on as best she could, but her grip
loosened as Sneg got up. "Use your Magic!" she yelled. "Damn it, Cadet, use the talent you've been given!"
Mikhaila grabbed for more nails, but they did not change. She cast a quick look around, found a piece of iron such as was
used for wagon wheels. At her touch, the iron became a sword. She ran Sneg through, just as he had broken free of
Eurydice's grip.
The General grasped Mikhaila's arm. Blood spattered Eurydice's uniform. Her single golden eye was cold as she regarded
the girl. "What did you think you were doing, leaving your assigned post, Cadet?" she demanded.
Mikhaila hastily saluted and tried to speak, but the spell prevented any sound from emerging. She tried to tell the General
by gesture, pointing to her mouth and making what she hoped Eurydice would recognize as a Magical wave of her hand.
Eurydice's frown grew. "Apparently you've been spelled, is that it?" When Mikhaila gave an eager nod, the General shook
her head. "If you weren't so busy resisting your Magic, you might have learned how to lift that spell. You can lift the spell
on your own. It's a matter of faith. The truth is, Cadet, he has no more power over you than you choose to give him." She
paused a beat, then added, "Of course, you could hunt for the one who placed it on you, and hope he'll lift it. Perhaps if
you beg him on your knees"
Mikhaila felt her face redden with anger; she hoped it did not show in her expression. She knew she must do something,
but had no idea what that was.
Eurydice gave a sigh of exasperation. "Take the reins, Cadet, I need to get on with this mission. Normally, I'd send you
back to camp, but I'd not send my worst enemy alone through those woods. So since you were either mad enough or
foolish enough to follow my captors through those woods on your own, you may be sufficiently mad or foolish, or both,
to come on this mission. Just remember, you are a Cadet in the Grand Army of Auriga. I expect you to behave like one."
The wagon followed the snakelike trail through the dense trees, climbing hills, descending into low spots, always
smothered by darkness. Mikhaila heard tree branches clawing at the wagon like old beggars, and once she thought the
limbs must surely tear the covering apart. But the wagon and its covering survived, allowing Mikhaila to struggle with the
spell that held her silent. Overhead, the occasional star could be glimpsed, briefly, through the roof of leaves. Gradually,
the trees began to thin out, and the trail widened to a shallow dale bottomed by leaves, rocks and dark mud. Mikhaila could
smell the fresh scent of newly tilled land borne on the breeze from the east, and she figured they must be near the end of
the journey. Bloody-handed dawn was a hint on the horizon when Eurydice halted the wagon, near the forest's edge, still
well under its protective eaves. Ahead, the trail left the woods and continued for some paces through a golden
meadowland, climbed a low rise, then disappeared into a shallow saddle between the hills. Beyond the rise, Mikhaila saw
more hills, covered by trees that glowed red, green and orange in the rising light. Eurydice said, "Cadet, I presume you've
been using your time productively." They were her first words to Mikhaila the entire journey.
Mikhaila had kept trying to speak against the powerful spell. She attempted to say, "Yes, General," but all that came out
was a series of croaking noises. Red-faced, she nodded her head and saluted, expecting a rebuke. The General's reaction
surprised her. "It may not seem like much to you, but that is real progress, Cadet, especially against a spell of silence,
which is very powerful. You should be proud of yourself."
Eurydice gestured with her hand and the two women dropped to a crouch under the shelter of the dark forest roof. "My
task is to go out along the trail to where it crosses another in that shallow valley, fulfill my mission, and come back. That's
as much as you need to know. Your task, Cadet, is to remain here with the horse and wagon so that you and I can safely
return to camp. You. Will. Stay. Here." When Mikhaila's face reflected her concern for the General, Eurydice added, "That
is a direct order, Cadet. No heroics. You will wait here for me only until the sun lights that last tree along this path. If that
time arrives and I do not return, you will turn around and go back to camp. Is that clear? If I do not return in time, I had
better not find you still here or you will face severe consequences."
Eurydice returned Mikhaila's salute, then took her gently by the arm. "I let them kidnap me for two reasons, which you
will understand when the mission is over," she said softly. "Stay vigilant."
She moved off silently through the tall grass, little more than a phantom in her leather and furs. Mikhaila kept one eye
towards the sun and the other on her own surroundings. The sunlight crept ever closer to the tree Eurydice had
designated. The shadows shrank. Still the General had not shown. Finally, the first beam of sunlight touched the tree's
roots.
"She's in trouble," she muttered to herself. "And I'm just sitting here, doing nothing!" She was about to follow General
Eurydice's trail with the wagon when she heard approaching hoofbeats. Without a second thought, she slipped quietly into
the back of the wagon, hoping whoever it was wouldn't be interested in a horse and wagon abandoned on the trail like this.
In a moment, she knew who it was. "Well! I follow a General and I find her pet, the little Aurigan rat!" Major Col said.
"Come out when you're commanded!"
One rule of battle Mikhaila knew quite well said, "Make your enemy come to you, on your ground." Well, this was her
ground and she was going to stand it. Col would just have to fight her on her terms. There was a space between the barrel
of nails and a wooden case of something. Just over her head hung several newly killed geese, so fresh they'd not been
plucked yet.
"You must be afraid, rat!" Col shouted. "I'm just one man! What's to fear?"
He wants me to think he's alone. Which means he has someone with him. What else was in the wagon? The iron bar she'd
turned into a sword. As she used her Magic more, could it be possible to shape-change the bar again? Or the nails?
A moment later, an arrow whizzed past her. More followed. Keeping her down while the other attacked directly? She
grabbed a handful of nails. She must be gaining some control of her Magic, because the nails again became throwing stars.
In between flurries of arrows, she touched a coil of rope. It became a black viper. Desperately she flung the snake out the
back of the wagon. She heard the sound of a man stomping and kicking in terror. Now she could take care of his partner.
