The Girl Without Magic Page 8

  They climbed without speaking for a moment, listening to the hooting and the cawing in the forest as Maggie’s mind raced through what she could do with water, fire, and a shield spell.

  “But how do you know?” Maggie asked. “How do you know a levitation spell won’t work?”

  “I don’t.” Bertrand shrugged. “But it is a fairly good assumption based on previous experience.”

  “Then shouldn’t we try it?” A bubble of excitement grew in Maggie’s chest. “I mean, what if adsurgo works here? What if it works better here?”

  “By all means, please try it, Miss Trent.” Bertrand sat on a rock facing her, an ill-concealed smile on his face.

  “You’re setting me up,” Maggie said, narrowing her eyes at Bertrand. “It won’t work, and you want to laugh at me.”

  “It doesn’t matter if I am setting you up or not, Miss Trent. You are bound to try it for yourself anyway.”

  Maggie opened her mouth to argue, but he was right. So with a shrug she said, “Adsurgo.” It was as though someone had knocked her feet out from under her with a stick. She was airborne for only a split second before she tumbled painfully face-first to the ground.

  “And now I hope you see why I didn’t try to heal your arm with magic, Miss Trent.” Bertrand stood and brushed himself off ready to climb again. “As you can see, the results might have been disastrous. I might have accidentally removed your arm entirely.”

  “Right,” Maggie growled, every muscle she had ever felt, and several she hadn’t, aching as she followed Bertrand up the mountain.

  “And we really must work on your sword play, Miss Trent,” Bertrand called back. “I do beg your pardon if I am making any false assumptions, but having skill with a sword can be vital if you cannot use magic to fend off an attacker.”

  “Nope.” Maggie grimaced. “They definitely didn’t teach us swords at the Academy.”

  aggie had gone numb by the time they neared the top of the mountain. There was nothing but moving forward one more step. Then another. Then another. She had long since stopped looking up to see how close they were to the top. There was no point. They would get there when they got there.

  She didn’t even look anymore as things rustled in the bushes nearby.

  “If you want to eat me, just do it,” Maggie growled at the trees.

  “I’m sorry, what was that, Miss Trent?”

  “I said―” Maggie looked toward Bertrand, but he wasn’t climbing a few feet ahead of her. He was standing on the top of the mountain ten feet above her. “We’re here?” Maggie’s words came out as a whimper. “We’re done climbing?”

  “For now, Miss Trent.” Bertrand lay on his stomach and reached down, catching the hand of Maggie’s good arm as soon as she was near enough and dragging her to the top. “And for the evening.”

  Maggie rolled onto her back, panting and staring up at the darkening sky.

  “We do have an excellent vantage point. Though I don’t see any people at the moment,” Bertrand said.

  “Mmmhmm.” Maggie closed her eyes and let the breeze play across her face.

  “There is a decent ridgeline we can follow tomorrow if we still can’t see anything from here.”

  “A ridgeline sounds great.” She raised her hand and gave Bertrand a thumbs up.

  “I must say―” Bertrand bustled around, breaking sticks.

  Maggie unwillingly opened her eyes.

  “―you have done better than I thought you would, Miss Trent.” He piled sticks on top of a flat rock. “I was afraid you might not make it up the mountain, or you might decide to turn around and head right back to the safety of the Siren.”

  “I don’t know how to get back.” Maggie sat up and watched as Bertrand built a fire. It had gotten so dark the sudden light of the flames was startling. “And I came here to bring more magic into the Siren’s Realm. I’m not leaving without it.”

  “But you’ve already, shall we say, refilled your magic stores.” Bertrand took off his jacket and began pulling things out of his pockets. “So you could go back whenever you like.”

  “I what?” Maggie said, watching quasi-disgusted as Bertrand pulled two large fish from his pockets.

  “You have what you have come for.” Bertrand repeated as he casually shoved a stick lengthwise through the first dead fish, which made a horrible squelching noise. “You can go back whenever you like.”

  “Next you’re going to tell me to click my heels three times and I’ll be back by the Endless Sea.”

