She felt the burst of magic that was sent out as Nasally Voice simultaneously yelled "Who's there!?" The spell intended to reveal her presence, obviously did nothing to expose her. They would have to find her the hard way. But she questioned the practicality of running back to Caval - he could be affected by their magic. Besides, her best option was to attack them before they discovered that she was immune. Unless they recognized her as that "Seeker bitch", she thought wryly.
She doubted it. She was too nondescript and she certainly hadn't interacted with them much before. Probably not since the Academy days, she reasoned, if at all. If they were Conal's underlings they would have come up through the Academy, though they seemed several years older than her or Caval judging by the gray hairs in Gravelly voice's beard.
Feeling for her knives, she backed away from the statue so she could get a running start. She was better off running straight at them - especially if they thought they were capable of taking her down with their magic.
"Shit," Said Nasally voice when he spotted her, "One of the clanspeople. GET HER!" He yelled at Gravelly Voice, stooping to grab the spellbook and frantically working at the spell that had previously failed to release the dragon egg.
in the distant back of her mind, she was amused that he thought she was a clansperson. She supposed if he had encountered them as recently as she had, he would think of that. She had some of the look about her.
Gravelly Voice would have been a more than formidable foe for her - had he been planning a physical attack rather than relying on his magic. He was her height but stockily built with a broad, well muscled chest and shoulders. All physical traits that could have easily taken her down. He bared his teeth and she felt his magic build as she stampeded toward him, willing every ounce of energy she had into the churning of her legs on the slippery smooth stone floor, a knife in each hand.
She flung one at him - she knew he would stop it, and it was best to let him divert his magic to stopping the object rather than stopping her - he couldn't stop her of course, but she didn't want him to know that just yet.
Adrenaline pumped through her veins like lightning. She was a mountain storm, crashing through trees and The thrown knife clattered to the floor and Gravelly Voice laughed heartily in satisfaction. "Think you can get me with a wee knife little girl?" He built up his magic again - he was taking much longer to build than he should be.
Definitely tapping out of magic. Blayre thought with some degree of satisfaction.
She sucked in air and grimly pressed on toward him, with as much speed as she could drum up. Vaguely she felt Caval's magic behind her, it's familiar coolness stroking the channels of her sense like cool fingers running through her hair.
Hold back. Not yet. She thought at Caval, wishing again that he could hear her thoughts.
With satisfaction, she felt Gravelly Voice's magic peak and he released it with enough force that it should have sent her flying backwards, head over ass, her entire body splattering on the wall behind her.
The look of shock that registered briefly on his face when that didn't happen, made her grin wickedly as she launched herself at him like a one of the mountain wolves taking down a massive buck. She was a wolf with knives and fists.
He was down far too easily as one of her knives pierced between his ribs and up into his heart. She pulled the knife back out with a sickening crunch, and turned her attention to the blond mage.
It was then that Nasally Voice grabbed the egg, scooping it up into his arms, and taking off with it as the blue light winked out and Blayre tripped over the slickness of Gravelly Voice's blood on the floor. Distantly, sickeningly, she realized she had killed the man without even knowing his name.
And then hands were on her, and she tried writhing away from them, and out of them. She shrieked, battering her fists against the hands that clasped around her chest, arms beneath her own armpits holding her tightly secure.
"Stop it Blayre." Caval's voice hissed in her ear, as she thrashed. "I've got you, I've got you." His voice was earnest as he righted her and set her on her feet. "Are you okay?" He lit one of the mage-light orbs, and searched her face with such concern that she wondered if he could ever think of her in the way that Gravelly Voice had described Conal's take on what their relationship could be - some miserable forced thing. Perhaps the translation of his look was that he was glad that he had preserved something so potentially valuable.
Blayre nodded numbly and he pressed her up against him, her face melding into his chest. She felt comforted, despite herself and her current misgivings and relaxed her shoulders into him.
"Let's go." He murmured into her hair, and then held her away from him, "Slowly though. It's too dark to be running full speed through here." He whispered, steadying her. She hadn't realized she was shaking and still clinging to him.
"Ok," She whispered past throat that was raw with yelling and thick with emotion. Everything that had just happened mere minutes ago felt like years.
Caval started forward, the light dimmed to almost nothing. She trailed along behind him, clasping the hand that he stretched out behind him.
"Can you feel his magic?" Caval asked, once they had gotten a little further.
