A terrifying dread worms its way into me. I think of small desert vipers. There’s that same look in Vogel’s eyes—fast, deadly, and completely devoid of mercy.
“We’ve just apprehended a sizable contingent of Kin Hoang, moving in the direction of your carriage,” Vogel says to Lukas, his voice smooth as a blade. “They were carrying maps of your family’s estate. And they had records containing every last detail regarding your command and your travels.” Vogel’s gaze intensifies. “So, Commander Grey, all this begs the obvious question—what could you possibly have, besides this one rune stone, that the Vu Trin want?”
Everything slows to a dreamlike pace, everything around us muffled, receding. Lukas swivels his head to meet my gaze for a split second, each blink a wave of deepening comprehension washing over him as his eyes lock on to mine with ferocious urgency.
He knows. Lukas knows.
He knows I’m the Black Witch.
There’s no chance to react as everything snaps back into vivid focus.
Lukas’s face morphs into an impassive mask as he turns back to Vogel. “I don’t know, Your Excellency.”
I inwardly shrink, like a mouse backed against a wall watching the cats convene, knowing it’s only a matter of time before they take a very strong interest in me.
“It’s one thing to play at war games with Chi Nam,” Vogel says to Lukas. “Quite another to stage an arbitrary attack on her. When were you planning on reporting the stolen rune stone?”
Lukas’s jaw tightens. “When it became relevant.”
It’s clear from Vogel’s icy grin that this is exactly the wrong answer. He turns to Lukas’s father. “Send out the Fourth Division to help secure the Pass.” He fixes his gaze back on Lukas. “Commander Grey, you’re to accompany me back to the Valgard Base. We have quite a bit to discuss.”
Vogel’s guards move in around us.
Lukas bows respectfully to Vogel. “Of course, Your Excellency. May I request a moment to secure my fastmate’s protection?”
Vogel sets his serpent eyes back on me, and tendrils of Shadow snakes rush through my lines. I stiffen, frozen in place and unable to even pull in a breath, all my focus wrenched toward the Shadow Wand Vogel has sheathed at his side, his fist curled around its hilt. Vogel turns back to Lukas, and the spell breaks, air rushing back into my lungs as my body is freed up and Vogel nods his assent.
Lukas strides to Thierren, who is standing to one side with the guards who accompanied us here. He gives Thierren a series of instructions I can only half make out as Vogel watches them both with malefic intensity.
Lukas and Thierren speak for a moment longer, the other soldiers, Lachlan Grey, and priestly Silvern falling into low conversation with each other. Lachlan deferentially asks Vogel a question, drawing his serpent gaze.
Seemingly taking advantage of Vogel’s break in focus, Lukas strides back to me with a quick glance toward Vogel. “I’ll come for you when I can,” he states, his expression and tone oddly formal. He embraces me stiffly and leans in for a farewell kiss.
As his lips make contact with my cheek, his hand clenches around my arm, tight as a vise. “Your power,” he hisses into my ear, too low for anyone to hear. “How much can you access?”
I choke out my whispered answer, terrified. “All of it.”
Lukas pulls back. And when his eyes lock on to mine, I’m horrified to see fear there. Fear for me. He leans in again, his hand clenching harder, his whisper full of fierce urgency. “Tell no one.”
Feeling unable to breathe, I force a nod. I can see him trying to convey an extreme sense of danger with his expression alone.
Mage Vogel’s Level Five guards close in around us, waiting for Lukas to follow.
Lukas releases my arm and shoots me one more brief, intense look. It scares me, how hesitant he is to leave. Without him I’m incredibly vulnerable. But there’s no choice. Not with Vogel waiting.
Masking his feelings, Lukas gives me one final perfunctory bow.
And then he’s gone.
CHAPTER TEN
ORDERS
ELLOREN GARDNER
Sixth Month
Valgard, Gardneria
Escape.
It’s foremost in my mind as I scan the stout backs of the guards stationed outside my bedroom’s diamond-paned windows.
Anxiety tightens my chest.
