Zal

I didn’t force the pace the first afternoon—or at least I didn’t think I did. But Torian was a good foot shorter than me, still recovering from near-starvation, and unused to hard tramping, if indeed they’d ever done any at all in this Lab of theirs.

The way they lifted their feet, as if the boots Netta had found were leaden weights, made their claim of having never worn shoes believable.

By the time I found a reasonably protected campsite in a fall of rocks that shielded us from the vicious wind, Torian was limping visibly. But they’d never complained. Not once.

I shed my pack and my cloak and pointed to a fallen tree. “Sit there. I’ll gather wood for a fire, then see to your feet.”

Torian sank down on the log. “Thank you. Can I be of assistance?”

“I don’t know. Can you? Ever made a fire?”

“Of course.” They struggled to their feet. “Where’s the accelerant?”

“Don’t know what that is, but I’m pretty sure we don’t have any. Just sit. I’ll handle it.” I unstrapped my ax from the pack and turned toward the woods.

“Wait. Are you… That is, you trust me here alone?”

I grunted. “Not a matter of trust. I don’t think you could move another step, not if the whole of Corvel-on-Byrne was after you with fire and pitchforks.”

I strode into the trees. By the time I got back with a double armful of wood, Torian had removed their boots and the three pairs of socks Netta had come up with to try and make the things fit better.

Their pale, narrow feet were rubbed raw at heels, ankles, and toes. Guilt curdled my belly. After I’d given the reeves shite about cruel and unusual, I’d done the same by forcing this march.

I dropped down in front of Torian, my hand hovering over one of their feet. “May I?” At their nod, I cradled it in my hand. This time, the ping against my skin was stronger, running up my arm in a not-unpleasant way. I ignored it—no harm so far—and turned the poor foot this way and that, my healer’s skills assessing damage, considering treatment.

Torian sucked in a breath. I glanced up to see them clenching their eyes shut, teeth sunk into their full lower lip.

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No. It’s just… One of my regulars had a… a thing for my feet.”

“Your regulars. What regulars?”

Torian opened their eyes, shadowed and wary now, and I cursed the accusatory tone of my voice.

“I… One of my jobs at the lab was sex aid.”

“Sex aid? You were a sex worker? Like in a Comfort House?”

“I suppose you could say that. If the Infomancers or Lab assistants required release, it was my duty to provide it.”

I narrowed my eye. “Your duty? Not your choice?”

“It was my job. I was compensated, like any other Lab assistant.”

“Could you have gotten a different job if you’d wanted?”

“I wasn’t qualified for anything else.”

“So you didn’t have a choice.” My fingers tightened on Torian’s foot, and they flinched. “Shite. I’m sorry.” I gentled my hold. “Look, we need to talk more about this. But for now, I need to treat your wounds.”

Torian nodded, hunching deeper into their oversized jerkin and dusty second-hand cloak.

I considered the medicines I had in my pack. Rudimentary for the most part. Magic was a marvelous thing, but sometimes it was as well to treat a cut with a little protective salve, keep it clean, and give it time. But this wasn’t one of those occasions, not if I expected Torian to be able to walk tomorrow.

I’d have to use my staff, despite the fact it was still depleted from moving that thrice-blasted boulder and rebuilding the bridge, followed by a half-day’s march under heavy cloud-cover.

I pulled a crumbling meatroll from my pack and held it out to Torian. “Here. Eat this while I get things ready.”

They attempted to refuse it.“I don’t really—”

“Eat it. You’re nothing but bones, and you need your strength.”

Torian’s eyes widened at the fierceness in my tone. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not angry at you.” But I was completely out of charity with the citizens of Corvel-on-Byrne and the Infomancers, whoever they were, in this Lab, whatever that was.

We’d been following the river all day, so I stumped down to the bank and filled both of our water skins and the cook pot, considering my options. While it was the duty of the circuit mages to serve the citizens of their jurisdictions, it was the duty of all mages to advance learning and to share that knowledge for the betterment of all.

Who else had had the opportunity in the last two decades to speak with a Moon-born? To understand their magic? I had no illusions: Once I turned Torian over to the tribunal, there was little chance I’d see them again, let alone have this opportunity for uninterrupted conversation. The sin of all mages was insatiable curiosity.

