A New Dawn- Complete series Read online

  Bette chewed her cheek. “I suppose yer right. I am the first woman to work in the guards, and blowed to anyone who thinks I’m worth any less, just ‘cause I don’t have a dick between me legs!”

  Julianne giggled. “Means you’ll think more clearly, I bet.”

  “And I won’t be wasting me nights at the taverns, or be taken in by a pretty lass with a thief for a sister like Donovan did, either.”

  Julianne stretched, regarding her companion with respect. Bette had a damn good point. “You know, if you’ve got a good head on you, there’s a chance you’ll have Harker’s job one day.”

  “I dinna want it!” Bette retorted. “It’s the road I love. Travelling, seeing new places and earning some coin to do it. I don’t mind me a good fight, either.”

  Julianne didn’t remind her this was the first time she had earned any coin for seeing the world. The girl was pushing against tradition, and Julianne loved that.

  It hit close to home, for the Mystic Temple had, like most of Irth, a very male-centric view of the world when Julianne had risen to take Selah’s place.

  “Things are changing,” she whispered, a pool of satisfaction warming inside her breast. When Julianne took the helm back at the Temple, outsiders were often shocked at seeing a woman in control. Then, Hannah had come along and not only proven herself powerful, she’d led an entire revolution.

  Julianne opened her mouth to ask Bette what her long-term plans were. Before she could say anything, she was interrupted by voices from ahead.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Julianne sent out a mental probe, touching Danil’s mind first.

  Traders, returning from Arcadia, Danil sent.

  Julianne nudged her horse and trotted up to meet them, gesturing Bette to do the same.

  “Barton, you’re back early,” Garrett said, moving his horse to the side of the path.

  “Aye. The new designs went better than expected. Seems the people of Arcadia missed our regular trips and are making up fer lost time.”

  Julianne knew the jewelry trade had suffered during Adrien’s rule, the demand for amphoralds overriding the need for pretty things. “I’m glad things are going well for the rearick,” she said.

  “Oh yes,” his companion said with a grin. “The money flows and with all the stones we’d stockpiled, there’s more than enough to go ‘round. Here,” he said, digging in his pocket. “A trinket for ye, lass.” He threw something in the air towards Julianne, sending a sprinkle of light over the ground as the sun caught the stone’s facets.

  The tiny butterfly pin, set with green stones, nestled in Julianne’s palm. “How much?” she asked, enamored with it.

  “A pretty smile, is all. Them ladies are wanting lizards and fruit this season, not insects, so it won’t fetch a price worth more.”

  Despite an urge to roll her eyes, Julianne grinned. “Thank you,” she said, fastening the pin to her robes. “Bette, is it straight?”

  “What? That you Bette?” The rearick who’d gifted the stone to Julianne craned his head around to see.

  “What of it, Gus?” Bette snapped.

  He laughed, a deep, rollicking chuckle. “Aye, that’s the spirit. Good to see Sylvan finally broke down. We’d best be moving on, though, want to have tomorrow’s load ready to go before nightfall.”

  Gus nodded to his companion, who had a faraway look in his eyes. Barton absentmindedly kicked his horse, and started past the mystic’s party. He paused by Julianne and met her eyes.

  His glare bored into her, making the skin on her neck prickle. She debated slipping into a trance, but instead asked, “Anything the matter, friend?”

  The rearick frowned and flicked his head. “Just feel like I’ve forgotten… that pin, where did you get it?” He’d lost his earlier joviality and now sounded flat and toneless.

  Confused, Julianne looked down at the green butterfly. “This? Gus just—”

  “THIEF!” Barton lunged at Julianne, yanking on his horse’s reins violently. The nag shrieked and reared up, her front feet pawing at Julianne.

  Julianne fell to the ground and rolled to avoid her own mare’s clattering hooves. She pressed up against the rock face as Barton vaulted off his horse. Behind him, Gus screamed “Thief!” over and over, waving his sword in a frenzied pattern.

  Barton slammed a fist into Julianne’s face. Pain flared from cheekbone to temple. Someone screamed. Julianne threw up an arm to fend off the next blow and caught the brunt of it on her forearm. In that moment, she slipped into a trance.