More soldiers on horseback are riding in just beyond the guards outside. I turn and take in my bedroom’s heavy Ironwood door, knowing two more soldiers are posted just outside this room.
A trap closing in on both me and Lukas.
An image of Vogel’s malevolent Shadow Wand fills my mind as well as a remembrance of his terrifying magic. Magic he’ll consume me with if he finds out what I am.
But then the vision of another Wand blazes into being—a Wand able to send out the image of a starlight tree to wind around and destroy Vogel’s Shadow tree.
The Wand I’m a Bearer of.
The Wand of Myth.
My actions hidden by the bed’s side, I kneel down and hastily retrieve the Wand of Myth from inside the lining of my travel sack, lantern and woodstove light flickering over me as, with trembling hands, I fold back the edges of the handkerchief the Wand is wrapped in. Even though its ability to channel magic went dormant when Trystan last tried to wield it, power leaps through my lines at the sight of it, straining toward the Wand’s pale wood.
Everything in me yearns to touch it, and I’m careful not to let its spiraling wood make contact with the skin of my wand hand. Instead, I stare at the Wand, almost mesmerized. Its wood is so beautiful—opalescent with an underlying glow.
As if it contains a guiding star in its bright depths.
A frisson passes through my lines as I’m caught up in the sense that the Wand is staring back at me.
Without warning, an image of white birds explodes into my vision, then a Shadow tree, then a flash of bright light, one image after another in staccato bursts. My head jerks back, a rush of energy coursing over me as I’m filled with the sudden, innate sense that it’s desperately important to keep this Wand close.
And to not let Vogel get hold of it.
My pulse thundering, I wrap the handkerchief tight around the Wand, shove it into the side of my boot, and pull my skirts down over it.
My sense of danger surges, triggering the fearsome desire to press my hands onto every piece of wood in sight and release an inferno of fire.
Curling my wand hand into a fist, I sit down on one of the cushioned chairs set by the woodstove and pry the slivers of pine from the carriage out from under my nails. Then I slump forward and press my palms hard against my eyes, my breaths coming in a tight, irregular rhythm as I struggle to keep hold of myself.
Calm down, Elloren. You need to be strong. What would your brothers want you to do? What would all your loved ones want you to do?
Diana Ulrich’s fierce image fills my mind, my Lupine sister always so courageous in the face of any threat. I cling to the remembrance of Diana’s unflappable bravery as my breathing steadies and my heartbeat tamps down to a more normal rhythm.
My savage yearning for wood slightly abated, I sit up and rest my wand hand, palm up, on my knee and take in the curling black fastlines.
My gaze flits toward the guards stationed just outside the windows.
If Lukas doesn’t return, I can slink out the window and crouch down behind the maze of shrubs and then flee.
And they’ll promptly catch me.
I clench my wand hand tighter, snared by desperation.
Will Vogel send you to find me, Lukas? What am I going to do if he’s sent you away instead?
I’ll escape is what I’ll do.
Ha! If the Vu Trin don’t kill me first! And if they don’t succeed, the Gardnerians will quickly figure out the Vu Trin aren’t after Lukas
—they’re after me.
I sit there, mired in a fierce back-and-forth war with myself, as the sound of a door opening breaks into my thoughts and my pulse speeds up.
Heavy footsteps thud into the sitting room that abuts my bedroom, and I bolt up from the chair and quietly creep to my bedroom’s door.
Lachlan Grey’s ironhard voice booms out. “You’re dismissed.”
More heavy boots sound as the guards just outside my bedroom door walk away, their steps growing fainter until the door at the far end of the sitting room closes once more with a firm thud.
Quiet descends.
“So,” Lachlan Grey finally says, his words slow and even. “You’ve been stripped of rank.”
“Temporarily.”
Relief explodes through me at the sound of Lukas’s unfazed voice.
Sweet Ancient One, he’s here.
I slowly unfasten the door’s lock, praying Lukas’s father won’t hear the soft click of metal disengaging metal. I open the door a parchment-slim crack and peer through.
