by Megan Derr
Sule drained his wine. "Except for me. I haven't done anything remarkable with my magic. Though I'm not sure what would qualify as remarkable: fire is fire."
"Don't be too sure of that," Mahzan replied. "If anyone could produce dragon fire, it's you under Oath and in a bad mood."
"You deserve to be eaten by a dragon," Sule replied.
Cemal made the sign of warding. "I would not speak so cavalierly about dragon fire, even if it's myth."
Mahzan rolled his eyes, finished his wine, and went to refill it. "We're myth. I can read thoughts as clearly as though they were spoken, maintain the bond between the four of us, and Dragon alone knows what I'll be capable of should I try moving objects again. Even the Dragon would not be able to say what our dear shadow mage is capable of, though we've seen some of it. I do not think it's a stretch that Sule could produce fire hot enough to melt rock."
"Let us fervently hope that is not true," Sule replied. "Something so dangerous has no purpose, and only the Great Dragon should be capable of wielding it."
"Boring," Mahzan said.
Sule glared.
Cemal chuckled behind a glass of wine. "So that is the recounting of a man who knew someone Oathbound. Are there no other such accounts? What about direct personal accounts?"
"Some of the books refer to such, but many of them were in the Library of Rinno."
Sule and Cemal winced. The Library of Queen Rinno III had once been the jewel of the kingdom; no other library on the continent could compare. It had burned down one night for reasons no one had been able to determine. "The few remaining are written in Old Orhanish." He cast Cemal a look. "You would know better than me how much debate there is over translating that."
Cemal laughed so hard he shook with it.
Memories flickered through Sule's mind of men screaming, shoving, throwing food and dishes and whatever else came to hand. A few even threw fists. "What in the name of the Dragon…"
Laughter fading, Cemal replied, "Debate is too kind a word. I have seen grown men, respected pillars of the priesthood, get into tavern-style brawls over the exact wording and meaning of a single sentence."
"Incredible," Sule said.
Mahzan grinned. "I'm impressed. Didn't know those stodgy bastard had it in them. I thought our murderous priest was a unique specimen."
Cemal's smiled held, but turned sour and sad around the edges. "I am unique. They do it from passion and only in the moment. An hour after their fight they dine together like the old friends and brothers they truly are. I was quite cold and purposeful when I killed, and nobody ever misses me when I move on to a new temple."
Mahzan made a soft noise and abandoned his book and wine to cross the room. "Don't be so maudlin, priest. We all of us are killers these days. Some would say I'm the worst, to break a man's mind and leave him to suffer instead of killing him." He cupped Cemal's face and drew him down into a kiss.
Sule didn't even bother to try blocking the duel sensations of the kiss, simply sighed and settled back in his chair. This has the potential to be supremely awkward for more reasons that I can list. What if we part ways and take up other lovers?
Ha, Mahzan replied, and Sule got a hint of him arguing with someone, threads of hurt and betrayal. Nobody wants me once they learn I'm a mind mage, or sometimes that I'm a mind mage with no ambition to be anything but a jester. And I don't trust people I can't read.
Enough, Cemal cut in, and kissed Mahzan harder, wrapping his heavy, muscled arms around Mahzan's tiny waist. You're both being far too serious, given we are kissing and he is playing the voyeur.
Who is playing? Sule muttered. He'd paid to watch people fuck as often as he'd paid someone to fuck him. It offered all the pleasure and none of the peril.
So it's true what they say about you fire types being hot for—
And clearly it's true that mind mages are nosy, interfering, bossy little—
Dinner is ready, Binhadi cut in drolly. Try to behave for a couple of hours, please.
Mahzan kissed Cemal one last time and licked his lips as he stepped away. A couple of hours.
I blame you for creating this monster, Sule, Binhadi said.
Sule rolled his eyes but did not do more than grumble as Mahzan took his hand and pressed a fleeting kiss to his throat before they headed off with Cemal close behind. A footman met them in the hallway and led them through the manor to the dining room. It was even more austere than the rest of the house, all dark, heavy woods, the windows covered by maroon and gold drapes. Rather than the beautiful lamps that filled the rest of the house, the dining room was lit by several heavy brass candelabra, the flickering light lending a spooky atmosphere.