  She shoved against the block on Barton’s mind. Her energy was scattered, not strong enough. Pain shot through her shoulder as another blow landed. Bette screamed, two desperate words. “Please, no!”

  Drawing her fear, her anger, her pain into a tight ball, Julianne found her center. She pushed the focused energy through Barton’s mind, shattering the defenses that kept her out before. She wasn’t alone.

  “GET OUT!” she shrieked, using all her strength to eject the foreign presence that altered his thoughts.

  Barton fell. Julianne was yanked back into her body as he lost consciousness. Reeling, she looked up to see Gus lying in the dirt, in a dark, sticky pool. Bette leaned over him, hands pressed to his shoulder as he moaned.

  Garrett yelled. “Ye silly girl, get off him before he kills ye!” His sword was drawn and streaked with blood.

  “Don’t be stupid, Garrett,” she snapped back. “It’s alright, Gus. Just breathe, it’s not that bad.”

  Gus turned his head, his eyes darting around in panic.

  Eyes clouded over again, Julianne searched. Where are they? Julianne pushed the thought to Danil and Bastian. Both men stood ready for battle, eyes white.

  I can’t find them, Jules. The fear in Danil’s voice shook Julianne to the core.

  “Garrett, Bette, search the area,” she snapped, pulling herself to her feet.

  The two rearick eyed each other, then shook their heads. “I canna leave Gus,” Bette said.

  “I’m not leaving until he’s tied up,” Garrett said.

  Julianne pulled herself up and went to examine the fallen trader. “What happened?”

  Julianne gently pushed Bette aside and replaced the rearicks hands with her own. The blood was slowing now.

  Garrett’s jaw clenched. “He went crazy, attacked Bette. She dropped her sword, couldn’t defend herself. I had no choice.”

  Bette snarled and snatched her weapon from the ground, her hands still slick with blood. She stormed up to Garrett and shoved him, hard. “You idiot. I didn’t drop me sword, I threw it away so I wouldn’t hurt him!”

  Garrett shook his head, confused. “He was gonna to kill ye!”

  “No he bloody wasn’t, he was gonna get a sore bloody head. What the hell were ye thinking, busting in like that? Ye should have been lookin’ after her!” Bette thrust the sword in Julianne’s direction for emphasis.

  “Bette, don’t be stupid. Gus went crazy! You were unarmed; what the bloody hell did ye want me to do?”

  “Use yer thick head, that’s what, and stop treating me like I’m a piece of bloody glass. Ye know I can hold me own in a bare hand fight. Gus didn’t draw; he just flew at me. It was obviously some kind of mental heebie jeebie, I didn’t want to kill the poor bastard.”

  “Mental… what? Is that what happened?” Garrett swung round, looking to Julianne for confirmation.

  Before she could answer, Bette snapped, “Of course, it bloody was. What, did ye think he just didn’t like me hat?”

  Garrett stared at her for a moment. “Ah, hell. Now I’ve gone and done it. Gus? Ye with us now, ye bastard?”

  “Urmph.” The grunt was all Gus seemed to be able to manage. He’d watched the exchange between Bette and Garrett with rising fear, his heart beating faster as blood leaked out of his wound. He tried to sit, but Julianne pushed him back down.

  Julianne muttered a quiet word and her eyes turned white. Gus relaxed, slumping back on the ground. “There you go. No
need to fret, we’ll sort it all out.”

  “I… I dinna mean to…” His eyelids fluttered.

  “Aye, son. We know.” Bette patted his good shoulder.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Bastian watched Bette take over the first aid duties, binding Gus’s shoulder with a bandage from her pack. Danil led Garrett away, quietly explaining what had happened. No one went out of sight, and the mystics kept shooting quick glances at their surroundings, looking out for more trouble.

  Dropping into a light trance to keep watch for anyone approaching, Bastian wandered over to Julianne. She’d moved to sit by the sleeping Barton. A dark bruise was forming on her face, and she reached up, wincing as her fingers probed it.

  As soon as she had been attacked, Bastian had touched her mind, a technique drummed into students at the Temple. At any sign of crisis, make contact with anyone you can, they said. He’d seen her reaction, the way she’d taken all the things that should have ruined her focus and instead turned them into fuel for her concentration.

