All Spell Breaks Loose

“Blanks?”

“A mirror that is not linked to a specific destination.” Carnades’s words dripped with contempt, presumably at my ignorance.

I ignored it and him. I could always punch Carnades later. In fact, that image was going to be my happy thought for the entire trip.

Mychael shot a warning glance at Carnades. “The four blanks in the mirror room were against the opposite wall from ours,” Mychael explained. “Their surfaces were flat, no ripples, no reflections of the people in the room. They could be our way back.”

Mychael left “if they weren’t destroyed” unsaid. My low morale appreciated that.

“We would need to locate either a blank or active mirror in Regor,” he continued. “Carnades would redirect it to one of the blanks on Mid.”

“How long does that take?” Piaras asked.

“About half an hour for most mirror mages,” Mychael replied.

“I could do it in fifteen,” Carnades said disdainfully.

A jerk, but a talented one. “That could be fatally slow if we’ve got half the goblin army on our collective ass,” I noted. “Do you think you could speed it up?”

“That is as quick as anyone could link two mirrors,” Carnades hissed. “I have just as much motivation to escape Regor as you do.”

That statement couldn’t be more true. Sarad Nukpana hated Carnades as much as he did me. So hopefully there’d be plenty of potential getaway mirrors to choose from—and Carnades would be plenty motivated to break his own speed record when we found one of them.

I knew I couldn’t see past our meager lights into the rest of the cave, but that didn’t stop me from trying. “Why isn’t there a welcoming committee here? Not that I mind Nukpana being rude, but I do have a vested interest in why.”

“And I have a vested interest in air,” said a muffled and all-too-familiar voice—from inside the crate. “Could someone let me out?”

Never think that a situation couldn’t get any worse.

Our crate contained something besides supplies.

It had Talon stowed away inside.

It probably should’ve taken a crowbar to get into that crate, but Tam ripped into it just fine with his bare hands—probably so he could wrap them around Talon’s neck. From the look on Tam’s face, the kid would have been better off staying in the box, air or no air. Once Talon got a look at his father’s face for himself, I think the kid agreed with me.

Talon was even more scrunched up in the crate than I had been when I slammed into it. He’d wedged himself into one corner, his knees tight against his chest, head bent forward, hands clutching what looked like a small ham. My stomach rumbled.

Tam was virtually shaking with suppressed rage, and for once, Talon did the smart thing and kept his mouth shut.

“Cadet Nathrach,” Mychael said. “What a completely unpleasant and unauthorized surprise.”

Talon looked from his dad to his commander. “I can explain.”

“I seriously doubt that.” Tam reached in, grabbed his son by the front of his uniform, and, with a hard twist and pull, popped Talon free from the supplies, leaving a roughly Talon-shaped indentation in a stack of blankets. But Talon, being Talon, the moment he was out he started talking. Bad idea. It was like the kid couldn’t help himself.

“I didn’t take any supplies out to make room for me.”

I didn’t think Tam heard one word the kid said.

Discipline—either of the self or the plain variety—wasn’t a big part of Talon’s thinking. He’d been on his own for much of his young life, and had used his magic any way he had to in order to survive. Talon was nearly as talented a spellsinger as Piaras, so the kid had some nifty tricks up those gray uniform sleeves, and he didn’t think twice about whipping any of them out. That there were consequences to his actions, especially to others, was just beginning to occur to him. If he ran into a problem, he had a trick to fix it. Magic wasn’t the cure-all solution to everything. Tam was trying to teach his son that. Regor was no place for Talon to continue his education.

The kid was the proverbial loose cannon. Powerful but unfocused, the majority of his magic remained uncharted waters—deep uncharted waters. That description applied to Piaras, too.

And both of them were stuck here with us.

“If we survive this,” Tam growled, “we’re going to have a long and very meaningful talk.”

“I’ll look forward to it, sir.”

“No, you won’t. I can’t change that you’re here, but I can and will change your future attitude about reckless behavior. Do I make myself clear?”

Talon glanced at Tam’s unyielding face and gulped audibly. “Completely, sir.”

Mychael broke the silence. “Tam, you’re familiar with this cave; you’ll lead us out. Cadets Rivalin and Nathrach, our bad luck is your good. Three of our team members didn’t make it through the mirror. There’s a backpack for each of you. Let’s stock up and move out.”

Just because there weren’t any Khrynsani here to meet us didn’t mean they weren’t on the way. We got our gear quickly and quietly.

“Elves, get behind a goblin,” Tam ordered.

Carnades stiffened. “What?”

Tam spoke as if explaining the obvious, which he was. “Goblins can see in the dark; elves can’t. We can’t have any light, and we can’t make any sound.”

Carnades struggled to get his pack over his shoulder. “Why not put Raine at the front? She can just obliterate anyone who comes at us.”

I’d had enough of Carnades, and we hadn’t been in Regor for more than five minutes. “And announce ourselves to every Khrynsani within a hundred miles,” I said. “Great plan.”

“I merely suggest putting our most effective weapon out front,” he said smoothly. “The goblins know what Raine is capable of. In my opinion, we would remain unmolested.”

I hated to admit it, but I agreed with him. If I’d had all of my power there for the calling, I’d want to be out front, and screw the consequences. I’d blast my way into Regor. Anything to get this over with as quickly as possible. But I didn’t have my power, and even if I did, I couldn’t use it for exactly the reason I told Carnades. Big magic would attract big attention of the goblin army kind. There was safety in sneaking.

“If I start a fight, they’re going to finish it,” I told Carnades. “Are you looking to get ‘finished’?”

Imala slung a pack over her shoulders, settled it on her back, and began tightening the straps. “Sarad knows we’re here, but if we get our asses moving, and if Raine keeps her magic to herself, he may remain ignorant of our exact location.” She shot a meaningful look at Carnades. “Silence—both of voice or magic—is the best way to ensure that Sarad remains that way.”

What a polite way to tell Carnades to keep his mouth shut. Court goblins did have a way with words.

We lined up and left the back of the cave. There were more than a thousand miles between Mid and Regor. It had been late morning in Mid, so the sun had probably just risen here. Though you wouldn’t know it from where we were. Caves were absurdly dark.

Tam was leading. The rest of us followed behind, more or less in a goblin-elf order, our footfalls muffled. Not bad for shell-shocked elves in the pitch dark. Though as my eyes adjusted as much as they could, I saw that the cave wasn’t completely dark. Faint green phosphorescence clung to the damp walls from what I guessed was a fungus of some sort. The light let me at least make out Prince Chigaru’s shoulders in front of me.

Shoulders that suddenly stopped.

The sharp whistle of an incoming crossbow bolt announced we weren’t alone anymore.

I dived to the right, toward the cave wall. There was no room for swords, not to mention it was still too freaking dark. I drew one dagger in case someone tried to bring death up close and personal, but I kept it by my side. It’d suck to stab one of my own team; well, except for Carnades.