  “I know nothing of clicking heels, Miss Trent,” Bertrand said, looking at Maggie as though afraid the heat had done something to her brain, “but you could slip back through the stitch and take what magic you’ve gained with you.”

  “Then why the hell did we just climb up a freakin’ mountain!” Maggie screamed, her voice bouncing out into the darkening air.

  “Because, Miss Trent, I hope for more from you than simply sneaking into a world, stealing a bit of magic, and returning home a little richer but none the wiser. You are in a world neither you nor I have ever seen. Magic connected the Siren’s Realm to this place. Only something fiercely magical could have made an opening we can travel through. I mean to find that magic and discover what secrets it holds. We would not have fallen into this place if there were no reason for us to be here, Miss Trent. Magic has called us to this place, and I intend to discover why. And if you are the person I believe you to be, I have no doubt you will be following me around this maze of a lake come morning.”

  Maggie buried her head in her hands, taking a few shuddering breaths before speaking. “I really have no idea who the hell this person you think I’m supposed to be is, but I’m pretty sure I’m not her.”

  “Self-deprecation is hardly a virtue, Miss Trent. You are important enough to have been drawn into the Siren’s Realm, smart enough to respectably make your way in the Textile Town, caring enough to befriend the misfits you meet, and brave enough to defend a stranger against the Derelict. Really, I am beginning to suspect I know you better than you know yourself.”

  Maggie squeezed her eyes shut against the night as she pictured herself throwing Bertrand from the top of the mountain.

  “Would you like some fish?” Bertrand asked. “You will need your strength come morning. Unless, of course, you want to run back to the Siren’s Realm simply to prove me wrong.”

  Pain shot through Maggie’s jaw as she clenched her teeth. She slid the bracelet from her wrist, turning it back into a cup. “Parunda.” The cup filled with water. “Cheers to adventure.”

  “Brilliant, Miss Trent.” Bertrand beamed, spreading his arms wide as though embracing the dusk. “And what a wonderful place we have found for an adventure!”

  Maggie looked out over the edge for the first time. Barely visible in the shadows were more cliffs and spires she hadn’t been able to see before. The lake wasn’t round, but built like a true maze with canals and offshoots going in every direction and disappearing into the darkness.

  “Wow,” Maggie breathed. There was a remarkable beauty in the brokenness of the lake. Impossible to navigate. Water and rock surrounded by thick forest filled with unknown things. For the first time in a very long time, Maggie felt small. Small enough to curl up in the back of a closet and hide until the darkness was gone.

  “How are we going to find anything in that maze besides water?” Maggie asked, not expecting an answer.

  “We wait for daylight, Miss Trent.” Bertrand slid the first roasted fish from its spear and handed it to Maggie. “Primurgo.”

  The air shimmered as the shield blossomed around them.

  Maggie took a bite of the fish, her stomach rumbling its appreciation of the food.

  “Eat and sleep well, Miss Trent. For tomorrow morning the true adventure begins.”

  Sleeping in the jungle was not nearly as simple as Maggie had imagined. As night fell, the animals that hid in the trees seemed to decide it was now time to come out. Leaves rustled, and unseen things
growled and snorted. The fire was still burning between Bertrand and Maggie, keeping away the chill that had crept over the mountaintop. Maggie inched closer to the embers. It seemed wrong that a few hours ago she had been sweating to death and now she was too cold to sleep. A simple spell could have fixed it. But it might have melted her skin off, too.

  Maggie stared up at the sky, blocking out the haze of the firelight with one hand. Stars peered out from the black, but they weren’t stars she had ever seen before. There were no constellations she recognized. Seven stars seemed to be brighter than the rest. Maggie wrapped her arms around herself, trying to squeeze out the thumping in her chest that shouted she was too far from home and the horrible notion that the Siren’s Realm had somehow become home. She fell asleep, trying to remember what constellations she had been able to see out her window at the Academy.

  “Miss Trent,” a voice pulled her from sleep. “Miss Trent, the sun has begun to rise.”