  He’d watched in awe as she shattered whatever trick had been used to cloud Barton’s mind, and the precision she’d used to avoid damaging his true self. It was never a sure thing, but Bastian would lay money on Barton waking up in minutes, alive and well. As if to prove his point, the rearick twitched, then mumbled something.

  “Will he be alright?” Bette called from Gus’s side.

  “I think so. He’ll have a headache for a few days like he went on a three-day bender, and his memory of today might be a bit spotty. He’ll get off lighter than me,” she said wryly. Julianne took Bette’s hand and looked in her eyes. “Someone got into their heads, made them think we were roving thieves. Bette, this is important: your friends thought we were someone else. They didn’t know who we were, or remember we’d just spoken.”

  “I still don’t know what in the hell happened. Ye saying one of yer mystic people bamboozled me head?” Gus asked.

  Julianne nodded. “You attacked Bette. Barton tried to kill me. I knocked him out mentally, but he’ll be ok.”

  “Aye,” Bette said. “I’m sorry for knockin’ ye about, Gus. And I know Garrett’s sorry for stabbin’ ye in the shoulder. Silly bastard thought he was helpin’.”

  “I dinna mean it. Really. For a minute, I was sure ye were bandits, but that makes no sense, does it?” Gus whipped his head around as Bette tried to hold him still.

  Bastian, still riding inside Julianne’s head, felt the tendril of soothing calm she sent his way.

  It must have cost her. Sending emotion like that wasn’t an easy thing to do, and Julianne had just expended a huge amount of energy to free Barton from the illusions forced into his head. A distance in Julianne’s eyes betrayed her strain and Bastian realized with a shock that her shields were entirely down.

  I’ve got little left, she admitted, finally noticing him in her head. Do you mind sticking around? I don’t think I could fight off a direct attack right now.

  Bastian’s heart skipped a beat.

  The Master of all his people had just invited him into her unshielded mind, asked him to protect it. It was an honor and responsibility he’d never expected to have, and certainly one he didn’t feel confident he could live up to if something did happen.

  And yet, her confidence in him was absolute. He could see that. Her thoughts fed off his, and he was unable to ignore the tired musings that flashed through her mind. She’d seen his curiosity about the New Dawn and guessed at his plans to seek them out.

  Embarrassed, he tried to turn his mind away from the subject, but Julianne was still on it. She felt in her heart that she was right to be wary of them, but wanted to give Bastian the chance to make up his own mind. And, yes, she wanted to keep him close enough that she’d be there if he got into any trouble.

  That confused him. As a student, going through the initiate and intermediary stages of his training, he’d had very little to do with Julianne in a personal sense. She was just too busy, and then had disappeared to Arcadia for months. Why would she care?

  Her thoughts caught his and immediately, she answered. I care about all of you, Bastian.

  The quick flood of memories bypassed him too quick to make out details, but he knew that Julianne thought of every single one of the mystic students as her own, to protect, teach and provide for as a mother would for her children.

  He tore his eyes away, distancing himself just enough to pull out of her memories and thoughts while still keeping a watchful eye on her safety. His determination to seek out this strange clan of mystics was beginning to feel foolhardy and disloyal. He wasn’t quite ready to give it up yet, though.

  He'd tried to learn as much as he could about the events in Arcadia. Nothing he'd heard answered his real questions, though. If the people in power could be so easily corrupted, what hope did the world have? For a fleeting moment, Donna had seemed to present an answer.

  Danil and Garrett returned. Garrett led a horse over to Gus. Scuffing his feet in the dirt, he apologized over Gus’s protestations that he really didn’t need to. As the two rearick started an argument over who was sorrier, Danil wandered over to Julianne and Bastian.

  Danil sat with a thump next to Julianne. “You look like you’ve been hit by a rampaging donkey,” he said.

  “Always the compliments,” she replied. Her mouth quirked up in a one-sided smile.

  “We need to get that seen to,” he said, tentatively touching the bruise on her face.

  “No, we don’t. I’m not stubborn enough to risk my health, Danil, but there’s no concussion and the bones are all intact.”