"Barely," She whispered back. "He's drained himself almost to the last drop."
There was a pause, "That's good." Said Caval thoughtfully. "Then I can certainly take him on."
And now, not just because he had the dragon's egg, but also because of the vile words that man had said about her, she wanted Caval to destroy him.
They moved as quickly as possible through the cave, under Blayre's direction, until she could no longer feel Nasally Voice's magic tugging at her sense like a lead rope. Well, it had been more like a single thread, ready to break at any ounce of pressure.
"Can you feel the dragon egg though? The magic you felt before?"
They had stopped to take a few swigs of water. The cavern seemed endless. Falling into it had been a lot easier than getting out, Blayre thought. Not that she wanted to experience that ever again.
Blayre reached deep within herself, but shook her head, "Everything down here feels like that ancient magic."
"Maybe there are more of them," Caval suggested, and Blayre wasn't sure if she hoped that he was right or wrong.
"What are their names?" She asked, out of the blue, as they passed a wall of carved stone - front facing dragon heads with each scale in precise detail. The nostrils were flared, and Blayre felt obligated to shrink back from them as they passed through, afraid they might let out a burst of dragonfire at any moment.
"Whose names?" Asked Caval. He was still holding the dim magelight, and it cast a glow over his face. He looked more drawn and haggard than Blayre had ever seen him. She could have easily traced a finger down each of the lines, framing his cheeks. It was like he had aged overnight.
"Those mages."
"Ah," He said. "And how do you know that I know their names?"
Blayre felt frozen at that. Well, for one they know more about my intended future than I do apparently. But she chose to steer clear from that subject, however interested she was in learning the details of it.
"They mentioned your name - and the book. And Conal." She added as an afterthought.
Caval scuffed a not-so-polished boot against the smooth ground. "Their names are Hans and Bartley. Well," He glanced back in the direction they had come from. "His name was Hans."
Blayre paled at the thought of the stout, roughly voiced man. Hans. She corrected herself, swallowing a wave of nausea. Perhaps it had been better not knowing.
"He deserved it, you know." Caval said soothingly, "It was either kill or be killed. And as someone who knows Hans' past..." Caval's voice trailed off and she saw his throat bob in a swallow. She rested a hand on his arm. He had been trying to comfort her, but it seemed that in doing so he had drug up a less than pleasant piece of personal history.
"You can talk about it. If you need to." She offered.
He shook his head definitively, "Normally, I would take you up on that offer, my dear Blayre, but right now we definitely should focus on the task at hand." He placed a hand firmly on her shoulder and she reddened. My dear, Blayre. She shivered at the thought, but she wasn't certain if it was a good or bad kind of shiver. Mere hours ago, when they had so recently survived what could have been a fall to their deaths, the kiss had felt right. Realizing potential feelings for Caval had been simple.
But it seemed as though years, perhaps decades, had passed since that moment - Moon and Sun she had killed a man since then. She had never killed someone face-to-face. Had never watched the light leave someone's eyes at her own hand - a job that should be left to the God of Death. Sure she'd killed before - but at a distance. With a bow. It had been... impersonal.
"Okay," She took a deep breath. "Later though... when we're out of here," She waved an arm to the seemingly endless darkness surrounding them. "I would like to lend an open ear, as you always have for me." And I would also certainly like to discuss our potential arrange marriage.
It was ridiculous, she thought. Arranged marriages in Emares were not legal unless both involved persons agreed to it. That of course, didn't rule out the possibility of blackmail - Blayre was sure that many a person had succumbed to a less than desireable marriage. It was easy, especially with noble children, to threaten to cut them off from their inheritance for not agreeing to a marriage - and there were no laws against that.
Though, Blayre considered, glancing up at her companion as they began moving again, It seems that perhaps they're having him give it a go without the whole blackmail bit. But she still struggled to see Caval as anything but genuine. And when she looked back at their friendship over the past several months... nothing stood out as forced or wrong to her. Even the kiss they'd shared hadn't been pushy or obvious in any way.
Twelve hells, Blumore. She thought. Here you are stumbling around in a pitch black cavern, and these are the things you're fretting over, you're no better than Ainslee. The thought of her friend, sent a brief pang through her chest. She took a deep breath to clear her mind of silly romantic (or unromantic) thoughts, letting the air out slowly through her mouth. She had a feeling she would need all the focus and clarity she could muster before they got out of this mess.