  Maggie’s eyes fluttered open. Bertrand was kneeling next to her.

  “We must begin our watch of the lake,” Bertrand said, his face beaming with excitement. “I have a distinct feeling that people are moving about the lake. We need only spot them.”

  “What?” Maggie rubbed her face. “Why do you feel like there are people moving around?”

  “There!” Bertrand said, pointing to a distant patch of low-lying trees. Their leaves were a bright red that was nearly swallowed up by the deep green of the taller trees around them. But just as Maggie began to wonder what sort of trees could be so red, a flock of birds burst suddenly from the branches, cawing their fear before settling into another patch of trees down the lake.

  “So there’s a predator out there.” Maggie shrugged. “It could be jungle cat or bear or whatever they have around here.”

  “Miss Trent,” Bertrand said solemnly, “I have discovered in my many travels that whenever one suspects the presence of a predator, it is best to assume the threat is a person until you discover otherwise. People are the most dangerous thing to have creep up on you unexpectedly. And the thing you least want to find you in the dark is usually what is lurking in the shadows.”

  “Thanks for that.” Maggie walked to the edge of the cliff and sat, her feet dangling over the side as she scanned the trees, searching for more patches of red. “You really made me feel better about this whole finding adventure thing.”

  “Miss Trent,” Bertrand said from his post facing the other side of the lake, “it will never be my intention to make you feel better; it will always be my intention to keep you alive.”

  “Well, I guess there’s something in that,” Maggie grumbled.

  The morning sun glistened on the lake, showing more of it than Maggie had been able to see the night before. The sight was not comforting. The maze of cliffs and islands reached out to towering mountains in the distance. It was impossible to see where the lake ended. Once the twists and turns of land covered the water, there was no way to know how much longer it went on for.

  “We need a map,” Maggie said. “Even if we see someone, there’ll be no way to follow them without a map. We’ll get lost in the maze.”

  “That is a problem,” Bertrand said, “but first we must see where we want to go. Then we will worry about the details of getting there.”

  Trees stirred on the other side of the lake. Maggie sat up straight and squinted into the distance. Nothing as large as a person appeared. Small brownish things moved along the edge of the water, grazing on something.

  “How deep do you think the water is?” Maggie asked. From the top of the mountain there was no sign of shallows near the shore. The lake simply began in a deep blue, becoming ever darker toward the middle.

  “Knowing how magic works in most parts,” Bertrand said, “I would say extremely deep. Deep enough to hide something terrifying in its depths. Or alternatively, about four-and-a-half feet.”

  “When I fell in, I went more than four-and-a-half feet down.”

  “Then we must assume terrifyingly deep is the correct assessment.”

  They settled back into silence. Maggie’s mind wandered as she stared out over the unmoving lake. A bird flew nearby, pale blue, his wings tipped with bright purple. The bird circled lazily overhead, spiraling higher and higher into the sky before diving into the trees.

  A squawk of terror and squeak of pain were followed by silence. Maggie shuddered and turned back toward the lake.

  Dead ahead was a boat gliding smoothly across the lake’s surface.

  “Bertrand,” Maggie called, “I see people!”

  Bertrand was by her side in two long strides.

  “Should we shout for them?” Maggie asked. The boat was gliding past them. One person at either end held a long paddle, steering the boat quickly toward a clump of spires.

  “They wouldn’t be able to hear us from all the way up here,” Bertrand said. “We shall watch them as long as we can and do our best to mimic their path.”

  “But we don’t have a boat,” Maggie said, feeling minimally guilty at pointing out the obvious flaw in Bertrand’s plan.

  “Luckily,” Bertrand said slowly as the boat slid out of sight, “our slice of land will bring us far enough to be even with where they disappeared, and then it’s only a matter of crossing to the spires and seeing what we find.”

  “So swimming in the terrifyingly deep water that might have something awful in it?”

  “Precisely.” Bertrand beamed. “Now come along, Miss Trent, we have a ridge waiting for us to walk it.” He pointed to the rocky ridgeline that led parallel to where the boat had disappeared.