She plucked a handful of feathers from one of the geese, turning them into darts with needle points. One especially long
feather she transformed into a dagger. Where was Col? She listened. Thought she heard a crunch of gravel on her right
side. She began to inch quietly forward, trying to make as little sound as possible. All the while she listened for the
footsteps. Now he was at the left rear. She guessed that he was considering the risk of jumping into the wagon versus
using the bow. With the silence of a girl born at the edge of a forest, she slithered out of the wagon's front end by using
the wooden seat to pull herself. Col would not expect her to leave the shelter of the wagon to come outside, where he had
the greater advantage.
"We are going to divide you among ourselves, little Aurigan rat," she heard him boast. "By the time we're through, you'll be
a thoroughly trained and compliant slave girl."
Now or never.
She jumped down the right side of the wagon and raced along that side toward the back. Stopped. Peered around the
corner. The accomplice lay on the ground, unmoving. I guess that snake was poisonous, she thought. Pity. Col was
looking into the wagon. He must have realized that she was not there.
She took one of the darts from her belt and threw it at him, catching him on the right side of his face. He yelled.
And with that, her voice returned. She charged, leading with the dagger. Her shoulder took him in the gut, knocking the
wind out of him. But when she tried to follow up, he grabbed her ankle and dragged her down, knocking the dagger out of
her hand. She scrambled to get the dagger, but Col kicked it well beyond her reach. They both stood and faced each other,
like wrestlers.
Suddenly he sprang and knocked her down, hands clutching her around the throat. She tried to bring her strength to bear,
but with Col on top, she could gain no purchase. She struggled, but all the while, lack of air was sapping her strength. I'm
going to end up a slave, she thought. He'll drag me back to Rahesh in chains!
She was losing consciousness. Yet within her lurked a strength she had not realized. I defeated the water-demon and the
prison of thorns! she told herself. I can defeat him too! With barely a moment's consciousness left, she knew what to do.
The Magic filled her in a torrent, and she herself became the weapon, a huge wooly mammoth that rose from the forest
floor, caught Col in her trunk and slammed him to the ground, where he lay gasping for breath and holding his ribs. In an
instant, she returned herself to her own form, found more rope, and bound him hand and foot.
"How could you betray your own country?" she demanded as she wrapped the rope around his ankles.
When he spat, she nearly choked him. "My country fails to see talent when it's right in its midst! Talent? It means how
friendly you are with the precious General Eurydice!"
"Is that so?" came another voice. Mikhaila and Col both turned to see a tall, willowy woman approach. She, too, was dark
like General Eurydice, though slightly paler in complexion. The General stood a pace behind her. The newcomer was clad
in a silvery dress that seemed to change color depending on how she moved. Mikhaila's Magic surged in the presence of
this woman. She realized that she must be one of the Elder Witches, who were the real power behind Auriga and its Army.
She bowed her head, though no one had commanded it.
"I find your opinion most interesting, Major," said the Elder. "Seeing as how it was at General Eurydice's recommendation
you received your first commission!" She held out her fist and opened her fingers in a sprinkling motion, and Col shrank to
the size of a rat. The Elder Witch then plucked him up by the arm and deposited him into a pocket of her gown. She
passed her hand over the pocket and the seam vanished. Then she looked back at the others, a cold expression on her
face. "He can stay there in the dark, wondering what we're going to do to him next. A partial payment for the kindnesses
extended to me by my Raheshi jailers." In that brief instant, Mikhaila saw something dark and mysterious in the Elder's
face, yet a breath later, her face had become open and kindly, as though nothing had ever happened. Mikhaila, though,
looked into the Elder's eyes and caught a glimpse of that same ominous shadow. _Not a woman to cross_, she thought,
and wondered what sort of power could possibly keep her prisoner.
***
Mikhaila thought her life would return to its normal routine of training and Magic. The official explanation for her absence
was that she had been on a special mission for General Eurydice. She thought that would get her out of trouble with
Sergeant Reudh, but the result seemed exactly the opposite. The Sergeant seemed angry he hadn't been made privy to the
"special mission," and went out of his way to be hard on Mikhaila, giving her more and more difficult exercises than the
other Cadets. The fact she could usually solve anything he threw at her only served to infuriate him more. The rest of her
squad, especially Maergte, spoke to her as little as possible; when she would approach a group of them who were talking,
their conversation would cease until she was past.
About two weeks after her adventure, she received a summons to General Eurydice's office. When she entered, both the
General and the rescued Elder, Moirea, awaited her. She started to bow her head and murmur, "Honored Elder," when
Moirea lifted a hand.
"As you were, Cadet Mikhaila," Elder Moirea said. "We thought we should commend you, both for taking the initiative to
try to right a wrong, and for overcoming your fear of your own Magic. Either of those in itself would be a challenge;
dealing with them both is highly commendable. You should be proud of yourself."
Eurydice spoke. "To show you that no good deed goes unpunished, however, we present you a proposition: I have a need
for a personal aide, someone to keep my appointments straight, handle my correspondence, and so on. It must be
someone I can trust absolutely, whose loyalty is without question. She should be willing to tell me when I'm wrong, and
stand up to me now and then for something she strongly believes in." She laid her hands on Mikhaila's shoulders. "I'd like
you to fill that post."
Mikhaila gasped, "Me? But I thought I would just continue with my squad."
Eurydice's mouth formed a moue. "I think you've already found how difficult that will be," she said.
"Things can never be the way they used to be," said Elder Moirea. "Every gain comes with a loss. But your training will
continue, in both tactics of soldiering and in the Magic General Eurydice and I had a rather spirited debate over which of
us should earn your services. In the end, we decided we both would." She smiled at Mikhaila's puzzled expression. "I shall
tutor you in the Magic, and General Eurydice shall take a few hours a week to supplement your military training," she said.
"This is as much for our benefit as yours. If we don't use the skills the Goddess gave us, we could lose them. So,
assuming you accept, your shared time will be spent helping yourself and ourselves to sharpen our skills."