Lukas is standing by the room’s crackling fireplace, its guttering light cast over the bookshelves and tree-supported walls. There’s a clink of crystal on crystal as he pours himself a drink from a bloodred carafe. He picks up the flask and casually rests one elbow on the fireplace’s black granite mantel, his side to me as he sips his drink and watches his father through hawk-steady eyes.
His father matches his son’s coolly casual demeanor, one hand on the back of a chair, the other loosely on his hip, but I can feel the pent-up anger coming off of Lachlan Grey in waves.
“May I ask you why you had Chi Nam’s rune stone?” Lachlan’s words are dangerously clipped.
Lukas shoots him a cagey smirk. “A trophy.” He pulls the stone from his tunic’s pocket and tosses it to his father, who deftly catches it.
Lachlan considers the small onyx stone, its imprinted rune activated to glow a soft, otherworldly sapphire, and I wonder if Lukas has been testing its sorcery. Lachlan’s gaze darts back to his son. “Vogel allowed you to keep this?”
“For now.”
Lachlan frowns and turns the stone over in his hand. “The Vu Trin moved on the Thirteenth Division for one stolen rune stone?”
“I’ve made three recent attempts on Chi Nam’s life. Mock attempts, mind you. To make a point.” Lukas’s eyes gleam with mischief. “It seems to have annoyed them.”
Oh, Lukas. You cool liar.
Lachlan scowls, his voice taut with anger as he tosses the stone back. “Wipe that smirk off your face. You’ve provoked a war.”
“That they cannot win. That they’re exhausting all their Western forces on. For an ill-guided suicide mission fueled by pride.”
Lachlan glares at his son. “What did Vogel make of your games?”
Lukas considers his glass. “I think he was partly amused.” His expression darkens. “Partly not.”
“You have been sparring with that woman far too long.”
Lukas smiles, catlike. “She’s clever. Delightfully unpredictable.”
“This is no game.”
“So I’ve been told. I’m to redeem myself by killing her.” He shakes his head in obvious dismay. “A waste.”
“Lukas, you have talent and power, to be sure.” Lachlan’s biting off the words now. “But you would do well to have some of your brother’s commitment and his gravity. That woman is Vu Trin. And their most powerful sorceress, at that. And now, thanks to you, we’re embroiled in a war with her kind. Yet you speak of her with fondness. Where is your loyalty?”
Lukas’s expression hardens. “By sparring with her, Father, I learn what they can do. The limits of their rune sorcery.”
Lachlan grows quiet, seeming to consider the point.
Lukas swirls his glass absently, flashes of gold from the firelight reflecting off the crystal. “I have one month to assassinate Chi Nam, or Vogel’s revoking my command. And he’ll place me under the command of Damion Bane.”
“Perhaps an incentive you’ll understand and heed.”
The side of Lukas’s mouth lifts. “And I need to control my lovely fastmate.”
The hairs on the back of my neck bristle with alarm.
“The Gardner girl is trouble.” Lachlan scowls. “Your mother’s distraught over this fasting, and you know how I feel about the girl.”
“Yes, well, you’ve both forgotten what’s in her blood.”
Lachlan tips his head in consideration as the fireplace crackles. “She’s from the strongest of bloodlines, to be sure,” he tersely allows. “There is no finer line.”
“Vogel senses the power in her,” Lukas says, matter-of-fact. “He knows she can’t access it, but our children would likely be quite powerful. Vogel wants me to sire an army of Mages brimming with Carnissa Gardner’s blood.” He raises his glass slightly in a loose toast. “He’s insisting on a Sealing ceremony. Tomorrow night.”
The blood rushes from my head.
He’s lying. He has to be lying.
“Vogel will preside over the sacred occasion himself and reset the spell,” Lukas continues.
Shock blasts through me anew, the room seeming to shift, the walls closing in.
No. I can’t have that Shadow Wand anywhere near me.
Lukas takes another sip from his glass and looks at his father through narrowed eyes. “That’s how much power Vogel senses in her, Father. Enough to take an evening to see us properly sealed, even with Vu Trin staging war games along the Eastern Pass.”
