Page 39 of The Malice of Moons and Mages (The Broken Bonds of Magic #1)

Thirty-Nine

Xiang

T he remaining Moon party alternated between restless slumber and riding steadily west toward the Heitung Pass while snow fell around them. Their pace was slowed by Jayna’s injuries and Xiang’s miserable leg.

When Selene had changed her mind and told him that Sharine would be waiting for them at the Silence monastery, he’d been grateful. The infection-induced sweat that dappled Jayna’s skin indicated she wouldn’t survive the trip to Uduary. They’d veer north after the border.

The mountain range they crossed wasn’t as steep as the Shei-nam behind them, but the wind bit through their clothes and made their teeth chatter. Despite the Moons beliefs that their biggest advantage was an inherent tolerance for the cold, if the situation turned dire, they’d be in trouble. Though, he reasoned, the spare horses could provide another food source.

Jayna’s complexion was sallow. She barely ate and was dismissive when Xiang encouraged more. Her bitterness festered like the wound that crossed her chest and refused to mend. Not that Xiang’s leg was much better. They needed a healer, and Xiang was prepared to beg for charity at the monastery. If councilor Sharine were there, they wouldn’t refuse him. However, if Lua arrived before them, it would be another matter entirely. His magic would want to finish siphoning whatever was left of Jayna’s.

Though Xiang may have been Selene’s general, his foreign heritage granted him no illusions of loyalty or merit from the Moons. That they’d consistently looked down on the intelligence and character of non-northern tribes had worked frequently to his advantage. And since the centuries old rift between the Song and Silence tribes had never completely sealed, the troublesome antics of the Oji and Oja had taken the focus of both tribes to deal with. That neither house ever overcame the other revealed the juxtaposition involved. But everything was in flux since the Rajav and Raani’s deaths.

The soldiers gossiped about it when they believed Xiang wasn’t listening. Some doubted Lua killed his father. Yet no one dared speak the other half of that statement—if the Oji hadn’t done it, then only one other mage was strong enough to orchestrate it. And no one dared to speak ill of Selene. Lua’s punishments were quick, predictable, even methodical. If Xiang were being honest, the Oji was unlikely to make rash decisions that would spiral the country into chaos.

Selene tortured families first, killing innocent children and mothers of offenders before ripping the eyes from their skulls. They took after their father in very different ways.

No matter. Selene had Bolin, and Xiang was at her mercy for it. He didn’t care about the tribes or their wars. He only cared about keeping Bolin safe.

A liger cried in the distance. They’d passed occasional paw prints, freshly eaten carcasses, and other signs, but the size of their party should dissuade the cats’ attention. The soldiers watched in shifts to protect the horses, just in case. They built three fires in triangulation and kept the horses between them, while the soldiers and mage ate their tough jerky.

“How far to the border?” Jayna’s eyes were half open. A green-tinted feverish sheen dotted her brow in the firelight. He’d hoped that sitting beneath the moons might bolster her, but the sky was clouded. Three soldiers had begun to pray to Song for her .

“Not far. After the pass, we’ll drop in elevation. It will be easier then.”

She squeezed her eyes closed. “And the monastery?”

“Five days, if we’re lucky.”

“Luck hasn’t been with us so far. No reason to think it’ll start now.”

“We’re alive. If that isn’t luck, I don’t know what is. We could’ve been dust on the floor like Nori.”

She chewed the food slowly before murmuring, “I wouldn’t have wished him such an ending.”

“Same as Rayan, Elicia, Brav, and all the others the Oji has destroyed along the way. That he allowed us to live is perplexing.” Xiang ran a hand over his head, thankful he’d neglected shaving it to the scalp when they’d been in warmer temperatures.

“What can we hope for now?” Her voice was heavy. “We can’t win. Even if Nori and I had acted together, we wouldn’t have been able to defeat him. It should have taken months to recover from Dain, even with a new anchor.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

The Moon Ojis were bonded to siblings. A distant memory of childish fables told by Xiang’s Western grandfather around festival campfires pulled at him. But it slipped like water through cracked pottery. There was no point in mentioning Western tales to Moon tribes. They were never interested in history other than their own.

The horses stamped nervously, ears twitching as the liger called again. The soldiers turned away from the fires, swords drawn. Xiang did the same, leaning on his crutch and scanning the darkness between the trees.

The next roar cut off sharply. Then only the quiet of collectively held breath amidst the falling snow as the party waited for something to happen.

