The Banished of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood, #1)(12)
The kystrel burned against Maia’s skin, and she realized someone had summoned the storm with the power of the Medium. Coldness shot deep into her bones. Lightning struck a tree behind them, blasting it into fire. Argus howled and began barking.
“Hush!” Jon Tayt said, cuffing the dog. Flames leaped up the bark of the pine and the branches were soon blazing. The wind kicked up the flames even higher, causing the ashes to spread and fan out, igniting other trees in the valley.
“Lady Marciana!” shouted a powerful voice in the darkness. She recognized it, having heard it inside her mind at the Leering she had used to summon water. “Surrender to me now, or I will burn this village. I have chased you long enough, and my patience is at an end. You cannot leave this mountain, or all these people will die.”
It was Corriveaux.
The wind was so strong she had to clutch her borrowed cloak around her throat to prevent it from flying back into the brook. She felt mewling hisses all around her, sensed invisible shapes. Anger and fear battled within her.
Another explosion of light came, and yellow tongues of fire began to devour another tree.
“I grow impatient!” Corriveaux shouted into the night.
Maia looked into the kishion’s eyes. He shook his head subtly no. Anguish filled her heart. How could she abandon the poor villagers? They had done nothing to deserve such a fate. Indeed, they had done naught but show her kindness. She had no doubt that Corriveaux’s threat was sincere, and her heart wrenched. Could she really spare her own life at the expense of theirs?
She turned back to the village, intending to fight off the Dochte Mandar who threatened them.
“I think no,” Jon Tayt said, gripping her arm to stop her. “Listen to the man’s voice. He was already going to murder them. We must flee down the mountain, my lady.”
“I can stop him,” she said, trying to control her fear. The force of the Medium was building a charge in the air over her.
She turned to face the blazing trees and summoned the power of the kystrel. Clenching her teeth, she unleashed her emotions and flooded the medallion with all of the darkest parts of herself—her rage, humiliation, fear, and despair.
The wind began to shift immediately, drawn to her call, her summons.
“No, Lady Maia!” Jon Tayt warned. “You will draw him down on us!”
She felt the power building inside of her, rising like a tide. Her confidence increased, and she experienced that tickling giddiness that always made her want to laugh. “Stand away from me,” she said fiercely.
The winds collided. Her leg muscles began to tremble under the mental weight of the magic she wielded. Another shaft of lightning struck near her, shattering a boulder into blackened fragments. The light did not blind her this time. She retaliated, sending a crackle of energy toward her enemy. With the kystrel burning around her neck, she could sense his presence, could see that he was very near, perched on a solitary rock by the shore of the lake. His eyes glowed silver, as did hers.
I found you.
She could sense his triumph as his thoughts clamped down on hers with the strength of iron bars. Maia wrestled against the compulsion to surrender. She pressed against him, shoving with all her strength. Another mind joined Corriveaux’s, latching around her like shackles. Then another mind. There were three of them, three Dochte Mandar.
I have her. Kill her protectors, quickly!
No! Maia shrieked in response, her will bulging against the prison they had created. Her shoulder burned, as if she were supporting a heavy weight over her head. The power drove her to her knees.
“They see us!” Jon Tayt shouted. Soldiers charged at them from the burning mass of trees, heading toward the brook with bared swords.
Maia grunted with exhaustion, and suddenly another shaft of lightning touched ground right in front of the advancing men, scattering them. A few had charred faces as they fell limp to the ground.
You will obey me! Corriveaux’s thoughts screamed at her. Yield to me!
I will not, Maia replied, her mind turning black with the strain of resisting him. She felt the veins on her face begin to pop and blood dribbled down her cheeks. The power flattened her until she was facedown on the ground. She could not hold them off. She could not disrupt their combined wills.
We have her! We have her! Corriveaux’s thoughts blasted at her.
An axe whirled and struck an oncoming soldier. Argus howled.
Then a hand struck the back of Maia’s neck and she slumped into the dirt and forest debris. Her ears rang with a tinny sound, a high squealing noise that cut through the commotion.
No! No! Corriveaux’s thoughts were desperate as her unconsciousness released her from his grip. She was grateful for that at least.
Strong hands picked her up. Then she could remember nothing.
CHAPTER FIVE
Lady Deorwynn
Maia fidgeted with excitement, unable to keep from smoothing the front of her gown as she watched Pent Tower loom ever closer. The carriage wheels clacked and clattered on the rounded cobblestones, and though its progress was slowed by all the activity in the street, a mounted escort bearing the tunics of Comoros helped move things along. It had been almost four years since she had seen the castle, had been home, and her heart churned with excitement. She had mastered the language of the Pry-rians during her stay in Bridgestow and was looking forward to demonstrating her knowledge to her father. She was nearly thirteen and had grown physically as well as mentally during her long absence from her father’s court. She understood the workings of a Privy Council. She valued the advice of wise leaders and had listened diligently to their tutoring. Some of her decisions had been controversial, but her father had never countermanded her. She secretly hoped he would be proud of her accomplishments.