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I don’t get the impression of any specific direction or purpose. It’s more like the energy is simply drifting in the air.
Just behind us, my men shift in their saddles. None of them can pick up on supernatural eddies the way I can.
“There’s magic being worked somewhere nearby,” I say for their benefit as well as to answer Sulla’s question. “Are you sure it’s from the scourge sorcerers?”
The older sorcerer purses her lips. “I can’t tell for certain. But it gives me the feeling of a large cistern dribbling water as it overflows. That much power in one place… I would expect a temple, but there are none nearby.”
Alek speaks quietly. “But a group of sacrificial accomplices could also wield that kind of power.”
“Exactly.”
He and the rest of our procession—royal soldiers, noble staff, Pimanian rebels, even my former general—look to me for confirmation. Whatever some of our allies might think of my magic, they see me as the expert on that subject. They barely know Sulla.
I wet my lips and turn my head again. Another whiff of energy quivers over me.
What are they working on out here for traces of their magical practice to be seeping through the woods? What new threat are they conjuring?
We’re only a couple of hours’ ride from our current stronghold. If there are scourge sorcerers performing their darkest magic nearby, it’s better for us to root them out and determine what new schemes they’re setting in motion before they have a chance to discover our presence.
If we can free more of their accomplices and weaken Lothar’s power that way, all the better. The more we can diminish the threat of retribution from the Order of the Wild, the easier it’ll be for our allies to take a stand with us, however Petra decides to make it.
On the other hand, I don’t want to lead two dozen followers into a battle on totally uncertain ground. My comrades came prepared to fight but expecting me to guide them.
I consider for a moment, uneasiness twisting in my belly. “Let’s move closer to get a better idea of what we’re dealing with. We should go ahead on foot—just a few of us to start.”
Stavros nods and makes a couple of gestures to the rest of our company that those with military training must understand. As I slide down from Toast’s back, he, Sulla, Rheave, and one of the soldiers follow suit.
We set off through the forest, Sulla and I remaining in the lead. I tread forward carefully so I can adjust my route with the minute shifts of the magic lacing the air.
For a few moments, it seems to grow stronger to the east. Then the impression dwindles, and I find myself backtracking onto a more northerly route. I can see what Sulla means about the magic feeling like stray dribbles rather than a focused effect.
But after maybe half an hour of rambling, a more solid sensation brushes my face. I ease toward it even more tentatively than before and stop in my tracks at its swift thickening.
I motion toward the terrain ahead of us. “This part of the forest is warded. If we go much farther, whoever set those wards will probably set off an alert.”
More proof that whatever the sorcerers are working on, it’s important. Or maybe they’ve simply become increasingly cautious after the raids we’ve already pulled off in the north.
Rheave steps up beside me without hesitation. “Let me see if I can break the magic so we can get closer.”
He glances over at me with a brief flick of his gaze toward Sulla as well. “There isn’t much chance anyone other than the scourge sorcerers would be protecting themselves like that, is there?”
Sulla shakes her head before I can answer. “The enchantment they’ve laid down is stronger than any I’ve felt from even a devout. No ordinary homesteader would have the means to place that kind of magic.” She shivers. “Our foes are formidable.”
As Rheave reaches his hands toward the wards, I study my former mentor. Sulla told me that was why she’d come—because even on her mountain, she became aware of the tragedies and violence spreading across the country. The Haven no longer felt secure.
She remembered what I’d said to her about us standing up to the blight of scourge sorcery together and decided to seek me out. Her magic led her to me.
I’m glad for her help, but I remember how she stole our equipment and tried to bar us from leaving the Haven. How she insisted that it was too dangerous for me to leave—not for my safety but everyone I’d encounter in the outside world.
She’s declared her loyalty to Petra and her siblings. She warned us of the magic she’d sensed on her journey so we could investigate it. But I have trouble completely trusting her just yet.
Rheave’s face hardens into a mask of concentration. His fingers twitch, sparks leaping between them.
The aura of magic in this part of the forest ripples and then fades away.
Stavros scans our surroundings. There’s still nothing visible but trees and underbrush.
“We should proceed cautiously but quickly from here,” he says. “We don’t know how long it’ll take before the sorcerers notice that their wards have been disabled.”
