Page 3 of The Malice of Moons and Mages (The Broken Bonds of Magic #1)

Three

Audra

G et him up!” Chon cried. He leaned over the Requin ’ s bow as rain dripped from his hooked nose, studying the figure floating in the water. His voice was barely audible over the gusting wind and crashing waves.

The sudden storm had dragged the boat east, past the furthest charted islands, where it balanced precariously at the edge of safe waters. Another few miles and they would never be seen again. Nothing returned from the edge of the world. Out there lay only hungry mouths waiting to swallow vessels whole.

The boat lurched dangerously. The crew yelled with concerns that the water was too rough, the ship’s rocking too violent to warrant saving a stray. And Munk’s whispers of a cursed storm had set everyone on edge.

“Where’s the boy?” Chon said before spying Audra holding tight to the mast. “Time to earn your keep, Alver.”

Audra’s grip slipped on the slick wood. Her stomach churned a moment before she retched on the deck for a third time. The vomit mixed with the water and slid toward Toman’s approaching feet. Pleading would be useless, and she had yet to prove her worth.

The only positive was that they still believed her to be a boy. The rags she’d stolen and the short, cropped hair had done its job. But it was just a matter of time until someone in the crew decided boys had other uses. Toman was a beast of a man, and his looks already lingered too long. The less reason he had to put hands on her, the better.

When Toman reached for her, she lunged sideways, avoiding his grasp. “Piss off. I’m going.”

Chon tied the rope around her waist as a white-capped wave soared high, momentarily blocking the view of the body.

“What if he’s already dead?” Audra asked. The boat tilted again, bringing her stomach to her throat as her knuckles blanched upon the rail.

“Then we pick through the pockets and toss them back to the sea.” He gripped her shoulder. “Might be someone important, worth a reward.”

Her brown eyes met Chon’s. “And if I can’t hold him?”

He shrugged. “Then we’ll have one less stowaway to feed.” With that, he hoisted her over the edge into the rocking sea.

She broke the surface, choking on frigid salt water as another wave crashed on her head. Audra flailed for a moment before well-practiced survival instinct took over. There was a shout from above as the rope around her waist pulled taut. She fixed her gaze on the surrounding water.

A glimpse of pale skin caught her eye when the sea dipped. With his black hair and robes, it was a miracle the lookout had spied him at all. And another miracle that Chon had chosen to save him. Audra swam toward the figure. The next wave nearly propelled him past her, but she grabbed a floating sleeve and held on. Another wave brought him crashing into her. She secured her arms around him, her skin stinging at the sudden connection.

The man moaned. His fingers clenched the thin fabric of her shirt, changing the sting to a tingle that made her shiver. His long black hair waved atop the water’s surface, wrapping around her shoulders along with his lean arms. His silver eyes widened in panic. Nails dug into her shoulders and neck. The bastard would drown them both. Audra struggled, trying to break free, but he went wild. She cursed, brought one arm up to break his grip, but he was too strong.

“I’m trying to save you!” she yelled. He pressed her down, and she inhaled a mouthful of water. Lightning cracked the sky, illuminating his terrified features.

Audra cursed again while the men on the Requin shouted unhelpful advice. She bit his wrist hard, hoping a dash of pain would sharpen his senses. His eyes narrowed, but the panic continued.

Why was nothing ever easy? Audra punched his stomach. Her weak strike was enough to startle him. His grip eased. When her knee connected to his groin, he pushed her away. His flailing caused him to bob beneath the water’s surface. Audra balled up her fist, drawing as much strength as she could before knocking his head sideways. Finally, he stopped struggling.

She hauled him backward toward the ship, wrapping the slack of the rope twice around his torso before raising an arm to let the crew know they were ready.

“You better be worth it,” Audra muttered as his head found purchase on her shoulder.

Another streak of lightning skittered across the clouds. He groaned.

The rope jerked them upward. Suspended in the air alongside the rocking boat, a sliver of Song’s light broke through the storm clouds and shone upon them. Cold, silver eyes opened and focused on her. His arms encircled her. She considered what another punch might do, but his hands warmed her back. The heat moved through her limbs and settled in her chest. He closed his eyes, mumbling unfamiliar words that were lost in the wind. She tried to pull away, but he clung to her even as the crew hauled them over the ship’s rail.

Audra dropped to the deck on top of him, gasping like a fish. She lay there for long minutes before wrestling him onto his side as the crew looked on. He writhed, coughing sea water, his hair and sodden ebony robes spread around him. That much fabric should have dragged him to the ocean floor. This bastard’s luck bordered on insult.

Chon stood over them with a cautious expression. He spread his arms wide to keep the crew away then nudged the man with his boot. The man coughed up another round of water then lay still. Chon rubbed the silk robes between his fingers, avoiding touching the man directly. He chewed his lower lip, brows worried together.

“Man your posts,” he ordered before backing slowly away.

Another wave spilled over the bow; water slid across the deck as men held on to whatever they could find. Chon scowled, coming to some decision, before addressing Audra. “Put him in the drunk tank.”

