Need swept through the Maegen, a terrible, desperate need. A longing for something he could never have, something he had always been denied. Aurelie offered it to him now. Offered him everything.
Except what she offered was not real.
Grace couldn’t help him, not when she wasn’t there. She should never have left him alone. She should have known he’d end up in trouble. Marius had tried to warn her. He’d told her to keep him safe. She should never have left. But the palace, the place he lived, the place where he was guarded, his home should have been safe. She’d been so naïve.
‘Run,’ she told him. But where could he run to?
She wasn’t there, but his marshal, Simona Milne, was.
Simona… Simona would know what to do, how to get there.
It was his thought. She was sure of it. Bastien was still there, still able to think and reason. Even now. He had to be.
She plunged deeper, winding herself around him, her mouth to his ear and her lips brushing his skin. He had to hear her. He had to.
‘Bastien, find her. Find Simona and come here. Come to where it’s safe.’
The light of the Maegen dragged him from her. The light faded. The dream went with it and the magic flowing through her petered out. Exhaustion crashed over her and everything went dark.
A violent banging on the door to her room jolted her out of sleep in the small hours. It was darker than a winter’s night but she dragged herself up anyway, her strange dreams lingering.
‘Just a moment. Just…’
The candle flame jumped into life again. Grace hissed with frustration but the door was closed. No one else had seen it. She was safe.
This couldn’t be happening. She wasn’t mageborn, not really. Just an instinct, they said. Just a repressed power, something that gave her an edge and let her be the best at her job. It let her sense the other mageborn, but she couldn’t actually do anything.
Until now.
And when Helene had gone wild. And that one time, when Kai had helped her. And… But that had been all. And Kai said… he’d said it wouldn’t happen again.
But the dreams were magic. The Maegen was the source of magic and she had dreamed of it. And he was always there when she did. Bastien Larelwynn…
‘Boss, open up. It’s important.’ Ellyn’s voice. She sounded scared. ‘They just turned up asking for you.’
Grace wrenched the door open and sure enough there was Ellyn, pale as a ghost in the dim light outside. She was in a nightgown, her hair a silvery plait down her back. And she didn’t just sound scared. She looked it, too.
‘What is it?’
‘From the palace. From—’
Dark figures lurched into view at the end of the corridor. Grace’s hands went for weapons she wasn’t wearing. Her fingertips glowed with heat. She folded her hands behind her back, trying to hide them.
‘Down here,’ she heard Daniel say. ‘It’s just down here.’
A man was draped between Daniel and a woman Grace didn’t recognise. She was tall, her black hair scraped back from a strong face. Tiny silver studs glittered along the curve of her ears and there was a ring in the side of her nose. She was older than any of them, and looked hard as nails.
‘Is that her?’ she asked bluntly when she clapped eyes on Grace.
‘Yes, Lieutenant – I mean Captain Marchant.’
And suddenly Grace recognised the wilted mess of a human being slung between them. He was drenched in sweat and barely moving, his head lolling down and his long dark hair plastered like oil over his face. But that wasn’t the worst of it. His skin was pale and sickly, gleaming like mother-of-pearl instead of gold. And he didn’t appear to be conscious.
‘Bastien? What happened?’
‘We need… to put him down somewhere…’ Daniel grunted. ‘He’s bloody heavy.’
‘You should have tried getting him this far,’ the woman snapped. ‘Thank the goddess there was a carriage ready.’
‘In here,’ Grace said. ‘Put him on the bed.’
Her bed. The one she’d just vacated. Where she dreamed about making love to him, or someone like him, in the Maegen. But that didn’t matter now.
The two of them obeyed and the woman settled him, crossing his hands over his stomach. His head lolled to one side and the torc looked very bright in the candlelight.
‘What happened to him?’ Grace asked again. ‘And who are you?’
‘Simona Milne,’ the woman replied, still gazing at him. ‘He came to me about an hour ago, sick and delirious. There was some sort of party, though why he went, I don’t know. Something Lord Kane cooked up, no doubt to please the queen.’ She paused as if she had said too much. ‘The prince’s position is delicate. With the king ill, many people are jockeying for favour. And power.’