“Xiang.” Jayna pointed a finger past the fire, back in the direction they’d come from. Her vision in the darkness far exceeded his own. A small flicker of silver lit her fingertips.

“How many?” he asked.

“At least five. They’re in white. One hood up.”

Starlings with one mage. Given that it was nighttime and, depending on their level, they could still take them. But Jayna wouldn’t survive a battle. Xiang sheathed his sword. They would’ve attacked already if they’d wanted to, but he didn’t order the soldiers to stand down.

“Show yourselves. What do you want?” Xiang demanded.

“A meeting,” a woman said, her deep voice crisp in the thin air.

Jayna rose on shaky legs, her hand still extended forward as her lips moved.

“There’s no point in casting,” the woman said. “Our mages out number you three to one.”

Xiang rested a hand on Jayna’s shoulder. She hesitated, her spell blooming brighter until a crack of gold beside them stripped a blade from a man’s arm, taking his skin with it. He screamed as a dozen Starling soldiers emerged and surrounded them.

A tall, younger mage moved forward. White robe pulled over his tanned features, skin a similar pallor to Xiang’s own: a Westerner in Starling robes. An older male mage stood a third of the way around. Beneath the woman’s hood were sharp hazel eyes set in a dark complexion. The white of her hair nearly blended in with her garments.

“We don’t want to hurt you but will if we must,” she said.

Xiang counted blades. There were more soldiers elsewhere, probably tending their horses. Cooperation might ensure survival, and he had no desire to witness the rest of his party slaughtered.

“I suppose you saw our fires and wished to join us,” he said casually, as if they were not under threat.

Her lips twitched with amusement. “Just as you say. May we?”

The Starlings ushered the Moons toward the fires as the woman gestured for Xiang and Jayna to resume their seats. The younger mage stood guard as the older one offered to tend to the wounded soldier.

“How long have you been following us?” Jayna asked.

The woman studied her, frowning. “We found your trail at the ruins, followed the scent of your wound the whole way here.”

Jayna snorted. “Bad luck.”

The woman stooped beside Jayna. “May I see it?”

Jayna protested, but Xiang urged her cooperation, nodding to their remaining group. She pulled the folds of fabric back to reveal the bloody linen bandages beneath. The mages’ looks soured in unison .

“I’m Wren, Septra. That’s Durin, Quinta, and Traq, Tresa.” Her discerning gaze traced the wound. “How are you still alive? This reeks of strong magic.” She paused in realization. Her eyes widening in the firelight. “You were siphoned.”

“He didn’t finish the job, obviously.” Jayna tugged the clothes back over her chest.

“You can tell that much?” Xiang asked.

Wren winked. “It’s a talent. The siphon was only a guess.” She settled beside them on the ground. “We can help with the wounds in exchange for some information.”

“I won’t accept the aid of a Starling.”

“Jayna,” Xiang said.

“Not after everything they’ve done.” She gestured to the crying soldier. “And continue to do.”

Wren shrugged. “Suit yourself. But we’ll still need to know who killed a village of fishers along the coast two weeks ago.”

Xiang studied the mage without reaction while Jayna wisely kept her eyes on the fire and shivered. Her fever was worsening. That they’d tracked their party and not Lua could be beneficial. “You’re looking for the Moon tribe’s most wanted criminal. He’s done worse to our own people.”

“So you tracked him from the coast to Oxton, then to the ruins?”

“Yes,” he lied. He motioned to his leg then at Jayna. “And confronted him. You can see how that turned out.”

“Was anyone with him?” Traq asked from behind them. Wren’s eyes narrowed.

“A young woman, not one of ours.” Xiang said.

“What did she look like?”

“Tresa, enough,” Wren warned. “Tell us what happened.”

Jayna’s eyes rolled back as the small bit of spell she’d wove took its toll. She jerked twice before slumping sideways. Xiang caught her before she hit the frozen ground.

“Can you help her?” Xiang asked.

Wren scowled. “You’d ask for her aid when she’s unable to refuse, after she’s already made herself clear?”

“I made a promise that she’d return unharmed. Please. ”

The mages exchanged a look before settling something unspoken between them.

“I’ll do it,” Durin said. “But you be damn sure she knows it was at your behest.”

“Anyone forces Moon magic on me without consent, I’d kill them for it,” Wren said.

Xiang nodded. Jayna might want to kill him, but he’d deal with that later. In time, he hoped she’d understand.