Page 65 of The Dark Mage
The group smiled at each other—except Avonlee, whose eyes remained downcast, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.Ren’wyn mourned whatever suffering had left her like this and hoped she might comfort her intime.
The attention shifted to Ren’wyn and Fael.They exchanged a brief glance.
Fael went first.“My name is Fael,” he said.“I was trained as an imperial guard—but I’m also a berserker.I’ve been on the run for a year and a half since my captain discovered my magic.I’ve been searching for ways to dismantle the empire for nearly seven years.”
Ren’wyn took a breath and stepped forward.“My name is Ren’wyn, and I am a darkmage.”
A ripple of gasps spread through the group.Ren’wyn thought it was the mention of dark magic—until she saw their eyes shifting to Esrin with questioning looks.
“The Ren’wyn?”Sorya asked Esrin, incredulous.“Your woman from the Territories?How did you findher?”
Esrin shrugged.“By chance.”His tone sharpened.“And she’s not my woman.Ren’wyn and Fael have been traveling together.”
She hated the way he said it—the sneer behind that single word:together.His judgment settled heavily in the air.Several people pointedly lookedaway.
“A dark mage?”Avonlee’s whisper broke the silence.She stared at Ren’wyn—not with fear, but with curiosity.Maybe evenhope.
“Yes,” Ren’wyn continued, grateful for the diversion.“From the Territories.My power was passed from my grandfather to my mother.When my father tried to marry me off, I ran.Fael helped me escape.He protected me, and we’ve supported each other ever since.We’ve traveled through the Dark Forest and Terrepin.I’m also an herbalist with some skill in northern plants.”
Avonlee’s expression didn’t change, though her pale fingers unclenched slightly.Wilenrut placed a hand on her shoulder, and she blinked before lowering her eyes again.
Esrin stepped forward, his voice measured, like a speech he’d rehearsed.
“We’d like to extend an invitation to work with us—to fight for the freedom of those with magic and to free our world from the empire’sgrip.”
Ren’wyn and Fael shared another glance.The tension between them was heavy—the unspoken question of who they were to each other and whether they fit inhere.
Esrin’s half-smile returned.“We’re planning to ambush a tax caravan.Come along.Miguel, Alen, Lia, and I will lead the mission while Leta stays to guard the camp.Watch what we do, and then make your decision.”
Fael’s warm fingers brushed lightly against Ren’wyn’s leg through her pants—a quiet reassurance.
“All right,” he said.“We’ll come and see what you do.”
19
“Here’s the plan,” Miguel began, spreading a sketch of an area eight miles south where a main thoroughfare ran east toward the Capital.“The tax wagons shift onto this smaller road after their last collection in Tuen.This particular caravan has been tormenting villagers—threatening women and children to force out money and sometimes just for fun.I want to stop them and return the stolen money to the people suffering along their route.Three villages have already sent word, hoping for funds to help treat victims with serious injuries.”
Ren’wyn’s stomach churned at the details.
“We’ll intercept the caravan here—on this bridge over the Sorvet River.This stretch of forest borders the TuenRoad.”
He traced the route with tan fingers, skillfully indicating the markers on the map.Flipping the page over, he revealed a close-up sketch of the wooded section.
“I was thinking we’d set a cart here with a broken axle and wheel.Lia can pose as a traveler asking for help, and Esrin can play the daft husband,” Miguel explained.
Laughter rippled through the group as Esrin pulled a comically annoyedface.
“Dress accordingly—hooded cloaks.The rest of us will be masked.”
Miguel’s gaze sharpened.“Esrin, you’ll call water from the river to muddy the road.There’s a dip just before the bridge where water collects after rain.A wagon that heavy will get stuck forsure.”
Ren’wyn glanced at Fael and could tell he was holding back questions and opinions.She wondered what he was thinking as she swallowed against the knot in her stomach.A job with strangers.If only she could take Fael aside and talk it through.Instead, she studied the plans intensely, forcing herself to focus and resist the urge to lace her fingers withhis.
“Keep your hoods tight,” Miguel reminded Esrin andLia.
“We know, Miguel,” Lia replied, exasperated.Her voice was soft but melodic.“No one should see enough of our faces to recognize us.”
Miguel continued.“Once the wagon’s stuck, we’ll take out the guards.Esrin can retreat to the trees and use his magic.Lia, pick them off with your bow.I’ll cut down at least one or two when I emerge from under the bridge.”
