Maggie of the Mist - Madeleine M. (best ebook reader for pc txt) 📗

Moments went by in complete silence. Only the light sound of nearby water dared break it.

 

Wood snapping above him was the only warning he got before Angus fell from high branches and plowed him into the dirt. Keith spat out grit and curses. Two rough hands pulled him to his feet. Keith whirled on Angus. “Um, sorry. Sometimes I get caught up in—” Angus’s awkward apology was cut short as Keith’s fist connected with his jaw. The boy stumbled backwards; hand on his bruising face, eyes alight with rage. He released a raging cry of his own and lunged at Keith.

 

Honestly, Keith had never in his life fought such strength. He had been so surprised at Angus’s rapid recovery that he didn’t move when the boy charged him. He lifted Keith over his head like a rag doll and threw him in to a tree. The air rushed from his chest once again and Angus yanked him upright and propped him against the tree. The boy stared up at him under dirty blond bangs. His blue eyes dared Keith to try hitting him again. Keith took the dare and spat in his face. Deep down he knew he was being a fool, the logical part of his mind screamed it, but his pride wasn’t about to let him live it down.

 

Angus ground his teeth and ripped Keith from the bark. Keith doubled over as Angus punched him in the stomach. He tripped over his feet and the boy planted a firm kick on his back. Keith wouldn’t be surprised if Angus’s foot was permanently imprinted on his skin. Keith swung a few feeble punches that Angus dodged easily. He felt the ground under him soften as he neared to edge of the creek. “Wait!” he cried, but Angus kept advancing. He was three strides from Keith when he jumped. Extending his foot, the boy spun in mid-air and struck Keith in the center of his chest with his heel.

 

Time slowed as his feet left the damp ground. Angus’s hit had him once again soaring through the fading daylight. A strangled scream escaped his lips before he plunged into the freezing water.

 

With no sunlight to illuminate the creek bed, Keith lost most of his bearings. Darkness began to close in. The water was shallow enough for him to stand and it might have come to his waist; but he ached all over and his body wouldn’t listen. He thrashed around, trying desperately to break the surface. His lungs screamed for air. He began to go numb from the temperature of the water.

 

He was faintly aware of someone calling his name and the funny muffled sound of something crashing through the water while his ears were under it. A pair of arms encircled him and pulled him through the cold darkness. When his head broke the surface, he gasped. Fresh, beautiful air burned his throat and forced him to cough up the water it was replacing.

 

Keith was dragged to the bank and onto dry ground. His rescuer kneeled beside him. Try as he might, Keith couldn’t get his eyes to focus on them. They grew heavier and soon consciousness was no more.

 

*****

 

Maggie stared down at the Tine’la’s unconscious form. She was so tempted to slap him awake she had to sit on her hands. Angus hovered just outside of her field of vision. When she looked up at him, he turned sheepish and averted his eyes. “Alright, muscles,” Maggie sighed standing up and brushing off her knees. She pointed to Keith. “Take him back to camp, please. Get the fire nice and hot. I need to find some flower dew.” The boy nodded meekly, slung Keith over his shoulders and made his way through the trees.

 

Maggie scanned the ground around her, her eyes searching. “If I were a magical flower, where would I hide?” she said aloud to herself. No sooner had the words left her mouth, the stone around her neck started to grow warm and softly glow. She started to walk to the right. The stone grew colder and dimmed as she took a few steps. She turned and walked in the opposite direction. The stone warmed up again and gave off a noticeable light. Maggie kept walking, the power from the stone stronger with each step.

 

The pendant was soon a brilliant light in comparison to the quickly fading day. Maggie treaded with careful steps. If she happened to crush a blossom, its natural minor magic would be destroyed as well. It didn’t take long to spot a patch of the hard to find blue-purple flowers nestled among the giant roots of a colossal tree. After sending up a thankful prayer to the Maiden, Maggie collected an armful of blooms, making sure to leave a fair number behind to allow the patch to continue. With her magical flowers tucked gently in a pouch she made by lifting the hem of her cotton shirt, Maggie marched back to the others.

 

When she reached to fire lit tents, she headed straight for her packs. Gently placing the herbs in a large bowl, Maggie took out a dry pair of pants and went back out into the woods to change. She returned a little warmer and hung her wet things over a makeshift clothes line by the fire. Then she was over in her packs again.

 

 Once retrieving the pot and brace, she walked over to the fire filled the pot with water and placed it on the hot flames. Keith was wrapped up in several blankets, shivering. Maggie continued with her work, picking the petals off carefully and letting them flutter into the boiling water. The Tine’la rolled over, but she didn’t lift her eyes. He moaned loudly. She looked up and gave him a flat stare. Vika and Angus sat on logs around the fire, but neither moved. Keith shifted noisily and made pained sounds. Maggie sighed and walked over to him.