Mikhaila looked out the window, saw squads of Cadets practicing on the drill fields. When she turned back, the General
was nodding sadly. "I'll make you proud of me General," she said, then blushed when she realized that she should have
addressed Elder Moirea before General Eurydice.
Eurydice's mouth twitched. "You've done that already."
the Cadet who'd done this damage leapt over her to dispatch her Mage-Partner.
Ears ringing and vision a blur, Mikhaila forced herself up off the ground, spitting out dried grass and dirt, trembling hands
brushing straw off her blue tunic and picking strands of the stuff out of her golden hair. Her knees felt like water, and the
stench of ozone and sulfur was making her feel sick. Not nearly as sick as I'm going to be, she thought, stealing a glance
toward the instructor, Sergeant Reudh. She extended a hand to her downed Mage-Partner, Maergte, who glowered at her
a moment before allowing Mikhaila to help her up.
"Spruyter, are you careless or just stupid?" Though the grey-eyed Cadet towered over the sergeant and her comrades,
Mikhaila's height was no defense against Reudh, a stocky man with close-cropped red hair. As he glared up at her, it was
almost impossible to tell where his forehead left off and his hairline began. "Had this been a true battle, your negligence
would have gotten yourself and your mage-partner killed!"
At his gesture, the groups of cadets ceased their sparring and gathered around the instructor and the fourteen-year-old. A
single vein pulsed in Reudh's forehead like a snake. "The rest of you spruyten, this is a lesson, so pay attention! Keep your
opponent distracted, just like we taught you, so he can't use his Magic while you're using yours! You accomplish that by
working with your Mage-Partner. You and your partner must act as one! She must be able to trust you as you trust her!
But if you let your Mage-Partner down like this spruyter here has done once again, how can your comrades trust you not
to let them down?"
The Sergeant's words were mirrored in the faces of her fellow cadets. Some glared at her. Others stared past her as
though she were invisible. Even though all the Cadets, male and female, were about her own age, clad like herself in blue
tunic and grey trousers of Aurigan Army Cadets, at this moment she felt totally alone. The Cadet whose Magic had felled
both her and Maergte looked indecently pleased with herself.
"Sergeant, I..." I don't have the Magic, Mikhaila wanted to say, but kept her mouth shut. The last time she'd told him that,
he'd had her shining the entire squad's boots. The Magic just wasn't ever going to come to her. And besides, just the
thought of the Magic awakened memories of what happened to Mama and Papa. Their faces, grey as dead wood, twisted
into horrible grimaces of terror. "I can't stay focused when somebody's rushing at me like that," she finished, feeling the
color rise in her face. It was true enough, she supposed, and better than admitting the real reason. But at her right,
Maergte rolled her eyes and looked skyward, and the look on Sergeant Reudh's face told her he didn't believe her either.
Snickers from the other Cadets made Mikhaila's face burn. She blurted, "I just don't have it. Never did, never will!"
Reudh strode around Mikhaila, looking her up and down. "Spruyter, who told you you could talk to me like that?" When
she opened her mouth to respond, he continued, "Shut up before you make things worse. See, I know what your real
problem is. You have all the Magic any of your fellows has. But you don't believe it. Well, let me tell you the longer you
refuse to believe in yourself and the Magic, the harder it will be to summon when you finally decide to. Every one of your"
"Ten-HUT!" The command rescued her from further humiliation. Twenty cadets and their Sergeant snapped instantly to
attention at the approach of a small, dark woman in brown leathers, accompanied by a tall man with black hair and intense
blue eyes. A true-born Aurigan, she thought. Everything about him looked heroic, from the way he fitted perfectly into his
blue and grey uniform to his squared shoulders and straight posture. The woman, by contrast, wore no badge of rank, and
close inspection revealed the many worn places in her uniform and the mends in her blue cloak, yet as she marched across
the drill field there was no mistaking her authority. A patch covered her left eye; the right eye was dark gold, like old
coins. Mikhaila's gaze was drawn irresistibly to her as she calmly returned Sergeant Reudh's salute.
"What seems to be the trouble here, Sergeant Reudh?" the woman asked. Her single eye was enough to keep Reudh at
attention. "I'm sure even our foes in Rahesh must have heard you shouting." She maneuvered to a position between the
Sergeant and Mikhaila, facing both. Mikhaila struggled to maintain her discipline, though she was certain the General could
see her trembling.
"This Cadet needs to accept and trust her Magic, General Eurydice," came the Sergeant's answer.
General Eurydice gave the slightest nod of her head. "Trust in the Magic isn't built with a hammer, Sergeant," she said.
She had not raised her voice, yet when Mikhaila risked a peek, she noted with some satisfaction the sheen of sweat on
Sergeant Reudh's brow. "It isn't something that happens in a single afternoon's work." Then she turned her gaze directly
on Mikhaila. "Cadet Mikhaila, is it not?" she said. Her tone was quieter than the one she'd used when speaking to Reudh,
and her mouth twisted at the corner.
Mikhaila tried to keep her voice level as she answered in the affirmative, and the General continued, "Problems with the
Magic. Like your mother."
Mikhaila drew in her breath. The loss of both her parents was a raw wound that had not yet healed. She still saw their
horrified faces every night in her dreams.
Sergeant Reudh ordered the rest of the squad back to the drills, as Mikhaila raised her eyes to the General's face. "There's
no shame in it, Cadet," Eurydice continued softly, as much to herself as to Mikhaila. Idly, her fingers toyed with the patch
that covered her missing eye. "It takes a long time to develop enough trust in your own power, especially when you've not
had a parent to guide you through the change. And your mother didn't like the Magic any more than you do. It seemed
forever before she would admit to its presence, let alone stop being afraid of it. When I first knew her, she had two ways
she'd deal with it, both wrong. She'd either freeze up or she'd lash out wildly, with no thought or plan of attack."
Mikhaila's throat went dry, but she managed to say, "No one ever told me that."
The General nodded. Her face grew wistful and sad, and new lines appeared in her brow. At that moment, the young cadet
would have followed her anywhere. "She got better, but she never got fully over it. In the end, it cost her her life."
