Bonds That Break (The Havoc Chronicles Book 3)

by Brant Williams

  As soon as the snare tendrils left my fingers, Rhys stopped running. He grabbed his head with his hands and howled as if in horrible pain. His eyes met mine and he glared at me before turning around and running the opposite way.

  That wasn't what I had expected. Feral Berserkers are supposed to just attack and kill. They don't run away.

  I hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. Should I chase him down and try to capture him? How much damage could he do if I left him here? Antarctica was about as remote a place as any on earth. But with his Berserker powers it wouldn't really matter. He could run across the continent in a matter of days, if not less. I couldn't leave him here to kill all the scientists and penguins.

  I had to either kill Rhys, or capture him.

  I already knew I wasn't going to kill him, so there was really only one choice. I left all our things and ran after Rhys, following the glow of his 'zerk in the dark Antarctic night.

  He must have sensed me behind him, because after a few minutes he started to run even faster. I turned up my speed, my feet flying over the frozen earth, slowly making up ground on him.

  Rhys veered toward the mountains and within minutes we were running at an elevation several thousand feet higher than before. Our speed slowed down significantly as we climbed rather than ran, but still our chase continued.

  It wasn't until we got onto open ground again that I was able to really start to close the gap. I had always been faster than the other Berserkers, and the adrenalin pumping into my blood from my desperation and fear gave me even more speed.

  Once I got within a half mile, Rhys stopped running and turned around to face me. I formed a snare and once again, Rhys dropped to the ground in obvious pain. Was there was something about my Binder powers that hurt him?

  I kept running toward him and Rhys attempted to stand up as I approached, but I reached him before he could run off again. I wrapped him up with the ten thickest snares I could create. He thrashed and fought against me, but I lifted him off the ground and squeezed him as tightly as I could, desperate not to let him escape again.

  His red eyes blazed with pure hatred. There was an anger there that I never thought I would see from Rhys, let alone directed at me.

  "Come back to me, Rhys," I pleaded with him. "I know you are still in there. I love you!"

  But it was like talking to a rabid animal. There was no understanding. No comprehension. Just hate and anger. He opened his mouth and literally growled at me.

  I held him tight with the snare, trying to think what to do. Would he snap out of this? Or was the Rhys I knew completely gone, leaving only a feral husk behind?

  The bottom line was that I just didn't know. As far as anyone knew, going feral was a permanent condition. But had they ever let any Berserker live long enough to see if they would get better?

  My guess was no. I don't think anyone had ever had the capability to hold a feral Berserker before like I could. The wispy threads of the other Binders' snares were not enough. It was either kill the Berserker, or they would kill others.

  But if I could hold him and control him, didn't I owe it to Rhys to at least try? I had to exhaust every possibility before I could give up on him. I knew he would do no less for me.

  So, I held Rhys in my snare and made my way back to where we had left our packs and supplies. Rhys struggled the entire way. The harder he fought, the tighter I had to make the snare. Eventually his eyes rolled up in his head and he stopped moving. I quickly checked for a pulse and breathing and was relieved to find that I hadn't somehow killed him. He just seemed to be unconscious.

  I gathered our things, taking care to protect the ice worm venom, and began the trek back to the ship. Rhys woke up two more times during the trip back. Each time he was unchanged. I held him with the snare and let him struggle until he exhausted himself and once again passed out.

  I hesitated when we got to our hidden landing boat. Did I dare bring him so close to people? Was that fair to the ship's captain and crew? What if he broke out and attacked them? What if I fell asleep and he got free? Was my love for Rhys worth the danger I would be putting others into?

  If this had been a logical decision, I probably would have done my duty and killed Rhys with my varé. That was what I had been taught, and the council would probably give me some kind of medal for bravery.

  But this wasn't a logical decision. The thought of living without Rhys was so distressing that I couldn't think objectively in the face of that kind of pain.

  I pulled the boat out of hiding, set Rhys in it, and took him back to the yacht. The captain greeted us with a mixture of surprise and relief. I didn't speak Spanish as well as Rhys did, but I managed to communicate that Rhys was sick and we needed to be taken back to Tierra Del Fuego as quickly as possible.

  The trip back seemed to take a dozen times longer than the trip down. After the initial energy of going feral, Rhys could no longer stay conscious for more than a few minutes. He would wake up, struggle against the snare and then pass out again. After doing this for two days straight, I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer and finally had to let go of the snare. While Rhys was unconscious, I wrapped my arms around him and slept. If he woke up, his movement would alert me, and I could use my Binder powers to subdue him until he went unconscious again.

  At least that's what I hoped would happen.

  "Madison."

  I heard Rhys' voice in my dream, and I smiled. It calmed me. Soothed me. There was something about it that made me feel warm inside.

  "Madison," said Rhys' voice again, this time more insistent. It pulled me out of my dream, and I began the slow ascent back to wakefulness. I opened my eyes and looked into Rhys' blue eyes.

  Blue. Not glowing red, but blue.

  "You're back!" I cried. We were in my sleeping quarters on the yacht. Rhys and I lay on the bed, face to face, his head propped up and looking slightly down at me.

