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Mage-Ridden hadn’t been seen in centuries, since the wars when the Guild and Kalderon fought against invading armies. Back then, outside the border, mages had been taken and made into Ridden. They were smart, and the Ridden who took the mage’s body retained their magical ability.
Adding the magical power of a battlemage to the physicality of a Ridden was a fight for a squad with heavy weapons, preferably with a battlemage as a backup. Not a fight for a single person armed with knives.
In the old days, mage-Ridden had leveled cities. Ethan had made me and Chance watch the documentary of the destruction of Mavil twice and made us answer questions later. Two mage-Ridden against a city. While Rue and the battlemages from the Guild had arrived in time to save a part of the city, more than half of it had been destroyed by fire and earthquake in less than two minutes. The exact death toll was unknown but estimated in the tens of thousands.
Even if Ridden hadn’t really pressed the border in decades, I understood how dangerous they were.
Frozen in place, I kept watch on him, trying to be as small and quiet as possible. As far as I could tell, he hadn’t seen me. A point in my favor was that battlemages didn’t do mind magic. They were trained and focused on destruction.
A flicker of movement to my left. Another mage-Ridden, this one female, drifted in from a break in the trees. Her feet didn’t touch the ground, and lines of frost formed on leaves and grass as she passed. She bore the tattoos as well.
I forced my breathing to slow and pressed my shaking hands on the bark. Clinging to the tree, I blanked my mind and forced myself to be still as two women and four men emerged from the hospital, heading for the stone.
From my angle, fifty feet up, it was hard to tell if they had tattoos. They were barefoot and dressed in ordinary clothes, and they didn’t act like normal Ridden, rushing to fight and eat. Maybe these were regular people? Maybe they were being held prisoner by the mage-Ridden in the woods for some unknown reason?
Even two mage-Ridden in one place was not good. Saying this situation was not good was like calling a whale a fish—yes, it was in the water, but it was a whole ‘nother order of trouble.
The two mage-Ridden hovered near them, then the group of them turned and faced east. Thankfully, I was to the south.
I plastered myself down even harder on the tree when six mage-Ridden emerged from the trees, drifting close together. The magic supporting them, a localized whirlwind, flattened and whipped the long grass. In all the history I could remember, there’d never been so many of the mage-Ridden all in one place.
What was going on here? This was beyond an invading army. Had all the patients at the hospital become Ridden? How did it happen?
Unless something very strange had happened, I couldn’t see a way for Ross Cohen’s staff to be unaware of this. The structure and grounds showed signs of years of neglect, and his staff had signed off on yearly inspections saying the place was in good order.
One of the more normal-looking people turned her face up toward the sun. She bore the tattoo; an elaborate mix of color and swirls that indicated high rank and service awards. No battlemage would be in proximity to mage-Ridden without fighting. What had happened here?
My mouth was beyond dry with fear, and I almost didn’t dare swallow. Whatever power looked out for fools had sheltered me. I’d been walking in a forest with mage-Ridden and they hadn’t seen me. If I were a cat, I’d be in negative lives at this point.
I could only watch and hope I got out of this alive. A breeze rustled through the leaves on the upper branch where I lay, chilling me even more as it hit the fear-sweat that had sprung up all over my body.
If they perceived me I didn’t have to worry about being chased. A mage-Ridden could kill me with fire, with lightning, by crushing me with sheer power. It would be no contest.
I needed to survive to get Silver this information. To keep those I loved safe. With an army like this, the Ridden might be able to take the Capitol and Dmitri. It would be over dead bodies, mine, Robert’s, Walker’s, but with this many of them? It could be done.
No one exited the grav. Why was it here and why weren’t they attacking it? Why were they standing around and waiting?
My gift decided I wasn’t scared enough, probably, and kicked into high gear. The emotions of the mage-Ridden's below me poured into me. Most of the time when you encounter a Ridden it feels like a hungry animal. There’s not really malice involved when it rips your face off.
This was completely different. Non-human layers of feelings swirled around the people waiting by the rock. It was like each body had two occupants, one radiating anger, fear, and torment. Then another presence layered on top, cool and in control, a counterpoint to the fierce emotions.
This felt like those people were still there, trapped in their bodies. My stomach heaved, and I swallowed hard. Poor bastards.
The Tree kept people from being taken by the Ridden while they were alive; that was why you only needed to worry about the dead rising in the Guild. I had no idea what the boundaries of the Tree’s power were, though. Had someone found a pocket where the Tree didn’t protect and taken the battlemages to it to be possessed?
Terror slammed through me as I sorted the emotions out, counting the different presences. The woman who’d turned her face to the sun, who had a normal shape and a normal mouth-felt the same as the mage-Ridden. She was controlled by another’s will. They all were. All of those beneath me were Ridden.
Shivers kept wanting to break out across my body and I continued breathing slow and deep. Screaming hysteria would only get me killed. I bellied down to the branch and tried to think like I was a tree, only a piece of vegetation, nothing to attract attention.
Ridden had found a way to hide the change, the possession? Ethan needed to know this. And Silver. And Robert. And anyone in any position of authority. Ridden could be in Kalderon. They could be in the Capitol.
But not near Dmitri at the moment I’d left- I would have felt it if Robert or Elise were Ridden. I need to be like a rock or snow, or anything calm and unmoved. Living to deliver this news was important. To do that I needed to remain hidden and unnoticed. Sap seeped over my clenched hands, and insects crawled over the exposed skin of my arms. I had a clear view from my perch high above them, but that meant they might see me if they looked in the right direction. Movement caught my eye, so I needed to stay still.
The wind sighed over me. A low chirring, at the furthest edge of my hearing, accompanied by gestures from those gathered by the grav. The body language seemed to indicate they were speaking softly, causing my problem hearing them. They were gesturing? My stomach twisted. This must be the language of whatever creatures had taken their bodies.
I wanted to climb down from the tree, to run as far and as fast back to the Capitol and tell everyone what I’d seen. But not only would the movement get me seen and killed, I still had more questions. How had they done this? How long had this been going on? Who knew about it?
If Ross Cohen knew, I couldn’t think of any way he’d escape being arrested and tried for treason. He’d betrayed humanity. What benefit did he get from this? Did he think he could control this army and seize control of the Guild? Why would he do that to his brother?