"How did you--know my mother?" Mikhaila found the courage to ask at last.
"I know all my soldiers," Eurydice said softly. She bowed her head a moment, as if lost in thought. Then she gave a shrug
and when she spoke again, her voice was clear and firm. "Sergeant Reudh, fetch me a practice sword and bring up one of
the Mages. I'll show the cadets a few things that might be useful."
The dark-haired man at Eurydice's side spoke up. "General, I remind you that you're already late for your meeting with
your southern commanders. You have more important duties than to deal with the training problems of common cadets."
Mikhaila heard the General's sharp intake of breath and thought Eurydice would rebuke the man, but the dark woman just
shook her head. "I suppose you're right, Major Col, though I could have used the practice." Her gaze touched Mikhaila one
last time. "Keep at it, Cadet Mikhaila," she said. "You'll get it. I have confidence in you."
Mikhaila barely heard Sergeant Reudh give her the order to rejoin the drill.
***
The night sky was lit only by the sickle moon. All sounds of camp activity had long since faded, except for the perimeter
guards and the lone cadet who was digging a fresh jakes pit.
Mikhaila was angry. She threw another spadeful of dirt over her shoulder, then paused to regard her work and rest a
moment. She was halfway finished digging the new pit, her hands were blistered and sore, but the hurt was nothing
compared to today's humiliation. Each shovelful brought pain screaming to her shoulders. After Eurydice had left, Reudh
had picked on her all afternoon. "Come on, Spruyter, keep your mind in the drill! No, don't look at me, look for your
adversary!" All afternoon he'd pointed out every minor mistake, loud enough for the entire troop to hear. "What do you
think I'm trying to do?" she'd blurted after he'd yelled, "Focus!" for the tenth or twentieth time. She threw another spadeful
of dirt, not caring where it landed. Good work, Mikhaila, she berated herself. Look where your mouth's got you now.
She leaned on her spade and looked out at the camp, over the edge of the pit. Row upon neat row of hide tents nearly
disappeared under the almost moonless sky. General Eurydice and the High Command had chosen the spot: a wide grassy
plain at the edge of a dark and tangled forest. Some ten thousand soldiers, men and women, all that remained of the Grand
Army of Auriga, would be laughing, singing, sharpening weapons, tents filled with smoke and the smells of burning dung,
roasting meat, and sweat. Every tent's doorway faced south, the direction from which Aurigans believed good news came.
The bugles had sounded an hour ago, so now each tent was closed with a flap. Mikhaila's team of cadets had set up the
tents for their entire company, ten in all, where some ten soldiers would share each tent. She shared the Army's
hard-earned pride in their skills setting up and taking down the camp: setup or breakdown took a mere quarter-glass.
At fourteen, Mikhaila was already taller than most men. No one else in the squad had blonde hair or grey eyes like hers.
That, plus her height, caused her to stand out from the others in ways she did not like. She'd officially joined the Aurigan
Army only a few months ago, when she came of age. Her parents, farmers turned soldiers, had died when she was nine at
the Battle of Twin Pines. The Army had adopted her then, as it had others who'd lost their parents, so joining up had been
a way of paying that back.
Now she was regretting that decision. She just couldn't make anyone believe she didn't have the Magic. She shoveled
another spadeful of dirt, and caught a whiff of the older jakes from here.
An instant later, her spade turned into a double-bladed axe. Alarmed, she threw the weapon away, and the axe became a
shovel again. When she picked it up again, it turned back into an axe. She lifted the strange weapon, ran her finger along
the blade, carefully. How did that happen? I didn't...
She was still puzzling over this phenomenon when the silence was interrupted by the sounds of voices and approaching
feet. The girl was about to call out to whoever it was that this was not the jakes they should use, when a man's voice said,
"Hold her! We ain't got all night!" She took a quick peek, saw two men carrying a heavy sack between them. The sack
was wriggling. When the two came closer, she could make out features. The one who'd spoken had a long, bearded face
with a mustache and beard. A single gold earring pierced one nostril of his hooked nose.
"I can't help it, Sneg!" said the second. He was short and skinny, lopeared, with the pained, pinched look of one with
digestive troubles. "She keeps fighting!"
"Well, fight back, you fool! They're waitin' for us to deliver this General at the border!"
Serpents of ice writhed in Mikhaila's belly. Sneg muttered something under his breath she could not hear. She remained
frozen against the side of the pit, listening. There was only one General they could be talking about: General Eurydice! She
knew there had been several other attempts on General Eurydice's life.
Sneg said, "Damn it, Feortan, get a grip on her! We need to be out of here now!"
When she heard them leave, Mikhaila risked a peek from behind a mound of fresh-dug dirt. The two kidnappers marched
out of camp as bold as gamblers, and vanished behind the forest's black curtain. No star was visible through the black
vault of trees, and only the barest of paths could be discerned amid the dense carpet of vines and brambles. For several
heartbeats the girl stared into the darkness that had swallowed the men up. She could feel the blood roaring through her
veins, and the sudden increase in her heartbeat, and the jagged pace of her breathing. She wanted to move, to save the
General, but her feet seemed to have taken root, and when she looked at her hands, she saw how they trembled. No sound
escaped from that black void, yet it seemed to beckon her.
There were no guards in sight. The jakes was too far from the nearest tent to raise an alarm. If I don't do something now,
it will be too late. Axe firmly in hand, she crossed the grassy space and plunged into the forest.
No sooner had she entered the woods than a wall of thick black growth closed around her. After the fresh air of camp, the
forest smelled like an acrobat's tights, and trying to breathe was like being smothered by a wet towel. Low branches
formed an arch over the path, with huge boles of trees standing sentinel. Clinging vines and clusters of leaves threatened to
trip her. Through this wooded barrier she barely saw the fires of the camp behind her, faint, starlike glimmers that
flickered weakly in the darkness. She longed to turn around, to run back to the comfort of the camp. Even digging the
jakes-pit seemed desirable. Ahead, she could just see the dark shapes of the kidnappers with their burden. They'll kill me,
she thought. I'm only fourteen. They're too much for me to handle by myself. Yet she could not simply abandon the two
men's captive. If it were me, I'd pray for help, she told herself, and remembered the words of Kel, the Goddess of Mercy,
to the supplicant: "I did send someone to help. I sent you." She had to fight her way through the heavy growth of
buckthorn and thistle, kudzu, sumac and burdock and catsfoot, which cost her much time.