  "What do you mean back?" he asked. "What happened?"

  "You don't remember?" I wished I could erase those memories, but there was very little chance I could ever forget.

  Rhys shook his head. "I remember fighting the ice worm, but after that I woke up next to you with the worst headache I’ve ever had."

  I reached over and gave Rhys the biggest non-zerking hug I could manage. "I'm just glad you're Ok," I said. "I didn't think I was ever going to see you again."

  Rhys pulled back from the hug. "Ok, now you've gone from mildly confusing to cryptically terrifying. What happened? Did I pass out again?"

  How did I tell him? Was I even right that he had really gone feral? After all, if he just snapped out of it, was that really considered going feral? Maybe something more like temporary insanity?

  "You did pass out," I said. "You asked me for the milking jar and by the time I used a snare to give it to you, you had passed out."

  "Ok," said Rhys. "I've done that before. It's not that big of a deal."

  "If all you had done was pass out, I might agree with you," I said. "But you woke up a few minutes later." I paused for a moment thinking of how to best explain. "And your eyes were glowing red."

  Rhys expression changed from that of mild concern, to dawning horror as the implications of what I told him sunk in.

  "My eyes glowed red?"

  I nodded.

  "So, I went... feral?" he asked.

  "Your eyes turned red, and I felt overwhelming emotions coming from you, like when Kara could feel what Eric was going through." I deliberately kept it vague. What he had done was completely outside of his control. If I told him the details of what he had tried to do to me, I didn't think he would ever forgive himself. I could see him doing something excessively gallant and stupid, like taking his own life rather than risk mine. I didn't want to give him any reason for testosterone-fueled noble gestures.

  Rhys ran his hands through his hair. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern.

  "No," I said. It wasn't technically a lie. There had been no
permanent damage from anything he did. Sure choking me was painful, but there was absolutely no reason to tell him about it. All it would do would be to make him hate himself. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "Look at me, I'm perfectly fine."

  "But how can I still be me?" he asked. "Once you go feral, you don't just stop. You've lost your humanity and succumbed to the anger of berserking."

  "I don't know," I said. "You didn't have any traumatic experience to make you go feral either. You were just holding the ice worm, and by the time I had grabbed the milking jar with a snare you had passed out."

  "What's happening to me?" Rhys asked. Outwardly, he looked calm, but I heard a quiver in his voice.

  I reached out a hand and stroked his face. It was rough with several days’ growth of beard. "I don't know," I said. "But whatever it is, we will get through it together. I promise."

  Rhys nodded and closed his eyes again. We both slept for a few more hours.

  I dreamed of the dragon again.

  Once again I stood before the massive tree looking up at the thousands of animals cavorting in its branches. This time I was drawn toward the large pool near the trunk of the tree. Massive white swans the size of elephants glided gracefully across its surface. Even with their swimming, the surface of the pool was completely still and reflected the sky, the tree, and me like a flawless mirror.

  I had the overwhelming urge to reach down and take a drink of the water. I had dropped to my knees when I heard a voice behind me.

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

  I spun around and saw the dragon from my last dream. I had no idea how I could have walked past it since it was bigger than a freight train. Its huge head lay on the ground, and even then its eyes still had to tilt down to look at me.

  The dragon's mouth split into a wide grin, showing rows of teeth taller than I was. A forked tongue flicked out momentarily and then disappeared back into its mouth.

  "Do what?" I asked. I tried not to let my uneasiness show.

  "Touch the water," he said, a hint of mocking in his voice. "Those swans tend to get grumpy when someone touches the sacred water."

  "Sacred water?" I asked. "Seriously?"

  The dragon let out a huff of breath that nearly knocked me off my feet. "Look, you can do what you want," he said. "This is just a dream after all. But I called you here to give you a warning, and I think you are going to want to hear it. So in the limited time before you wake up we can discuss the sacredness of the water, or I can give you your warning. You choose."

  "How do I know you're telling me the truth?" I remembered Rhys bringing up this point last time, and I still didn't have a good answer.

  The dragon rolled its massive eyes. "Oh, you're welcome to test anything I tell you," he said with a hint of exasperation in his voice. "You humans have grown so skeptical over the millennia. It used to be that a dream was enough to get you moving. Now I have to provide proof before you'll act on a warning? I'm trying to help you."

  When he put it that way I felt kind of bad about asking for proof. Now I just wanted to hear it. I could decide if I believed it or not later. "Ok," I said. "I'm sorry for doubting you. What's the warning?"

  "Well, you can take my warning and do with it as you will," said the dragon, clearly still miffed at my questioning him. "The truth will be apparent soon enough." He raised his head in the air and blew out a large plume of fire. Even though it was aimed well away from me, I felt the blistering heat of it on my skin.

  "Here is my warning," said the dragon. "You must stay away from Rhys."

  He might as well have punched me in the stomach. I felt my breath taken away, and I had the sudden urge to scream. Stay away from Rhys? That was the one thing I would never do.

  "But why?" I asked when I had recovered enough to speak again.

  "Because it is you that is causing him to go feral."

  Me? I was the cause of him going feral? That couldn't be true.

