Description: Numair reveals to Daine what happened in the Siraj massacre.

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

Warning: Please be advised some readers may be affected by the themes and topics discussed in this chapter.

Author's Note: There's no quick fix for someone who has PTSD. I'm not planning on going years into the future with this story, but this is something Numair will have to live and cope with all his life. Again, thank you to Vika9 for all your advice on this subject!

"They're exactly what I want for those Sirajit dogs who killed my father. Stormwings would tear their warriors to bits and throw the pieces into Siraj's stinking villages." ~ Ozorne Tasikhe, Tempests and Slaughter.

Chapter 34

Over the next few weeks, the mages were sent to deal with ogre problems in Ivybridge and winged apes roosting at Fief Trebond. To Numair's intense relief both species could be reasoned with, and a peaceful solution was negotiated in each situation without any needless violence. It required a rather long-winded discussion with the ogres to explain the misunderstanding over the theft of the ploughs while Daine was able to speak with the winged apes about their nesting arrangements. While he knew not all situations could be resolved without violence, it was nice to think that it wasn't the only option.

It was nearing the end of May when the Scanran raids increased in their frequency and severity that the mages were called north to help deal with them. Rikash and his Stormwings were providing extremely useful intelligence when they weren't engaged in their own squabbles with Ozorne's Immortal allies that the Tortallans had been managing to keep the enemy at bay until now. The Scanrans were currently engaged in guerilla warfare, attacking villages and towns then disappearing back into the mountains which the Rider groups were struggling to keep on top of. Even the king himself had relocated to Fort Steadfast on the border to fight alongside his forces.

The mages rode throughout the night when an urgent call came to help the village of Summitview near the City of the Gods. It was a sensible avenue of attack because no one could scry in the area in a five-hundred-mile radius due to the magical aura that extended from the ancient place of learning.

The smell of burning hit Numair before they'd even reached the village. Everywhere was chaos with people rushing about attempting to put out the fires while others cried over the loss of their possessions or trapped loved ones. Daine dismounted before Cloud had even stopped and rushed over to the first person to ask how they could help.

All the mage could see were burnt corpses lying on the sand while the sound of screaming and wailing overwhelmed his senses. The heat from the fires and the desert sun scorched his bare skin. A short way off, a young boy stood crying for his mama and clinging to his stuffed bear as the mage felt his body move of its own accord, drifting closer to the child. He was so sick of it all: the death, the destruction… He didn't want to kill anymore. The poor boy didn't deserve to die just because he'd been born Sirajit. Extending one hand towards the child, feeling tears slide down his cheeks, the mage drew on his Gift…

"Numair!"

Numair?

"Numair, help them!"

…Daine?

He turned in confusion to see his friend exiting a burning building with her arm around an elderly woman. How was she here?

A man took charge of the elderly woman as Daine dashed to his side and grabbed his arms. "Can you put out the fires?"

At the sudden contact of her small hands, the nightmare of Siraj seemed to dissolve around him reforming into a different sort of burning nightmare. Looking again at the child, Numair recoiled sharply almost vomiting at the thought of what he'd been about to do. The boy wasn't Sirajit. He had blonde hair and pale skin typical of a northerner. What was wrong with him?!

Daine cupped his cheek and forced him to look at her. "You still with me?"

"Yes." Numair gasped, struggling to regain his sanity while he trembled violently, focusing on those enchanting blue-grey eyes. "I'm with you." He covered her hand with his, clinging to his lifeline. "I can put out the fires."

She studied his face closely before nodding in satisfaction. "Let's help these people."

Those words were like a balm over his painful memories. He could help!

Taking several measured breaths, the mage sent his Gift deep into the earth locating the water plate hundreds of miles beneath his feet. Carefully he wrote the spell-signs with his Gift to draw up a column of water. People began screaming when the earth rumbled but Numair shut them out, focussed entirely on his spell. A fountain of water shot into the air to tower high above the buildings as Numair carefully split the stream in half, half again, then one final time until he had eight spouts of water. Directing each jet at a building, the mage doused the flames before targeting another. In under ten minutes the fires were out leaving the smoking remains of damp wood. With the greatest of care, he drew his columns of water back together before sealing it back into the earth. For a moment, no one spoke or even moved, staring open-mouthed at him before, on some unconscious signal, the villagers returned to what they'd been doing. Despite all the fearful faces regarding him, Numair focussed only on Daine, taking comfort and strength from the fierce pride shining in her eyes.

