Disclaimer: I own nothing that belongs to Tamora Pierce...obviously. :)
A/N: Thank you to fuzzfurry, Numair's Angel, CrAzYhOrSeGiRl88, DarkJamAB, Simi, ArizonaBay, horseluver444, Stefen, Ceridwyn, elvenprinzcess, pauline, Elementalmoon, BloodRoseOTDemon, Whisper, Goddess of the Moon, setsuna-3000 and AnnaWeb. If I left someone out, I'm sorry!
I'm not very happy with this chapter, so if you hate it or you hate the story...well, then you hate it! :) Please excuse any wrong details. Or, if they're hideously, obviously wrong, please tell me so I don't keep doing it.
My exams start next Friday, but I'll try to write another chapter before then. They finish on the 21st June, so I probably won't be able to update very much until then. But I have three weeks holiday after that (yay!) which means I'll have time for shopping, sleep and fanfiction (I'm so addicted to reading them!).
And yes, poor Numair's going to get pretty jealous soon. I'm so mean. But don't worry, I'm pretty much obsessed with D/N as a couple, so I wouldn't break them up permanently. I have a plot kind of sorted out in my head, which is really unusual for me! Although things tend to make sense in my head, and then not when I try and write them down.
Not much fluff in this chapter. Will try to make up for it next time. :) (I'm sorry, I can't help it, I'm a fluff person!)
Catching sight of Alanna through the cluster of Sailan nobility, Daine headed toward her with Zek clutched firmly in her arms and Numair keeping close to her shoulder. As Thayet and Onua also came into view, she stopped in sheer surprise.
Halting quickly to avoid walking into her, Numair frowned. "What's wrong, magelet?" he asked, trying to follow her gaze.
"That's what I want to know," Daine returned, forehead creased in puzzlement. She lifted Zek gently back onto her shoulder, where he circled himself comfortably around her neck. "What's wrong with them?" She gestured toward their friends. "What are they looking at?"
The three women stood several yards away with identical expressions on their faces as they watched...something. A terribly amused Sir Tremain was blocking her view of whatever could make Alanna the Lioness gape like a bemused sea otter.
"I don't know," the much taller mage began, stretching to see. "Let's..."
Numair's voice broke off sharply, and his eyebrows shot up.
"What is it?" Daine asked curiously. "Numair?"
The sound of her voice seemed to break him from a reverie and Numair looked quickly at her, but words failed him.
Irritably, Daine surged forward. If there was trouble, she needed to know about it. She was a mage. She...suddenly had a very clear view of the "trouble", as the King's Champion moved aside.
Legs unconsciously hesitating in their confident stride, Daine froze several steps short of the Tortallan company...and the stranger silently commanding their attention.
Uncomfortably aware that her own face now mirrored the stupefaction of her friends, she nonetheless didn't seem able to do anything about it.
'Pretty,' said Zek blithely.
'Pretty' didn't do justice to the aloof young man by King Benjamin's side. His golden-hued curls and skin, emerald eyes and cocky stance wouldn't have been out of place in the Divine Realms. Almost as tall as Numair, he stood arrogantly with legs planted firmly apart and corded brown arms folded over a muscled chest. He was handsome, beautiful, striking.
However, while Daine registered those facts almost absently, they had nothing to do with her transfixed state.
There was only one reason why she was unable to look away from the newcomer - a reason that was blurring the hard angles of his body with a familiar copper glow.
The sheer force of the wild magic emanating from him almost pushed her back a step.
His vivid gaze met hers and the connection that sparked between them was almost tangible.
Daine didn't need to be told that she was looking at another Wild Mage.
Had she thought about a situation like this, she might have looked forward to feeling a familial bond with someone. The competitive streak that instantly vaulted through her blood, responding to the challenging glint in those green depths, was unexpected.
Raising her chin a notch, she stared coolly back, completely unaware that a heavy silence now cloaked the still courtyard and all eyes were on them.
Including those of the tense dark-haired figure beside her.
Thayet broke the sweltering quiet with a gentle cough, and Daine dragged her attention to the queen.