‘You think they gave him something.’
‘I think… I think they tried. There is a drink the Larelwynns use from time to time. A precious, dangerous drink. It steals memories. It makes people… malleable. I think this was why the king gave you the warrant, Captain. To protect him from situations like this.’
‘You haven’t told me what this is.’
‘I serve the king… and the prince… but mainly the king. It is my honour to serve.’
My honour to serve.
‘I’ve heard that before,’ Grace murmured as she stared at Bastien, at the sheen of sweat on his skin. Images from her dream resurfaced and she shuddered. What had happened to him? What had they done, or tried to do? ‘Simona, tell me what happened, in the king’s name. For his sake.’
Simona’s face crumpled and she sank down to sit on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. ‘Only a Larelwynn can sit on the throne. Only their blood is acceptable. The pact demands it. When Lucien Larelwynn defeated the Hollow King, that was the price. A Larelwynn on the throne, and a way to control the Maegen, to channel it, to protect the mageborn. But it has to be one of them. Marius calls it their curse as much as their blessing. What started off as protection soon became control. And now…’ She sighed. ‘The queen wants a child to maintain her power and Marius has not provided. Perhaps she can’t conceive. I don’t know. It’ll never happen if they don’t share a bed.’
And the realisation had already swept over Grace. ‘And Bastien is his cousin. So he has Larelwynn blood too.’
The images from her dream, the desire, the overwhelming need, the golden-haired woman… Grace’s stomach twisted. What had they done to him? How much of his mind was still intact?
‘He left before anything happened,’ Simona said. ‘Before she could—’
Grace fought the urge to snarl. ‘Rape him.’
Simona didn’t flinch. Perhaps she’d worked at the palace for too long, seen too much. ‘That’s a strong word, Captain.’
It left Grace disgusted. Why did she have the feeling that this wasn’t the first time Simona had dealt with something like this on behalf of her king? Hushed it up. Papered over the cracks. She knew all about this drink, after all. How many times had he been given it?
‘It’s a legal word too.’
The marshal didn’t flinch though. If anything her expression grew harder. ‘He’s your responsibility, not mine. The king has given you his warrant. It cannot be removed except by you or the king himself. He bid you protect him.’
Protect him. Not just his life. There was so much to protect. Bastien was far more vulnerable than he thought.
‘Doesn’t anyone test for poison in that palace of yours?’
Simona smiled briefly, her expression still bleak. ‘But it wasn’t a poison, was it? He’d know it of old if it didn’t work quite so well. Memories are malleable. Gaps can be explained. A childhood accident, something like that. That’s the easy part. He’s too trusting by far. Always was. And when it comes from a so-called friendly hand… He didn’t see it coming and neither did I. My mistake.’
One for which Bastien was paying. Grace narrowed her eyes but Simona ignored her. If she truly felt guilt, s
he had a funny way of showing it. What was she? Bastien’s keeper? Until now…
‘I should go back. There will be questions. I can take care of things until morning. Bring him back when it wears off. I’ll tell them he’s helping you with your enquiries. When he’s back to himself, he’ll find that hilarious.’
If he was ever himself again.
Grace couldn’t seem to make herself move. Bastien Larelwynn lay in her bed, unconscious, burning with fever, and the woman who had brought him was about to go.
‘Wait, what do I do?’
‘Look after him. I don’t need to do your job as well as my own.’ Simona swept out of the tiny room, past Daniel and Ellyn who stood back, as shocked as Grace was. ‘Someone show me the way out of this labyrinth,’ she yelled after a moment and Ellyn hurried after her.
Grace was left looking at Daniel in despair.
‘He’s sick.’ Daniel said it as if it was meant to be helpful. It really wasn’t. Hadn’t he been listening?
‘I’m aware of that. Get me some cold water and cloths and… Divinities, I don’t know. Go and wake the medic on duty.’
