Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Romance,
Romance - Gothic,
Fantasy fiction,
Fiction - Fantasy,
Fantasy,
Magic,
Epic,
Fantasy - Epic,
Brothers and sisters,
American Science Fiction And Fantasy,
Magicians,
American Light Romantic Fiction,
Romance - Fantasy
provide me with plenty of followers. Besides-” he thought for a moment “-once I deliver you to the Citadel, and show them that I’ve uncovered a dangerous spy, they’ll have no choice but to support my campaign against Ambrose. I’ll have the whole Sitian army at my command.”
He failed to impress me. Instead, he reminded me of a boy playing with toy soldiers. I did a quick mental calculation. Cahil was a year older than me, making him twenty-one.
“So you’re taking me to the Citadel?” I asked.
He nodded. “There, First Magician will reap the information from your mind.” He smiled as a greedy glint sparked in his eyes.
Somehow, I had missed the connection of the Magician and the Citadel the first time Cahil had mentioned it. The reference to them mashing my brains must have thrown me off.
“I’m going to the Citadel anyway. Why all the trouble?” I unfolded my arms, showing the manacles.
“You are masquerading as a student. Unfortunately, the Magicians take their Ethical Code very serious, and won’t interrogate you unless you’re caught doing something illegal. Without my intervention, they would have invited you in, and taught you all the secrets of Sitia.”
So I was to be his proof. He wanted to show them that he had saved the Sitians from a menacing criminal. “Okay. I’ll go with you to the Citadel.” I offered my wrists. “Remove these, and I won’t give you any trouble.”
“And what’s to stop you from running off?” he asked. There was a hitch of disbelief in his voice.
“My word.”
“Your word means nothing,” Leif said.
His first verbalization of the night, and I felt a strong urge to quiet him with my fist. I stared at him, beaming the promise of a future confrontation.
Cahil appeared unconvinced.
“How about the twelve men you have guarding me?” I asked.
“No. You’re my prisoner. You should be dressed as such.” Cahil waved his hand, and the two guards by the tent’s entrance grabbed my arms.
Meeting over. I was dragged from the tent and dumped by the fire, where Goel resumed his hawklike guard. Cahil had left me no choice. I would not arrive at the Citadel as his prize.
I lay there, watching and listening to the men as a simple plan formed in my mind. When the camp settled in for the night, two men relieved Goel. I feigned sleep, waiting until the second shift of men had enough time to grow bored.
Magic was the only weapon I had left; yet I was uncertain of my strength and abilities. What I planned to do could be considered a direct violation of the Magicians’ Ethical Code, but, at this point, I didn’t care. I would have preferred to fight, but I was out of options and time.
Breathing deep, I tried to project my awareness out. Without the aid of my bow, I failed miserably. I couldn’t focus. Not wanting to risk any big movements, I rubbed my thumbs along my fingertips. The skin contact helped to center my mind until I could push it away from me.
I had hoped my guards would be drowsy, but one whistled under his breath and the other reviewed military tactics in his head, although I could feel the desire for sleep pulling at their minds.
I used that desire. I gave a mental command to sleep, and crossed my fingers. My knowledge of magic was very limited; I had no idea if it would work. At first, resistance pushed back. I tried again. Soon, the two men sank to the ground, but still remained awake. I had wanted to be subtle, but the night was running out. Sleep, I ordered with force, and they fell over.
The chains clanked when I sat up. Pressing them to my beating chest, I scanned the slumbering men. I had forgotten about the noise. Since I could only use one hand and my mouth, picking the manacles’ locks would be difficult and loud, so I revised my plan. Perhaps I could send all the men into a deep sleep where noise would not rouse them.
I projected my