Барб Хенди - First and Last Sorcerer

The kindest thing she could do would be to take the girl’s head at the neck, quickly. She’d encountered vampires turned against their will before, and dispatching them had never made her pause.

What was wrong with her now?

She’d seen ancients—the Children—like Qahhar walk in sunlight. Though she’d never seen Li’kän do so, that frail-looking but powerful, feral woman had been awake during daylight in the six-towered castle where the first orb was found. But Magiere had also seen “offspring” of theirs perish and burn under the rising sun.

Taking Ghazel across the desert seemed unlikely. And later, what would happen to the girl once she was separated from the orb? Magiere had locked Li’kän away below that castle for fear of what might happen once she was separated from the orb of Water.

If the girl grew hungry, she’d eventually be driven to feed and kill, even if she didn’t understand what was happening to her.

Magiere couldn’t stand it anymore. She couldn’t bring herself to kill the girl, but the only safety for everyone else was to leave Ghazel behind. Steeling herself, Magiere stepped in and took the orb key out of the girl’s hands.

The sudden hope in Ghazel’s eyes made Magiere look away. She looped the key around her neck and then tucked her hand holding the crystal under one side of the orb.

Ghazel cried out in fright, but Magiere ignored the girl.

Grabbing the spike’s top with her free hand, she hefted it off the table and headed for the stairs. She heard Ghazel following with a stream of sobbing cries in Sumanese. Even if Magiere had understood any of it, she didn’t dare listen as she climbed upward.

Emerging into the main passage, she didn’t slow, but small hands latched on her lower arm beneath the orb.

“Stay ... you stay!” the girl cried. “Baseem’a ... stay!”

Magiere stalled, almost looked down, and then jerked free of that grip. With greater speed, she hurried for the doors out of that place, even as the child’s scream tore at her ears. The sooner this was over, the better.

Ghazel wouldn’t follow into daylight if she’d spent ages alone in this place ... knowing she couldn’t.

The sound of sobs followed Magiere all the way to the door. When Magiere rolled the heavy orb into one arm and grabbed a door handle to pull, Ghazel threw herself against the door with a cry that carried no words.

Magiere shoved the girl aside and wrenched the door open. She ducked out, choked in the sudden heat, and stumbled away from the building.

In the blinding sun, hunger came burning up her throat as the dhampir inside of her rose up to defend her flesh. Her thoughts clouded as she clung to one purpose only: the orb in her arms.

After perhaps fifty paces, she stopped, gagging for air under a wave of guilt and indecision.

Should she go back?

What if she waited until dark and tried to get the child across the desert by traveling only at night and keeping her sheltered under the cloak by day? Might there be something Wynn could do? Wynn had claimed Chane was feeding only on livestock. Magiere didn’t believe that, but was it possible?

No! She was a fool to think of taking an undead into a city.

Still, she stood there, suffering at the thought of walking away and condemning a child to face the slow death of starvation. Her hand clenched on the top of the orb’s spike.

“Baseem’a!”

At that anguished cry, she whirled. It was too clear to have come from within the building, and Magiere dropped the orb. Hunger failed and heat won out as she screamed at what she saw.

Ghazel’s body caught fire as the girl raced out under the burning sun.

Magiere charged back. “No!”

The girl kept screaming the name of the one she thought had returned to her ... until she fell. On impact, ash rose from her in a cloud amid the smoke and stench of burning flesh. When Magiere reached her, there was nothing left but smoldering, blackened bones that began cracking and falling apart amid the ashes.

Magiere stared down, growing dizzy and sick.

Heat made everything in her sight begin to waver. There wasn’t even a wind to scatter the remains and wipe the sight away. When the climbing sun crushed her to her knees, she looked over and saw the staff she had dropped upon her arrival. Somehow, she crawled over and picked it up and then rose to stagger back to the orb. She barely managed to push up the cloak tent to shield herself. But she refused to go back inside the dwelling. She couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Magiere lay there, barely shaded, and the sight of a burning child wouldn’t leave her mind.

Magiere lay silent, staring up into Leesil’s amber eyes looking for ... something.

What did she want from him? Understanding? Absolution?

She didn’t dare look to Chap for that.

She’d done what she had to, and she still heard Ghazel screaming ... even in the tent’s silence as Leesil said nothing. Or did he want to know the rest after that? Did anything else matter, considering she was here and had brought the last orb?

The girl had died long before on the night that Mas’ud had taken her. Magiere had never felt that she killed any undead. She only finished something that shouldn’t have become what it was. So why should Ghazel have been any different?

Shifting her gaze, Magiere looked to Chap.

—It is done ... either way— ... —And you ... came back ... to us— ... —Think of only ... only ... this— ... —Nothing ... else—

Magiere glanced away. It wasn’t that simple. And then she felt Leesil stroke her hair.

“Rest another day,” he whispered. “We’ll leave when you’re ready.”

She knew Brot’an and Ghassan were in the tent as well, but she didn’t look for either of them. She had no idea what the aging assassin thought, and likely the fallen domin’s eyes and thoughts missed little.

But they’d understand even less about this than either Leesil or even Chap.

To all of them, only the orb mattered, for better or worse and in different ways.

Once, she’d thought so too.

Wynn counted the days since Magiere and the others had left. More than a moon had passed. At first the days and nights had felt long, but then the five left behind fell into a routine.

Without much discussion, they all took to Chane’s sleeping schedule for the most part, though this surprised Wynn slightly. Neither Osha nor Wayfarer had any interest in spending time with Chane. Wayfarer simply claimed it would be easier if they were all awake together. Then again, perhaps she was afraid to fall asleep when Chane was up, now that Magiere and Leesil—and especially Chap—were away.

Aside from this, much of the tension over Chane’s presence vanished.

While Osha and Chane didn’t like each other, they had learned to work together without the past glares and posturing. Wayfarer didn’t interact with or speak to Chane unless necessary, but if she disapproved of him, she was too well mannered to show it.

They were all in limbo, waiting to learn the fate of departed friends and companions.

Wynn and Shade tended to rise first in the late afternoon. Since Chane remained dormant all day, this was longer than the rest of them could stay asleep. Before dusk came, one of them would walk to the market for fresh food or anything else needed. Later, they ate supper together, though of course Chane only sipped water or tea.

After that usually came chores.

Wynn attempted to reorganize various texts and scrolls on the shelves. She scanned through all of them, but none held anything related to Ghassan and his sect’s practices.

Osha, having acquired more materials, set to fletching additional arrows to replace the ones lost. More than once Wynn glanced at the new steel arrowheads, knowing he still had white metal ones in his quiver.