Chapter Ten
A cool cloth pressed to his forehead. His skin was on fire, and the magic inside him whirled out of control, tearing through him and devouring as it went. Punishing him. The Maegen was an inferno and he was lost.
Well, it was a curse, wasn’t it? That was what everyone said. The curse of the Larelwynns. And they deserved it.
He deserved it. Bastien Larelwynn, Lord of Thorns, bastard traitor to his own mageborn kind. Even though he couldn’t help that, couldn’t help the world or the family he’d been born into. Couldn’t help what he was.
A voice spoke, murmuring soft and gentle words which soothed his mind. The cloth went away and then came back, refreshed with iced water. That touch, that delicate touch, was the only anchor he had in the world. When he opened his eyes all he saw was fire.
Was he lost then? Lost to the tormentors and the accursed, to be burned away and left a charred corpse?
But her hands, her voice, her gentle care… no, that couldn’t have come from anywhere but the Maegen. It was part of his dreams, his only comfort. She sang. He knew the tune but couldn’t place it. A nursery rhyme or a fisherman’s song. Something he knew from so long ago it was buried in those vanished childhood memories. Memories he’d stopped searching for, put away and forgotten about. Memories he had lost.
‘It’s okay,’ she said to him and he wanted to believe her. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t believe anyone. He couldn’t trust anyone.
But when she tried to move away, he grabbed her wrist and held onto her. He couldn’t let her go. He knew he was gripping her too tightly, heard her gasp of discomfort, felt the jerk where she was about to fight back but restrained herself. Her bones bowed beneath his grip, grinding against each other.
He had to get away from her. Before she… before… he couldn’t recall. But she’d given him something. There had been a drink, sweet and strong, something he remembered tasting as if in a dream. Or a nightmare.
But he couldn’t let her go. Not this one. Not Grace.
It was Grace.
‘Shush, I won’t leave, I promise. I’m just getting more water.’ She forced the words out through clenched teeth.
Bastien had to make himself release her. He tried to sit up, tried to focus on her, but all he saw was the same fire, the candlelight behind her illuminating her red hair. She was beautiful, like one of the divinities incarnate. She was everything. She wasn’t from his nightmare any more. He wasn’t there. Not now.
He was here. With her.
‘Grace?’ he said. It was Grace. But it was also the Maegen. It flamed inside her. He could see it beneath her skin, leaping and dancing, calling to him. She had rescued him. In his nightmare, it was her voice guiding him, giving him the strength to… to… what? When he tried to remember there was just endless darkness. And the soft wicked laugh he ought to know.
‘I’m here,’ she assured him. ‘You’re safe, Bastien. I promise. Just… just rest.’
His body betrayed him and he slumped back down into the edge of his twisted nightmares.
She brought the cloth back, damp and cool once more, and laid it on his forehead. Then she slipped her hand under his head and lifted it up, so gently, so carefully. The cup touched his lips.
‘Drink it, just a little. It’ll help.’
He tried to do as she said. Whatever the drink was, it tasted sweet and he gagged without meaning to. A golden-haired woman laughed in the depths of his mind.
Aurelie… Aurelie laughed.
Drink it, Bastien. Drink it and forget. You know you want to. Just a little. It’ll help.
He choked, cool water splattering everywhere.
But Grace just cleaned his face and made calming sounds, her voice the balm he needed. She was the balm he needed.
It was Grace. He was safe with her. He was safe.
Without thinking he pushed himself up and caught her in his arms. His lips found hers. He didn’t mean to. Even as he did it he knew it was a stupid idea, a disaster, but he couldn’t seem to stop. She was cool against him, her lips so soft, her mouth so warm. She melted into his embrace and all he could think of was her touch, her kiss, her warmth.
‘Stop,’ she mumbled against his mouth. She pushed him back and he released her, because he had to. Not because he wanted to, but because he had already overstepped the mark. The wash of shame only served to steal what little strength he still had. He slumped back onto the pillow and gazed up at her.
‘I’m sorry,’ he tried to say. The words were no more than a breath. ‘I’m sorry for everything.’
