She looked down at Bo. He gave out a light whimper when she moved his arm out of the way of the wound. She could see through his kneecap.
Her stomach turned at the sight of it. Would he ever be able to walk again? She’d heard of healers who’d regrown whole limbs, but those had just been stories. This kind of damage seemed beyond what anyone could heal, no matter their skill.
She remembered rubbing her fingers together frantically at the Battle of Ned’s Creek and hoping and praying for the right combination of sorcery to bring down those men.
And it had worked. She’d killed thousands with a gesture.
Like from the stories.
Bo said that healers were very rare. That they took great skill. But maybe… maybe she could be something other than a killer.
Nila bit her lip and wiggled her thumb. The aether. That’s what she needed. She reached out for the Else.
“What the bloody pit do you think you’re doing?” Bo batted her outstretched hand weakly to one side. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“I felt you reaching out for it. Are you mad? I… oh, pit, this hurts. I don’t know what’s in your head.”
“I thought that maybe I could just…” She shrugged.
“You could just heal me? You’re bloody mad, woman, and I’ll have no talk of that. Remember that the aether is a refined matter that creates and breaks bonds. You’re just as likely to make every particle of my body explode as you are to heal me.” Bo grimaced and let out a long whimper. “Now, promise me you won’t ever try to experiment like that on me. Ever.”
“I promise,” Nila said, feeling like a scolded schoolgirl.
“Good.” Bo let his head fall against the mud.
The crew with the horses moved off, leaving the final lance sticking from the ground, now that Bo was fully free. Three men came out of the night bearing torches. Two were the soldiers who had helped dig Bo out, and the third was a doctor.
“The engineers are coming now,” one of the soldiers said.
“Never mind the engineers,” Nila told him. “Just help him.”
“We need to move him out of this,” the doctor said. “Get him to a clean tent and bring me hot and cold water and my instruments.”
The soldiers lifted Bo onto a canvas stretcher. Nila walked beside him, holding him by the hand as they moved out of the blasted battlefield. They were nearly out of the swath of destruction when Field Marshal Tamas emerged from the darkness.
“Bo, are you all right?”
Bo eyed Tamas as a man would eye a meal after having just thrown up. His face was scrunched in pain, but his eyes were clear. “I’ve had better days.”
“They’ve taken Ka-poel. And her package.”
“Ah, pit,” Bo sighed.
Nila frowned. She didn’t know what that meant, but what little color Bo had left in his cheeks was gone.
Tamas said, “We’re going back to war. Ipille called us to a truce and then blindsided us. I’ve had runners just now that our allies are ahead of schedule. The Seventh and the Ninth will be here soon and the Deliv are just behind them. We’re marching south first thing in the morning and we’re going to throw the Kez from our borders. I mean to destroy Ipille fully for this treachery.”
“Sounds good. And Taniel?”
“He wants to – he must go after Ka-poel. If they know what she’s carrying, we’re all dead men.”
“Bo, what is he talking about?” Nila asked.
Tamas looked at her. His body sagged from exhaustion and his face was creased with lines of worry and fear. “Not something to discuss in the open, my dear.”
Nila seethed. What did he mean by that? Did he not trust her? Did he not trust Bo? She felt Bo’s hand on her arm and he whispered, “I’ll tell you later.” He let out a hiss and suddenly writhed in her arms.
“I’ll give you mala for the pain,” the doctor said, searching his bag.
“Do you see this?” Bo thrust a finger at his charred leg. “I’m not smoking anything!”
“You’re in shock.”
“I’m cooking, that’s what I am. Get me whiskey. Lots of it.”
The doctor looked to Nila as if for some kind of confirmation. Not knowing what else to do, she nodded.
“The Deliv healers will be here within a couple of days,” Tamas said. His face was impassive.
“I don’t think he should wait that long.”
“Get a carriage,” Tamas snapped to one of his men. “We’ll send him to them.”
“I’m going with him,” Nila said.
Bo gave Tamas a sudden, wolfish grin. “Get me patched up and me and Tan will go after the savage.”
“You’re going to the Deliv army,” Tamas said sternly. “Taniel has already left. Olem is gathering a squad to send after him. And you, my dear” – he turned his eye toward Nila – “you’re staying here.”
“What do you mean? I’m not leaving Bo alone.”
“He’s a grown man.” Nila didn’t like the dangerous glint in Tamas’s eye. “You,” he continued, “I’m going to unleash on the Kez.”
Chapter 23
Taniel rode alone into the night.
He urged his mount as hard as he dared – the horse would have to carry him for as long as it took to catch up with Ka-poel’s captors and he couldn’t risk riding it into the ground. He stopped frequently for water and once to give the horse long enough to eat. The eastern sky began to grow from black to blue, heralding the morning.
He carried two rifles, four powder horns, three pistols, and enough provisions for two weeks.
The Kez had a seven-hour head start on him, taking the road northwest toward the Black Tar Forest. It was a curious direction, as their main force was to the south, but Taniel thought that they would follow the road into the forest and then turn south, thus avoiding the bulk of Tamas’s army that camped on the plain.
Catching them wouldn’t be easy. They had planned for this, after all – a dash into the camp with less than two hundred grenadiers but four Privileged, torching everything in their way until they reached Ka-poel and then immediately retreating. They would have a nearby camp, including spare horses and maybe even more men.
The chain of command left in charge of the Adran forces was still in some confusion after Hilanska’s betrayal, and they had not mounted an immediate expedition. Nor should they have. Without powder mages their men would have been torn apart.
And now the Kez would be fleeing with the fear of god in them, knowing that Field Marshal Tamas and his mages would be on their heels.
The sky grew light as Taniel continued on, sleep held at bay with the low buzz of a distant powder trance. The terrain grew more jagged as he neared the mountains, the air warmer as dawn approached, and he worried for his weary horse. He stopped at a farm just off the main road, where a sleepy farmer confirmed that he’d heard a large company of men on horseback pass in the middle of the night.
Despite the reassurance he was on their trail, Taniel began to worry more with every mile. Was Ka-poel even still alive? If they knew about her and about Kresimir, why wouldn’t they have killed her outright? How did they know about her? What was he going to do once he caught up with them?
The doubt began to work its way deep and to spread. There were too many of them. Even after the damage Bo did to their party – it was doubtless a surprise for them to find a Privileged in the Adran camp – they still had at least three Privileged and fifty men. One Privileged and a squad or two, Taniel could handle. Pit, he could take two Privileged. But three was too many.
It was made all the worse by the knowledge that he’d left his best friend to die alone. No one could survive that kind of damage, not even a powder mage. Bo may be hardier than most Privileged, but he would be dead within a day or two, and Taniel hadn’t even said good-bye. He had left in a panic to try to retrieve Ka-poel and he knew he’d regret it for the rest of his life.