Page 53 of The Dark Mage

“We can’t stay here, Fael,” Esrin replied sharply. “What if there are more brigands? My power is only a thread after what Ren’wyn did to it. I don’t know when I’ll be strong enough to fight a gain.”

“What Ren’wyn did was save our asses,” Fael snapped. “Don’t act like it wasn’t the most incredible thing you’ve ever seen. Don’t act like it wasn’t unheard of—our powers responding to her, intertwining with hers.”

“Incredible? You’re sick, you know that?” Esrin’s voice wavered between fear and anger. “She used to be kind and gentle, and now—because of you—she’s a killer. You’ve destroyed her.”

Fael’s steps came quick and quiet, followed by the sound of a sharp intake of br eath.

“Don’t you ever call her that,” Fael growled, his voice trembling with fury.

“She is still kind and gentle, but she’s strong too.

I won’t take credit for her courage—she found that herself.

And I don’t know if she’s going to wake up,” he admitted, his voice strangled.

“I won’t let you insult her unconscious form out of your own insecu rity. ”

The rough shuffle of boots reached her ears. Deciding her thirst was worth interrupting their fight, Ren’wyn croaked, “ Fael?”

The argument stopped abruptly, and warm hands touched her face before Fael’s worried expression hovered above her.

“I’m thirsty,” she whispered. Her throat felt as though she had swallowed broken g lass.

Fael grabbed a waterskin and helped her take small sips.

The water burned her cracked throat, but the relief was worth the discomfort.

His brows knitted with concern as she drank.

Ren’wyn brushed her fingers along his furrowed brow, and he caught her hand, kissing and nuzzling her palm.

Having softened his expression, she nestled her head into his lap, her body finally relaxing as he rested a protective hand on her shou lder.

Esrin eventually conceded the futility of moving the group. He and Fael took turns patrolling while the three women slept through the n ight.

Just before dawn, Sorya stirred awake, followed by Lia.

Ren’wyn roused as well, her body less stiff and her magic faintly fluttering in her soul—a sign the Void was beginning to mend her.

Snagging her pack, she crawled to Lia and Sorya, who looked pale and fragile, as though death hovered over them.

Lia trembled under her blanket, while Sorya stared with vacant eyes. Ren’wyn gave Esrin a pointed look, and he left the tent without argument. She turned to the two w omen.

“They didn’t rape me,” Sorya said preemptively, her voice hoarse. “They beat me and drugge d me.”

Ren’wyn handed her the waterskin, noting the way Sorya cradled her head. “Any idea what they gave you? I might be able to counterac t it.”

Sorya shook her head we akly.

Ren’wyn called outside. “Esrin, start a fire and put water on to boil.”

Esrin poked his head back in, clearly ready to refuse, but her icy expression froze the words on his lips. Pale-faced, he exited and set to work, shuffling and muttering in the backgr ound.

Ren’wyn dug through her pack, selecting herbs for tea: lavender and chamomile for calm, willow bark for pain. Her hands paused over the herbs as she glanced at Lia, who remained curled up, trembling. Ren’wyn crawled closer and placed a gentle hand on her shou lder.

“Lia, I need to know,” she asked softly. Of all the things she had done here, this might be the one to break her. “Did the men rape you?”

Lia curled tighter, a sob escaping her lips.

Ren’wyn’s fists clenched. She hadn’t made the brigands suffer enough. They had taken Lia’s brother and violated her. Ren’wyn took a deep breath to control her sudden nausea, forcing herself to f ocus.

Standing on shaky legs, she stepped out of the tent. Esrin’s expression turned stony, but she cut him off before he could s peak.

“They raped Lia, and I need cohosh for an emergency contraceptive,” she said, her voice unwavering. Esrin’s features tight ened.

“Don’t go in the tent, and don’t touch Lia,” she continued. “Get the water boiling. I’ll be back soon—I saw the right habitat on our way here.”

Ren’wyn found the cohosh quickly, gathering extra in case Lia vomited the first dose. Returning to camp, she saw Fael tending the fire. Placing a swift kiss on his forehead, she strode into the tent.

The stench of fear and pain hit her like a wall. Lia whimpered and shrank back, her trembling worsening while Sorya startled before her body curled in ward.

Ren’wyn swallowed a sob and steeled herself. She would care for them. She would help them heal.

After settling the women with quiet words of reassurance, Ren’wyn poured the boiling water—delivered by Fael—over the contraceptive mixture.

Then she placed her herbs for tea into a pot with the remaining water.

