Page 84 of Homeward for a Spell

“Where the devils did you come from?” Sage calls, still catching her breath.

“Oh, I’ve been following your trail for days. I kept a respectful distance, of course. The mood you two were in when you set out, I thought you could use some privacy to make it up to one another. But I figured if you were leaving, I might as well too. Good thing I did, eh?”

“A very good thing.” But her relief melts away as she notices Wren’s eyes. Instead of their usual gray, they flicker with orange light, like fire burning around the coal of her pupils. “Wren…You didn’t…”

The woman grins, one hand drifting to a small hide pouch on a cord around her neck, where it rests outside the collar of her coat. “What good is power if you don’t use it to help your friends?”

Suddenly the clamor escalates, impossible as that seems, and Sage whips her head around to find the mercenaries preoccupied not only by the owls, but by Nura, who’s charging into their midst. Despite being a full head shorter than the slightest of them, she plows through them like a cannonball, scattering men in her wake.

“What are you doing?” Remy cries. He’s scavenged a shield from a fallen mercenary to hold above his head, but stands far enough from the fray that the owls aren’t menacing him.

“Can’t you see they’re up to no good?” Nura shouts back, clobbering a man with the hilt of her sword as he swats at an owl, then backhanding him to the ground. “Are you planning to stand there and let them kill our leader?”

Sage doesn’t hear Remy’s reply, as an armored elbow drops down on the back of her neck and she falls to her knees again. Even as her head rings, her skin prickles in the way that warns of danger, and Sage spins on her knee to throw herself backward as a mercenary’s sword pierces the earth between her boots.

Shaking her head to clear it, she scrambles upward only to watch the mercenary crumple at her feet.

Behind him stands Bramble, hoisting a thick branch in their trembling hands. “Sage, I…I…” they stutter. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never meant…I only wanted…”

“I understand, Bramble.” She cuts them off, stopping short of: I forgive you, Bramble.

It’s enough, it seems, because they steady themself to speak in a rush. “Those women—Phi’s people—told the guards at Briarwall that she’d gotten lost in the Northlands last fall, and they’d hired a new party to search for her. But Remy spent the winter recruiting men from the villages south of the wall at their bidding. They don’t want you getting back to the gate, Sage.”

It’s no less than she’s realized already. Menorath has gone this far to keep her machinations secret, so why not add Sage’s dead body to the pile of her ill deeds? “And what do you want?” she asks as she shoves Bramble aside to strike at the helmet of the mercenary sneaking up on them. “If it’s penance, then find Araphi. Help her.”

“I…yes. Yes, I will,” Bramble decides, then their eyes brighten. “I’ve still got her lute! It’s in the barracks. We brought it back from the temple, along with both of your packs. Nura insisted.”

Sage doesn’t understand bard magic so intimately that she can guess whether the instrument makes the difference, whether Araphi stands a better chance with her mother’s lute in hand than the one acquired in Arkney. But certainly it can’t hurt, and at least Bramble will be on hand with their branch. “Then go now, get it to her. I’ll follow shortly.”

Bramble nods, drops the branch with relief, and turns to dodge the mercenaries, Nura, and the owls on their way to the gate. From over the treetops, she can see the great doors begin to swing open again to admit them. Then Sage is submerged in battle once more—a shifting blur of feathers and steel in sunlight, Nura’s fists and Sage’s boots, dented helmets and dropped swords. She stands back-to-back with Nura while Wren directs her birds like an orchestral conductor, and they hold their ground, peeling off mercenaries one at a time. For every two that go down, one stands up again, and Sage’s arms grow tired from the weight of her sword as her breath comes short.

She’s definitely lost a bit of her edge in Arkney over the winter—something to remedy if she survives.

A thunderous sound rings from the direction of the outpost, and the ground quakes beneath their boots, sending them all stumbling. Nura doesn’t waste a moment of the mercenaries’ weakness. “Go now!” she commands, spinning to shove Sage in the direction of the gates before she can properly wonder what’s happened. “We’ll keep the last few off your back!”

Sage needs no more convincing than that.

Leaping over a fallen mercenary on the ground, she sprints hard for the entrance to Briarwall. If she can just get to the gate, get through to Araphi—

Then the Agent steps onto the path.

“Move, Remy,” she growls, tightening her grip on her dagger.

He raises his own empty hands before him, placating, but doesn’t budge. “You know I’ve a job to do. And alas, you’re the new mission, Sage. The Client—”

“You mean Menorath Clauneck,” she accuses.

He shrugs. “A client is a client, and this one’s exceptionally rich—and dangerous. She’s also not a fan of yours at the moment. First you take her artifact, then her heiress…”

“I didn’t take the dragon’s tooth,” Sage insists before pausing to consider. “Or…I suppose we did, but not for our own profit. We were doing what’s right.”

“I know. Bramble’s story was shaky from the start. They don’t have the heart of a liar, pity for them. But it doesn’t matter. As I said, the job has changed. When we made it back to Briarwall, I had to send a missive explaining the situation. I didn’t really believe you two had drowned in the Swallow. Honestly, I hoped you hadn’t.”

“You mean you hoped we hadn’t drowned with the dragon’s tooth in hand.”

“Can’t it be both?” The ghost of a fond smile haunts the corners of his lips before he continues. “I told you once that I was the insurance policy. Do you recall?”

Of course she does. “You came along to make sure none of us compromised the mission, or Menorath’s secrets,” she guesses. “If anything threatened them, you were told to eliminate that threat, whether it came from within the party or without. Have I got that right?”