Magechild
Chapter Seven
Terror exploded through Madea. Her magic was brimming so close to the surface; she could feel it beginning to erupt through the shreds of her self-control. She knew the templars would identify her as a mage and take her away, make her tranquil, as soon as they laid eyes on her. The pain from her abuse only made her fear a more primal and uncontrollable creature. It swelled in the pit of her stomach and clawed at her, burning her from within.
As soon as her assailant's attention turned from her she shrank against the far wall cowering into the corner as best she could. The room was dimly lit, but the shadows did little to aid her desperate attempt at disappearing.
The door slammed shut and she could hear the woman's voice as she screamed at her employees. They were to be more vigilant—the templars should never have made it here unannounced. The tenor of her speech had changed; the demon had receded back into its host.
She squeezed her eyes shut trying to bring back the demon's dream. She wanted to be anywhere else. She wanted to hear the sound of the ocean, feel the sand between her toes and see her father again. Still no matter how hard she tried there was no escape.
"Why?"
Her voice was hushed and broken from hours of screaming and pleading for an end the demon wouldn't give her. She barely recognized it.
If she hadn't been born this way, if she were just a normal girl she wouldn't be here right now. The demon would have no interest in her. Rage filled her and she smashed her fist against the wall, leaving a bloody smear on top of the myriad of others. "WHY ME?" she screamed in frustration. "Why did I have to be like this?"
"Be like what?"
She gasped in surprise. There was a boy coming through the window. She squinted, grimacing at the pain from an eye that was beginning to swell. It was the boy from the marketplace. The blonde hair and gray eyes were unmistakable. It was definitely him.
He recognized her too. "Bright eyes! What in Andraste's flaming knickers are you doing here?"
"Andraste's flaming knickers?" she repeated. She had never heard that particular exclamation before. She could almost taste the soap the attendants at the orphanage would have used to scrub her mouth out for such speech.
"Err, well yes. Seeing flaming knickers on the Maker's prophet would be pretty surprising. Don't you think?" he asked. He had darted to the doorway and cracked it open, peeking out into the hallway.
He had a point; that would be pretty shocking. The voices dimmed as he clicked the door shut and turned back to her. She watched concern etch itself on his face as he took in her appearance and she flinched as he approached. "What happened to you?" he asked.
OhI'vejustbeenknockedout,soldandbeaten.Torturedbyademon.Nothingmuch. The voice in her head was sarcastic, but she managed to bite back her tongue. He had done nothing to earn a snarky attitude from her. If anything she should be on her knees before him, thanking him for the food he had so freely given her.
He knelt before her and there was something soothing about his presence; something warm. His fingers brushed her bruised cheek and it was instinct that caused her to jerk away not fear. "I won't hurt you, I promise."
"Promises mean little to me," she replied, but her voice was not as harsh as it would have usually been.
He pursed his lips together in a way that made her to smile despite all the pain. "I can see why," he said. When he reached out this time she forced herself to stay still as his fingers pressed against her cheekbone. She winced but permitted it.
"It's not broken," he told her. When his diagnosis was met with a raised eyebrow he shrugged and his lips twitched into a grin. "I've learned a bit in my time, though I'm no healer."
His smile was contagious and she felt her lips twitch up in an answering grin before she could help it.
The sound of voices increased and he stood up again, dashing to the door nervously. "Come-on, we've gotta go."
"What?"
He grabbed her hand and ignored how she pulled against him. Dragging her to her feet he ushered her towards the door, "We need to get outta here."
"But I—" As much as she wanted to leave, where would she go? She had nowhere else to go. No place to belong.
"Look you can come willingly or unwillingly, but you're coming. I can't leave you hear after they did that to you." He gestured at her and she knew she was a sorry sight. Her clothes that had been ragged before were now bloodstained and torn. Her hair hung limp around her face. Even she wouldn't have stuck her neck out for someone as sad-looking as she.
His lips pursed in impatience but his eyes were still kind as he grabbed her arm and pulled her along. The hallway was empty and they hurried down its length as the voices from below grew louder. Many voice were emanating from what could only have been the main room and none of them were happy.
"YOU HAVE SOME NERVE COMING HERE LIKE THIS, SERAH!"
Madea shrunk back at the fury in the voice of her tormentor. She would never be able to forget the whispered threats and silky promises that voice had tempted her with. There was no forgetting the cackling laughter as her body had been subjected to the torture from a being that had done this many times before.
A tug on her hand brought her attention back to her new companion. "Come-on."
He urged her forward. He had been kind to her in the market but like all things kindness eventually ended. Still she wasn't any better off her. Either way she was betting on her life, but she was left with few other options.
"Bright eyes, let's go!" His voice was tense now. She let him take her hand and they ran down the hall towards the stairs. Her bare feet scuffed the floor and his grip on her hand was tight enough to bruise, but the moment she had laid her hand in his she knew she had given him something she swore not to give anyone again.
She could kick have kicked herself. This was going to come back and bite her, she just knew it.
She had given him her trust.
"YOU HAVE SOME NERVE COMING HERE LIKE THIS, SERAH!"