"Master Treylrawne," she said - as close to being uneasy as Daine had ever heard her, "This is our Wild Mage, Veralidaine Sarrasri, and our black robe mage, Numair Salmalin. Daine, Numair...this is the Sailan Isles' Wild Mage, Jardan Treylrawne."
Numair. Daine started and turned to look up at him. He gazed grimly back at her, refusing to return her apologetic smile.
When Alanna nudged her gently, she remembered the court manners that had been drilled into her several years ago. Turning, she bowed her head in an unenthusiastic but polite acknowledgement of the other Wild Mage.
Lips quirking satirically, Jardan reached for her hand to press a chaste salute to it, as they'd learned was the custom in the Isles.
Judging by his derisive look, Daine suspected that he'd rather kiss Zek than her.
As it turned out, he didn't have to kiss either of them. The instant that Jardan's hand touched hers, and their flesh made contact, a jolt of sizzling power shot through her and seemed to explode, physically lifting her from the ground and throwing her backwards.
Daine landed heavily, and lay, sprawled and stunned, on the paving stones. Gasping for breath, she lifted her head and saw - with subliminal satisfaction - Jardan struggling to a sitting position, briefly looking as taken aback as she, before astonishment was replaced by urbane calm.
There was a moment of shocked immobility, and then everyone and everything around her seemed to move at once.
Numair was on his knees beside her in a second, his large hands pulling her to a sitting position and stroking over her urgently, checking for damage.
"Sweet? Where does it hurt?"
"I'm fine," she tried to reassure him, but, still winded, was unable to speak. Reaching out, she squeezed his hand instead. He rubbed her fingers, and met her gaze, worry evident in his eyes. And, she noted - with what little amusement she could muster, having had the air knocked from her - a hint of intellectual curiosity.
Daine shared that curiosity. Nothing quite like that had ever happened to her before. Her body was still humming slightly from the sudden burst of power, but her head was clear and she wasn't in pain.
"Daine?" Alanna was hovering in concern, obviously prepared to use her healing Gift if necessary.
"I'm fine." She managed to force the words out this time.
Daine suddenly realised that Jardan was on his feet again, looking irritatingly unscathed, and she was still lolling on the ground - in front of two sets of royalty and an entire court of nobles.
"Odds bobs!" she muttered crossly. And then: "What in the name of the name of Mithros was that!"
She wasn't sure who she was talking to, but it was Numair that answered, rising and tugging her up gently.
"I've never seen anything like that before," he said, circumspection in his face as he glanced from his love to the impassive Jardan. "But apparently your magic objects to proximity."
Alanna, listening to this, hid a smile. Numair had made an admirable job of trying not to sound smug over that fact.
The black robe mage shrugged. "If you both possess roughly equal wild magic..."
Jardan's face lost its detached blankness, and he looked skeptical, raising doubtful brows at Daine's slight figure. She planted her hands on her hips and glared back, opening her mouth to argue.
Numair continued, in a louder tone: "...then together, your collective power is probably immense." He brightened slightly. "I wonder if there're any writings on it..."
Alanna shook her head in mock-despair. "Best not to let him near your books, Your Majesty," she said to King Benjamin, "We'd probably never see him again."
Numair glared at her but a reluctant smile tugged his lips in acknowledgment, and the King grinned, nodding.
"Oh yes. I've had great experience in trying to wrestle mages away from their studies."
"Raillenden's Elder, Daionarus, most oft has a book covering half his face," Queen Lijana agreed good-naturedly, "Why, once he..." She paused, interrupting herself. "Oh my, I'm sorry. Here I am going on as if you've been here forever instead of a few minutes! It feels like we know you all so well already and..."
"You're babbling, love," the King told his wife, his grin widening.
She pushed him gently, chidingly, and explained: "The Elders are Isorus of Zlarimorr, Daionarus of Raillenden and Lemerus of Aronyll. They're our most powerful mages, and act as instructors, mentors and advisors wherever they're needed. We heard much about all of you from the first Tortallan fleet, and the Elders are extremely interested to talk to you in particular, Master Salmalin. We sent word to Isorus and Lemerus when we received your messenger bird. They should be here in the next couple of days. Daionarus is currently on Zlarimorr also."
