Chapter 1: Beginnings
Emma slowly opened the cardboard box that contained the remains of a happier, far-off life. Quietly she sifted through it in the silence of the empty apartment, where she and her mother had lived for the past fifteen years. It was just her now. At nineteen, she had moved in with her boyfriend for the summer, until she found his secret stash of meth and left him. Then she had returned, if only to find that her mother, having kept her condition secret from Emma for two years, was dying from lung cancer. She had returned to find her weak, lying in bed, ill from chemo and a whispery ghost of what she once was. Two months had passed, and then the funeral.
It had been a simple, quiet affair, with a few family friends. Now Emma was left with the task of sorting out what she needed and what she didn't- money was tight, and anything she could sell she had to, to pay the rent. The TV and DVD player were already gone; the couch was a sad replacement bought from Goodwill- mustard yellow and stained. Already most of the furniture that she didn't need had been sold, not that there was that much to sell. But if she could find anything- old jewelry or something that she could pawn, she would probably find some way to pay for food until she found a job.
Emma looked at what she had in her hands. She had opened a box that was her mother's, untouched until now. It was filled to bursting with all of her childhood memories, like crudely painted pictures from Sunday school, and drawings with messy fingerprints all over. She unearthed a trophy, a cheap plastic one, from some spelling bee in elementary, and other keepsakes. A small cardboard box was nearly buried amongst all the other things. Reaching in, she grabbed it and opened it.
Inside were pictures of her from happier times. Emma, age fifteen, standing proudly in her karate uniform, showing off her long-awaited, hard-earned black belt. Emma, age twelve, sitting high above her mother at horseback riding camp over the summer. Emma and mom, age seven, the notorious birthday party where a classmate, Ian Something-or-other, threw up all over Emma's party dress when she kicked him in the stomach for making fun of her toys. Emma put down the pictures, dry-eyed, but crying inside. All the memories came flooding back, tearing at her dam, at her walls, taking apart her self-control, brick by brick. She slowly re-packed the box just as she had found it, then went searching in the closet for her well-worn tennis shoes. It was seven in the evening, not too late, and she wanted to go run.
Running had been Emma's passion. Even through years of karate and riding, she had always turned to running to help calm herself. Combined with the self-discipline she had learned from karate, she had always found that she could always lose herself in the pounding beat of her heart and thudding of her shoes on concrete. So she picked up her tennis shoes and looked into her closet for something to wear. She grabbed a pair of black track shorts and a bright green tank top, just so that drivers could see her easily enough on the road. Just in case, she carried a blinking light that snapped onto the waistband of her shorts. Finally, she pulled her dark brown hair back into a ponytail and left the apartment, ready to go.
It was dark outside, but not awfully so- street lamps lit the dim road. She lived on the outskirts of Salome, a farming community in the middle of the Arizona desert. She started down the street and continued out, just running and running.
Two hours had passed, maybe more. Emma stopped to get a breath, and also to clear her mind. She was tired; her legs burned and her breath was coming in shallow pants. She had rested and finished off her water bottle in several breaks that she had taken. Now she felt incredibly stupid. She was out in the middle of the desert, and was likely to be eaten by coyotes or wolves, or bowled over and torn to pieces by a roaming herd of javelina. She turned and started to slowly jog the way back home, keeping a hand to her can of pepper spray that had expired a month ago.
A few minutes into her return journey, headlights of a car came into view. Emma kept on stolidly jogging, ignoring the car. It was a beat-up old truck, as she could see as it came closer. Two men were inside. It slowed as it came closer. The windows rolled down, and she felt a wave of stale breath wash over her as the drunk man inside leered at her athletic form.
"Hey pretty lady, want a ride?" Emma was disgusted. But she couldn't keep running, the truck blocked the narrow dirt road.