 

“Do you drink tea?” she asked impatiently. He must not have been expecting that because he made a face. “A simple yes or no will do, thank you.” Keith shook his head, shame faced. “Fine. What about cider?” When he nodded meekly, she returned it and continued making the tonic. He made no other sound or movement as she worked. Maggie made many trips back and forth between her things and the boiling pot. No one spoke. The crackling flames made the only sound. Occasionally, Angus would add some wood to keep them warm as the first stars twinkled in the dark sky. The Warrior’s Constellation – an inspirational group of stars put there by the Maiden during the Kingdom’s Divide – could be seen by the time Maggie finished. It was harder and longer to infuse the flowers’ magic in to cider than it was tea, but she still finished it.

 

“Drink it.” Maggie ordered Keith as he shifted into a sitting position. She shoved the mug of sweet smelling liquid into his shaking hands.

 

“This doesn’t look like cider,” Keith complained as he stared down at the greenish brew. “What are—?”

 

“She said ‘drink’,” Vika whispered from across the fire. “Don’t make me pour it down your throat.” Keith quickly gulped down the mug and made a sour face as he handed it back to Maggie.

 

“It should kick in soon,” Maggie nodded as she clean up the mess she made. “Just… Just try to stay still while, please.” She didn’t think it was worth elaborating when she saw the face the Tine’la gave her. Instead she completely ignored him and replaced her things in the saddle bags. That was when Maggie noticed a particular emblem embroidered on one of his bags. A double-edged sword in gold thread. The moment she laid eyes on it the stone seared her skin.

 

Maggie tried to swallow the gasp that came to her throat as her already tender skin was burned. She reached frantically for the necklace. The normally black surface glowed a dull blue, which only brightened as she moved it closer to the symbol. Maggie resisted the urge to smack her had against the nearest tree. She had been so blind! This man was a king’s spy, or at least an Elite’s spy. The sword was of the King’ No wonder he hadn’t run, he was there to gather information and report them.

 

Some of the pieces were starting to fit together. They had met him right after the first attack. He had chased her into the forest. The stone hadn’t been encouraging her to trust him, it was warning her. Maggie cast a quick glance over her shoulder and saw Keith starting to fidget. The serum was starting to take effect. Maggie groaned. Collecting her thoughts, she stood up, brushed off her pant legs, and walked back over to the fire.

 

“If you’re feeling better, you should probably change your clothes. There’s a thick patch of bushes over there.” Maggie told Keith, pointing to the underbrush. She poured herself a small mug of tea and sat down on a log to warm up.

 

“I don’t think that will be necessary, thank you.” Keith replied as soon as she was settled. Maggie looked across the flames at him. Water still dripped from his, his lips were purplish from the chill he would feel once the flower dew wore off. He was going to be a wreck tomorrow. Angus and Vika both cocked their eyebrow at him. Maggie only shrugged. If he wanted to get sick, let him. It shouldn’t take them that long to get to the capital and Redd could always just heal him – as long as he didn’t get too sick.

 

The fire was dying by the time the other had gone to bed. It was only Maggie and Keith awake. She was on first watch and he was still jittery from the spiked cider. Not once did she let herself look at him. Her eyes were glued to the sky, trying to find constellations. The Tine’la, on the other hand, openly stared at her. Green emeralds following her every move. Eventually, she broke down and talked to him.

 

“What are you looking at?”

 

“You. I thought it was pretty obvious.” He seemed to relax a bit with something besides the chirping frogs to fill the night air. Even for a noble, he was cocky.

 

“Why?” She looked back at him warily. He hadn’t been expecting a response because his face was plainly shocked. She decided to risk another question. “Are you a noble?” His face paled. Nailed it, she thought triumphantly. She didn’t want to give away too much about herself, but still wanted to pry. “Your manners gave you away,” She paused. “And maybe your clothes, your weapons, and your uselessness for the basics of survival.”

 

“Perhaps I am a noble, so what?” Keith tried to sound passive, but a hint of fear danced on his deep voice. Maggie smirked in to the snapping flames.

 

“Do you know a stable hand by the name of Seaver?” Maggie’s repressed laughter escaped in her words. His eyes snapped to hers, questioning. “I thought you might,” There was no way she would say how she knew. “He came through my village the other night. He was exhausted so I gave him some tea with naturally magiced flower dew. That’s what I gave you. Seaver’s always been a good friend. I’m sure you take good care of you,” She met his eyes that glowed in the firelight; her heart sped up a little. “He is quite fond of you, you know.”

 

They were quiet for a long while after. Maggie continued her search for pictures in the stars. Keith sat thoughtfully gazing into the fire. He didn’t blink when it was Angus’s watch, and he took Maggie’s spot by the fire. Lying down on her cold bedding, she wondered if she did the right thing in telling him what she knew.