  “Oh, we’ve picked up a whole new kind of magic, have we? Seeing your own bones?” One eyebrow lifted, the effect made comical by his misdirected gaze.

  “Shut up, you. I promise, if it needs to be seen when we get to Arcadia, I’ll do something about it then.”

  “It may not be that simple.” Danil’s voice dropped a little as he glanced over at the two rearick. “What are we going to do about these two?” He nodded at Gus. “Could turn into a shitstorm if they blame us.”

  “Why would they?” Bastian asked, startled. “Gus knows what happened. Why would he lie about it?”

  Julianne’s face was serious. “Bastian, mystics have always been one group. We’re split up and we wander around, but we’ve never had anyone splinter off like this. When two wounded rearick go back to Craigston and tell them mystics were at fault… well, it could get difficult, that’s all.”

  Bastian chewed his lip. “That doesn’t seem fair,” he said.

  “Danil, can you give Barton a nudge? He’s almost awake.”

  Danil’s eyes clouded for a moment. Then, mumbling loudly, Barton woke. He rolled to his hands and knees, then sat back. Muzzily looking at the somber faces around him, Barton rubbed a hand over his face, then spat.

  “All right, what ‘appened? Last I recall, I was on me horse and you had a pretty face.” He gestured to the now vicious bruise on Julianne’s cheek.

  Silence greeted his question. Then, Garrett came to stand over Barton. “Ye almost killed Julianne.”

  “Bullshit,” Barton staggered to his feet, but stumbled sideways, almost tripping over. He caught sight of Gus, who’d fallen into a light sleep. At the sight of the blood, he reeled. “Gus? What’ wrong wi’ Gus?”

  “Barton, he’s fine. Please, sit down so we can explain.” Julianne’s words had no magic behind them, but her status as the Master still had weight. Barton plonked himself back down, eyes darting to the limp form of his friend.

  “Ye sure he’s not dead?”

  “Shh,” Bette hissed. “Would you lot keep it down? I just got him to stop bloody wriggling.” Then, she realized who she was talking to. “Oh, err… good to see you alive, Barton. But shut the hell up!”

  “We were attacked by a band of rogue mystics,” Julianne explained after Barton was satisfied Gus was safe. “They fooled you into thinking we were brigands, so you tried to fight us. There was… an accide
nt.”

  “Brigands. Aye, I recall. They took me gold and all our gems. It was after we passed ye… But… we never did, did we?” Barton shook his head as if trying to dislodge an insect from his hair. “Gus?”

  “He tried to kill Bette. I stabbed him with me sword. Got his shoulder pretty bad.” Garrett stared at the ground, unwilling to meet his kinsman’s eyes.

  “Fuck it to hell,” Barton said, then looked at Julianne. “Sorry, lass.”

  She shrugged. “You’re right. Fuck it all the damn way to hell. This is a shitty situation.”

  Barton ‘s eyes widened, then he let out a loud laugh. Bette chucked a pebble at him, barely missing his head. “You mystics aren’t half as stuffy as ye pretend to be, are ye?”

  “You should see her when she’s in a bad mood,” Danil said. “The things she comes out with would make a dead sailor turn in his grave.”

  Barton snorted, then dropped back into seriousness. “The bloody powers that be up at Craigston will have a blue fit. They’ve lost a lot of their reliance on the mystics—no offense, love—and I don’t know how they’ll take this.”

  “That depends on what they hear,” Julianne said quietly.

  Barton shot his head up, then leaned closer for a look at the purple swelling below her eye. “Ah, the Bitch take my ever-living soul. There’s a mark right in the middle of that mess, a little star. That’s me ring.” He flexed his fingers, showing off the trinket he wore on one finger.

  Julianne probed the indentation. She could feel the little jagged dent in her face. “Don’t blame yourself, friend.”

  “Can’t say I remember any of it, but seems you’re tellin’ the truth, lass. Far as I can tell, we surely were set upon by a group of miscreants, and yerself and yer friends here offered aid where ye could. That’s the tale I’ll be tellin’ on my return and blowed if anyone doubts it, for it’s the truth.”

  “Thank you, Barton.” Julianne’s shoulders dropped and some of the tension went out of her face. “Do you think Gus will be willing to back that up?”