Over the next few gruelling hours, he used his Gift to lift fallen beams to help free trapped villagers or to retrieve dead bodies. The raiders had hit hard and fast with blasting powder, destroying the granary, blacksmiths and barns. Numair suspected they had targeted the food sources and blacksmiths so they couldn't supply the Tortallan soldiers with food or weapons. He was trembling uncontrollably by time the Daine found him and tried to get him to eat and drink. The water he accepted gratefully but even the sight of food turned his stomach.

"We need to find the ones that did this!" She looked out darkly at the destruction.

"They might not be too difficult to find," he admitted softly.

"How so? They've over half a day's head start." Daine turned to scowl at him.

"We can hope that the raiders are feeling overconfident and not as well hidden due to the northeastern border appearing opaque to magical vision," Numair explained, taking another sip of water from the canteen. "They won't be expecting a mage of your abilities to hunt them out."

The Wildmage observed him carefully for a minute before nodding. "Can you watch my body for a while? I'll ask around and see if anyone's seen them."

"You don't want to take bird-shape and search yourself?" he asked, a little surprised.

"I will once we've a direction to head in." That was, of course, the most sensible option.

Numair stayed by her side for an hour while she searched, sitting quietly and taking comfort from her nearness. Daine was getting better at remaining human while connecting with another animal's mind. The changes were only slight now; however, he was able to identify at least three of the animals she spoke with. The horses came to join them, grazing nearby while Kitten and Zek played a game of hide and seek.

"Found them." Daine opened her eyes. "They're camped a day's ride from here up in the mountains."

Numair stood and dusted off his breeches before offering her a hand up. "I take it you'd like to leave immediately?"

"They look pretty settled where they are but I'd druther they not get any more ideas about attacking another village," she stated grimly, walking over to Cloud.

"I'll inform the headman we're moving out," he said, retrieving Zek from his hiding place and setting the pygmy marmoset on his shoulder.

The mages rode until it got dark, finding an overhang amongst the rocks where they could make camp. While Daine connected with the local wolf pack to check that their quarry hadn't moved, Numair cooked dinner with Kitten's help. After they'd eaten, both mages and the dragonet curled up to stargaze for a few hours until Daine crawled into her bedroll to sleep. Numair resisted for as long as he could but eventually the exhaustion became impossible to ignore.

He'd only been asleep for two hours when he inevitably woke screaming and sweating from a nightmare. Daine was awake instantly, grabbing her bow until she realised there was no danger, and scrambled over to him. There were lines that shouldn't be crossed between a teacher and his student but when she flung her arms around his neck and pressed her body again his, Numair wasn't thinking. He pulled her tight against him, pressing his face into her neck to breathe in her reassuring scent, grateful that Daine didn't pull away. She just continued to stroke his hair and mutter soothing words until his trembling subsided.

When he finally registered her words, Numair discovered she was speaking about the traumatic events surrounding the death of her family: how she'd gone mad, running on all fours with a wolf pack to hunt down the bandits, and that her mother's former lover had attempted to lure her out so the villagers could kill her mercifully. Numair wasn't sure why she was telling him all this now unless it was her way of telling him she understood. That he wasn't the only one to be called a monster (not that he remembered screaming that). The difference between them was that Daine had killed the bandits out of revenge for something they'd done before freeing their prisoners whereas he had slaughtered men, women and children whose only crime was to be born Sirajit.

"Could you sleep beside me tonight?" Numair mumbled, hating himself. "I'm sorry to ask, but I just need to feel someone who's alive."

He moved away just enough to see her reaction to his request and wasn't quite prepared to deal with the delighted smile on her face as she crawled into his bedroll without reservation. Moments later Kitten joined them, curling up on his legs while Zek jumped up to settle against the crook of his neck. Numair swallowed around the lump in his throat when animals of all shapes and sizes melted out of the darkness to surround them, tucking in close.

"Better?" Daine beamed up at him, eyes sparkling in the starlight.

"Perfect," he murmured, placing a tender kiss on her forehead.