The Matron was beyond mad. Fury crept up her face like a wave, staining her cheeks as red as the rouge on her lips.
Cadhla had remained behind the Templars as requested and she exchanged a sly glance with Nathaniel. This was quickly getting out of hand. He smirked and his shoulders lifted infinitesimally in a shrug that said,So?Whatareyougoingtodoaboutit?
For the moment, nothing. She wasn't used to deferring control to others but she had given the Templar her word. So long as there was no threat to her people she would stand down.
"Madame, you are coming with us. There is no discussion." The Templar was calm but you could tell there was no negotiation.
"How dare you!" she screeched. "How dare you come into my place and assume to order me around! I demand you leave immediately!"
The Templar that had met with her last night stepped forward, "I am done asking—"
The woman threw her head back and cackled. "Asking? You stupid Templar! You have no power over me!"
There was enough time for Cadhla to think, Oh,crap!before a wave of magic threw them all like ragdolls. Inevergetenoughofthis, she thought sarcastically. A chair broke her fall and she broke Nathaniel's. Her breath rushed out of her leaving her gasping like a fish out of water.
Nathaniel leapt to his feet and yanked her up in one fluid motion. The movement allowed her to suck in a breath of air as she drew her twin blades. One Templar hadn't risen and from the odd angle at which his head was resting Cadhla knew he wouldn't be rising again.
"This has gone on quite long enough," she growled. A quick scan of the room revealed six shades. The woman had disappeared. They could not afford to let her get away. She met Nathaniel's eye, "You four take these; I'll go after her."
"Jin, you three take care of this. The commander and I are going after the Matron." Nathaniel wasn't letting her go after a powerful mage by herself.
"Up the stairs." Nathaniel knew what she was thinking. They skirted around the room as fast as they could, but the battle slowed them down. Every second they had to slide to a stop to avoid a shade's attack or dodge the errant backswing of Templar's swing increased the chance they would not find their mark.
"Go!" she commanded Nathaniel. She had been engaged by a shade and he paused to look back to her.
She hated these fade creatures. They were as nasty as the rooster that had tormented her as a child back in Highever and proved much harder to escape. Dispatching them always seemed to take longer than it should because just when she thought she had it the fiend would sink into the floor and then reappear moments later in an entirely new place.
When she finally dispatched it she dashed up the stairs only to collide with Nathaniel's back as she rounded the corner. "Maker's breath, Nathaniel! What in Andrast—"
The exclamation died on her lips. They had found their target, but she had found something too.
Oh,Bryce.She was going to ground him forever when they returned to Ferelden.Noquestions,nodiscussions.
"I believe I have something that belongs to you."
Cadhla pushed past Nathaniel with a snarl. No one threatened her family and lived. Her fingers twitched against the hilts of her blades, a fact that did not go unnoticed.
"Kindly remove your hands from your blades, human." The Matron's voice had changed to the silky drawl that pulled Cadhla back to her dizzying experiences in the fade.
"Kindly remove your hands from those children and I will be happy to oblige," she countered.
The demon was in no mood to negotiate. "I have been waiting since before you were born to have my chance with such a tasty morsel. You will not stop me now when I am so close!"
Cadhla felt sick as she watched the way the demon's gaze lingered on the girl in her grasp. The girl wasn't any older than Bryce and her hair and clothes were stained with blood. Bruises had bloomed across her arms and face and she looked like she could barely keep herself upright.
"You can call me Desire," the demon purred. "And if you do one little thing for me I'll be a nice demon and let you live."
Cadhla made herself hold her tongue. There was a way out of this but it did not involve making a deal with a demon.
Desire grew impatient. "Don't you want to hear what you have to do?"
"I don't deal with your kind, demon! I never have and I never will."
She looked amused. "So you have dealt with us before? Then you know that I'm really being very generous. The children are mine and I'll leave you with your life."
The pounding of steps up the stairs drew her attention for the briefest of moments and Cadhla took that attention to leap forward. Her momentum freed both children and sent her and the demon tumbling to the floor. She snapped her dagger against the demon's throat. "I told you, demon, I don't deal with your kind and that includes you."
"We will take it from here."
Cadhla rolled her eyes. The Templars certainly had impeccable timing. She leaned in, "I doubt you'll get the chance," she whispered with murder in her voice, "but if you ever lay a hand on them again I will kill you. I won't even hesitate."
She didn't wait for a reply she didn't want. She stood and two Templars took her place. Nathaniel had charge of Bryce and the girl.
The Templar captain that had arranged this messy charade nodded at her, "Your assistance was appreciated."
There was about as much gratitude in his voice as there was love for mages amongst his order. Normally it would have irritated her but with her task accomplished his appreciation or lack thereof mattered little to her. She simply nodded.
Without a backwards glance she turned towards the stairs. "She's possessed, Captain. Without telling you how to do your job I would suggest you deal with her immediately."
The last sound she heard as she descended the stairs was the demon screaming her outrage followed by the harsh rasp of a blade being drawn.
A murmured prayer, then nothing.