Curiosity and, in my case, a very inconvenient compassion.

When the Congress had sent me to arrest Loriah, I’d almost let her go, believing her tale of misunderstanding and persecution. Then she’d gone for my eyes, the look on her face as feral as any mad cur.

This time, I’d keep my guard well up.

I stalked up the trail to the campsite and set the pot on a flat rock next to the fire to warm the water. Planting the staff so it would stand at my back, I took my place in front of Torian, my medicine kit next to me, a length of rough toweling across my lap.

Before I picked up Torian’s foot again, though, I remembered to ask again. “You permit?”

Torian nodded, still hunched and clearly miserable.

I lifted one foot and wiped the raw flesh gently with lambs-wool soaked in a mild cleanser. “You know, don’t you, that what you did in the village was wrong?”

“You mean trying to convince them to let me go?”

I stilled, the sponge resting on Torian’s instep. “Is that what you were doing?”

“Of course. I needed to get away.” They looked back the way we’d come. Although the village was out of sight, the topless mountain loomed over the trees. “I still do.”

“Doesn’t matter, you know. Using magic that interferes with free will is illegal. Our whole society is based on the right of every citizen to choose. When you bespelled them—”

“I’m not a mage. I can’t bespell anybody.”

“You cast the same spell at me. Twice. It didn’t work, but that doesn’t make it any less unlawful.”

I set Torian’s foot on the toweling and tested the water in the pot. Warm enough. I tossed in a handful of soothing herbs to reduce the discomfort of the healing process. Rogue mage or not, Torian had had precious little pleasantness lately. “This may sting for a moment.” I eased their feet into the warm water, holding their ankles firmly when their feet twitched. “If you’re to be able to walk tomorrow, I’ll have to speed the healing with a spell.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” A faint note of irony laced Torian’s voice. “Aren’t you bespelling me?”

“Technically, I’m bespelling the water. You have the choice to remove your feet if you wish.” I lifted my hands, nodding at the pot. “Up to you. You’re the one who has to walk on them tomorrow, and we’ll be on the trail for a full day rather than just a half.”

“Very well.”

Sulky, now, are we? I hid a grin. Perhaps Moon mages weren’t so different from anyone else. “Right, then.” I focused my attention on my task, reaching for the link to the Sun.

“I’m not certain I understand the nuances, but—” Torian sucked in a breath when my Sun Stone began to glow. “Oh. Yes.” The word was spoken like a prayer.

I circled a fingertip over the water, and it began to swirl, turning from clear to opaque to white to gold. I murmured the healing words under my breath.

“That’s so… I’ve never… Please don’t stop.”

Sun, moon, and stars—Torian sounded as if they were deep in the throes of lovemaking, not in the midst of medical treatment in the wilderness. If this was another attempt to ignite my non-existent sex drive…

I glanced up, and the words of reproach died on my lips. My finger stilled, and the water stopped swirling and lost its glow, but the light didn’t fade. Because the light was inside Torian, illuminating them, a pattern of gold weaving under their pale skin like a web of fire.

They blinked, disappointment clouding their gaze. “You’ve stopped.”

“What are you? A parasite? Is this what a Moon mage does? Suck up the light of the Sun?”

“I’m not a mage. I told you. I’m not a parasite either.”

I scuttled backward, knocking my staff to the ground and dousing my Sun Stone. “That’s for the tribunal to decide. But I warn you, I’ll have to give testimony about what I’ve seen you do.”

“I understand.” The gold lattice under their skin faded. Torian looked unhappy—who wouldn’t, when faced with legal action?—but less malnourished.

I pretended I believed it was from the meatroll, but I wasn’t fooling myself. Torian had absorbed magic from my Sun Stone, taken it in like they were feeding on it.

Think about it, man. Isn’t that what the moon is? It had no light of its own, only reflected light stolen—or at the very least, borrowed—from the sun. Is that what Moon mages were? Leeches who could drain the power from a Sun Stone, from a Sun mage, whether the Sun mage chose to allow it or not?

Perhaps it was a good thing there weren’t any more of them—and perhaps this was why.

I tossed the second bedroll at Torian’s now-healed feet. “Here. Get some sleep. We march out at first light.”

I’d get Torian to the capital. Once I turned them over, they’d be somebody else’s problem and I could go home and forget all about them.