Bound (6 page)
Authors: Chris Michaels,Reema Farra
“The t-time you got in a f-f-fight at the Mid-Summer Feast?”
Jason grinned. “Four-to-two and we still kicked butt.”
“And the Festival of F-fire?” T reminded him.
“Six-to-two and we woulda kicked butt if the Dean hadn’t–”
“And two days ago?”
“I get the point.” Jason smiled. “We make a good team.”
“No! My point is . . . ” T paused. “That was
t-too
close.”
“Too
awesome
you mean! We have to go back!”
“No way! We almost got k-killed!”
Jason just shook his head. “My dad is General Everett and we all know who
your
dad is. They wouldn’t dare!”
T let a pause hang between them for a moment. “Do they really want Broderick Diamond to be k-king?”
“Don’t be stupid. Ilsa doesn’t have kings!”
“
My
country has a k-king,” T countered.
Jason grinned. “Your country’s king is an even bigger
tigri
than you are.”
T’s eyes flashed. “Take it back!”
Jason laughed. “Fine. You’re the bigger
tigri
.”
“That’s not what I mean–”
Jason changed the subject. “I wish we were brothers.”
“We practically are,” T replied. “Just b-born in different countries.”
Brothers.
A wild look lit up Jason’s eyes.
Always wanted a brother.
“Why are you looking like–”
“We should be
blood
brothers!” Jason blurted. “Forever. No matter what happens, we always have each other’s back.”
T raised an eyebrow. “So I always s-save you when you get in trouble?”
“And I help you. Like when you can’t talk to girls.”
“Hey, I don’t wanna t-t-talk to g-girls.”
“Trust me you will. And you won’t know what to say.”
T considered him for a moment. “What do we do?”
“Take the oath. Say it with me.
“By Blood and Heart and Spit and Bone
By Moons and Night and Majick’s Own
We become brothers – no matter what”
Jason pulled out his knife and cut into each of their hands.
Warm blood trickled onto their palms
“But if this promise is broken
Our eyes will rot and our brains will melt
And Gorgaricks will feast on our flesh.”
Jason spit into his palm. T did the same.
“So with a shake, we vow
To become brothers, stronger than blood
They shook hands.
“Forever.”
“Majick flows as a mighty River, strong and swift. But as the Scarlett Child taught us, the River can be tamed.
Magicians build Dams on the River by the Treatus.
Enchanters bind the majickal Phantoms to their bidding.
Sorcerers seek Wild Majick.
Our first foray will be that of the Treatus: of spells and charms.”
– Compendium of the Treatus
Volume 1: On the Power of Majicks
CHAPTER FIVE
F
rosty night nipped the back of Hannah’s neck, competing with a majick campfire that blazed mellow green so as to not to give off too much light. Travis worried about patrols. Hannah couldn’t think about that. Life at Camp Thane seemed a thousand miles away. This was the farthest she’d ever been from her masters. The closest to freedom.
Still, feelings of sorrow and longing threatened to overwhelm her. To distract herself, Hannah practiced the majickal symbols she used to create the wall of ice.
Travis plopped beside her. “That can be dangerous if you don’t know the Treatus Runes.”
Hannah looked away.
“Each Rune,” he said, “stands for a word, mostly actions.” He drew in the dirt. In spite of herself, Hannah watched.
“This one is Fire,” he continued, “this one for Water. You can combine the Runes into spells that control the flow of majick. Draw this Rune in your palm.”
She traced the symbol.
“Runes are only half of a spell. The River of Majick flows through your emotions. Make yourself feel intrigued. Not too strong. Something more like curiosity.”
Curiosity wasn’t hard. She was surrounded by mysteries. Who was Travis? How did he know who her grandfather was? Why did he talk like Jason was still alive?
A sensation like water flowed over her palm. A strange tingle. A prick. She instinctively closed her hand. After a moment, something moved in her fist. Slowly she unraveled her fingers. In her hand sat something like a four-legged spider with two paper-thin wings and no visible head.
It was there, but not; faded and scratchy like an old photograph except in color with ever-changing mixtures of yellow, black and green. She had seen photography once, when Jason had stolen camera equipment to take her picture. She had been terrified of getting caught. But his touch had melted her fear. He had said she looked so beautiful in the photo.
Cold fingers ran up her back. Not a chill or a shiver.
Real
fingers.
But fingers that felt comforting in a strange way. Familiar and tender, if distant.
A strange feeling like someone was watching.
Travis hadn’t touched her. No one else was around.
She must have been more tired than she thought.
Just then, the bug bit her. Sharp pain exploded in her hand.
“It’s an Animate,” Travis explained, “A conjure. A simple Treatus Spell. The Animate will carry your message anywhere.”
The pain disappeared, replaced by a connection with the insect almost like she could see through its hidden eyes.
“What do you want it to carry?” Travis asked. “Just think of a message.”