"I don't want anything, thank you. Sorry for getting in your way." She turned to risk a short jog through the brambles that grew along the roadside. As she turned, she tripped, however, and swore quietly to herself. She had fallen on a large jagged rock on the side of the road. She felt warm blood ooze from a cut that was now probably infected. The can of pepper spray had rattld off into the darkness. She heard the car door open, and the man got out and helped her up, holding her by the injured forearm.
"Well, thanks for helping me," she muttered, trying to slowly wrench her arm from his grasp. His reply was guttural, bestial.
"My pleasure- at least, it will be." He dragged her into the cab of the truck, strong in his drunkeness. She cried out, futilely. His companion grinned an oily grin, matted hair greasy and unwashed. The odor of unwashed bodies nearly caused her to throw up.
"Nice catch, Joey. We'll have fun with this one, you'll see." Emma lashed out with her free arm, only to feel it grabbed and twisted cruelly behind her back. Stars danced before her eyes and she moaned with pain.
"Now, we don't want any trouble with you yet, missy. Best shut up and listen to your elders- your masters. You'll be a pretty slave, right?" Emma gritted her teeth.
"You're disgusting! Son of a bitch- let me out- let me go!" With that, she kicked out with her foot, catching Greasy Hair in the shin.
"Ouch- Joey, it doesn't seem like our little slave is cooperating. I think that we should give a little discipline, at least until she obeys, right?" The driver grinned crookedly.
"That's a good idea, go ahead," he said, and started the car. Emma was still struggling, to no avail. Greasy Hair's grip was like bands of iron tearing into her skin.
"Let go of me, you bastard! Fucking hell- let me out!" Greasy Hair grinned.
"Fucking- that's a good idea. But you'll have to wait and see what we have in store for you, my little bitch. Now why don't you calm down-" Emma twisted around, seeing more stars explode in front of her eyes.
"Like hell I wi-" Those were her last words before she felt something strike the back of her head and a final burst of color exploded into her vision. The sparkling lights of green, blue, and red quickly faded into deep, unpenetrable darkness.
She awoke, tied to a bed securely with ductape. She struggled against her bonds to no avail. A rough voice grated out of the darkness,
"Hold her down." A wave of stale body odor washed over Emma as one of her captors roughly pressed his lips to her own. She grimaced and bit down, hard. There was a yelp, and the lips withdrew. She felt a moment of satisfaction that was suddenly knocked out of her as a heavy hand struck her across the face. Blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth as she felt her shirt get torn away. "Shut up, bitch. Act like a good girl, and maybe this won't hurt as much as it could." Emma saw the flash of a knife as someone pressed the tip into her flesh, just above her right breast. It cut a line down, just three inches, but painful and shallow. blood dribbled from the cut on her chest, and her stomach was knotted with fear, but she twisted cried out. Which earned her another smack- "Hold still" Greasy Hair said as he climbed on top of her and pulled at her shorts- Man 1 grabbed her shoulders and covered her mouth. She felt Greasy Hair run fingers down her flat abdomen, her muscles convulsing as she tried to avoid his touch. With a sneer, Man 1 pressed the cold metal to her collarbone. At the same time as she felt the first horrible stab of pain- she felt the wetness of the tears streaming down her face. After what seemed like hours- the men finally put her out of her misery. One more blow to the temple, and Emma fell once more into blissful unconsciousness.
Emma awoke, her arms tied behind her back. She was lying on the gritty soil of the Arizona desert, rocks pressing into her back. It was early dawn. The two men stood above her.
"Well, it looks like sleeping beauty woke up. You were a good little slut, but don't worry. You won't be telling anyone what happened here. We've got reputations, and well, you're just too pretty to let go. Joey here will take care of that." Greasy Hair turned and backed away. The man behind him pulled out a shiny black handgun. Emma gasped. These men were insane!
"No- please," she managed to croak out.