A sweet, healing scent drifted over the camp, at odds with the lingering stench of decay, mud, and blood.

She filled two cups with tea and cooled the contraceptive mixture before pouring it into a small glass vial.

“Help me sit her up,” Ren’wyn said to Sorya.

To Lia, she explained, “This is a contraceptive tonic meant to prevent pregnancy. It tastes awful, and many women experience intense stomach pain and nausea after drinking it. You might bleed, like during your period. Likely, the rest of today and most of tomorrow will be miserable with the na usea.”

Lia’s eyes cleared with understanding, and she swallowed the tonic in one gulp. She gagged but kept it down, then gratefully accepted the mug of tea.

After lunch, Ren’wyn coaxed the women to the stream.

They watched as she drew a veil of darkness to shield them while they bathed.

By the time they finished, Ren’wyn’s arms and will shook violently, and the shadows crept away.

She handed Lia her second Luremalan outfit, which dwarfed the petite woman.

For Sorya, who was too tall for Ren’wyn’s clothes, Esrin produced a clean shirt and p ants.

Sorya allowed Ren’wyn to poultice the burns where the brigands had branded her thighs and to clean and dress her numerous cuts and bruises. Lia, however, refused any treatment, remaining silent and withd rawn.

Back at camp, Ren’wyn tossed the women’s old dresses into the fire, dashing her own tears from her cheeks.

Lia curled up where she sat, and Sorya wrapped a fiercely protective arm around her, throwing a warning glance at both men.

Both women looked exhausted, but Esrin and Fael had emptied and hitched their recovered cart to Patina and Fael’s horse, Munic, and were ready to move.

“I’m sorry, but we have to go,” Fael said across the fire, his face tight with urgency and re gret.

Ren’wyn agreed—they couldn’t stay in this horrible place.

Sorya and Ren’wyn gently loaded Lia into the cart, covering her with Ren’wyn’s blanket.

Fael took the first shift driving while Esrin rode a brigand horse, trailing the others.

At the next town, they planned to sell the stolen horses to the nearest st able.

The next two days dragged by. Lia slept through most of them but woke screaming in terror at night.

Esrin and Fael kept their distance, leaving Sorya and Ren’wyn to comfort her.

The night wakings drained them all, but no one complained.

They bore the burden for their friend in every way they c ould.

Sorya healed steadily, though the worst of her burns would leave scars. Ren’wyn took comfort in her strength as the older woman gritted her teeth through each application of s alve.

On the third morning, they entered Lipo, where Leta found them within an hour. Her eyes brimmed with tears, relief giving way to grief when she saw the women’s state and noticed Alen’s absence. Pressing a fisted hand to her chest, Leta locked eyes with Fael, who mirrored the ges ture.

“A gesture of solidarity and thanks,” he explained to Ren’wyn as they sat together in the cart. “Among the imperial g uard.”

Finally reaching home, Ren’wyn helped Lia into her tent while Fael and Esrin broke the news to Irik. His shouts sent birds fleeing from the trees, but the others held him back from Lia, explaining that she needed space to work through her tr auma.

Sorya, meanwhile, found solace in her sister’s embrace, the two disappearing into their tent with tear-streaked f aces.

Ren’wyn watched it all with bone-deep weariness.

The world felt heavy as her power and body struggled to heal.

She wouldn’t admit how much caring for Lia and Sorya had taken from her; she would have given almost anything for them.

Even more frustrating was the start of her period today, which would drag her into two days of relative incapa city.

When she entered her tent, Fael’s fire followed her, and his warm arms curved around her waist. They hadn’t spent any time together since the brigands.

At night, Fael had kept to his own blanket.

Even though it made Ren’wyn lonely, she was proud that he considered the effect sharing a bedroll might have on the other w omen.

Now, he led her into the tent—their tent. They had shared it only once before being separated. She looked into his eyes as he kept an arm tight around her waist and a hand firm on her hip.

“You look like you’re going to pass out,” he said and brushed his lips over her forehead. “Promise me you’ll rest.”

She sat heavily on the cot. “No promises necessary, Fael—I’m asleep on my feet. Where are you g oing?”

“I’m taking Irik for a ride, and then we’re going to spar. He needs to expel some rage and tire himself out so he can grieve prop erly.”

“You’re a good person,” she said, reaching out to squeeze his hand.

Fael shrugged. “So are you, giving of yourself until you almost broke, both during our fight and afterward. We’re lucky to have you. Rest now, dear one.”

She did.