It was a relief to wake up the next morning to discover he'd slept without returning to his night terrors. Daine was happily snuggled up against his chest, nose buried into his chest hair with one arm wrapped around his waist as if she belonged there. Stroking a hand through her messy curls, Numair smiled softly and kissed the top of her head, content to lie there despite the fact he had a completely dead arm. He really should move away but he couldn't even if he'd wanted to.

Numair wasn't sure if more animals had joined them during the night, but their campsite was filled with predators and prey who all slept together without a care in the world. Daine could do this for him: provide moments of peace and tranquillity where the troubles of the world ceased to matter.

"You aren't a monster, sweetling. Not like me," he whispered. "You're different and misunderstood but you've never done anything truly evil." Numair closed his eyes and pressed another kiss against her hair. "You asked me to talk to someone about what happened in Siraj. As it can only be narrowed down to a choice between you or Lindhall then I would rather tell you, not because I believe you would understand any better, but because you deserve to know the heinous person you have befriended.

I am the Black Robe Monster of Siraj. The man who walked into their villages and towns to slaughter every man, woman and child. Ozorne didn't send me to fight with the other soldiers – it wasn't necessary. The army could deal with renegades as easily as any mage. No… I was sent to destroy their hope, their future and their reason to fight.

I walked into those villages where the people were doing nothing except living ordinary lives. They weren't a threat to the empire. Those people weren't fighters. They were elderly men and women doing laundry, cooking and cleaning their homes. Mothers raising their children, providing food, comfort and discipline… And youngsters who enjoyed playing games, running wild and having fun. That was until I showed up."

The tears were falling now as he spoke. Numair wasn't sure at what point Daine had woken up, but he could feel her listening intently by the way her hand tightened on his shirt.

"They didn't stand a chance. My power – my Gift – erased them all. If I killed the children first to spare them the pain of losing a parent or grandparent, then their guardians wailed in despair and heartache. If I killed the adults first, then the children screamed and ran in panic, or they sat beside their mothers begging them to get back up. I killed…" He choked on the words but forced himself to speak them. "I killed babies – infants in their cribs. All because Ozorne feared that one day they would grow into warriors and would seek retribution for their families and their country.

It wasn't just one village where I did this. It was countless villages until all I could see were dead bodies and the silence was deafening. I begged Ozorne to kill me. I couldn't live with what I'd done, but he just laughed and praised me on my 'good' service to the empire. He wouldn't even allow me to take the Black God's Option. That was when the shackles were created, so that I couldn't use my Gift to harm myself or destroy him. I was the emperor's pet from that moment on: vicious, deadly and unquestionably loyal.

It took years until Lindhall was able to help me escape the madness. To this day, I still don't know why he continued to care for me. When the Graveyard Hag promised me revenge, it wasn't difficult to swear myself to her service. Until you arrived in Carthak, my only purpose was to thwart Ozorne, whether that was by building a resistance with Prince Kaddar, freeing slaves, or ruining my master's plans for world domination. I lived only to see his downfall before finally ending my own miserable existence."

"I'm glad you didn't kill yourself," Daine whispered, tightening her grip.

Numair swallowed against the sudden wave of nausea. Talking had not made him feel any better despite what she believed. It just reminded him of all the reasons he hated himself. Pretending to be Numair Salmalín these past eight months, living a comfortable life and making friends felt like a betrayal of all those lives he'd destroyed.

"I wouldn't blame you if you hated me or you never wished to see me again." His arms felt leaden as he released her from his embrace to flee if she needed.

"You never did all those things by your own choice though." Daine looked up at him, eyes devoid of the condemnation and revulsion that should be there. "It was Ozorne controlling you with the focus, wasn't it?"

A poor excuse. "I should have fought harder against his command. There had to be something I could have done. Some way to resist or refuse."

"You said yourself there isn't. You showed me that all you can do is watch." Numair didn't need the reminder of when she'd asked him to do that to her. Controlling her like that, even for those few minutes, had been sickening.

"Over the years I learned small ways in which to resist." He closed his eyes, cringing at the admission. "A command must be specific, or the mind can find and exploit loopholes. The body and mind are only forced to do what is spoken and not what's implied."

"I still think you're a good man," Daine spoke determinedly.

"I'm really not." Numair shook his head, sighing.

"Only a good man would regret the things he'd done and still be trying to figure out how he could've stopped the evil he was forced to commit," she reasoned. "You can't change the past. No one can. Goddess knows if a person could, I'd never have left my ma that day, and I would've killed all those bandits afore they got anywhere near my farm."

