Page 25 of War Mage

“West,” I reply, my own voice sounding disembodied to my ears.

“I must move quickly, or I won’t be able to open the space again,” I hear Adara explain as we begin to move, almost floating through this void between space and time. The mage takes ten, no eleven steps.

“Here goes nothing,” I hear her mutter, her voice still echoing, then there’s a tear in the void and we tumble out. Right into the ocean.

“Fuck!” Adara yells, right before we plunge into the salt water. I still have her arm in my grip and I haul her up with me to the surface as I powerfully kick with my legs. We burst out of the water, but I’m blinded by the ocean and the heavy rain for a moment.

“I didn’t take us far enough!” shouts Adara. “We should almost be to shore, but—”

The mage’s words are cut off as we are picked up by a huge wave and thrown against a boulder. I feel my rib groan in protest as I am bodily thrown right against the rocks, but I manage to keep hold of the boulder. Adara is not so lucky. Her head hits the jutting stone and her eyes roll into the top of her head, going unconscious, and slipping away from my grip and back into the ocean.

Cursing, I dive back into the surf, grabbing her body and pulling her back to the surface. Her eyes are closed and a trickle of blood spills down the side of her head. Fuck, I don’t even know if she’s still alive or dead, but I keep hold of her. Hopefully she’s alive and I just need to keep her head above the water.

But rocks mean the shore is close, like Adara was saying. She must have gotten us most of the way there. I keep furiously pumping my legs, keeping both me and Adara above the waves and away from the rocks as I try to get my bearings. Turning to look wildly around, I finally see it, even through the violent storm. A beacon to my right, not too far off.A lighthouse.We are close to safety, if I can just get past the rocks ahead. With that thought lodged firmly in my head, I situate Adara so that my arm is under her armpits, holding her head out of the seawater and kicking my legs, stroking my free arm through the churning ocean and swim. And swim and swim. It seems never ending, and waves push me violently against the rocks, but I keep that light in my sight and push my strength to its brink. For every length forward we seem to be pushed two lengths back by the water and wind, but I don’t let hopelessness win. Slowly, oh so slowly, the light gets closer.

I can make it,I chant to myself.I can make it.

Then all my mental energy is tied up in pushing toward the light and nothing else matters.

???

Endless minutes go by as I fight the waves that try to push us this way and that. Everything in my body hurts, but I don’t let myself stop.I cannot let myself stop.Finally, with three last powerful strokes of my arm, I manage to catch on a wave that carries us to shore. Hauling Adara out of the surf, I pull her up the pebble beach. When we’re clear of the crashing waves, I finally can check if she’s alive. The bond is dark and quiet between us, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that she's dead, just deeply unconscious. With hands trembling from exhaustion and perhaps a little fear, I check her pulse. It jumps and pumps under my fingers, showing me her vitality. But she needs to get out of the storm and get some care if she’s going to survive this ordeal. Reaching into reserves of strength I didn’t know that I had, I lift her in my arms, carrying her toward the lighthouse and safety.

She saved me.The fact is not lost on me. True, she didn’t quite get us to the shore, but she could have left me in the dinghy and she didn’t, even though she truly owes me nothing. Now I owe her a debt that can’t be repaid.

I get to the lighthouse and bang on the door. Standing under the rain and the salty sea-spray, I wait for what seems an eternity before the door opens.

“What in the Nether?” the lighthouse keeper says, taking in my bedraggled appearance and the woman in my arms. “Where did you come from?”

“Our ship . . .” I gasp out, surprised at how difficult it is to speak. Swimming took everything out of me. “It went down . . . struck by lightning. Only my slave and I escaped.”

The words feel like ashes in my mouth, calling Adara a slave after everything that has happened, but it is part of the plan and it’s our backstory for the mission. Still, I can’t help but feel . . . guilty.

“Slave? You one of those Honorless slavers, bringing the sentient blood slaves?” asks the lighthouse keeper. I notice for the first time that he has fangs in his mouth. If I didn't already know that we were in Barakrin, this would remove all doubt.

“Yes,” I say. “I had cargo meant for Grazrath in Evernight, but they all went down with the ship. Except this one.”

“A Favored One,” the lighthouse keeper says, sounding reverent. “She must be fine goods. You’d better come in, then. If she dies from the cold, she’ll be no use to anyone.”

“My deepest thanks,” I respond sincerely, though I am wary. His obvious regard for Grazrath and his reference to Adara as “goods” make him seem like someone it would be foolish to drop my guard around, no matter how tired and spent I am. The lighthouse keeper moves to the side and I sidle in, still holding Adara.

“Why is she unconscious?” he asks curiously.

“The ocean was violent as we tried to cross in our lifeboat,” I answer, leaving out the voidwalking. “We capsized and she hit her head.”

“Is she dead, then? Or dying?” the lighthouse keeper asks, concerned, though he looks at the woman in my arms with something suspiciously like hunger.

“I don’t think so, but she needs rest and attention.”

“I have a healing potion around here somewhere that you can use. But we should also get her near the fire,” he says. “Her lips are blue. That’s a bad sign for humans, isn’t it?”

I nod, noticing the same thing. Is Adara about to die of the cold? Normally she is always warm, using her magic to keep her temperature regulated. Did her head wound affect her powers somehow or is she so close to death that her mana isn’t responding?

There’s no time to lose.

“Where is that healing potion?” I ask.

“Just a moment,” the lighthouse keeper replies, walking away from me. While he’s gone, I get Adara to the crackling fire and start chafing her arms and legs, but it’s no use. She’s too cold and wet and her complexion stays the same.

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