Page 20 of The Malice of Moons and Mages (The Broken Bonds of Magic #1)

Twenty

Audra

T hey left the mare where she’d fallen. Audra hoped that carrion would make good use of her flesh so that her death wouldn’t be for nothing. She should have let the argentava have her, then at least one of them would still be alive.

Audra clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. Though it had been hours since she’d rinsed the blood from her body and clothes in a small creek, the thinning mountain air forced the remaining dampness into her skin.

Moon subtly kicked stones from her path and offered her water every so often. He was considerate in small, unexpected ways and perhaps not as sullen as she initially took him for. She’d expected him to chastise her, shame her for her impulsivity and recklessness, but he’d barely spoken. She was grateful for that.

After Moon drew the horse back with a spell, the gelding was still skittish. Audra stroked its neck every so often. Petting its stiff coat seemed to bring them both reassurances.

The horse trailed behind the pair as they walked. It didn’t need to be said that neither of them had any desire to ride together. Nothing good could come of such proximity. Something strange stirred within her every time they touched. Maybe it was the anchoring, but it caused contrasting feelings of vulnerability and empowerment, edging on desire. After observing Moon’s expression for the past few days, she saw it unsettling him too.

Auntie Zin might have an explanation if she didn’t try to kill the Moon mage first. Being a creature of magic, Zin knew things that defied reasoning, but her answers were rarely direct. And where Audra didn’t trust anyone, Zin damn near hated everyone. It had taken a solid year of Traq sleeping in the barn before Zin called him by his name. Her personality was difficult, but her heart was good. Even if it was wrapped in bitterness and fire.

Ferin would smile and hug her tight, smelling of burnt cedar. If the jade worked the way it was supposed to, they’d both be stronger for it.

“The Heitung pass will put us closer to the border,” Moon said.

“It always gets the first snow. It might be covered already. If we follow the Shei road to?—”

“We can make it over the pass. That way will take too long.”

“These mountains are my home, and I know them better than you do,” she said.

He stifled a sigh beneath the shade of his hat. Moon hadn’t slept half as much as Audra, and she saw the effects that travelling in full Starling had on him. That he seemed too tired to argue was revealing. She’d grown accustomed to the occasional tug behind her sternum that left her glazed with momentary fatigue, but he hadn’t pulled on it all day. That he was exhausted and not using her energy was unusual. But she wasn’t foolish enough to mention it.

She looked back at him. “There’s a path at the crest and a small cave about a quarter mile east. It’s big enough for the three of us to rest in. We could let the light fade a bit.”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he tested the thread and took a sip of her energy. “Lead on.”

An hour later Moon eyed the cave’s ancient paintings of flying dragons above the sea before he headed to the deepest recess. Audra settled the horse down to rest and guarded the cave’s entrance. Although they hadn’t seen anyone else on the road, it was wise to keep watch.

Moon curled atop the blanket. Exhaustion rolled from him in waves. Audra nibbled on their remaining jerky while trying, and failing, to keep her gaze anywhere other than him. She bit her lip and studied him.

Moon’s initial insistence on letting the bird have the horse had been correct. Audra should have let go, but she’d panicked. The mage’s sudden compliance and killing the argentava had made him more distant than ever, not necessarily a bad thing.

Audra closed her eyes, searching for the thread she’d caught glimpses of before. It took a few minutes of deep breathing and concentration for it to pulse before her. It was more vivid than the last time she’d seen it. The silvery rope shimmered with smaller yarns and strands of white and gray mixed. Very different from the other?—

She startled, sitting upright. A separate fiber was subtly interwoven with the silver. Vibrating shades of green—like the leaves of summer trees or moss on the forest floor or the jade strung around her neck. It snaked through the yarn, glimmering and pulsing with a rhythm different from the silver. She didn’t think it had been there before.

Audra reached out, running fingers along the green strand. It thrummed down the length of rope and undulated toward the other end.

Her eyes flew open as Moon moaned. A sheen of sweat dappled his brow as he twitched. Nightmare. She wondered what could scare him; he seemed dauntless. Like he’d been tested so often he ardently believed that failure was never an option. She closed her eyes again, but the threads didn’t reappear.

Moon woke less irritable than when he’d lain down, but it wasn’t until they’d trekked back to the path that he spoke. “How’d you know about the cave?”

“I needed hiding spots when I first started out,” she said.

He looked at her quizzically. “Started out?”

“Stealing was how I survived when I first left Auntie’s. Food, clothing, necessities. I’m not proud of it.” She shrugged. “But as I got better, I could be more selective about those I stole from. Eventually I got enough of a reputation that people commissioned me. Having places to hide is an occupational necessity.”

“Why leave your aunt’s?” he asked. “If your brother is still with her, what was your reason?”

Audra slipped on a rock. She landed on one knee and cursed. Sitting down, she pulled up her stained pant leg to reveal a scrape. She hissed at the sting. A trickle of blood ran down her shin.

Moon’s expression went strange, as if deciding something. He slowly raised his eyes to hers.

“Do you know why I pulled you away from the horse last night?” Avoiding the Starling light, he dragged up his pant leg. A collection of fine scars crisscrossed his skin, more than she’d noticed in the Requin’s dim light. Bright blood trailed from his knee, where a scrape that matched hers had appeared. His magic coursed down their thread, jolting her. Her wound stopped bleeding and stitched itself together. His eyes glazed as his own scrape continued to bleed.

“What...?” Audra looked from her knee to his in confusion. When he pulled on the thread, a wave of fatigue swam over her. His wound clotted and healed a moment before his pant leg fell back down.

Her mouth was dry. She remembered when her head swam the first time, when she watched him heal in the brig. “When I cut the bolt out of you?—”

“I drew on your strength. Just as I can also help heal you by giving you some of mine.” He pulled off his glove and offered her his hand. “It’s true that I’ve done terrible things, but I’ve never been a good liar.”

Audra stared at his hand. Their bond was deep magic, life itself, and she hadn’t wanted to believe it. But there was no denying the evidence. “You said we live or die together.”

A few strands of black hair slipped from the hat to frame his face. “And we are strong or weak together.” The strange emotion in his silver eyes beckoned to her.

She slid her hand into his, the chill in her bones vanishing at the flush of warmth. He pulled her to her feet as the threads between them hummed. They stood inches apart, but neither moved away. His palm was strong against hers.

Moon reached up with his other hand, wiping a spot of dried blood from her brow. The pull between them snugged until the gelding snorted. They drew back, gently pulling their hands apart.

She cleared her throat and hustled past him, moving up the path. “We’ll be at Auntie’s in another day. Maybe some Western magic can help us.”

He paused. “I thought all the Western mages were dead.”

Audra did not reply.