  "I... I don't believe you," I said.

  The dragon seemed unconcerned. "That's fine. I'll respect your skepticism and wait for my apology when next we meet." He started to turn away.

  "Wait!" I cried. "Can you at least tell me why this is happening?"

  The dragon paused and turned back to me. "For the same reason the bonds are starting to break – you. The magic is corrupted, Madison, and there are unforeseen consequences to that." He once again lowered his head to the ground and looked straight at me. "When Mallika killed herself, you took her powers. It tied you to Rhys, but you already had powers. The connection between you two is lumped into all the other sets of powers you have. They are all mixed together in ways that the old ones never intended. Right now, when you use your Binder powers, the corrupted connection between you two causes him to go feral."

  Each word hurt – a knife stabbed into my heart. I was the cause of Rhys going feral. I caused this.

  The dragon continued. "Soon even use of your Berserker powers will cause him to go feral. Not long after that, just your very presence will be enough to trigger it."

  Before I could say anything more, the dragon lifted itself once again, and climbed partially up the tree before leaning its massive head down to speak one last time.

  "But if you still need proof that I am telling you the truth, feel free to test it." He slithered around the tree and disappeared from view.

  The world around me fell apart.

  I woke up drenched in sweat, Rhys still asleep beside me. I closed my eyes again, wishing that this was the kind of dream where I could be relieved it was over when I woke up. But deep down, I knew it wasn't an ordinary dream.

  I was the cause of Rhys going feral.

  Me.

  And the only way to keep him sane was to leave him. Sure, I could stay with him for a while if I didn't use my powers, but it was only a matter of time until just my presence would cause him to go feral.

  How could I possibly live with that? I couldn't bear to have Rhys go feral, but I couldn't bear to be away from him either. It was a no-win situation. Either I left the man I loved, or he would go crazy if I stayed.

  Either way I lost.

  Hot tears poured out of me. I felt sick. Broken. My world had been pulled out from under me. All my plans, my dreams, my hopes, had in the course of one vision been destroyed.

  I lay next to Rhys, feeling his presence – his warmth and solidity. I could almost feel the moments we had together ticking away, slipping through my fingers. How could I go on like this?

  My sobs, or the very real possibility of drowning in my tears, must have disturbed Rhys because he began to stir. I waited, braced to take action if he woke up feral again.

  He opened his beautiful blue eyes and smiled up at me. It only lasted for a moment before my puffy red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks registered.

  Rhys sat up, immediately alert. "What's wrong?" he asked.

  "Everything," I said, my voice breaking and the flood of tears increasing. I grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug, unable to do anything but sob into his chest.

  He held me for what could have been a few minutes or possibly hours. I was so torn up and confused I couldn't even tell any more. When I had calmed down enough that I could once again speak, I told him about my dream.

  The look of despair on Rhys' face as I told him what I had learned was more than I could handle. I had to turn away as I spoke and avoid looking at him.

  When I finished, I continued staring at the wall. I couldn't bring myself to look at Rhys and risk seeing that expression of pain and suffering. It would be more than I could bear.

  I felt a light touch on my cheek as Rhys reached out and gently turned me so I could look at him. Instead of the despair and hopelessness I had expected to find, there was an expression of resolve and defiance.

  "I will not," he said, slowly and deliberately, enunciating every word, "let this tear us apart, Madison." His expression was both fierce and loving at the same time.

  He was my Rhys.

&
nbsp; "But how can we stop it?" I asked. "You can't control what my Binder powers do to you. It won't be long until just being around me will turn you feral. How can we stop that?"

  Rhys shook his head. "I don't know," he said. His voice was soft, but his expression still determined. "But I do know that I have not waited this long to find love only to give up on it now. I will not stop until I figure out a way to beat this. I will move mountains and drain oceans if I have to, but I will not give up. Do you hear me? I will not."

  Looking into his eyes I could almost believe that there was a way to make this work.

  Almost.

  "So what do we do?" I asked.

  "Let's start with a test to make sure that it really is your binder powers that make me feral."

  "What, here?"

  Rhys shrugged. "Why not?"

  "Because we're on a boat in the middle of the ocean." I said. "Because you might kill everyone on board. Because I’m scared to death that if it is my magic, and you do go feral, that you may never make it back. How about those reasons?"

  For a moment Rhys didn't say anything and scrunched his brow in concentration. If the situation were not quite so dire, I would have been completely distracted by how cute it made him look.

  "Let's try this," he said at last. "It's your Binder magic that’s supposed to make me feral, right? So, let's have you cast your strongest snare on me. If nothing happens, you can just let me go. But, if your magic does cause the problem, you said that your snare was strong enough to hold me immobile. You can hold me until I pass out like the time before."

  "But what if you get loose?" I asked.

  "Better on a ship in the middle of the ocean than in a crowded city. Wouldn't you agree?"

  "I guess," I said. His logic made a sort-of-twisted sense. If he did get loose here, there would be far fewer casualties than if we waited until we got back to the mainland. I was just so relieved to have him back from going feral that I was extremely nervous to attempt anything that might put him back into that state of rage.