"This won't hurt at all, little whore." Emma heard the crack of the gun. As if in slow motion, she saw the bullet coming closer to her nose, twisting slowly, getting closer and closer. She felt all of her fear and confusion, anger and pain, bunch into a ball inside her chest, compressing. And just as the bullet was about to puncture her flesh, that ball inside her exploded, and she felt heat, like a volcano, explode out of her. There was a flash of light, and then nothing.
Daja shaded her eyes with the palm of her hand as she looked up into the glare of the noontime sun. She, Briar, Tris, and Sandry were walking to Discipline Cottage to pay a visit to Lark, Rosethorn, Pasco, Evvy, and the other young ambient mages who were being trained there. It was a hot Mead Moon midday, and the sun beat down unmercifully on the four's heads.
Gods, it's hot out here, came the thought from Briar. Even Chime was curled on Tris's neck, quiet. Tris looked at his from the corner of her eye. Well, maybe if you weren't carrying a BAG OF ROCKS it would be easier going for you. Sandry looked up from her study of a square of penchi silk that Briar had procured for her. Briar, I can take a few of those for you. Daja nodded. I can too. Don't be an idiot, Briar. Briar shook his head, splattering Daja with a few drops of sweat. She grimaced, wiped her arm with her hand, and smeared it on his sleeve. Watch where you're sweating.
"I don't need your help. I can carry this, no problem." Sandry grinned to herself. You just want to show off those skinny muscles of yours off to Lark's new assistant. What was her name? Oh right- Dedicate Iris. Briar huffed and hoisted his pack of rocks a little higher on his back. I'm just carrying these for Evvy. She'll like some of them. I picked up some of the Namornese rocks near the barrier we shattered. They've got a few traces of magic she'll have fun playing with. Sandry was astonished. You'll just go and give magic-saturated rocks to Evvy and assume she'll have fun?! Next time we come back, Evvy will have blown the house into pieces. Daja smiled at the two. Don't worry. I went with Briar here to Dedicate Catseye. She checked out the magic in them and said that it wasn't dangerous. It's a good exercise, for Evvy to practice taking apart the magic already set in a stone. The group rounded the corner in the path. Suddenly, there was a flare of bright light that blinded them. The ground rumbled for a second, and a blast of dry air washed over the group.
Tris coughed. That was certainly unexpected. What concerned her most, however, was the unfamiliarity of that wind. It was hot, dry, and like nothing she had felt before. She felt magic in it, dry and old, long forgotten, but still there. She cleared her spectacles of dust and looked at her companions. They were looking around. Tris sent tendrils of her magic into the air currents. Hold on. I'm checking things out, she said to her friends. Briar, Sandry, and Daja nodded. Her eager breeze returned to her, carrying an image. Tris's eyes widened when she saw what it was. A girl, lying in the grass off of the path about a hundred feet away. She was naked, cuts and scratches all over her body. She bled from all of them. Tris wasn't even sure that the girl was still alive. Without a word, she sent the mind-image to her friends. Daja first took action.
Briar, you go to Discipline. Bring Lark, Rosethorn, and Dedicate Iris with bandages and salves. Pasco and that other student- what's his name? Can bring a stretcher. Tris, could you please go back to Winding Circle to find healers? Sandry, stay with me. We'll watch the girl. Briar dropped his bag of rocks into the shrubbery on the side of the road. He nodded to Daja and set off running down the gravel path. Tris, without a word, rose on her platform of air and set out down the path, faster than anyone could have run. Daja nodded at Sandry.
"Come, let's hurry." The two young women set out for the girl. Making sure not to fall, Daja half-ran to the girl's position, pulling open her bag as she ran. The leather satchel at her side always carried a few necessities, like a small bottle of camphorated oil and soft cloths for cleaning her living metal creations. A few ounces of living metal pooled in a glass jar. Daja unstoppered her waterbottle and wet a cloth with it. Quickly she knelt beside the girl, tugging off her tunic and handing it to Sandry. Use this for bandages. Sandry set to work, separating the tunic into long strips with her magic and enhancing the weave with several patterns of healing magic. As Sandry worked, Daja cleaned the girl's numerous wounds and tried to stop the bleeding from her long cuts. She gently cleaned the bruises and checked the girl for broken bones. Two ribs seemed to be fractured, and her face was bruised with signs of a beating. Sandry handed Daja a length of bandage just as they heard voices at the road.