A moment later, she was caught. With a loud crack, the large buckthorns on either side of her had closed on her like a
shark's jaws. Her heartbeat quickened and it became hard to breathe. She was trapped. She tried to chop her way through
the stabbing, clawing thorns with the axe, but every time she moved, the grip of the thorn-bush closed tighter. It was like
being caught by a giant spider.
Fire! That would solve this problem. This farm girl's not finished yet, she told herself. She had to keep herself from
moving too far or too suddenly, lest the branches close too tightly. Carefully she gathered a cluster of dried grasses and
twigs. For good measure, she broke off several thorns from the bush itself. She thought she heard a faint moaning sound,
but decided she had simply imagined it. Then she pushed the kindling up against the trunk of the bush and took her box of
flint and the knife from her belt. She struck several times until a spark leapt from the flint to the kindling, and a small flame
danced at the foot of the thorn bush. As the fire licked up the trunk of the bush, she heard more moans, and louder.
Quickly the bushes sprang back and she jumped free. She let the fire consume the deadly bushes, then threw dirt on the
fire to keep it from spreading to the surrounding growth. As she dusted off her hands, she thought, Too bad Sergeant
Reudh's not here to see me now.
But there was still the matter of catching up with the kidnappers. Battling the thorn bush had cost her precious time; the
men surely weren't planning to walk to Rahesh; they must have horses or a wagon waiting somewhere. If they got that
far, her hope of rescuing the General would be all but dashed. Hoping they were still on foot, she ran after them. She
stayed on the trail this time, and prayed she would hear them in time to hide herself. Along the way, she saw broken twigs
and scattered leaves on the trail suggesting that the two men had dropped their burden a few times.
By the time she caught up with the kidnappers they had reached a wagon with a canvas top secured to rows of hoops, like
Papa had used. Sneg and Feortan threw in their burden like a sack of potatoes. Mikhaila winced at the sickening thud
when the captive landed.
With a creak and groan of wheels, the wagon moved off, slowly. Sneg drove, with Feortan beside him. What could she
do? Even the axe did not make her a true soldier. But she recalled another thing Sergeant Reudh had emphasized: We do
not abandon our comrades.
I took an oath, she thought, and swallowed hard. Now it's time to see if that oath was just words, or something real. She
looked at the dark woods. There was no telling what she might encounter in there. With a prayer to Fehtan the Warrior
Goddess, she took a breath and plunged into the darkness.
To stay hidden, she kept well back, careful not to make any noise in the thick brush, watching where her feet trod, lest a
fallen twig or dried leaf might crunch and give her away.
When the trail crossed a wide ford, she was at a loss. On the approach to the water, which was very shallow at this point,
the branches on either side of the path had thinned, which meant that Mikhaila would be in plain sight if she tried to cross
there. She needed to seek a fording place further from the path than she would have liked. As she searched, the stream
widened, and tumbled over a knife-edge of rocks to another level. Leaves, yellow and brown, red and green, floated on the
current, tumbling over the miniature cliff face. The creek was too broad to jump, even for her, and the depth she could
only guess at. There was nothing for it but to keep moving upstream in hopes of finding another place to cross.
She had to chop her way through branches that hung low like arms trying to drag her down, and for the first time she was
grateful for whatever Magic had transformed her shovel into the axe. When she finally found a spot where the stream
narrowed, she thought she might be able to jump over. She looked away a moment; when she looked back, the stream had
widened. Did I misjudge that much? she wondered. She decided not to waste any more time searching for a better
crossing, and plunged into the water.
Her boots struck sand and small rocks at first, and the water came up to her shins. Then a hand grabbed her ankle and
dragged her into water that was over her head. It dragged her down before she could take a breath, a demonic creature
with a manlike body covered with scales as black as bile, and a fin running from its forehead straight down its spine. It
was strong and slippery, and struggle though she might, she could not free herself from its grip. She had heard of such
monsters, water-demons, prowlers through the dark, known as killers of souls. The fiend grabbed her around the waist
dragged her toward the bottom. Her lungs, starved for air, burned like acid. The axe squirted from her hands as if alive.
Into the darkness below the river's surface she tumbled, struggling. They bounced off the bottom. She couldn't hold her
breath. She was going to drown. Frantically she struck at her foe, and her outstretched fingers found something with a
sharp edge, like a knife. At first she dared think this might be her Magic working, but it was only a broken branch. Before
the demon could react, she had plunged the weapon into its arm, slashing and stabbing in her fear and anger. As the thing
tried to seize her again with its good arm, she braced her knees against its ribs and ripped the wounded arm straight off.
The fiend's roar of pain was so loud she could hear it underwater, and she stabbed it again, this time through the heart,
darkening the water with blood. She was free.
Gasping, spitting up water, she hauled herself onto the stream-bank, feeling dry ground under her. She was trembling as
though she had ague. The smell of the dirt seemed like roses. Behind her, the water showed no sign of the life and death
struggle, nor did the demon's body float to the surface. The stream, in fact, seemed narrow and shallow as it had when
she'd first entered it.
Dripping wet, she renewed her pursuit of the wagon, and caught up to it to find it stopped. The kidnappers had climbed
down and were looking around suspiciously. She clung to the far side of a tree, out of their view, and waited. Did they
hear me? she asked herself. Minutes stretched. She had to do something. Feeling around, her fingers closed around a large
stone. She flung the stone to her right as hard as she could. It landed noisily in the bushes, far enough away, she hoped, to
lead the men astray. Sure enough, Sneg headed off toward the sound. She was congratulating herself when another man
she had not seen before sprang out of the bushes and grabbed her from behind, one hand twisting her arm behind her, the
other over her mouth. Too late, she remembered Sergeant Reudh's admonishment: "Never assume the enemies you can see
are all there are."
