Description: The king contacts Daine and Numair about a powerful mage that has broken through the lines and is headed for Corus.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. Everything belongs to Tamora Pierce.

Author's Note: This chapter sets up for something which happens later in the story of critical importance.

Chapter 35

For five days the mages stayed at Summitview to help the villagers rebuild. While they were grateful for the assistance, the villagers were nervous of both mages, scattering when they walked past and drawing the Sign behind their backs. It aggravated Daine but the effect on Numair was far more worrisome. Every day that went by he became more withdrawn, unable to look anyone in the eye until she finally decided they were leaving to spare his sanity if nothing else. Thankfully her friend followed without any argument, lost somewhere in his memories, or maybe he'd finally realised that the village would recover on its own and he didn't need to put himself through this torture. That night Numair didn't voice a single objection when she crawled into his bedroll, merely wrapped his arms around her and wished her goodnight.

Their next call to arms came barely a day later when the king contacted them about a village that had been attacked by bloodthirsty centaurs with women and horses having been taken. This set the course for the next six weeks as the mages were driven at a relentless pace, often through the night, to fight Immortals and Scanran raiders. Between Numair's Gift and Daine's wild magic, the pair managed to deal with each situation in turn often with Kitten adding her own brand of magical assistance with the new abilities she'd started to demonstrate thanks to the mage's instructions. The dragonet was getting very skilled with her whistles: able to burn through ropes, rust metal and even shatter bone.

Whenever they were allowed a moment's rest, Daine joined Numair in his bedroll. Either he was too tired to protest, or he appreciated her company while Daine got to enjoy falling asleep surrounded by his scent and held in the circle of his arms, but the most important part was that he slept without any nightmares.

One bright, sunny morning, Daine woke alone in the bedroll with only Zek and Kitten for company to find Numair sat in front of the fire speaking softly into his mirror.

"…safe to talk?" That was the king's voice.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Numair responded with a bow of his head.

"I just received very disturbing news that a powerful mage has broken through our lines and is headed for Corus with a raiding party of soldiers," Jon informed him. "I must ask you to intercept him before they cross the Grimhold Mountains."

"Who is this mage?"

"His name is Inar Hadensra," the king answered gravely.

Numair sighed and rubbed his temples. "I know of him. He could have been a black robe mage like me."

"He will tear through Tortall unless he's stopped. Can I count on you?" Jon sounded hopeful even through the mirror.

"Where is he now?"

"Half a day's ride from your location. Sir Raoul and Third Company are on their way to meet you now," the king replied.

"Knights are no match for someone like Inar Hadensra." Numair shook his head.

"That's why I contacted you." Jon almost sounded like he was pleading which must mean this enemy mage was bad news, especially if he could be as powerful as Numair.

Her friend sighed wearily, scrubbing a hand through his greasy, unkempt hair. Too many nights with only a few hours' sleep and the constant use of his Gift had given him creases at the corners of his eyes and around his full, sensitive mouth. "Once Daine is awake, I'll see if she's willing to scout ahead and guide the knights to our location so we can form some sort of plan for dealing with Hadensra –"

"I'm awake now," she interrupted, sitting up.

Numair twisted to look at her, his cheeks colouring when he laid eyes on her. Daine was pretty sure she must look a mess: hair in a state of disarray or maybe it was the fact that they'd shared a bedroll again which had him blushing.

"Good morning. I'm sorry to disturb your rest," Jon raised his voice.

Crawling out of the bedroll, leaving Kitten and Zek, Daine came to sit beside Numair, pressing into his side. "Did I hear right: there's some powerful mage that's headed our way?"

"That's correct, I'm sorry. You both look exhausted," the king apologised.

Despite her morning grumpiness, Daine forced herself to smile in what she hoped looked reassuring. She felt worn out and her clothes had started to hang off her already thin frame. Neither mage had eaten properly in weeks, surviving on whatever they could eat in a few mouthfuls. King Jonathan looked equally worse for wear with a few white strands in his black hair and dark circles under his eyes. "We'll set him to rights, Majesty."

