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But, why? I glance down at my illusion, making sure it still looks like I’m a complete person, and then back up at the woman who was willing to jump into a portal with a stranger from an enemy kingdom. What are you running away from, I wonder?
“Okay, listen,” Alindra says, leaning closer to me. “It would have been easier to get you out of the palace on a horse. Sometimes riders leave in the night, you know? And we aren’t allowed to question it.”
I absolutely do not know what she’s talking about, but I nod anyway. This doesn’t seem to be the time or place to argue about the details, and besides, I haven’t spent much time around magicians. They don’t usually make it as far as the Outer Ring, and thank the voids for that. Magicians creep me out. I shift on my feet, my boots squishy with water from another world that crashed out of one of Lythienne’s earlier, failed attempts at a portal.
But perhaps I’m not being entirely fair. This woman stole a servant’s uniform for me and then led me on a dizzying tour of back hallways and secret passageways that would have made Rowan proud. She clearly knows a thing or two about sneaking around in places where she’s not allowed, and she wasn’t afraid to share them with me.
Thinking of Rowan makes my chest pinch. He’d probably like this woman. When we rescue him, I’ll pour him a beer and tell him all about this little adventure. And horses.
The giant monster horse stomps heavily against the ground behind us, making the wooden gate rattle and me jump. Alindra winces, then gives me an apologetic expression.
“You okay with crawling?” she asks.
I look at the dark stall with the caged monster inside. “Sure,” I answer. “As long as it doesn’t involve horses.”
Alindra gives me a brief and surprisingly adorable smile. “Good,” she whispers. “Sometimes guys who wear ill—”
Her voice cuts off, like she’s catching herself, and then she shakes her head.
“Sorry,” she stammers. “Look. Can you give me some magic? It’ll make this easier.”
I stare at her, waiting for my brain to find the meaning in her words, and I come up empty.
“Some what?” I say.
“Magic,” she snaps, and there’s a bite to her voice now. “I’m a magician. I don’t have any magic of my own, understand? I can’t create new magic, I can only use what’s already there.”
Her face twists as she speaks, like this is something she’s not proud of, and I feel like an idiot. Of course I understand. I know all about magicians, don’t I? I’ve just never known them to ask before stealing a person’s magic.
“Sorry,” I reply, because now apparently it’s my turn to apologize.
I drop the heavy leather thing Alindra called a saddle as gently as possible to the ground and then cup my left hand in front of my chest. I don’t need my hand for this, but it’s helpful to have some part of my body to focus the magic, and my illusion of a right arm would be useless for this type of thing. A soft golden glow curls inside my palm, then spreads, rising into the darkness above us. And I’m smiling despite myself. Rowan always teased me about this, and I’d make them more and more ornate just to goad him.
The golden glow fades away, leaving me holding an enormous bouquet of flowers. They’re all the kinds that grew in the Outer Ring before the glowsoft orbs failed, pale blue strawflowers, nodding yellow trout lilies, and towering purple lupines, plus a few flowers of my own invention. Their scent rises in the air between us, soft and delicate. I’m especially proud of that, the smell of my illusion flowers. I hope she notices.
Alindra’s eyes widen, and then she looks like she’s trying to physically wrestle that soft, surprised expression off of her face. She reaches forward, and my illusion flowers vanish, leaving faint golden sparks dancing in the air between us.
And then the sparks shift, becoming something else. Alindra frowns as she twists my magic into a series of jagged golden lines hovering in the air between us, some soft and round and some as sharp as a blade. Alindra glances over her shoulder, then turns back to me.
“These are the Barrier Mountains,” she whispers. “Understand?”
Not at all. I feel like I’m sinking into the straw-strewn stones of the floor. She just made a map. And I hate maps. I remember Rowan spreading his layers and layers of notes across our table, jabbing at circles and equations, telling me it’s all really incredibly simple and don’t I get it yet?
I never got it. Not even after I saw him use the maps to navigate the void, to rescue Ithronel and Aloserin, and then to get us all out of there. He might as well have tried to teach me how to use his cursed magic. Alindra narrows her eyes at me. I nod instinctively.
“I get it,” I whisper, the lie slipping out of my lips before I can stop it.
There’s a moment of hesitation, and something cold prickles the back of my neck. I have just long enough to wonder what I’ll say if she presses me, and then the lines shift again. The gentle circles roll closer, the sharp edges fade away. Alindra moves around her illusion to stand beside me, and I shift my shoulders, trying to keep my illusion arm from brushing her body in the dark.
“When you get out of here,” she says, leaning closer to me, “you’ll be in the outer courtyard. The cart gate is probably unlocked. It’s the little one made of wood. Use that.”
I nod again, deciding not to comment on her use of the wordprobably.
“Once you’re clear of the wall,” she continues, “you’ll see the mountains. They’ll look like this.” She raises her right hand and gestures at the sparkling illusion hovering before us. The sparks dance, then reassemble themselves into what I guess a mountain looks like. “Get on the road,” she says, “and walk toward the mountains.”
She turns away from her illusion to tilt her head at me. I get the impression she isn’t very heartened by what she sees.
“You should be able to reach the mountains by sunrise,” she finally says. “The start of the Dragon Pass will look like this.”
