Page 8 of Sword & Sacrifice

Even Niall seemed taken aback by his response. “I am?”

“I’m still experimenting with this magic, and it is somewhat more difficult than I expected. Though the mercenary is subdued for now, his roots are strong and deep. I can’t take complete control until I burn him out.”

“So burn him already!” Niall exclaimed. “The last thing I need is for you to falter and allow that damn mercenary to regain control.”

“The whole process would be much easier with a willing host,” Valistair said, his voice quiet, coaxing. “Would you like to offer yourself?”

Niall hesitated for a long moment, then jabbed a finger at Penn. “What about him? You’ve already made a deal with him for the witch’s safety. Any information you want, you can simply take from inside his head.”

Penn tensed, struggling to maintain his calm facade. While that would free Valerian, he didn’t know if it would save him. What if Alistair left Valerian’s body for Penn’s, then turned around and slit Val’s throat? Then Alistair would still be on the loose, and Penn wouldn’t be able to stop him. I might not even exist anymore. Whatever methods Val used to fight back against the mental invasion, whether through magical defense or sheer force of will, Penn wasn’t sure he could last in the same situation.

I’m sorry, Val, but I can’t take your place.

He waited to see what the mage would say, if he would try to alter their deal.

Valistair assessed Penn briefly, then said, “Perhaps. For now, I want him just as he is.”

Niall scoffed but dropped the subject, perhaps afraid his master would turn his sights back on him. “We still have to worry about the witch. For all we know, she went to the closest town to tell everyone we’re here. Even if it takes a while to reach the boy’s ears, the soldiers will discover us sooner or later, and they may not be ones loyal to Varro. What are we supposed to do?”

“Once we leave, there won’t be anything for them to find.”

“Where do you expect us to go? Anywhere public, and he’ll have the same chance to rat us out.” Once again, he gestured expansively at Penn.

Does he not use anyone’s name because he can’t remember them, or because he views us as too far beneath him? Probably a combination of both. Once he understood the source of Niall’s arrogance, Penn could use it to drive a wedge between the two mages.

Penn finally sat up, moving so quickly that Niall yelped and scuttled away from him. “You could backtrack toward Litus,” he suggested. “Everyone is expecting you to flee in the opposite direction. All the search parties would have cleared the cities close to the capital, so they won’t be looking for you there.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Niall sneered. “If we walked straight back into the arms of your king. Absolutely not.”

Penn hadn’t expected them to take the suggestion. Once he’d made it, Niall was even more determined to avoid Litus, which was exactly what Penn wanted. He didn’t know what the mages were capable of, but he knew that most magic lost its effects over long distances. The more distance he could put between the mages and his friends, the safer everyone else would be.

“Fine, if you don’t want to go to the capital, where do you want to go?” He turned his attention to Valistair, who watched him with half-lidded eyes. “I’ve acted as Archer’s messenger for years. I know this whole continent like the back of my hand.” A gross exaggeration, but they didn’t need to know that. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll guide you there.”

“Why would we trust you?” Niall asked.

“Because it’s the deal we made,” Penn replied, never taking his eyes off Valistair. “You held up your end, I plan to hold up mine.”

While Niall continued to grouse, Valistair stepped toward Penn. The mage grabbed his chin and tilted his head up. His body blocked Penn’s view of Niall, and the other mage’s view of them, so he couldn’t see the way Valistair rubbed his thumb over Penn’s lips. “Where did we meet?”

The ‘we’ threw Penn off for a moment. He’d technically met Alistair at Veritim Palace. But that wasn’t the mage’s question—he wanted to know where Valerian had met Penn.

He swallowed a lump in his throat, uncertain about this development. “At your shop in Swallow’s Nest.”

“Swallow’s Nest,” Valistair repeated, lingering over the words. “Yes. That’s where we’ll go first.”

He released Penn and turned back to Niall to plan the journey.

Penn watched the mage warily, wondering what he wanted with the shop. Maybe he thinks Valerian’s left some spells and tools behind? The shop had been cleared out, everything stuffed into Valerian’s bottomless satchel. And that had burned in a fire Penn still didn’t know the origin of, destroying all of Valerian’s supplies and their only way to communicate with Archer and Silas.

Though the shop would be empty, it would be full of reminders of Valerian. Maybe once they were in familiar territory, it would give Valerian the upper hand in his fight against Alistair.

Penn would have to carefully balance helping Valerian while interfering with Alistair’s goals. Whatever Alistair wanted in that shop, Penn couldn’t let him have it.

Defeating the spiders would be much easier if Valerian had a way to fight back. Theoretically, this was his mind, so he could manifest anything he desired. In practice, it didn’t quite work that way. Sitting down and meditating wasn’t an option when roots constantly tried to drag him into memories, so he had to keep moving.

I need a weapon, he thought, and the next tree he passed showed a brief glimpse of his own hand burying a blade in a man’s stomach. The dagger wasn’t ideal for his mission, so Valerian almost walked past the tree, but he stopped when he realized he didn’t remember this scene. The man staring at Valerian through the mirror-bark had typical Bellacostan coloring—brown hair, brown eyes, brown stubble on his haggard face. Sounds didn’t accompany the images until he entered the memory, but the man’s mouth was wide open in an agonizing scream. Squinting, Valerian leaned closer to examine his victim. Is that Gavril?

This is from when I rescued Penn. A combination of potion overdose and magical exertion had suppressed the memories. So, the forest shows even things I can’t remember. The information unnerved Valerian—there were many things he’d forgotten for good reason.