on.
I was startled to glimpse scars underneath.
One on his left wrist, a small white gash faded enough that he must’ve been a child when he got it. One on the back of his right hand, slightly less faded, a puncture scar matched by a smaller exit scar on his palm.
The thing was, mages didn’t get scars from normal injuries, not with magical healing. Someone had taken an Everblade to a child. Twice.
It was only a moment before Arcturus pulled on his new gloves, but I knew I’d dwell on what I’d seen. Dark secrets hid behind his cool, composed facade.
“That’s better,” said Acubens cheerfully, looking his brother up and down. “You’re ready to intimidate the hell out of people.”
He really was, I admitted. Arcturus already had the proportions of a statue, and the coat cut away the last vestiges of mortal softness from his silhouette. He was mass and height and hard, sharp edges. He loomed. I struggled to tear my eyes away.
“So I’ve got a few ideas for securing our side of the bridge,” Darshan began, determinedly not looking at Arcturus. “I don’t know what you have planned already.”
“I’ll allow my people to show you our list of defensive wards,” said Arcturus. “Add to it if you can. I would like to see further demonstration of your skills.”
As he went to talk to his subordinates, I suppressed a snicker at Darshan’s expression. “Further demonstration of your skills. That’s practically a come-on by your nerdy standards, isn’t it,” I muttered, sidling up to him.
“I admit I didn’t think just tagging along on the trip in the same plane as him would be this hard,” Darshan gritted out. “I don’t want to work for him. I don’t even like him! But just acknowledgement from someone like him is a hell of a drug.”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “I know the feeling.”
The plane had landed, resting on a horizontal magical barrier that provided a flat surface in the middle of a rocky landscape of hills and valleys. The Nightfeld vassals went out first into the pre-dawn gloom, setting down wards and scanning for hostile magic in every direction. A direct attack was unlikely at this point, with Cly still in our hands; the danger lay in a trap timed to go off later.
With notebooks in hand, Darshan and I stepped off the plane, looking around. The magical barrier cast a faint, ethereal glow on everything from below. Mist still clung to the landscape, milky blue against the dark bulk of the hills.
I felt goosebumps rise on my arms from the autumn chill, and worked lower magic to keep me warm until the sun rose. Cly was right about this, at least: I didn’t have anything to layer on over the clothes on my back, which were themselves going on their third day. I hadn’t had a chance to change since Aegis drugged me. Only magic kept me vaguely fresh and human-feeling.
We went past the edges of the barrier, gravel crunching under our feet and skittering down steep stone faces into darkness. I looked at the list we’d been given. “We can definitely put down Nestor’s Repulsion Fields for railings and safety nets,” I said. “Unless they’d interfere with the velocity wards?”
I was glad to see the happy intensity on Darshan’s face, now that he was outside and working on the things he loved. The cold had brought a faint flush to his cheeks. “They shouldn’t, as long as we layer them. I just don’t know if they have enough range for, you know, the actual Ash Bridge itself.”
We’d come to the bridge at last. I stared down it, but the chasm it spanned was too wide for me. Mist hid the other end, even when I enhanced my eyesight.
Was Leda Redbriar already there, waiting for us? Was Mom?
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “It’s too far.”
Darshan must’ve heard the off note in my voice, because he took my hand in wordless comfort. I squeezed his hand in gratitude, turning away from the bridge.
But as we made our way back to the others, I struggled to put my full focus on helping coming up with other magical suggestions that would work with the geography and the existing wards. I couldn’t help but dwell on how the Ash Bridge had gotten its name.
Legend said that there had once been a portal to the hells in the gorges, and some that some of our earliest ancestors had sealed it, giving the location a nice historical significance to lend dignity