Magic Study

The sun hovered above the horizon when the cart stopped again. A burning sensation in my fingertips meant the Curare started to wear off. Soon enough cramps, pain, and cold air wracked my body. I shivered and gulped the rest of Esau’s antidote, preparing for another jab. But it didn’t come.

Instead, the woman climbed onto the cart and stood over me. She spread her arms wide. “Welcome to the Void. Or in your case, welcome to hell.”

In the fading light, I saw her gray eyes clearly. The strong features of her face reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t think. My head ached and my mind felt dull. I reached for a thread of power, but found dead air. Nothing.

A smug smile spread on the woman’s lips. “This is one of the few places in Sitia where there is a hole in the blanket of power. No power means no magic.”

“Where are we?” I asked. My voice sounded rough.

“The Daviian Plateau.”

“Who are you?”

All humor dropped from the woman’s face. She appeared to be around thirty years old. Her black hair reached past her waist. She rolled the sleeves up on her sand-colored cloak, revealing the purple animal tattoos that covered her arms.

“You haven’t figured it out? Have you killed that many men?”

“Four men, but I’m not averse to killing a woman.” I gave her a pointed stare.

“You’re really not in the position to be bragging or boasting.” She pulled her knife from a pocket of her cloak.

I thought quick. Of the four, Reyad was the only one I knew well, the others I had killed in self-defense. I didn’t even know their names.

“Still don’t know?” She moved closer to me.

“No.”

Rage flamed in her gray eyes. That expression jolted my memory. Mogkan. The magician that had kidnapped me and tried to rob me of my soul. He was known as Kangom in Sitia.

“Kangom deserved to die,” I said. Valek had made the killing blow, but Irys and I had first caught the magician in a web of magical power. I had not included him in my count, but I admitted being responsible for his death.

Fury twisted the woman’s expression. She drove her knife into my right forearm, and then pulled it out just as fast. Pain exploded up my arm. I screamed.

“Who am I?” she asked.

My arm burned, but I met her gaze. “You’re Kangom’s sister.”

She nodded. “My name’s Alea Daviian.”

That was not one of the clan names.

She understood my confusion and said, “I used to be a Sandseed.” She spat the clan name out. “They’re stuck in the past. We are more powerful than the rest of Sitia, yet the Sandseeds are content to wander the plains, dream and weave stories. My brother had a vision on how we could rule Sitia.”

“But he was helping Brazell to take over Ixia.” I found it hard to follow her logic when my blood poured from the stab wound.

“A first step. Gain control of the northern armies then attack Sitia. But you ruined that, didn’t you?”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Alea sliced her knife along my left arm, drawing a line from my shoulder to my wrist. “You’ll learn to regret that decision before I cut your throat just like you did to my brother.”

Pain coursed through my arms, but a strange annoyance that she had ruined Valek’s special shirt tugged at my mind. Alea raised the knife again, aiming for my face. I thought fast.

“Are you living in the plateau?” I asked.

“Yes. We broke from the Sandseeds and declared a new clan. The Daviians will conquer Sitia. We will no longer have to steal to survive.”

“How?”

“Another member is on a power quest. Once he completes the ritual he will be more powerful than all four Master Magicians together.”

“Did you kill Tula?” I asked. When she squinted in confusion, I added, “Opal’s sister.”

“No. My cousin had that pleasure.”

Alea had a family connection to Ferde. He must be the one on the quest, which led me to the question. Who was Ferde targeting for the final ritual? It could be any girl with some magical abilities and he could be anywhere. And we only had two days to find him.

I pulled against the ropes with the sudden need to move.

Alea smiled in satisfaction. “Not to worry. You won’t be around for the cleansing of Sitia. However, you will be around for a little longer.” She pulled out her needle and jabbed into the cut on my arm. I yelped.

“I don’t like wasting your blood on this wagon. We have a special frame set up so I can collect your red life and make good use of it.” Alea hopped off the cart.

The Curare began to dull the pain in my arms, but full paralysis didn’t grip my body. Esau’s antidote must be working. The presence of Void meant I didn’t have to worry about my mind being open to magical influences. However, being tied to the cart and unarmed, I didn’t know if my body would be in any condition to fight Alea.

Searching for my pack and bow would reveal to her that I could move. So I clamped my teeth down to keep them from chattering and to remind myself to stay still.

I heard a thump and the cart tilted. My feet now pointed toward the ground as my head came up. With this new angle, I could see a wooden frame just a few feet away. Made of thick beams, the frame had manacles and chains hanging from the top with some type of pulley rigged to them. Under the frame lay a metal basin. I guessed that the victim stood in the basin.