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Fortifications
“Alem, finish showing Verve around, would you?” Ivet said when the three of them returned to Lotis’s center. “It’s my turn to help with lunch.”
Alem glanced around. “Isn’t Owen supposed to help you, too?” He tensed, and on instinct, Verve reached for one of her daggers. “I haven’t seen him all morning,” Alem added.
Ivet swore softly. “He must have run off again. That boy, I swear.”
“It’s all right,” Alem said, sighing. “I’ll find him.”
“Take Verve,” Ivet replied wryly. “Maybe Owen will listen to someone armed.”
With that, the village’s founder hurried toward the tavern, leaving Verve and Alem alone. Verve glanced at the dendric mage. “Who’s Owen?”
“Another lost soul who found himself here.” Alem gestured to the boardwalk ahead and they began to walk. “He’s fourteen summers old — just a lad. Klaret found him and his little brother, Lio, about three months ago. They were alone on a raft. Their parents…” His jaw tightened. “Dead.”
“More victims of the warring mages?” Verve asked.
“Unfortunately. There’s another orphan here, a little girl named Kinneret. She’s the youngest member of Lotis. Six summers old.” Alem’s steps echoed on the boardwalk with heavy thuds. “Kinny’s mother was a particle mage — killed by one of the shape-changers. I couldn’t save her. No idea where Kinny’s da is, but she’s safe if he ever comes looking.”
“Six summers.” The sun was high and warm, but Verve shivered anyway. “Is she a mage?”
“Yeah,” Alem replied. “So is Lio. Not Owen, though.”
“Strange,” Verve said. At Alem’s look, she shrugged. “I’ve never heard of mages and regular folks living together like you do in Lotis. Peacefully.”
“Regular folks,” he muttered. “Who are they, I wonder?”
Verve did not rise to the bait. “I suppose you all live here together because none of you are powerful enough to survive on your own.”
Alem shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “Aye, that must be it. Certainly not because even us filthy moon-bloods desire to live in peace.”
The harsh edge to his voice sent up her hackles. “I never said that.”
“You implied it.”
Verve lifted her chin. “I’m sure you and the other mages here are the exception, but even you must realize your kindred are monsters.”
Alem scoffed. “High-handed words coming from someone who makes a living from death. What lies do you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?”
Verve halted, one foot on the boardwalk, the other on solid ground. Her heart was racing, but beneath the sun, she knew nothing but anger. “Mages aren’t regular people, Alem. Even a healer like you has more power than anyone has a right to, and you can’t even turn into a beast or throw fireballs — that I know of. All morning, you’ve shown me how mages have made your home bleed. Well, I’ve traveled far and wide, and the story is the same everywhere. Those who don’t have magic are at its mercy, and those that do are too busy fighting for power or territory to worry about those that don’t. And you dare to judge me for doing what I do?”
He stepped closer, within arm’s reach, but there was no fear in his eyes. “Ivet hired you. Not me. If I had my way, you’d already be gone. More death isn’t the answer to our troubles.”
“Maybe not. But I’m the only answer you have right now. And to answer your question, I sleep just fine.” Well, that was a lie, but Verve wasn’t about to spoil her victory.
She’d never backed down from a challenge and wasn’t about to start, so she stepped close enough to smell him: honey and citrus, and a faint, warm scent of tea. She shook away the silly observation and added, “What’s your damage, anyway? I’m guessing you have your own tragic past that brought you to Lotis?”
Alem’s brows drew together before he looked away, back at the village behind them. “Not really. I just…” He flexed his hands, and Verve couldn’t help but admire the muscles of his bare forearms. “I just don’t understand why they fight each other. The other mages, I mean.”
He nodded to the path ahead that paralleled the water, and they continued to walk away from the village. Verve scanned the area but found no sign of danger — or a missing teenager. “Like I said, they fight for territory, or resources. Mages have no leaders, so they war with one another for control.”
Alem skimmed a hand over one of his braids. “Control of what? Aredia is broken. Legion will overtake us all, soon enough.”
The mention of Legion clamped an icy fist around Verve’s chest, chilling her to her core. She fingered one of her daggers. Alem had thrown a fit when she’d tried to take her crossbow out this morning; she’d relented — this time. Not again, she vowed. She was nothing without her weapons.
“Does Legion trouble you here?” she asked.
“No, thank Seren,” Alem replied. The mention of the mage moon made Verve glance up, but the scarred second moon was nowhere to be seen. Atal, the first moon, had just started to wane, and now dipped toward the tree-line.