“Me? But ...” Her arms burned, and her lungs were tight, like she’d inhaled half the sea. Still, the last thing she wanted was to be delegated to the role of caregiver.

“You’d rather work the ropes?” Chon asked. The other men scurried about the ship. Several disappeared below to work the rowers.

She struggled to her feet, pulling the wet fabric of her shirt away from her skin. Chon’s eyes narrowed. Audra slouched too late. He knew.

Chon coughed and looked away. “There are spare clothes in the infirmary. Get some dry clothes on him. And yourself.” He glanced at the clouds above. The rain was lighter than it had been moments ago. “We’ll be past the storm soon, then we can figure out what to do with him.” His eyes slid down her body. “With you both.”

Audra pulled the man onto feet that tried to plant. She barely came up to his armpit. Dragging him over her back, they stumbled across the deck and down the small ramp. A purple bruise bloomed around the eye she’d struck. Entering a small door, she dumped him on the filthy blanket leftover from Toman’s last alcohol induced rampage. There was still a spot of something on the fabric.

The spare clothing in the infirmary was piled in a small chest atop a couple of rusted swords. Yanking the wet shirt over her head, she donned a fresh undershirt and a dark green top. The only pants that wouldn’t fall over her hips at a quick pace were striped, but they’d have to do. She grabbed a set of clothing that looked like they’d fit the stranger, then paused. It was a rare opportunity that presented itself. She’d been under close scrutiny since they’d found her.

Below the clothing and rusted swords were a few smaller knives, sheathed. One fit her hand perfectly. Its handle was dull, but the blade was sharp. She secured it in her pocket in case Toman’s gaze turned to more than casual interest. She’d have to come back for anything else when they were closer to Oxton.

The man lay exactly as she’d left him. Black hair strewn around a pale, sickly face. His layers of silk were an expensive rarity no matter your class. Chon had been right to grab him. Someone might pay a good price for this man. His outer robe was obsidian black, but the inside was speckled with silver, like the night sky. Thirteen stars were stitched in silver thread into the black interior.

Audra bit her lip. The number of stars showed a mage’s ability, but she’d always heard that ten was the upper limit. Though that rule may have only applied to the Starling tribe. Her mother told her that the Western mages never needed such a system.

The Moons hadn’t ventured this far south since the assault on Oxton seventeen years ago and hadn’t crossed the northern border for fifteen years. Not since they’d demolished hers and several other villages and the last western monastery hold out, killing the last of the Western mages in the process. Their sudden retreat had indicated that they’d either finally been satisfied with the slaughter or deemed it too costly to fight when the Starlings intervened.

The crumbling Western government had desperately trusted the Starling’s offer of aid in exchange for crops and servitude. No one could have predicted the ongoing destruction that was still occurring. The Starlings rounded up every westerner with a hint of magic and dragged them into the southern sands. The ultimate example, Zin had said, to never hand your fate over to another.

Audra studied the stitching. Thirteen stars was unprecedented. How had someone so powerful ended up floating in the Empyrean? This wasn’t good.

She dropped the robe in the corner where it landed open. Blood darkened the space around the stars, turning three a pinkish hue. She rolled him over, running a hand over his shirts. Her palm came back streaked red.

Not good at all.

Chon could figure this out. She had no desire to invest in an injured Moon mage. They could all end up at the bottom of the sea for all she cared. Audra backed toward the door. This was absolutely not her problem.

The man moaned, limbs flexing into a fetal position as something in her chest contracted and took her resolve with it. She hesitated as he groaned again. There was pleading in his cry.

“Shit,” she hissed. “Fine.”

She drew the dagger and knelt beside him, cutting through one layer of fabric at a time. Dozens of silvery scars and fresh wounds crisscrossed his lean muscles. Blood pulsed from a deep triangular shaped gouge slightly left of his spine. The lines were unusually sharp. He whimpered as a puff of sweet-scented violet smoke eased out. It tugged at a memory, but Audra waved it away before leaning closer to examine it.

Buried deep in his muscle, an object shone brightly. Audra gasped as it burrowed deeper, and the mage grimaced pitifully.

“Get it out,” he mumbled.

She shook her head. “I’m not ...” But her hands moved toward him before she could stop them. Her dagger cut into his flesh, striking something hard that squirmed at the attack. Nausea churned her gut, but there was nothing left to vomit. The storm and Munk’s foul cooking had seen to that.

He hissed as she moved the blade to the side. The point of the dagger caught on the object. She angled further, cutting deeper, and pressed the blade underneath it. As she pried it upward, more violet smoke spewed out. A squeal pierced her ears.

A small gold object popped to the surface, perfectly matching the shape of the wound. The barbs that jutted from its sides sliced her fingers as she pried it out and tossed it aside. It clattered along the boards, spewing purple haze and emitting a high-pitched whine.

The man sighed in relief. His bleeding ebbed. Beneath her gaze, the wound slowly stitched itself together.

A wave of exhaustion overwhelmed her, and she leaned back against the wall. She slid the blade back into its sheath. Running a bloody hand through her jagged hair, she took a deep breath against the steady pulse thrumming inside her skull.

“I should have stayed on Callaway,” Audra said.