He opened his eyes to stare into her resolute, stubborn gaze. Daine should despise him for the things he'd done, instead she was making excuses and trying to release him from his culpability. "I'll make the breakfast."

Extricating himself from the bedroll without disturbing any of their companions was practically impossible until the animals began to stir and leave. Numair focussed on the task of lighting the fire and cooking while he blanked his mind. Talking about his memories didn't appear to have set off another episode but it had reopened a dark void inside himself that threatened to drag him back into madness and despair. It was a sheer effort of will to set his mind on something productive that might do some good.

"I want to return to the village and help them rebuild," he admitted determinedly while they ate.

"You want me to deal with the raiders?" she offered, a note of surprise in her voice.

"Not by yourself!" Numair's head shot up. "I meant after we've dealt with them."

"You sure you can fight them? It'll mean killing." There was too much comprehension in the way she regarded him now. Like a broken or damaged toy that couldn't be played with anymore.

"It may give me more nightmares but if we don't deal with them, they will continue to burn more villages and hurt innocents. I cannot abide that," he said. "I won't let you down, Daine."

"O'course not," she scowled. "I only meant if you'd druther go back, I can deal with them on my own. You never wanted to fight or use your Gift for killing and I'd prefer you not to be killing either."

Taking a calming breath, Numair sipped his tea. "If a war is coming then you will need every fighter and every mage. This isn't killing out of spite and animosity." Or Ozorne's pathological hatred against an entire country because his father was killed by a band of rebels. "Tortall and its people need protecting and I will do what I can to aid in that."

Daine's face softened as she scooted closer to kiss his cheek before scrunching up her face. "You need a shave."

He tried and failed to bite back a chuckle, a sliver of warmth penetrating the ice in his chest. "I promise to shave once we return to the village."

The bandits hadn't moved from their campsite while the mages observed them, hidden behind the rocks. There were thirteen in the camp and another three serving as scouts. Daine had already taken out one of the scouts, but Numair wanted to survey the location before accidentally raising the alarm, so the pair had snuck past the other sentries using his Gift to conceal them, leaving the horses, Kitten and Zek down the mountainside. It was too many for them to take out without it turning into a fight unfortunately.

"How d'you want to do this?" Daine whispered. "I could call the wolf pack to help –"

"No," he cut her off. "I'd like this done with minimal bloodshed."

Resting her hand on his wrist she gave him a look of deep understanding. "There's not much chance of that. Why don't you wait with the horses –"

"Can you ask the dogs to leave quietly and for the horses to bite through their tethers please?" Numair requested, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Yes…" He was being stubborn and was going to hurt himself which infuriated Daine.

It hadn't bothered her when she'd slaughtered the bandits who'd killed her ma and grandda. They'd deserved to die for what they'd done but Daine couldn't imagine what Numair had been through. Hearing him speak about his past with a voice still so full of pain and regret made her almost blind with rage at Ozorne. She'd thought her friend had just been a sweet, kind-hearted soul but now she understood why he was so against killing and Daine wanted to protect him from it at all costs.

"If the animals can all leave without the two-leggers knowledge that would be best," Numair murmured.

Nodding slowly, the Wildmage reached out to contact the dogs and horses who were more than willing to listen. One by one the horses disappeared while the dogs pretended to find an interesting scent to follow, down to where their mounts waited. Daine hefted her crossbow, quarrel already clipped in place with the rest within easy reach, when Numair placed a restraining hand on her arm and shook his head. She frowned but lowered her crossbow wondering what he had in mind as the mage stood and shouted an arcane phrase. The raiders barely had time to leap to their feet in alarm when the ground beneath them ripped open and they dropped like stones along with their tents and weapons. Numair shouted another word which made Daine's ears pound as the crack sealed shut. The last two sentries charged up towards the camp when they heard the commotion, but she dealt with them swiftly. In less than a minute the entire situation had been resolved with the mage panting and sweating but looking no worse for wear while Daine contacted the animals to reassure them that the earth-shakes were over.

"Do you think the dogs and horses would like to return with us to the village?" Numair asked. "I'm sure the villagers would welcome them."

Grinning up at her thoughtful friend, she went to her tiptoes to kiss his stubbly cheek. "I think they'd like that."