"Briar- where's the girl?" It was Rosethorn's voice, precise and clipped. Daja stood up and waved the group over. Lark bent over the girl, helping Sandry with the bandages. Rosethorn dribbled potions from two different bottles on the wounds and left Lark and Sandry to bandage the girl's cuts. Pasco and Daja lifted the girl onto the stretcher, and Pasco and the other young mage carefully negotiated the semi-rocky terrain to get back to the path. Once there, the group hurried as quickly as possible to Discipline cottage.
Tris managed to get two healers to join her on her airy platform to get back to Discipline. They carried their medicinal bags and clutched at Tris's shoulders. Tris shook off her annoyance and started out towards Discipline. Briar, Sandry, Daja, I'm heading back with Dedicates Nettle and Hollyrose.
The girl was laid down in Lark's bedroom. The girl shifted and moaned. Rosethorn pulled a vial from her pocket, uncorked it, and waved it under the girl's nose. The girl drifted back down into sleep.
"We wouldn't want her waking up and panicking. Sandry, run outside and see if the healers are here-" Tris's voice interrupted her.
"They're right here." The two healers, looking rather pale from their speedy flight with Tris, hurried to the girl's bedside. They set to work, and Daja and Sandry backed away from the bed. Rosethorn's clipped voice brought an end to the mayhem.
"Allright, everyone but the healers out." With a few mumblings, the room was soon clear of everyone but the healers and their patient. Briar and Daja set out down the road to retrieve his bag of rocks, and Sandry and Tris helped to set the mid-day table setting. Chime chirped as the young mages gleefully petted her and played with her. Daja opened the door with a flourish.
"Viynain Briar Moss comes bearing gifts for his lovely student, Stone Mage Evvy," She called out in a mockingly regal tune. Her eyes danced with fun, however, as Briar trudged in, sweaty and dirty, from the road. As he passed Daja, he gestured rather rudely to her with his hand. Daja grinned. Now now, not in front of the young ones. Dedicate Iris came forth to help Briar with his load. She smiled shyly at him as he "easily" lifted the bag onto the table. Oh- look, young love, called Tris wryly from the kitchen. Briar shot a glare at her and returned to helping Iris unload the pack's contents.
"Evvy, I brought these for you to experiment with, and to study. These gray slate ones are from Namorn. They've been inlaid with-" Daja tuned out the rest of the conversation as she went to the kitchen to see if she could do anything to help. Just as she stepped in, four pairs of busy hands pushed her out. Don't take it personally, Daja. It's just too crowded in here, explained Sandry as she helped push Daja out the door. She smiled sweetly at Daja before she turned and bustled off to help with the stew, or whatever was simmering in the pot. Without a word, Daja turned and climbed up the stairs to her old rooms. Not much had changed- the rooms were still rather simple, but the individual decorations were different. In what had to be Evvy's room, the floor was decorated with panels of stone, while pebbles were strewn around the floor and a large boulder sat nearby for use as a seat. A tortoiseshell cat purred from Evvy's bed, and several light-holding stones were hung from the ceiling. Daja entered and used the boulder to help herself onto the roof. She straddled the peak of the thatch, staring down at the scene around her. It was like the dream world in Briar's magic, the place where they had all gone once they had left Namorn for good.
Who was that girl, the one the group had found? She was battered physically, and Daja was sure that on the inside she was scarred as well. She had an idea of what had happened to her, but until the healers were done, she didn't really want to speculate. She had to be her age, or just a little younger. Her tanned skin had been scratched and bruised all over- her dark brown hair was matted with dirt. Her face had been puffy with tear streaks and bruises. Daja hoped that the girl would be all right. Hearing her name called broke Daja out of her reverie. She climbed back down and headed for the midday meal.