Hannah’s mind blanked.
“There has to be someone who wants to know you’re safe. The Animate will find them.”
Her throat tightened.
Tell Jason I still love him.
The Animate took to the sky and vanished. For an instant the cold fingers returned.
That was stupid,
she cursed herself.
What’s it gonna do? Talk to Jason’s tombstone?
”
“Not terrible.” Travis yawned. “Maybe he really
was
your grandfather.”
She opened her mouth to ask who her grandfather was, but her voice still refused to be heard.
Travis continued speaking, “majick is natural, it’s part of the world. Part of Anadell. Pretty much anyone can use majick, but some have a real knack for it the way some are born musicians or athletes.” He began scribbling in the dirt again. “There are three basic ways to use majick, but the Treatus is the only safe way to
control
majick. To make it do what you want. To stop
majick
from controlling
you
. There are a dozen basic Runes. You’ll need to know these and their basic emotions to cast spells. Study them tonight.”
Her? Cast spells? Her, a magician?
She wanted to ask questions, but he turned away and lay down.
Hannah tried to sleep, but couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone. Someone was here – someone besides Travis. Maybe it was the stress of the day. Maybe she was just going crazy. Still, she could almost hear whispers. What was crazier is that the whispers reminded her of Jason.
She tried to distract herself by memorizing the symbols: Fire, Light, Control, Darkness, Conjure. She drew them over and over in the dirt, swirls and loops and dots. The letters curved as if made from water. Danced on the ground almost like they were alive. Powerful. Majickal.
But didn’t understand what Travis had meant by emotions. Why did it matter what she was
feeling
when she cast a spell? Hannah tried to replicate one of the little spells Jason had shown her. He could control an earthworm – make it dance and crawl any way he liked. As much as she concentrated, she couldn’t get any majick to work.
Morning took forever to arrive. Dried meat and berries made up breakfast, more than enough for Hannah. Travis, on the other hand, seemed to struggle. He wasn’t comfortable camping, or sleeping in the cold or eating tasteless berries. Despite his soldier’s uniform and broken nose, she knew he wasn’t a rugged man. Not a scrapper or survivor. His speech was too proper. Hands too soft.
After breakfast, he produced a simple dress from a cash of travel supplies he had hidden inside a cluster of bushes. Hannah changed from her stolen infantry uniform. Travis announced they were going to Valin City and the two broke camp. He talked very little and Hannah still couldn’t find her voice, so the day drug on.
Every step whispered Jason’s name. Each heart beat felt like his against her chest. He would appear out of the corner of her eye, just to vanish as soon as she turned her head – like a terrible game of hide and seek. Eventually, night fell. She studied the thick, black sky which only made it worse. Memories of previous nights swarmed her mind. The night in the woodshed when she first knew she loved him. The night of the Festival of Fire. So many nights it seemed like all they had were nights, secrets and darkness.
And, of course, the moons.
Two and a half moons stared back at her. One large, red and dim. Another, small and bright blue. Between them, hung like a crooked smile, the ragged half of what was once whole moon. The moons had many names, but the Ilsans called them Amani, Thane and the broken moon, Ilsa. According to legend, Thane and Amani were such passionate lovers that barbarian magicians grew jealous. They plotted and schemed and turned the other gods against Thane, finally destroying him. Amani was so enraged that she ripped Ilsa in half and spread its dust along the Western coast. The Ilsan race rose from the ash and overthrew the gods and magicians. Amani, now the last of the gods, went away, leaving the people of Ilsa to bring order to a chaotic, majick-ridden world. The moons were just here to remind the people of their destiny.
But Hannah believed something else. A forbidden tale Jason had told her. The one her people believed before the Ilsans conquered them. Her moons watched over them, she and Jason. Kept all their secrets. The moons protected her now.
She was no longer a slave. Not a Taker of the Dead or Ilsan subject. Camp Thane had faded in the distance and, somehow, there was hope. She might see Jason again. Might kiss him. Might
really
feel his heartbeat.
Warmth replaced her cold emptiness. Air built in her lungs. Words in her throat. She had so much to say; so many questions for Travis. It seemed her body would finally let the words escape. She raised her head to speak.
Ahead, three soldiers blocked the road.
One of the sentries jumped off his motor-bike and strode toward Hannah and Travis. “This is an official Republican checkpoint. Curfew was two hours ago. What business do you have in Valin City?”
Travis inched closer to Hannah. He placed his arm around her shoulder.
The approaching soldier raised his rifle. “Identify yourselves.”
Travis directed Hannah in front of him. She was sure he could take care of the blockade, but why was
she
in front?
Like lightning, Travis’ free hand tore into Hannah’s shoulder. He pinned her arms behind her body and clamped his hand over her mouth. “Whatever you do, don’t speak.”
She caught sight of his face. Twisted. Cold.
“My name is Travis.” He forced her to her knees. “I have a slave for market.”