Numair nodded, absently stroking Daine's arm. "I look forward to speaking with them, Your Majesties."
"Perhaps the Elders will be able to offer an opinion on the strange...force between Mistress Sarrasri and myself," Jardan said neutrally, eying him. "Since you are unable to explain it, Master Salmalin."
Daine felt Numair stiffen slightly, and silently groaned. Casting aspersions on the mage's intellect and powers was the best way to ruffle his feathers. Well. That, or poking fun at his hair.
"You have no opinion yourself, Master Treylrawne?" Numair questioned coolly.
Jardan shrugged carelessly.
"We don't even know if it will happen every time I touch her, do we?"
Daine narrowed her eyes slightly, not liking the way that sounded.
"Shall we find out?"
Before anyone could react, Jardan reached out and clasped her left hand in his.
Darts of sensation ran up Daine's wrist, and her hand tingled curiously, but both mages remained on their feet.
"Interesting," he commented lightly, before turning her fingers to examine them. "Nice ring."
He glanced at it, and then at her, before turning to Numair.
"You have good taste."
Numair placed a possessive hand on Daine's waist, and nodded unsmilingly.
"I know."
Daine met Alanna's gaze and both women rolled their eyes.
Jardan turned his attention to her.
"Well," he said, cocking a brow, "Daine."
"Well. Jardan."
The other mage broke into a smile suddenly, revealing even white teeth. "You know, we have a species of shark called Daines."
"Really."
"Hmm. Breed around the northern bays of Zlarimorr. Feisty creatures. Lots of teeth and temper. Man-eating, actually."
"And?"
The frosty monosyllable caused Jardan's smile to widen.
"Just making conversation."
Daine - beyond caring that there was royalty observing the interaction with amusement - began to reply, before her attention was caught by the dark shadows emerging on the horizon.
"What's that?" she asked, pointing.
From the moment the words left her mouth, it was as if the world began to move faster. Heads turned to follow the direction of her finger and there was a deathly, eerie silence, before a noblewoman began to scream. It was a terrible, shrill, foreboding sound that made Daine want to clap her hands over her ears. Or slap the woman. The courtyard blurred into action as people either drew their weapons or ran shrieking for cover.
"What is it?" Alanna yelled over the noise, sword already brandished.
King Benjamin, face set, reached for his own sword. In an instant, he had been transformed from friendly, easy-going ruler to fierce warrior.
"Get inside the palace!" he roared at a group of hapless, hysterical maidservants. They scurried to follow his order, bumping into one another in their panic and adding to the growing chaos.
Jardan unsheathed a bronze sword with a metallic screech. He was pale, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on his face. Cocky arrogance was now experienced resignation. He looked from the ever-approaching shapes to the confused Tortallan faces.
"You have Stormwings in Tortall, yes?" he queried roughly.
Thayet, already in battle stance, nodded.
"Yes. But those...aren't Stormwings," she stated, her gaze focused on the sky.
"No," Jardan agreed heavily, "They aren't. Get ready for your first encounter with Blazewings."
Daine, bow in hand, reached for an arrow from her quiver. Her movements were tight and methodical; she was already in the mental state of war.
"Blazewings?"
She was still looking up, and as the first of the winged creatures came free of the sun's cover, she couldn't bite back a gasp.
With a feathered wing span of several yards, the beasts were enormous and terrifying in appearance. Their bodies were mottled red and black, sinewy and shining with blood. Unlike the Stormwings, their faces were animalistic and contorted with pain and hatred. Daine couldn't even say what animal they resembled, but the sight was...horrific.
They were close to the palace now - and then the noise began. A cacophony of pain and terror and death, it cut right through her, filling her ears and seeming to clog her nose and throat. Daine screamed aloud as agony exploded in her head, and ripped through her body. Her fingers loosened around her bow and she dropped it, clawing at her face and hair, just wanting the sound to stop.
Through the haze of wailing - both from the Blazewings and herself - Daine heard a voice, and wrenched her eyes open.
As if seen through a fog, Jardan's tortured face floated into her line of vision.
Straining, she made out his harsh, ironic words.
"Welcome to the Sailan Isles."