Jon smiled in gratitude. "Mithros watch over you both." With that the image of the king vanished leaving only the mages' reflections in the mirror.

"You can deal with him, right?" Daine bumped her shoulder against her friend, stifling a yawn.

Numair replaced the mirror in his belt pouch and set a pan of water to boil not answering her question.

"Numair?"

"I'll fight him," he responded, voice distracted while he hunted through his pack for the teapot.

"That's not what I asked." Her brows furrowed in concern. "Can you beat him?"

"We'll see," Numair muttered, finally succeeding in finding the teapot and began to fill it with the last of their water.

Behind them Kitten and Zek began to stir as Daine scowled at her friend, jabbing a finger into his arm. "What's that s'posed to mean?"

"It means I haven't come up against a mage of his calibre before, so... we'll see."

She sat watching while he poured the oats into the pan and added a pinch of salt. Numair was in one of his brown studies which was bordering on brooding. Huffing at his foolishness, Daine retrieved their bowls, mugs and spoons from another bag. "Well, I've the griffin arrows I can –"

"NO!" he snapped, outraged. "Under no circumstances are you to go anywhere near Hadensra. None! Do you understand me?"

Daine went very still, regarding her friend's furious face and feeling her own temper rise at his outburst. Numair rarely got angry unless her life was in danger. "You're afraid you can't win," she stated in a surprisingly calm voice. It had never occurred to her before that there could be someone more powerful than Numair.

His dark eyes were intent on hers. "It's a very real possibility. I'm not a war mage. I was sent to kill innocents but never to fight against someone who could match my power. Inar Hadensra has been taught to fight and with the turbulent nature of Scanran politics, he will have had far more practice than I. A study on the fall of ancient civilisations hardly makes me an expert tactician. I'm better suited to a game of chess where I can take my time to calculate the possibilities."

"Mayhap Lord Raoul can come up with some sort of strategy." She shrugged.

"The better option would be for me to lure Hadensra away, leaving you and the knights to deal with the soldiers." He sighed.

"Leaving you alone? I think not!" Daine scowled.

Numair paused midway to stirring the porridge. "This won't be like Carthak, Daine. I'm wise to your tricks now, and I know how that stubborn mind of yours works."

"Then you'll know how pointless it is to send me away!" She folded her arms, raising her chin defiantly.

The mages glared at each other, neither refusing to budge until a forlorn chirp from Kitten broke the tension, the dragonet looking between her humans not liking the animosity.

"I'm going to scout the area and see if I can spot Third Company." Daine stood crossly, shapeshifting into a hawk and letting her clothes fall away.

Launching herself into the sky, the Wildmage flapped her wings hard to gain height until she located a thermal. Let the stupid man think what he would. She was wise to his tricks too and Daine wasn't about to let him to stuff her in a relatively safe corner or knock her out again. Whether Numair liked it or not, she would find a way to fight by his side with or without his consent.

Kitten watched her adopted mother fly away before crawling into Numair's lap, seeking comfort and reassurance.

"We're not really fighting, sweetling." He scratched the dragonet under her chin. "Daine wants to protect me as much as I want to protect her. We're both guilty of trying to cosset the other in order to protect them instead of fighting side by side." Numair grabbed his friend's shirt and began to fold her clothing into a neat pile. "If I've learned anything over these past few months, it's that we work better together – all of us – than apart."

Kitten chirped and whistled up at him, adding in her own opinion.

"It means accepting her help with Hadensra, which I'm reluctant to do, but if I don't accept her help, she'll show up anyway and an unexpected arrival could tip the scales to Hadensra's advantage." He sighed heavily, rubbing a finger along the length of his nose.

The dragonet squawked, pointing to herself with a silver claw while she scolded the man.

"Yes, I know you want to help too." Numair smiled, stroking a hand over her scales affectionately. "Actually, I have a favour to ask of you – of all of you in fact." He looked around, addressing the entire group.