Eser sat at the head of the table, with Binhadi to her right, a carafe of the same black-red wine Mahzan had been drinking between them. Cemal went around the table to sit next to Binhadi. Sule took the seat directly across from him, leaving Mahzan to take the seat next to Eser and across from Binhadi.
Coward.
More like I'm not stupid and executed a sound strategy, Sule retorted.
Different words, same meaning.
Servants came through the door at the far end of the room then, bearing more wine and the first course: a spicy-smelling soup that made Sule's stomach rumble. After months of trail food and shitty taverns, real food was a Dragon-sent gift.
He bit back a moan at the first bite, but only because he didn't want Binhadi sniping at him for rudeness.
Rude would be drinking straight from the bowl or stealing ours, Binhadi replied with a silent laugh. Mahzan, I think he enjoys that soup more than your tongue.
Mahzan cast Binhadi a withering look. So you are saying you don't want a turn at my tongue later?
Binhadi started to reply, the lewdness of it filling the bond before the words formed, when all their thoughts were scattered by Eser's bright laughter. "I hope you four never have to hide your mental connection. You're not at all subtle. I'd be offended I'm being left out of the conversation, except it's fascinating to watch."
"You're not missing anything," Binhadi replied levelly, though if Sule wasn't mistaken, there was actual amusement lighting his eyes.
Eser smiled and looked at Mahzan. "So how are you finding the books?"
Mahzan finished his soup and pushed the bowl away. "They're marvelous. I saw the Red Sparrow mark. It must have cost dearly to have them make your copies."
"Yes, the contents of the library cost almost as much as the whole rest of the house. But knowledge is priceless, and I have the luxury of being able to afford it. I see you're reading the Diara accounting. Have you gotten to chapter seven yet? There's a rare recounting—"
"No!" Binhadi's voice cracked out like a snapped bone, startling Sule into dropping his spoon. Soup splashed over the rim and across the pristine white tablecloth. Binhadi stared at Eser hard, with the exact expression Sule had so often seen him use to send people of all stations skittering away as quickly as they could manage. In the past months, familiarity had made Binhadi a friend, softened his razor edges, banished the fear he inspired and made it easy to forget why shadow mages were more terrifying than even mind mages, especially when the shadow mage in question was Warlock Binhadi.
A man who controlled shadows controlled everything. History might be uncertain on the matter of Oaths, but it had plenty of truths regarding shadow mage. Shadows could bind, hide, kill, and control. Sule's mother had recounted seeing a shadow mage control a man like a marionette. Fire couldn't burn them away, but shadows could put fire out. Water could not scatter them, but shadows could hold water. Wind and earth were equally defenseless, and light just made shadows stronger. The only way to stop a shadow mage was to put him in a place that did not have shadows.
For a moment, Sule thought he felt hurt in the bond, but before he could be certain, his head filled with rage that was unmistakably Mahzan.
"Dragon magic," Mahzan said, his voice as cold and hard as stone.
Binhadi flinched visibly, which was the
most worrisome thing Sule had ever seen. He started to speak, but Cemal spoke first. "Dragon magic? You can't be serious."
"It's nonsense," Binhadi said flatly, but Sule caught hints of fear and shame before Binhadi's mind withdrew completely and shut them out.
"You don't think it is," Mahzan said, voice gone soft but no less angry. "You want it. Whatever dragon magic is, you've been hoping for it, but you didn't want us to know about it." He surged to his feet so quickly his chair toppled to the ground with an echoing bang. Kicking it aside, he strode for the door.
"Mahzan, wait—" Binhadi called out. Shadows moved across the room, some reaching for Mahzan and others sliding across the door to block the way out.
Snarling, his rage so white hot and huge it gave Sule a stabbing, vision-blacking headache, Mahzan whipped around. His eyes glowed like moonlight. "Don't you dare!" Binhadi went flying across the room to slam into the wall by the servant door, and the room filled with the sounds of breaking—the wall and bone.
