Page 32 of The Malice of Moons and Mages (The Broken Bonds of Magic #1)

Thirty-Two

Traq

D ust kicked into Traq’s face from passing soldiers as he pried the rock from his horse’s hoof. With the steep terrain, the risk of stumbles and hoof injuries increased as everyone fatigued in the higher elevation. The brisk pace was wearing on the horses.

Wren picked up the other hints of magic first, more subtle than the ones in Oxton. Durin confirmed it, even Traq could taste it here and there. The hope was one trail would lead to the other.

Traq considered visiting Zin to see if Audra had delivered the jade. But Zin didn’t like strangers, and she probably didn’t want to see him anyway. He was grateful for the years she’d sheltered and fed him, but they’d never had a strong relationship. In truth, she’d barely tolerated him. When he said he was enlisting, she told him never to return.

“What’s wrong?”

Wren’s voice plucked him back to the side of the road as a small stone flicked from the hoof. She stood so near he caught the scents of sandalwood in her clothing. The soldiers gossiped; even Durin gave them curious glances. Relationships between mages weren’t uncommon, though discouraged. Knowing this, Wren’s flirtatious behavior was opposed to both of their ambitions. Add in the fact that Wren was a well-respected mage and Traq was a dirty Westerner, and it gave more kindling to the rumor fire. But Traq would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted.

“We should camp soon. It gets steeper in another couple of miles,” he said.

“Something’s on your mind.”

He shrugged. “Nothing I care to share.” A couple of soldiers straggled behind them, waiting patiently for the two mages to continue.

“Being here must bring up memories. Coming back home is never easy,” she said.

He didn’t respond. Wren was still trying to determine if he’d protect Audra or follow orders if made to choose—a question he’d asked himself since Oxton.

Traq climbed into the saddle and looked down at her. The setting light warmed her face, softening the edges of her cheeks, casting an amber hue down her long, pale braid. There was something unattainable about her. It was best for Traq to not reach too high, but their proximity had him considering the softness of her skin a bit too often lately. He nudged his horse into a trot to create distance.

Wren didn’t speak to him again until they were seated near each other beside one of the fires. “About your friend...”

Traq chewed a large bite of meat slowly and stared at the flames dancing atop the logs.

“Was she from here too?” Wren scooted closer.

“Pangol.”

“Near the old monastery?” she asked. “One of the last villages to fall, I think.”

He nodded. Though Stonetown had been rebuilt, there weren’t enough survivors of either Pangol or his village to manage the task, so they remained abandoned.

Her brows creased. “Would she go there? Is there anything left of it?”

Traq took another bite before responding. This might be a way to avoid Zin’s, which is where Audra probably was. She hadn’t visited Pangol in a long time. There would be no advantage to it.

“Where else would they go?” he asked. “Or maybe to the monastery. They’ll need shelter as the temperatures drop, and it’s on the way to the border.”

Wren assessed him coolly. “You meant it when you said that duty came first.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “If you mislead us, I’ll have to report you. Or you’ll have to convince me not to.”

He squirmed at the proposition. “Do you still have the trail?”

“It’s dim but, yes. Though the second trail has gotten stronger.”

“Durin has it too?”

The older man sat beneath blankets at the most distant fire. His profile shadowed as he spoke animatedly to an enrapt Liasa.

“I think so. Though he’d likely say anything to return home sooner rather than later. Can’t say I blame him.” She smiled wistfully. “Island life doesn’t sound too bad right now.”

Traq cast a sideways glance at him with a pang of envy. Liasa met his gaze with a small nod, one Westerner to another.