Kitten tilted her head, giving him a curious chirp as Zek jumped onto his knee while the horses watched silently chewing on mouthfuls of grass.

Numair swallowed knowing that any request he made could easily be passed back to Daine without his knowledge, but this possibility had been niggling at the back of his mind for months and it was only getting worse. "I'm worried Daine will try to go after the focus that controls me. I know she's been looking for ways to retrieve it, and I fear that if she spots Ozorne, she'll go after him and attempt to steal it. He carries it on his person, and I cannot bear the thought of her taking such a risk for me."

Cloud snorted and shook her mane which could mean all manner of things without his Wildmage there to translate.

"I want you to stop her, or at least make her reconsider. The further north we go, the more afraid I am of accidentally running into him. If Ozorne takes control of me…" Numair shuddered uncontrollably before fixing the horses with a resolute stare. "Get her away from me. Far away! And do whatever you believe is necessary to stop me. I fully condone biting, kicking or crippling me to do it."

Taking a shaky breath he gave the porridge a stir, noticing that his hands were trembling. A gentle tug on his shirt had him glancing over towards Kitten who sat on her haunches staring at him with earnest slit-pupiled eyes. She chirped, whistled and gestured while Numair gave the dragonet his full attention trying to decipher what she was asking.

"You mean can you get close and destroy it?" He frowned, hoping he'd misinterpreted.

Kitten whistled an affirmative, nodding her head emphatically before demonstrating one of her whistles to incinerate a nearby twig.

"No, if you destroy the focus without first removing the spell that binds me to it then you will burn me alive," Numair informed her. "It's a simple enough spell to undo, but it must be done while in contact with the focus."

The dragonet nudged him with her snout and chattered.

"Show you?" This, he realised belatedly, had been a stupid thing to ask and far worse than Daine believing she could rescue him.

Kitten nodded, sitting up straighter to puff out her chest.

"No," Numair responded darkly, watching her deflate. "Not because I don't think you can learn the spell but because it will only encourage you to go after the focus. Ozorne is too dangerous and too well protected. I won't have any of you put yourselves in that sort of danger!"

The dragonet hissed and bit his hand with her sharp little teeth making him yelp in shock. It was more of a nip than a true bite as she hadn't broken the skin, but it still hurt! "That is not appropriate behaviour, young lady!"

Kitten chirped sadly, her scales turning grey while she curled up into a ball and sulked.

Rubbing his hand the mage sighed. "If I show you the spell, will you promise me that you won't go after it yourself?"

The dragonet's scales instantly turned back to their regular blue-gold colouring as she sat up and considered this. Numair often wondered if Kitten could change the colour of her scales deliberately and not just as an unconscious display of her mood. The colour change was sometimes just a little too fast to appear natural. With a grumbled nod, she agreed to his stipulation.

Plucking a single strand of a hair from his head, Numair held it out in front of her, slowly weaving the spell to bind himself to it before handing the strand to the dragonet. "Can you sense the spell?"

Kitten stared at it with her slit-pupiled eyes, going through a full range of whistles and clicks while Zek approached to sniff the hair curiously.

The mage gave her a full minute before taking the strand back. "To remove the spell..." He used his Gift to break the connection before handing it back. "Can you feel the difference?"

Kitten sniffed and examined the strand before chirping and nodding. Zek tilted his tiny head in confusion, squeaking at the man.

"You try," Numair suggested while he stroked the marmoset with a finger. Daine had informed him that the People had the ability to see the fire inside a mage but that didn't mean they would be able to see or sense spells in the same way an Immortal could.

It took several attempts before Kitten successfully recreated the spell and removed it. Numair made her do it three times before the smell of burning reached his nose. Swearing profusely, he removed the pan from the fire which now contained a mostly charred inedible mess. Annoyingly Daine chose that precise moment to return not giving him a chance to dispose of the evidence or get a new pan on for breakfast.

"Why weren't you keeping an eye on him?" the Wildmage admonished Kitten, standing there completely naked with her hands on her hips. "You know how he gets when he's distracted."