Then Mahzan was gone. The only thing more ringing than the silence in the room was the silence in Sule's head. Mahzan had broken the bond. Easy to forget, until that moment, that the Oath wasn't responsible for their bond; it had merely provided Mahzan the power to forge it.
Sule shoved that matter aside for the moment to focus on helping Binhadi, who was struggling to sit up from where he'd fallen to the floor. "Hold still," Sule said as he knelt at Binhadi's side, Eser on the opposite. Together they carefully got Binhadi stretched out on the floor. Sule cut away the heavy robes then examined him head to foot.
His mouth was flat as he finished. "Broken wrist. Cracked ribs. Minor head wound. Broken ankle. I'm going to string Mahzan up by his balls."
"I'll send for a healer," Eser said as she climbed to his feet. "I wish we had a healing mage, but the nearest one is a temple several days travel from here."
Sule nodded. "I have adequate field training. I can tend him until the healer arrives. Cemal, help me get him upstairs to his room. Once he's taken care of, we'll deal with Mahzan."
It was a long, arduous journey all the way up to Binhadi's room. Throughout, Binhadi wavered in and out of consciousness, and Sule flinched every time he whimpered in pain. Binhadi was supposed to be the unbreakable one, yet twice now he'd nearly died.
Servants came right behind them with hot water, bandages, and a case full of tonics, creams, and elixirs. Sule stripped off his tunic and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Grabbing supplies, he set to work, starting with the broken bones.
An hour and a half later he was finally satisfied, and withdrew to wash off. When he returned from his room, holding a fresh shirt and tunic, it was to find Cemal sitting by the bed holding one of Binhadi's hands. Binhadi was oblivious, dead to the world after the medicine Sule had given him to help with the pain. Cemal looked up as Sule drew close. "Impressive work for someone who described his skills as 'adequate'. Why are we only now learning you have healer training?"
"I don't," Sule replied, setting his tunic on a chair as he pulled his shirt over his head and pulled the laces closed. "I used to live in the middle of nowhere, remember? They didn't waste healers, even non-magical ones, on villages so tiny they're barely worth putting on a map. So we learn to make do, even in in the garrison. We had this old healer who should have been allowed to retire long before I signed on. His mind was sharp, but his body was weak and his hands were always shaking. So I'd be his hands. Some of what I did has stuck, that's all."
"You undervalue yourself and your skills," Cemal said.
Sule gave short, sharp laugh. "Yes, well, you persist in claiming that being a priest means nothing to you, but carry your prayer beads as only a devout person would. Our fool claims to hate his powers but has not ceased using them since he started. We all seem to excel at everything but honesty." He yanked his tunic down and buckled his belt in place. "Speaking of fools, let us go see what provoked this madness. You may have to keep me from killing him."
"That's not a task usually trusted to a known murderer."
"Yes, well, we use the tools available."
Cemal smiled, but it was fleeting and strained around the edges. "I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt Binhadi. He doesn't use that particular power often. I've only seen it twice: when he brought the ceiling down on the fearmonger, and later when he pulled you of the well. Strictly speaking, I didn't see that last one, but the point remains."
"We'll see," Sule said as they left Binhadi's room and headed back downstairs.
The silence in his head was unnerving. It reminded him, vividly and painfully, of life after his family had discovered he'd joined the army as a man and most of the rest of the world had no idea his family considered him a woman. He'd explained so carefully, every word meticulously rehearsed over years of anxiously awaiting the day he'd hoped would never come. But even though his father and siblings had said 'all right,' an awkward silence fell whenever he walked into the room. They didn't laugh with him anymore. Didn't hug him. Wouldn't go into the village with him. Stopped pestering him to visit more.
When he'd gotten transferred to the Heart, they'd gone with him for the better opportunities…and disowned him two years later. They'd made the arduous journey back to their little village, and no replies to his letters ever came.
It was a silence he'd vowed never to endure again, even if it meant living with a different kind of silence.