As they were eating, Niko walked in, having heard about the four's rather dramatic appearance at Discipline. The healers were still working with the girl in Lark's room. He nodded at the people at the table.
"Hello everyone. I heard about the girl's appearance. I wanted to make sure that all of you are alright- no magical residue harmed you?" Sandry shook her head.
"What do you mean? There was a flash of light- a few shakes, and the girl was there. Nothing happened after that." Niko nodded.
"Well, I was asked to check in on the source of the localized earthquakes. Apparently the girl was transported here. Now all I have to do is ask her who did it. It looks like she did it herself, but you never know. Is she awake?" Lark stood, her eyes flashing dangerously.
"Niko, you will not approach the girl. She is recovering- the healers aren't even done with her yet! I will stay and watch over her, and you will come back the way you came. When she is ready to answer questions, then we will send for you." Sandry, Briar, Tris, and Daja exchanged looks. This isn't going to be pretty, remarked Tris from the other side of the room. Niko bristled.
"Lark, this is a dangerous matter. What if attackers have sent her to be some kind of warning? This could herald dangerous comings. Will you endanger all Winding Circle?" Lark slowly, deliberately, placed her palms on the table top.
"I will not endanger Winding Circle, Niko. I am also not endangering the well-being of this child. She was raped, Niko. Raped. I know the signs of it- she'll wake up- and who knows what she'll do." Niko gripped the edge of a chair.
"Exactly! What will she do? Will she blow up Discipline? Will she do something that would kill us all?" Lark approached Niko, hands thrust out to push him out the door.
"Stop being so melodramatic, Niko! We'll ward the place, and let the girl rest. When she awakens, then she will tell us what she can in her own. Now leave- we'll let you know if anything happens." The older man allowed himself to go.
"I'd better hear from you soon," he called as he walked out the door. The room was silent as everyone else finished their meals. Afterwards, Sandry quietly asked the younger mages to do their chores while Daja, Tris, Briar, Lark, and Rosethorn went to sit in Lark's workroom. Just as they sat down, the two healers entered, looking exhausted.
"Dedicate Lark?" Asked one.
"Yes?" She answered. The woman squared her shoulders, and gratefully accepted a place to sit.
"Well, we've healed the girl, of her cuts and bruises. She had three fractured ribs and two hair-thin cracks in her skull. There was quite a bit of internal bleeding and infection- I'm glad that you brought us to her when you did, it may have gotten fatally worse if she wasn't treated properly. The shallow cuts we bandaged with spell-woven cloth, so please don't take them off until you have another on hand, just in case. She may wash with them on, just try your best not to get them wet. There is one thing I'd like to say, however. It was slightly difficult to work around her power-" Briar interrupted her.
"The girl has power?" The healer sighed and continued.
"Yes, she has power. And not the learned kind. She's an ambient mage-" Tris spoke up, causing the healer to start.
"How do you know?" The woman huffed, annoyed.
"Ever since you four arrived here, years ago, we've been taught to seek out ambient magics. In order to heal wounds, a healer has to avoid the patient's magic. And ambient magic is different from the learned stuff, so we've come to recognize it. Anyhow, we don't know what kind of ambient mage she is, just that she's very powerful, and very uncontrolled. She'd best find a teacher before all that power finds a destructive way out. I suggest that once she's conscious, she seek out the help of a teacher, or greater mage, and a mental healer. She was raped, and brutally beaten.
"When I did a quick foray into her mind to see if there was any damage, I saw an unfamiliar sky, and two men, one holding some sort of weapon. I believe that in her panic, she used her power, and transported herself away from the men- to here. When she wakes up, you may ask her, but I urge you to be cautious and considerate of her mental state, and don't push too hard. Try to find a mental healer soon, however. And I cannot stress the need to find a teacher for her as soon as she gets well- she has massive amounts of power. As much as one of you. And all of it is scattered and loose, and needs to be brought under control. We've done as much as we can, and I wish you luck. Would you like us to move her to the infirmary?" Lark shook her head as Rosethorn rummaged around, looking for something in a basket.