"That is a very old trick," the newcomer said. She struggled in his grip without success. "You need to learn better methods
of tracking." He turned her to face him, a menacing glare in his eyes.
"Major Col!" she gasped, General Eurydice's Adjutant, whom she'd seen today. Mikhaila had never been this close to him;
at this proximity, he gave her the impression of a flagellant, as if he was trying to expunge some secret sin. "What are
you?"
"Shut up," Col hissed. He glanced up, in time to see the wagon start to move. He made a hand gesture over her mouth.
Suddenly, she could not talk. "You make more noise than a herd of camels."
Col bound her hands behind her back. Then he marched her through the woods at an angle to the wagon's path. "Just play
along," Col said. "Pretend you're my prisoner, til I accomplish what I set out for." Pretend? I am his prisoner, aren't I?
They emerged from the woods where the wagon was stopped. Sneg grunted when he saw Mikhaila. "Whatcha got there,
Col?" Mikhaila shot a questioning glance toward Col, which earned her a swat. If he's just playing a part, did he have to
hit me so hard?
"Found her following you," replied Col. "Figured she wasn't up to any good." Before Mikhaila could react, he had picked
her up bodily, as if she were an oaken plank.
Sneg tied her feet. "Look at you!" he said, eyeing her in a way that made her feel unclean. "There's a lot of you to go
around!"
She struggled without success as the three men threw her into the wagon beside their other prisoner. She tried to use the
Magic on the ropes binding her wrists but it did not work.
"Orders say no messing with the prisoner we were sent for," said Col.
Feortan protested, "They don't say nothin' about any others we pick up."
"You two need to think more about your mission and less about fun," Col said. "One of you should have been scouting the
woods around you. If I'd not been here, who knows what blondie here would have managed? She'd have made trouble for
you, that's for sure."
"She can't make any trouble for us," Sneg growled. "You think we're just a couple of stupid fools what can't find our own
asses without a map. But just let me tell you, mister high-an'-mighty spy, I fought in the War. I collected thirty Aurigan
scalps for my belt. What did you do?"
"Keep your mind on business," Col snapped. "If these prisoners escape, I will nail both your hides to a wall. I'll be out
there watching your behinds. And I'll be watching you too!"
Col vanished into the bushes, playing the part of the scout again. At least, Mikhaila hoped he was playing a part; her face
burned from where Col hit her. Sneg and Feortan returned to the driver's seat.
Sneg had a square face with a scar that ran down the right side of his face from his hairline to his jaw, just missing his
eye. "High and mighty spy," he repeated, and clicked with his tongue to the horse. Squeaking and rattling, ungreased wood
groaning on iron axles, the wagon set off.
"Somethin's not right about that guy," Sneg muttered. "He betrayed Auriga, his homeland. What's to stop 'im from
betrayin' us, if somebody makes 'im the right offer?" Mikhaila watched and listened, fascinated. Sneg now was not the
only one who wondered about Major Col. Perhaps Sneg became aware of the Cadet's attention, for he nodded his head
sideways toward her and said, "More about this later."
Mikhaila thought about the Raheshis' conversation while she tried to get loose from her bonds. How could Col have fooled
General Eurydice and the rest of the Command? And what part had he played in the General's kidnapping? She had no
answers for these questions; but what she could do was work on freeing herself.
She tried her Magic on the ropes binding her hands. Turn into worms, knives, anything! she commanded. Nothing
happened. Goddess, what do I do? Am I going to be a slave for the rest of my life?
Then a hand grasped her arm. Before she could react, Mikhaila saw the dark brown face hidden under the burlap sack that
held the prisoner. There was a finger held to the lips, a patch over the left eye. General Eurydice! The General spread her
hands in a "stay still" gesture. She produced a knife from the folds of her uniform, and in a single motion took aim and
threw the weapon at Sneg. But the throw was off target, merely wounding the man in the shoulder. With a roar Feortan
was upon the General while Sneg jerked the reins with his good hand, tied them to the wagon's brake, and joined the fray.
Mikhaila closed her knees tight against her chest and brought her tied hands around her legs to the front. Concentrate, she
told herself. Your soul is a conduit for the Magic. In an instant, the rope binding her wrists and ankles transformed back
into the original hemp that had made it, and she was free. She grabbed a handful of nails from a barrel; they turned into
throwing stars. Just as Feortan got his hands around the General's neck, one of the stars struck him in the eye. Mikhaila
seized the dagger from his belt and cut his throat.
Sneg, however, remained very much alive. He dispatched General Eurydice with a powerful punch to the belly that
doubled her over, gasping. Mikhaila's weapons had missed him; before she could grab more, he was on her, kneeling on
her arms, the sheer weight of his body overwhelming her. She was used to being larger than any of her opponents, and
she did not know what to do. She could not get any leverage against him, flat on her back as she was. Almost as bad, he
stank worse than a wet dog, and his breath was no better.
"You little maggot!" he snarled. "Are the Aurigans so desperate for soldiers they send half-trained children to fight us?"
Then a rope appeared around his neck like a noose, and his head jerked back. General Eurydice stood on the small of his
back, pulling. The veins in her neck stood out as if she had ropes of her own. Sneg clasped his neck, trying to free
himself, his eyes bulging his face turning a bright red. "Do something, Cadet!" the General shouted. "I can't hold him like
this forever!"
Even as she spoke, Sneg seemed to realize that he could use other ways to free himself. The muscles in his powerful good
arm knotted like ships' ropes, and he pushed himself off the floor. Eurydice hung on as best she could, but her grip
loosened as Sneg got up. "Use your Magic!" she yelled. "Damn it, Cadet, use the talent you've been given!"