The dragonet squawked and chattered in her own defence while Numair averted his eyes, blushing. Daine was sometimes too comfortable in nothing but her skin. While he admired his friend's self-confidence, or perhaps her indifference, he could not feign the same neutrality to her state of undress. Grabbing the pan and their water canteens, Numair made a quick exit. Thankfully when he returned, Daine was fully dressed and cooking a pan of eggs over the fire.

"Any sign of the knights?" he asked, taking a seat beside her.

"I found them but they're a bit too far off to guide yet," she responded, sparing him only a cursory glance. "I'll shapeshift again after breakfast and bring them here. I thought about scouting out this enemy mage and his soldiers, but I knew you'd have a tantrum if I did."

Numair swallowed down his immediate reaction to that statement, noting the dark expression and deep furrow between her eyebrows. "I thought about what you said…"

"And?" She glared, daring him to say something stupid.

"I would be foolish to refuse your help, if –" He held up a finger to waylay her triumphant retort "– we do things my way."

"And what way would that be?" Daine narrowed her eyes at him.

"You stay within a protection circle while I duel Hadensra –"

"You're still trying to tuck me away in some safe corner!" she cried in outrage. "I am perfectly capable of fighting –"

"When we were closing the portals, I didn't object to staying within a protection circle while you, Kitten and the horses protected me," he cut in softly. "I am asking for the same concession."

Daine bit her lip fuming silently, but Numair knew he'd found the correct avenue of attack. "Fine!"

"I will duel with Hadensra and try to create an opening for you to shoot him with one of the griffin arrows," he continued. "If possible, I will attempt to lock us into a power struggle which means all of his attention will be centred on me."

"How will I know when to shoot? It's not like you can yell 'now' or anything." She scowled, folding her arms under her breasts which emphasised them a little too well.

Numair considered and dismissed several ideas. "What if I stamp my foot?"

"All right." Daine nodded, serving them up a portion of scrambled eggs on toast.

The atmosphere was decidedly less hostile while they ate. His young friend might not be happy about the specifics of their upcoming fight, but he wasn't sending her away.

After breakfast, Numair washed up while Daine went to retrieve Third Company. She was gone for almost an hour when the thunder of hooves announced the arrival of The Own. Swooping down from the sky, the Wildmage collected her clothes before darting behind a tree as at least one hundred knights on horseback rode into camp. Their silver armour shone brightly over the blue tunics with chain mail jingling underneath. Numair stood, partly in greeting but mostly in fear of being trampled by the very large warhorses. Zek, screeching in terror at his feet, raced up his body to cling to his shoulder while Kitten rose onto her haunches to whistle happily.

A muscular man, an inch shorter than Numair, with close-cropped curly black hair and a broad face dismounted from his black warhorse. He was joined by a stocky, fair-skinned young man with red-brown curling hair, brown eyes set under thin eyebrows, and a small nose and lips. The taller of the pair introduced himself as Raoul of Goldenlake and the shorter as his second-in-command, Captain Flyndan Whiteford. Daine emerged from behind a tree to greet the Knight Commander while he and the captain joined the mages around their fire. The rest of the knights remained on horseback, breaking out rations and drinking from water canteens. There were so few chances to rest and eat that it appeared Daine and Numair weren't the only ones to take every opportunity when it presented itself.

"I hear you two have been doing the work of two Rider groups." The jovial smile Raoul aimed at the young woman spoke of a familiarity between them.

"We've been defending the kingdom just like everyone else." Daine shrugged.

"The king was very taken with your suggestion of working with the Immortals instead of just fighting 'em. We've got centaurs and ogres on our side now, including those Stormwings you recruited." The Knight Commander shook his head in disbelief. "We might actually win this thing with a bit of luck."

"So long as we can defeat this Inar Hadensra and his men. What can you tell us about the Scanran mage?" Flyndan aimed his question at Numair.