His eyes stung, and the back of his throat burned. He'd broken his own vow in a moment of weakness, and hadn't even really tried to repair the damage, just thrown himself into the fire the moment Mahzan had kissed him. Now here he was only a few hours later and he was drowning in that dreaded silence.
It was probably for the best Mahzan had broken the connection. What good would come from keeping it? Eventually the Oath would break and they'd go back to their separate lives. Look at the harm it had already caused.
Downstairs, they found a servant to show them to the library. It was a beautiful room at a glance, but Sule scarcely noticed, his attention solely for the man standing at a table reading rapidly through a book, several others scattered carelessly across the table and floor.
"What is your problem?" Sule bellowed. "You nearly killed him!"
Mahzan stilled, and for a moment Sule almost thought he saw regret—but then Mahzan's face turned hard and cold, reminding him of the day they'd met, when everything Mahzan said seemed to be hostile, mocking, or derisive. Sule hadn't missed that man. "Serves him right, given that this whole fucking time he's been planning to kill us."
Sule inhaled sharply through his nose.
Cemal sputtered. "What in the Dragon's name are you talking about?"
"Dragon magic," Mahzan said, and slammed down the book he'd been holding.
Cemal frowned. "That's the term for magic abilities that have reached their peak, levels that people rarely achieve. Like you were saying earlier with Oathbound magic, those so-called peaks are much more mundane, if difficult to reach, abilities fallen prey to time and exaggeration."
Mahzan shook his head. "No, that's dragon powers, though I'm sure you priests could debate it all year. What I'm referring to is a literal ability to turn into a dragon."
"Sacrilege!" Cemal snapped. "No one can take on the image of Most Holy, and anyone who tries deserves the suffering they bring upon themselves."
Sule cast him a look that Cemal didn't see, but forbore commenting as he was relatively certain it would just get him punched, given the foul mood dominating the room.
Mahzan shrugged irritably. "Sacrilege or not, that's dragon magic. Do you know how to control a fearmonger?"
"With an Oath," Sule said. "Obviously."
"Obvious to us," Mahzan replied, "but what I mean is that it takes a specific combination under Oath. If we tried it, we'd fail. We don't have the right combination of magic. To control a fearmonger, you need a shadow mage, beast mage, mind mage, fire mage, and a healer. The shadow mage for strength, durability, and the skill to bind that which ca
n't be bound. The beast mage because they have the right magic to bond with beasts, the fire mage for the obvious connection to fire, since in a fearmonger connecting to fire is as important as connecting to the rest of the beast. Then the mind mage to connect them to supplement and strengthen their power so the fearmonger can be controlled over long distances, and the healer is needed to keep the others strong and healthy since controlling a fearmonger is constant and extremely taxing. Go ahead and guess what is required for dragon magic."
Cemal and Sule sighed in unison.
Mahzan's smile was full of violence. "Dragon magic is the most powerful Oathbound ability known, though of course that's not saying much, given what was lost. It requires a shadow mage, fire mage, mind mage, and shape mage."
"Dragon grant me mercy," Cemal said, his hands trembling. "It's not possible."
"Theoretically, yes it is." Mahzan laughed bitterly. "There are only two written accounts that I can find, but they seem to refer to the same event. Both are third-hand, but alike in an impressive number of details, and they don't appear to be copied from the same source. I think it's two separate sources, which means it's could very well be more than a theory. A shadow mage to bind the four together, a shaper to form the dragon from the bound, fire to grant power, and a mind mage to give the dragon mind and heart."
Sule sank to his knees, curled his shaking hands into fists. "Impossible."
"Blasphemy!" Cemal howled.
Mahzan's lips curled. "The problem is that there is no undoing it once it's done, and once the magic and strength run out, the dragon dies."
"Binhadi…" Sule shook his head. "I'll grant you he can be a cold, ruthless bastard, but he wouldn't go that far."
"Please." Mahzan gave him a pitying look. "This is precisely what he would do if he decided it was for the greater good. Dragon alone knows what he's already done in the name of the king. This is exactly the actions of a ruthless shadow mage determined to save his kingdom at any cost, and likely with a secondary goal of vengeance."