Mikhaila grabbed for more nails, but they did not change. She cast a quick look around, found a piece of iron such as was
used for wagon wheels. At her touch, the iron became a sword. She ran Sneg through, just as he had broken free of
Eurydice's grip.
The General grasped Mikhaila's arm. Blood spattered Eurydice's uniform. Her single golden eye was cold as she regarded
the girl. "What did you think you were doing, leaving your assigned post, Cadet?" she demanded.
Mikhaila hastily saluted and tried to speak, but the spell prevented any sound from emerging. She tried to tell the General
by gesture, pointing to her mouth and making what she hoped Eurydice would recognize as a Magical wave of her hand.
Eurydice's frown grew. "Apparently you've been spelled, is that it?" When Mikhaila gave an eager nod, the General shook
her head. "If you weren't so busy resisting your Magic, you might have learned how to lift that spell. You can lift the spell
on your own. It's a matter of faith. The truth is, Cadet, he has no more power over you than you choose to give him." She
paused a beat, then added, "Of course, you could hunt for the one who placed it on you, and hope he'll lift it. Perhaps if
you beg him on your knees"
Mikhaila felt her face redden with anger; she hoped it did not show in her expression. She knew she must do something,
but had no idea what that was.
Eurydice gave a sigh of exasperation. "Take the reins, Cadet, I need to get on with this mission. Normally, I'd send you
back to camp, but I'd not send my worst enemy alone through those woods. So since you were either mad enough or
foolish enough to follow my captors through those woods on your own, you may be sufficiently mad or foolish, or both,
to come on this mission. Just remember, you are a Cadet in the Grand Army of Auriga. I expect you to behave like one."
The wagon followed the snakelike trail through the dense trees, climbing hills, descending into low spots, always
smothered by darkness. Mikhaila heard tree branches clawing at the wagon like old beggars, and once she thought the
limbs must surely tear the covering apart. But the wagon and its covering survived, allowing Mikhaila to struggle with the
spell that held her silent. Overhead, the occasional star could be glimpsed, briefly, through the roof of leaves. Gradually,
the trees began to thin out, and the trail widened to a shallow dale bottomed by leaves, rocks and dark mud. Mikhaila could
smell the fresh scent of newly tilled land borne on the breeze from the east, and she figured they must be near the end of
the journey. Bloody-handed dawn was a hint on the horizon when Eurydice halted the wagon, near the forest's edge, still
well under its protective eaves. Ahead, the trail left the woods and continued for some paces through a golden
meadowland, climbed a low rise, then disappeared into a shallow saddle between the hills. Beyond the rise, Mikhaila saw
more hills, covered by trees that glowed red, green and orange in the rising light. Eurydice said, "Cadet, I presume you've
been using your time productively." They were her first words to Mikhaila the entire journey.
Mikhaila had kept trying to speak against the powerful spell. She attempted to say, "Yes, General," but all that came out
was a series of croaking noises. Red-faced, she nodded her head and saluted, expecting a rebuke. The General's reaction
surprised her. "It may not seem like much to you, but that is real progress, Cadet, especially against a spell of silence,
which is very powerful. You should be proud of yourself."
Eurydice gestured with her hand and the two women dropped to a crouch under the shelter of the dark forest roof. "My
task is to go out along the trail to where it crosses another in that shallow valley, fulfill my mission, and come back. That's
as much as you need to know. Your task, Cadet, is to remain here with the horse and wagon so that you and I can safely
return to camp. You. Will. Stay. Here." When Mikhaila's face reflected her concern for the General, Eurydice added, "That
is a direct order, Cadet. No heroics. You will wait here for me only until the sun lights that last tree along this path. If that
time arrives and I do not return, you will turn around and go back to camp. Is that clear? If I do not return in time, I had
better not find you still here or you will face severe consequences."
Eurydice returned Mikhaila's salute, then took her gently by the arm. "I let them kidnap me for two reasons, which you
will understand when the mission is over," she said softly. "Stay vigilant."
She moved off silently through the tall grass, little more than a phantom in her leather and furs. Mikhaila kept one eye
towards the sun and the other on her own surroundings. The sunlight crept ever closer to the tree Eurydice had
designated. The shadows shrank. Still the General had not shown. Finally, the first beam of sunlight touched the tree's
roots.
"She's in trouble," she muttered to herself. "And I'm just sitting here, doing nothing!" She was about to follow General
Eurydice's trail with the wagon when she heard approaching hoofbeats. Without a second thought, she slipped quietly into
the back of the wagon, hoping whoever it was wouldn't be interested in a horse and wagon abandoned on the trail like this.
In a moment, she knew who it was. "Well! I follow a General and I find her pet, the little Aurigan rat!" Major Col said.
"Come out when you're commanded!"
One rule of battle Mikhaila knew quite well said, "Make your enemy come to you, on your ground." Well, this was her
ground and she was going to stand it. Col would just have to fight her on her terms. There was a space between the barrel
of nails and a wooden case of something. Just over her head hung several newly killed geese, so fresh they'd not been
plucked yet.
"You must be afraid, rat!" Col shouted. "I'm just one man! What's to fear?"
He wants me to think he's alone. Which means he has someone with him. What else was in the wagon? The iron bar she'd
turned into a sword. As she used her Magic more, could it be possible to shape-change the bar again? Or the nails?
A moment later, an arrow whizzed past her. More followed. Keeping her down while the other attacked directly? She
grabbed a handful of nails. She must be gaining some control of her Magic, because the nails again became throwing stars.
In between flurries of arrows, she touched a coil of rope. It became a black viper. Desperately she flung the snake out the
back of the wagon. She heard the sound of a man stomping and kicking in terror. Now she could take care of his partner.
She plucked a handful of feathers from one of the geese, turning them into darts with needle points. One especially long
feather she transformed into a dagger. Where was Col? She listened. Thought she heard a crunch of gravel on her right
side. She began to inch quietly forward, trying to make as little sound as possible. All the while she listened for the
footsteps. Now he was at the left rear. She guessed that he was considering the risk of jumping into the wagon versus
using the bow. With the silence of a girl born at the edge of a forest, she slithered out of the wagon's front end by using
the wooden seat to pull herself. Col would not expect her to leave the shelter of the wagon to come outside, where he had
the greater advantage.
