Page 6 of War Mage

“What is?” I ask, confounded.

Her gaze comes back to me, the full force of her fairy beauty aimed at me once more. “Adara,” she says, surprising me by using my name like we are old friends, “I’m sure you’ve wondered why you are still alive. Perhaps even wondered why you have not been truly tortured or tried. You attacked my convoy. You tried to kill me. You almost burned down Undrian Forest to do so.”

“I know,” I say flippantly. “I was there.” I never thought about the torture, so focused was I on my torment with the runes, but it is a good point. Whydidthey bother with the runes when they could have been using whips and blades? Lacrys definitely doesn’t seem the squeamish type.

She ignores my quip. “These are serious crimes, crimes that cannot be forgiven. But to lose a resource such as yourself, when you were only acting out of misguided pain, would be a waste.”

I bristle at the mention of my “misguided” pain, thinking of Cara and the others, but don’t say anything. I also don’t really appreciate being called a resource, but, I suppose, that to one such as a queen, everyone must look like a resource. Pieces to move on the board.

The queen continues, “I am not a wasteful person. And it just so happens that I have a job that requires someone like you and, at the moment, you are all we have.”

“Someone like me?” I ask, still confused. I don’t know what the queen is talking about.

“A fire mage,” she says bluntly. “We never had very many in the first place. After the war we have none left, save you. And the mission I have in mind is imperative. One only you can do. So, I come to you with a deal.”

“I still do not like this idea, My Queen,” interrupts Lacrys, surprising me.

“Be that as it may, Urim, it is what we have left,” the queen chides.

Urim? The terrifying specter of my captivity is named Urim? The name is too bland, too common for the specter of my captivity. I like Lacrys better. It fits him more.

The queen turns back to me and continues, “The deal I have for you is simple. Do this job for me, succeed where only you can, and I will grant you a pardon. You will be free. Refuse, and you will go to trial and be put to death. The punishment of the last person who tried to kill me was to be torn apart by warbeasts. I imagine your end would be similar.”

Eek. The queen, beautiful as she is, with a sweet, high voice, can sound absolutely intimidating when she wants to.

I slump in my chair. Dying, I’m not really afraid of, but I’d rather avoid more pain if I can. There’s not much of a choice here, but still, I want to hear what she needs me to do. Some things are not worth doing.

“What is this mission?” I query cautiously. Anything that she will require in return for clemency will not be pleasant, I’m sure.

“Simple,” the queen says, finally somewhat smiling, though it is not a pleasant expression. “I want you to kill a demon.”

Chapter 4

Urim

“Kill a demon?” scoffs out Adara. “Have you gone mad? No mortal can kill a demon.”

“Keep a respectful tongue,” I admonish mildly. “You speak to your queen.”

The mage gets a mulish expression on her face and I can practically smell her need to roll her eyes, though she keeps it in check. After three months of consistently being punished for defiance and impudence, one would think it would be snuffed out of her by now. But though she is no longer as angry as she once was, she still has her spirit. I would almost be impressed if it didn’t also exasperate me.

“I understand your skepticism,” Queen Adalind says, matching my mild tone. “I would have thought the same thing only days ago. But we have found, in an ancient religious text, a reference to the God Wars eons ago. When the demons tried to usurp the gods in Ethereal. It spoke of a way to make the demons vulnerable. A reference to soulfire.”

The mage stiffens in front of me, growing more wary. “I have never lit a soulfire,” she says, sounding defensive. “No one has.”

“But that doesn’t mean that you cannot, is that correct?” pushes the queen.

I wait for Adara to answer. I had never heard of a soulfire before the queen’s scholar found the reference. It seems mythical to me, unreal. The mage will know if it is possible, however.

“I can’t make a soulfire,” she says stubbornly.

There, a whiff of a lie. Or at least a half-truth.

“Do not lie to your queen,” I say more firmly.

Adara growls in frustration. An actual growl, almost like an angry orcress. “Damn your orc nose! I’mnotlying.”

“You are and you know you are,” I tell her. If we were still in the cell I would turn on another rune. At least, I would if they weren't all already on.

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