"He's an incredibly powerful shaman-mage who answers to the Council of Ten," the mage replied. "Hadensra willingly sacrificed his left eye to gain more power and, in its place, sits a ruby. If he's headed for Corus, then he means to take it no matter how many lives it costs."

"Do you have a plan for defeating him?" Raoul asked.

The mages exchanged a look before Daine answered. "Numair'n me will draw him out so you can deal with the rest of his forces."

The Knight Commander brought out his map to lay it on the ground before them. "There's a pass five miles from here." He tapped on a section of the map. "If we split the company, we can trap 'em there. Take five squads and position yourselves for an ambush." Raoul aimed this last part at his second-in-command.

"Where will you be?" Flyndan inquired.

"I'll take the standard-bearer and drive the enemy to you." Raoul drew his finger along the map, tracing the route. "Are there any more mages with the raiders?" He looked between the mages for confirmation.

Numair closed his eyes and sent out his Gift. "There are two mages besides Hadensra."

The Knight Commander scowled. "That might complicate matters if we don't have another mage with us."

"Use these." Daine reached over to grab her quiver from where it rested, taking out seven arrows with brightly coloured feathers, half her supply. "These are fletched with griffin feathers. They're mage killers. Give them to your best archer."

Flyndan accepted the arrows, gaping at the young woman in surprise. "Where did you get griffin fletched arrows?"

"The feathers were a gift from the griffins nesting near Buzzard Rocks," Daine replied earnestly.

"You're always full of surprises." Raoul grinned at her before addressing his second-in-command. "Move out, Captain."

"Understood, sir." Captain Flydan rose to remount his horse, barking orders at the knights. Within minutes half of The King's Own rode off into the trees in another thunder of hooves.

"What's your strategy for drawing out Hadensra?" Raoul frowned.

Numair licked his lips nervously. He hadn't discussed this part with Daine and doubted she'd approve of his idea. "I think I can trick him into coming to us." When the other two said nothing, the mage created a muffling spell around them to block out the sounds of the knights and their horses. Holding up a hand, he summoned the black sparkling fire of his Gift and created a speech spell.

"Who is this?" a harsh voice demanded.

"My name is Arram Draper, Nobility." Numair bowed his head instinctively. "Might this unworthy one have a private word with you?" It was uncomfortable to return to slave-speak and from the look on Daine's face, she was even less happy about it.

"Draper? So, Ozorne was correct; his pet did survive," Hadensra sneered. "Why should I waste my time with the likes of you?"

"Please, Nobility," Numair begged. "This unworthy one wishes to speak with you about the possibility of returning to my master's side. I was wrong to betray him. My life has been a torment ever since I left. Tortall is cold, wet and cruel. Please would you allow this unworthy one to join you and prove my worth to my master that he may consider taking me back into his service?"

"Join my army at the base of the mountains and I will consider your request," came the cold reply.

"No, please, Nobility." With an ease of practice, Numair filled his voice with fear. "This unworthy one wishes only to speak with you."

There were several nerve-racking beats of silence while Hadensra considered this request. It was possible he'd overplayed his hand. No slave would normally have the audacity to ask anything of a master. "Very well. But I warn you, Draper; no tricks."

Numair let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and ended both spells. "He will come, if only to see me beg and grovel," he confirmed, finally meeting their eyes.

The Knight Commander was assessing him warily but nodded in acceptance.

"Did you have to pretend you wanted to return to the emperor?" Daine complained.

Numair reached over to squeeze her wrist, offering an apologetic smile. "It was a plausible explanation. Sometimes, a person freed from incarnation doesn't know how to survive in the world and returning to what they know seems preferable. Personally, I would rather sleep in the frigid glaciers of the north than serve Ozorne again, but Hadensra will believe I am broken and pathetic enough to want to return."

Daine scowled and shifted unhappily, apparently not comfortable with the idea that a slave would choose to remain with or return to a master until she left the men to finish their plans. Numair watched her go hoping his friend wasn't doubting the sincerity of his words. He really would rather die than return to Ozorne's side.