  “At least it’s not climbing straight up.” Maggie sighed as she followed him.

  he mid-afternoon sun was beating down upon them when Bertrand finally decided it was time to head back down to the water. Maggie’s momentary relief at being out of the sun was drowned by the staggering weight of the humid air in the trees.

  Rocks tore at her hands as they struggled back down the steep slope, and once she no longer needed her hands to keep balance, she kept the cup constantly filled, passing it back and forth to Bertrand.

  “You know,” Maggie puffed, “it’s good to know you’re human.”

  “I am not human,” Bertrand said in a moderately offended tone. “I am a wizard. But wizards still need water.”

  “And food,” Maggie added. “Food would be great.”

  “If you insist, Miss Trent,” Bertrand said, looking up and searching the trees.

  Maggie stood next to him, trying to see what he was looking for. All she saw were trees.

  “There.” Bertrand pointed after a moment.

  The leaves were rustling, and one of the monkey-looking things burst into view.

  “There is your food.”

  “You want to eat a baby monkey?” Maggie asked.

  “No, Miss Trent,” Bertrand said, “I want to take whatever the monkey is eating.”

  He walked through the trees to where the monkey had appeared.

  “But how do we get it?” Maggie asked. “We can’t levitate, and we can’t use a summoning charm.”

  “Climb,” Bertrand said, taking off his jacket and handing it to Maggie.

  “You’re going to shimmy up that tree like a wizard-sized koala and steal food from monkeys?” Maggie asked as Bertrand ran and leapt at the tree, wrapping his arms around it and beginning to climb the tall trunk.

  “That is exactly what I intend to do, Miss Trent,” Bertrand said.

  “What if you fall?” Maggie said. “The monkey was really high up! I can’t heal you here!”

  “Then I shall not fall, Miss Trent!” Bertrand shouted.

  “This is great,” Maggie muttered. “Really freakin’ great. He’s going to die, and I have no idea how the hell to get back to the Siren’s Realm.”

  A branch broke not ten feet behind her.

  Maggie spun to see who was there, but before she could make sense of it, something thick and dark had covered her head.
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  Maggie screamed as arms wrapped tightly around her. “Bertrand! Help!”

  “Hold her still,” a voice growled.

  “No! Please!” Maggie yelled as something cut into her wrists, binding them together.

  There was a bellow and a crash. “Unhand her at once!” Bertrand shouted.

  A muffled grunt of pain was followed by the smack of flesh hitting flesh.

  Something hard knocked into Maggie, sending her tumbling sideways.

  “We are not here to hur―” With a horrible crack, Bertrand was silent.

  “Bertrand!” Maggie screamed, trying to find her footing and shake off whatever was covering her head. “Bertrand! Leave him alone!”

  “Shut her up,” a woman’s voice ordered. A hand touched Maggie’s neck. She crumpled to the ground before she could scream.

  Pain climbed Maggie’s wrists. Not a mind-numbing pain or a hateful pain. Just an ache, which seemed to reassure her that if she tried to move, something much worse would follow. She was tied up, her back pressed against something hard and straight. Her face was still covered, and the heat of every breath made it more difficult to breathe.

  She listened closely in the darkness. The sound of water lapping came from beneath her. The rhythm of steady breathing came from behind her. Movement in the corner. Not constant. Like someone was shifting their weight, uncomfortable from sitting in one place for so long.

  “You know,” Maggie said as carelessly as she could, “I have to stop waking up like this. Darkness, not knowing where I am. Last time was bad enough. Eternal darkness with nothing to mark time. But this. This is almost worse. Being tied up, my head covered. The person who’s keeping me here listening to me rant and not saying anything.” She paused for a moment. “I suppose it would be too much to ask for kidnappers to be polite. That’s fine. But, it would be nice of you to tell me where I am, you know. I really don’t know that. I assume I’m still by the lake, because I can hear the water and―” Maggie paused again “―yep, I can feel the floor moving. So I’m going to say boat or raft.”