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“No,” the newcomer said. He spoke calmly, but there was a darkness underlying his tone that kept Rochelle on edge. “I’m supposed to capture as many of the fools who invaded this kingdom as possible. But for what you’ve done … you don’t deserve that.”
Her eyes widened at his unexpected words.What?Had reinforcements come?
She barely had time to wonder before the Zrynians lunged in a synchronized attack, clearly spurred by this man’s words. For a split-second, she wondered if she would be able to repel at least one of them, the way she had the last. Or in any way at all.
Then the two slammed into the air, as if it had become as solid as rock, their noses shattering even as their bodies flattened against the barrier from their momentum. The man beside her bent his arm at the elbow, index finger extended, and a split-stream bolt of white-blue lightning shot from his finger directly into the men.
They released strange, choked groans, as if trying to muffle the evidence of their pain even as their backs arched and their bodies spasmed. Finally, they dropped their weapons to the dirt. First the axe fell, hitting with a heavy thud that kicked up a brief cloud of dust. Then the serrated dagger, landing with more of a muted clang. Smoke, or steam, wafted from their bodies as the warriors themselves finally hit the dirt seconds later.
Rochelle stared in wide-eyed shock. She could tell the warriors still lived, however faintly, but she was amazed at the ease and precision with which the green-eyed man beside her had dispatched them. She hadn’t yet witnessed magic on such a delicate yet powerful scale.
Her gaze slid sideways in an attempt to study him surreptitiously. She hadn’t seen even a flicker of a magic circle, despite the seemingly powerful spells he’d just tossed around. How was that possible? Only low-level magic could be done, for brief moments of time, without the appearance of a circle. That was her understanding.
Without warning green eyes locked onto hers. “You may want to turn away for this next part,” he said. “There’s no need for you to witness it. In a moment, I’ll escort you to the safe zone at Corast Hall.”
Corast Hall. That was where she’d been headed. Did he mean someone had managed to put some kind of barricade around it? Perhaps there were additional reinforcements? Of course there were. No one would send only one man for this sort of situation.
Then her brain kicked in and Rochelle sucked in a breath, immediately latching onto the bunched-up sleeve of his nice shirt. “I don’t care about these murderers,” she said, speaking quickly. “I need help. I promised to get help. There’s a girl and her mom a few streets back. The girl’s hurt really bad. She’s bleeding out. Please! Please, can you do something for her? Can you use soul magic? She needs a healer, a good one!”
He stared at her for a long second, until one of the electrocuted warriors groaned. Then the green-eyed stranger removed her claw-like grip from his sleeve with a gentle touch, curving his long fingers around her hand and squeezing just a little. “I understand. Close your eyes, then, and focus on their location in your memory.”
She didn’t understand the request. But there was no time to argue and, truthfully, there was a lot about the larger world now around her that she had yet to learn. So she nodded and closed her eyes, mentally retracing her hurried steps until she was back in that alley. Standing between a desperate mother, with her wounded daughter, and a dangerous man she hoped she’d left well-enough restrained.
“Good,” the stranger said. His voice was soothing to her ears. He still had hold of her hand, too. “Now, breathe in.”
She parted her lips just enough to do as she was bid, though the instruction confused her. The smoke in the air must have made her lightheaded with the breath, because for a moment, she was almost dizzy.
“Exhale, then open your eyes.”
The dizziness vanished with the released breath, but she didn’t have time to process how odd that was, because she wasn’t where she expected to be at all. Again. Except at least this time there was a slightly familiar face in front of her and—most critically—she was still dressed. She also knew where she was.
The alley she’d pictured.
The smoke was thicker than it had been, and the accumulated fires had gotten closer. It was immediately harder to breathe, and the first sound Rochelle processed was the ominous snapping of nearby flame. Which explained the heat.
“I-it’s … you…” a weak female voice said from behind her—behind them.
The man still pinned to the roadway stirred and flailed his arms, grasping at the dirt as he cursed and coughed into the smoke-laden air.
Rochelle ignored him and turned, finding the mother and daughter right where she’d left them. Only now the daughter, by some miracle, had regained consciousness. The girl even managed a little smile.
The bundle of fabric Rochelle had instructed the mother hold over the girl’s wound was nearly soaked through.
Rochelle swallowed hard and indicated the man she didn’t know, who had apparently just teleported them halfway across Corast by reading her memory. “I brought … help.” She hoped.
The mother managed a strained, weary smile. Her eyes were visibly bloodshot and drooping.
The green-eyed stranger stepped forward and crouched down across from them, closer to the injured girl. “Don’t worry,” he said. “You’re going to be fine. Let’s get you both healed up and over to safety, shall we?”
Both?
“Please,” the mother said, her voice hoarse and strained. “M-my daughter…”
Rochelle swept her gaze over the older woman, her heart pounding hard. There was blood staining the woman’s clothes where it didn’t seem like there should be. Why had she not seen that before? Why hadn’t the woman indicated she was hurt, too?
“Your daughter will be fine,” the man said. This time, a circle spread out beneath him, appearing and stretching wide enough to accommodate the women in the blink of an eye. It glowed a translucent white, almost silver, as he reached out and laid a single hand over the hand the mother still held to her daughter’s wound.
The women were immediately outlined in a matching silvery glow, and the daughter’s eyes fell closed, as if the energy coursing through her was too relaxing to resist.