"We are going to divide you among ourselves, little Aurigan rat," she heard him boast. "By the time we're through, you'll be
a thoroughly trained and compliant slave girl."
Now or never.
She jumped down the right side of the wagon and raced along that side toward the back. Stopped. Peered around the
corner. The accomplice lay on the ground, unmoving. I guess that snake was poisonous, she thought. Pity. Col was
looking into the wagon. He must have realized that she was not there.
She took one of the darts from her belt and threw it at him, catching him on the right side of his face. He yelled.
And with that, her voice returned. She charged, leading with the dagger. Her shoulder took him in the gut, knocking the
wind out of him. But when she tried to follow up, he grabbed her ankle and dragged her down, knocking the dagger out of
her hand. She scrambled to get the dagger, but Col kicked it well beyond her reach. They both stood and faced each other,
like wrestlers.
Suddenly he sprang and knocked her down, hands clutching her around the throat. She tried to bring her strength to bear,
but with Col on top, she could gain no purchase. She struggled, but all the while, lack of air was sapping her strength. I'm
going to end up a slave, she thought. He'll drag me back to Rahesh in chains!
She was losing consciousness. Yet within her lurked a strength she had not realized. I defeated the water-demon and the
prison of thorns! she told herself. I can defeat him too! With barely a moment's consciousness left, she knew what to do.
The Magic filled her in a torrent, and she herself became the weapon, a huge wooly mammoth that rose from the forest
floor, caught Col in her trunk and slammed him to the ground, where he lay gasping for breath and holding his ribs. In an
instant, she returned herself to her own form, found more rope, and bound him hand and foot.
"How could you betray your own country?" she demanded as she wrapped the rope around his ankles.
When he spat, she nearly choked him. "My country fails to see talent when it's right in its midst! Talent? It means how
friendly you are with the precious General Eurydice!"
"Is that so?" came another voice. Mikhaila and Col both turned to see a tall, willowy woman approach. She, too, was dark
like General Eurydice, though slightly paler in complexion. The General stood a pace behind her. The newcomer was clad
in a silvery dress that seemed to change color depending on how she moved. Mikhaila's Magic surged in the presence of
this woman. She realized that she must be one of the Elder Witches, who were the real power behind Auriga and its Army.
She bowed her head, though no one had commanded it.
"I find your opinion most interesting, Major," said the Elder. "Seeing as how it was at General Eurydice's recommendation
you received your first commission!" She held out her fist and opened her fingers in a sprinkling motion, and Col shrank to
the size of a rat. The Elder Witch then plucked him up by the arm and deposited him into a pocket of her gown. She
passed her hand over the pocket and the seam vanished. Then she looked back at the others, a cold expression on her
face. "He can stay there in the dark, wondering what we're going to do to him next. A partial payment for the kindnesses
extended to me by my Raheshi jailers." In that brief instant, Mikhaila saw something dark and mysterious in the Elder's
face, yet a breath later, her face had become open and kindly, as though nothing had ever happened. Mikhaila, though,
looked into the Elder's eyes and caught a glimpse of that same ominous shadow. _Not a woman to cross_, she thought,
and wondered what sort of power could possibly keep her prisoner.
***
Mikhaila thought her life would return to its normal routine of training and Magic. The official explanation for her absence
was that she had been on a special mission for General Eurydice. She thought that would get her out of trouble with
Sergeant Reudh, but the result seemed exactly the opposite. The Sergeant seemed angry he hadn't been made privy to the
"special mission," and went out of his way to be hard on Mikhaila, giving her more and more difficult exercises than the
other Cadets. The fact she could usually solve anything he threw at her only served to infuriate him more. The rest of her
squad, especially Maergte, spoke to her as little as possible; when she would approach a group of them who were talking,
their conversation would cease until she was past.
About two weeks after her adventure, she received a summons to General Eurydice's office. When she entered, both the
General and the rescued Elder, Moirea, awaited her. She started to bow her head and murmur, "Honored Elder," when
Moirea lifted a hand.
"As you were, Cadet Mikhaila," Elder Moirea said. "We thought we should commend you, both for taking the initiative to
try to right a wrong, and for overcoming your fear of your own Magic. Either of those in itself would be a challenge;
dealing with them both is highly commendable. You should be proud of yourself."
Eurydice spoke. "To show you that no good deed goes unpunished, however, we present you a proposition: I have a need
for a personal aide, someone to keep my appointments straight, handle my correspondence, and so on. It must be
someone I can trust absolutely, whose loyalty is without question. She should be willing to tell me when I'm wrong, and
stand up to me now and then for something she strongly believes in." She laid her hands on Mikhaila's shoulders. "I'd like
you to fill that post."
Mikhaila gasped, "Me? But I thought I would just continue with my squad."
Eurydice's mouth formed a moue. "I think you've already found how difficult that will be," she said.
"Things can never be the way they used to be," said Elder Moirea. "Every gain comes with a loss. But your training will
continue, in both tactics of soldiering and in the Magic General Eurydice and I had a rather spirited debate over which of
us should earn your services. In the end, we decided we both would." She smiled at Mikhaila's puzzled expression. "I shall
tutor you in the Magic, and General Eurydice shall take a few hours a week to supplement your military training," she said.
"This is as much for our benefit as yours. If we don't use the skills the Goddess gave us, we could lose them. So,
assuming you accept, your shared time will be spent helping yourself and ourselves to sharpen our skills."
Mikhaila looked out the window, saw squads of Cadets practicing on the drill fields. When she turned back, the General
was nodding sadly. "I'll make you proud of me General," she said, then blushed when she realized that she should have
addressed Elder Moirea before General Eurydice.
Eurydice's mouth twitched. "You've done that already."
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