"She can stay here as long as she needs. Thank you for your help- Briar, will you escort the two healers back, please?" Briar nodded, but his reply was cut off by the other healer.
"It's alright. We'll walk on our own. Anyhow, there are a few places we need to stop at." Lark nodded. Rosethorn thrust a vial of liquid at each of the healers.
"Here. This will restore some of your power, and energy. Drink it all." The healers nodded gratefully at Rosethorn and quickly downed the potions. They said their goodbyes and headed out the door. Lark and Rosethorn quietly talked with the group of four, sharing stories and tales. Finally Sandry stood up.
"I'm sorry about the short notice, but I've got to go- Uncle needs me back in his estates to look over some reports he received," she said, brushing out her skirts. "It's been wonderful, seeing everyone again. But I really have to leave- state business." Lark nodded.
"We understand. See you soon, Sandry." With another round of hugs, Sandry swept out the door. Briar sat back.
"I was going to ask if I could stay with you tonight, but I figure you've got a bit on your hands tonight. Rosethorn, come with me for a walk in your garden," he said, standing and holding an arm out gallantly. Rosethorn snorted and brushed past him.
"Well, hurry up then," she said from the hallway. "Crane's come up with some new discovery or other, and he wants your opinion. It wasn't urgent, so I didn't bring it up." Briar grinned wryly at the three remaining women.
"Pushy, ain't she?" He ducked a clod of soil that Rosethorn threw.
"I heard that!" she called from the hallway. "Hurry up, why don't you? Time is wasting! The nerve of these young ones these days," she was heard to mutter as she stomped back in, grabbed Briar by the elbow, and dragged him back out. The door slammed, and the remainder of the group burst into laughter. After a few minutes, Tris stood.
"I've got to go- just because I'm on summer break from Lightsbridge doesn't mean that I don't have work to do. Lark, may I tell Niko what the healers told us?" Lark nodded.
"And apologize for me, Trisana, please. I suppose I overreacted." Tris shook her head.
"No, Master Niko was a bit of a mule too. And you have your reasons." Tris bade everyone else goodbye, then left the room, Chime cheeping sadly at having to leave all of her young friends. Daja looked at Lark.
"I'd like to stay with the girl before I leave. I've got time. Do you mind?" Lark shook her head.
"By all means, go ahead! I'll be working on making more bandages here. If you need anything, just call." Daja nodded her thanks and climbed up to the girl. She was wrapped up now- her bruises were gone, but a long bandage wrapped down the length of her forearm and around her hand. Silently Daja brushed the dark brown hair from the girl's cheek. The girl mumbled and twisted a bit. A glass of water sat on a bedside table, beside a pitcher. Daja sat down on the windowsill, looking out at the garden in it's summer extravagance. Briar and Rosethorn were walking there. Suddenly, at something Briar said, Rosethorn whacked him on the back of the head, and the young man took off running, only to fall flat into the compost pile when Rosethorn ordered her vines to trip him up. Daja laughed softly and turned back to the girl on the bed.
Her forehead was creased even in unconsciousness. She mumbled and her eyelids fluttered open, and she moaned softly in pain, or anguish. Daja went over to the bed, and at seeing another person the girl flinched away.
"It's alright," Daja said softly. The girl shook her head.
"Where am I? Where are the- the men who-" tears began to slide down her face as she remembered what happened. Daja sat herself on the bed and held the crying girl close.
"It's alright, it's alright- you're safe now," she murmured, and rocked the girl back and forth, as gently as she dared. Only when the girl's crying stopped did Daja slow. The girl was asleep. Daja silently padded out of the room in search of Lark.