His eyes closed before he knew it, and her hand brushed the side of his face in a gentle caress.
‘You have nothing to be sorry for,’ Grace told him. ‘It’s okay. You’re safe here. Go to sleep.’
Kindness undid him, just as it did with Marius. He couldn’t help but obey.
Thin sunlight woke him, stabbing into his eyes like knives. His head pounded and his stomach felt like it had been hollowed out with a dull blade. Bastien tried to move and every muscle protested but he forced himself onwards.
There was a puddle of bedlinen on the floor beside the bed and, in it, Grace slept fitfully, her red hair spilling across the borrowed pillow. He tried to get up without waking her, but the moment he shifted more than an inch towards the edge of the bed she moved, twisting around and coming up to face him, wide awake.
They stared at each other for a long moment. She had the eyes of a hunter. Quick, alert, dangerous. He could stare at them all day. Copper brown, almost golden, a hawk.
‘You’re awake,’ she said.
She got up and began folding the bedclothes, piling them neatly on the narrow desk, then placing the thin pillow on top. He watched her, even though he knew it was a terrible idea. The nightshirt she wore was a normal shirt, oversized, and old, threadbare in places, transparent.
Divinities, he shouldn’t be looking.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said again.
‘I know. You were ill. Can you explain what happened?’
What happened? Well, that was the question, wasn’t it? He’d kissed her. She’d responded. But… he’d been delirious and she had told him to stop. Before that… before that he couldn’t remember.
‘I…’ He raked his hand through his hair, trying to push its length back out of his eyes and formulate an answer. ‘I thought I’d be all right at the palace. When Marius gave you his warrant and… assigned me to you… I just went for a drink.’
She gave him a cool look. ‘Oh, a drink, how lovely.’
‘Asher just wanted to catch up,’ he said and then sighed, trying to pull his recollections back into order. They fragmented even as he reached for them. ‘There was wine and I… I couldn’t be rude. Asher – he’s general of the Royal Guard, I’ve known him all my life. And then Aurelie… the queen… They gave me something. Something else. I think.�
� It was blurry and confused, a maelstrom of laughter and misery. Bastien remembered someone kissing him, his clothes being too tight, his head pounding… Simona shouting…
‘Something else…’ The smile faded from her eyes. It wasn’t a story of him being stupid and over-privileged now.
‘Grace, it’s not the first time. It doesn’t matter. They think it’s funny. Because I’m…’
Her jaw firmed. ‘It doesn’t sound funny. You’re telling me they drugged you. As a joke. And it’s not the first time. I’m adjunct to the Royal Guard from now on. Your safety is my responsibility. And this Asher…?’
‘Lord Asher Kane, General of the Royal Guard. But really—’
Her look told him he was far too trusting. He sensed she was holding something back. Something he couldn’t remember, something she didn’t want to share. What else had he done or said? What else had happened? He ought to ask her. But somehow he knew he didn’t want to find out.
‘I think I may have met him,’ she murmured darkly. ‘I’ll move to the palace today. It won’t happen again.’
The relief almost made him collapse again, though he tried not to show it. He couldn’t. ‘I’ll arrange quarters for you.’
‘And for Daniel Parry and Ellyn de Bruyn. They’re coming with me.’
Ah. That made sense. She wanted her team with her. She wanted people she trusted close to her, to help her. ‘I’ll see to it.’
‘And Bastien, you have to promise to tell me, in future, anything that might harm you, endanger you, or threaten you. If anyone hands you drinks or invites you to parties, I need to know. I need to be there. Do you understand?’
He nodded, confused for a moment. It sounded more weighted than the words implied. ‘I understand,’ he said, even though he wasn’t sure he did.
She gave him that by now familiar hard stare.
‘That isn’t an “I will”, your highness.’
Damn it, she was good. Almost as good as Simona. Another scrap of memory raced across his mind. Simona. He’d collapsed in her office. He’d told her to bring him here. Because Grace had told him… that made no sense. He pushed it away.
Mageborn: An absolutely gripping fantasy novel (The Hollow King Book 1) Page 13