When Lachlan finally speaks, his tone is astonished. “So, we’re to pull together your Sealing ceremony in one day’s time? With war breaking out?”
“The Vu Trin attack has been all but put down. And the Sealing can be a small affair.”
Lachlan’s tone grows rigid with anger. “Have you forgotten who you are?”
“I don’t have time for the nonsense attached to Sealing ceremonies.”
“High Mage Vogel is presiding!”
Stunned, I move a fraction away from the door, the full implications of a formal Sealing rushing over me, along with the fear of an army intent on destroying me.
Shaken, I peer back out at them.
They’re staring at each other, neither one relenting.
Lachlan finally lets out a heavy sigh. “Well, as much as your mother hates the girl, she does want grandchildren to carry on our line of power. And we’re certainly not going to get them from your pious brother.”
Lukas sips his drink, his green eyes glinting. “See, Father, there are some advantages to my lack of piety.”
A harder anger flashes across Lachlan’s face. “Well, then, seal the fasting and breed on the girl. And quickly.” Outrage bursts inside me as Lachlan shoots Lukas a look of derision. “From what we saw earlier, at least in that you won’t have much of a fight.”
Lukas smiles lazily at him as anger rises in me, swift and potent, wildfire racing through my lines.
Lachlan shakes his head, his expression of ire softening. “A grandchild will lessen the blow of this disastrous fasting and placate your mother. She despises the girl.”
“Her attempt to set the Banes on Elloren made that quite clear.” Lukas’s tone is meticulously pleasant, but I sense the sudden surge of his fire, as well.
Lachlan glowers at him. “Your mother senses defiance, and so do I. The girl needs a firm hand to bring her to heel.”
“Compared to Chi Nam, I don’t imagine she’ll pose much of a challenge.”
Lachlan shoots him a wry look. “No, I imagine not.”
Oh, Lachlan, you bastard. You have no idea.
The two men stare at each other for a protracted moment.
Lachlan narrows his eyes at Lukas. “Why did you let her run loose for more than a month? Be honest with me this time.” He says it calmly enough, but there�
��s steel underneath his tone, and I wait, my breath suspended.
Lukas meets Lachlan’s gaze squarely. “I was rather busy with the annexation of Keltania.” His expression darkens as he looks down at the glass in his hand. “And I was deciding whether or not to dispose of her.” He fixes his gaze once more on his father, who nods, seeming somewhat satisfied by this as my fury grows.
“She’s quite bruised,” Lachlan says. “Is that all from the Vu Trin?”
“Some,” Lukas acknowledges. His jaw tightens. “I took her in hand.”
Lachlan averts his eyes. “Ah. Unfortunate. But necessary.” He looks sidelong at his son. “There is potential for power there,” Lachlan considers. “Vogel’s right. Your children could claim quite the magical inheritance. As long as you control them.”
“We’ll raise them here,” Lukas says, seeming disinterested. “You and Mother can control them as you see fit.”
Loathing takes hold. What exactly are you plotting here, Lukas?
Lachlan nods, seeming satisfied. “That uncle of theirs let the Gardner girl and her brothers run loose and wild. You can see what came of that.”
And that’s when the rage unfurls.
I grasp quick hold of my wand hand, digging my nails into it as I battle back the urge to send fire straight through the door and Lachlan Grey, my fierce grief for Uncle Edwin fueling an urge to violence that’s almost impossible to suppress.
Lukas gives his father a chilly smile. “Are we quite done, Father? I’ve matters to attend to.”
Lachlan stiffens. “Where are you going?”
Lukas sets down his drink, shoots his father a knowing look, then gestures to my room with his chin. “To bring her further to heel.”
Power roars through my lines, and I dig my nails deeper into my wand hand.
“Keep her pure till tomorrow eve,” Lachlan insists. “Do you hear me? Take your sport with her how you like, but keep her fastinglines pure for the Sealing. You’ve bucked tradition enough.”
“I’ll keep her pure,” Lukas promises unconvincingly as he starts for my room.
The second his face is out of his father’s sight, Lukas drops his grin. It’s quickly replaced by an expression of intense urgency.
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