Free Warrior Mage (Book 1) by Lindsay Buroker

year earlier, and Yanko did not know of anyone in the area who could have done this. He certainly could not. Most of his learning had come through books. Perhaps he had been delusional to think he would ever be qualified to attend Stargrind.
    Lakeo strolled out of a shed with two canteens bouncing on her hips. “At least there’s water here. Good well. Nice lake.”
    “You took those?” Yanko frowned at the canteens, the idea of his people being stolen from while they were gone irritating him. This whole situation irritated him.
    Lakeo shrugged. “Nobody’s using them. We have to walk another two days to the coast, right? I’m tired of licking leaves.”
    “Put them back.”
    Her indifferent shrug turned into a scowl. “You’re not in charge here, Yanko. We’re just two people traveling the same way. You don’t have any right to tell me what to do.”
    Yanko stepped away from the building. “That’s Shen Pon’s shed and his canteens. He’s a baker, lost a leg in the war, and his only son is a shepherd. He’s probably poorer than you. Put them back, and I’ll get you something from our house.” Granted, Yanko hadn’t reached his own family’s homestead yet, but he trusted that whatever the raiders had come for, it wasn’t canteens.
    For a long moment, Lakeo stared mulishly at him, but she finally shrugged again and tossed the canteens back into the smoldering building. Half of the roof had burned off, and soot stained two of the inside walls. If Shen Pon came back, canteens were probably the last thing he would worry about. Still, the idea of stealing from his people—from any people—made Yanko grimace.
    “Got any beds in your house?” Lakeo asked as they walked along the lake, the worn cobblestone road in good shape despite the destruction to the rest of the village.
    “Many.”
    “Think we can rest there tonight? That it would be wise? I’m exhausted. They wouldn’t come back to raid the same village twice, would they?”
    “I don’t know.”
    Yanko did not know what they would find. It was wishful to think that the raiders hadn’t reached his homestead, but the property was fenced, so maybe the rest of the village had run there to hide—to put up a stand. Granted, the split-log railing that encompassed most of the area would not keep out determined warriors and definitely would not stop a wizard. Even the deer leaped over it easily in their constant quest to terrorize his grandmother’s garden.
    Thinking of those deer and his family brought memories of his childhood to mind. He tried to swallow around the lump that had formed in his throat again—or maybe it had never completely disappeared.
    “Look, Yanko,” Lakeo said. “I’m sorry you lost your uncle. And that this happened. I know it’s hard.”
    “Thanks,” he mumbled. He sensed that saying that had been hard for her, though he didn’t know why. She could make sarcastic comments easily enough.
    “I lost my mother too. A few years ago. Been on my own since I was fourteen. It’s not easy being alone.”
    “Yeah.”
    They passed through the wooden gates, and the grassy foothills that marked the beginning of the homestead came into view. The property wasn’t impressive by the standards of many of the honored families—he had been told that his grandparents had once owned several homes in the Golden City that princes would have been pleased to stay in—but it was sprawling, with plenty of space for children to roam. The centuries-old main house had room for multiple generations, and barns and yurts dotted the property, along with a couple of greenhouses that supplied much of the produce for those who lived in the valley, especially tropical fruits that couldn’t survive the mountain frosts. Yanko did not see any signs of destruction, no singed walls or smoke wafting from the roofs, but as with the village, an emptiness hung about the place. Though his headache hadn’t abated, he cast out with his mind, searching for his