She reached forward and pried his left hand from his cheek. “Teleport me to Auberline. We need to get our daughter back.”
“I can't,” Radamar mumbled. He slowly lowered his right hand and glanced up at her. He looked older than his thirty-eight years, and dark circles ringed his umber eyes.
“You can. You're as proficient at teleportation as Ranalae was. Dad told me you left her with my mother in Auberline. Let's go to her. Please.”
“I can't,” Radamar repeated. He pushed back his sleeve from his right wrist. A wide, unadorned silver bracelet circled his arm. No, not a bracelet. A shackle. “I can't. It's a binding lock, a more complicated one than what they put on Claw Island prisoners. I can't do any magic at all with it on and it can only be removed by the person who put it on me.”
“Well, who put it on you?”
“Shannon Goldtree.”
Benny searched her memory and found no reference for that name. She knew of two Goldtrees, neither named Shannon. The only Shannon she knew was... “Sylleth? Shan Sylleth?”
Radamar tilted his head and squinted at a cluster of white yarrow. “Yes. Sorry. You weren't around for that change. His father legitimized him.”
“Daelis or Daelon? He looks like both of them. I know Shan, or knew him. I used to babysit him for Rin. He did what to you?”
Radamar looked up, meeting her eyes for the first time. His own eyes were teary and confused. “Daelis. He's married to Katrin Sylleth now. They had a daughter together just before his father was assassinated and Lindaer Starbright stole his duchy from under his feet. He's in exile now and no one knows where. You've missed a lot.”
“Of course I have. Your people saw to that,” Benny growled. She was already sick of him, of his false kindness. “Your cousin kidnapped me, tortured me, mutilated me, forced me to marry you and have a baby with you, then threw me away like a bag of rotten rubbish. My dear, you didn't do any of that to me yourself, but you're just as complicit as the rest of your family.”
Radamar's eyes darted away. Benny grabbed his chin and forced him to return his attention to her. He swallowed and said, “I'm sorry. It can't possibly mean much, but I am. I never wanted anyone to separate you and Radella, and I fought Ranalae's decision for long after you were gone. There were consequences to that defiance. I . . . I've missed you, and that doesn't matter in the slightest. We're going to get our daughter back, and if you want me to leave after that I will. It will destroy what's left of my heart, but I've caused you enough pain.”
“I don't want to steal her from you, either,” Benny whispered. She let go of his chin and allowed her hand drop onto his knee. She exhaled, then reached again to touch the binding lock. “These things are selective and personalized. The binder can take away one ability or many, and can even keep the wearer from leaving the prescribed location. The one I had on me in the prison was a generic anti-magic shackle and Dad had no problem removing it. This . . . this thing is lightbinder magic. Even death won't end this spell. If he dies before removing it from you, you're stuck with it for life. If you cut off your hand to remove it, it will reappear on another limb and then you'll be missing a hand as well as your magic. I don't understand this. All I feel here is lightbinder magic, and Shan isn't a lightbinder. Why . . . how did he do this?”
Radamar ran his forefinger along the back of Benny's glove. “The why I'll get to in a moment. The how makes more sense. He's a warlock, but he's more than that. He's a Spellkeeper. His abilities transcend the normal limit for warlocks. I can't even imagine being able to do half the things he can already do and he's still a teenager. I've seen him create corporeal shadows. Not summon or manipulate, but create in a similar way to how mages create light. He can also enchant objects, which is something I've never known a warlock to be capable of. Even for a Spellkeeper he's extraordinary, and I've heard rumors that he's now dragonbound and working for the High King in Anthora, which means he's either completed the Spellkeeper sequence or will soon.
“Now for the why. Ranalae tortured Shannon with a malice I've never seen before, even from her. She kidnapped his family and they somehow managed to survive and escape the underground. She carved the spells into him with such rapid intensity that she killed and brought him back to life twice, though I think he only remembers the first time. She hated him so much, her own grandson, and she did everything in her power to make sure he suffered through the first stage of the Spellkeeper transformation. Pain is part of the process, of course, but not like that. She wanted to break him, and instead she made him stronger.
“After Ranalae was dispatched in the dragon forge, Shannon came for the rest of the Jarrah. He is a masterful teleporter, and he hunted us. I don't know how he found us, but he did and did it easily. He took groups of seven—seven people, seven dragons or horses—and he worked a ritual on them that apparently killed them. He didn't say anything to confirm that, but it's what I suspect based on his frustration. He took at least eleven groups of seven before he found me with Radella. He said he recognized my voice and knew I was the one who caused the cave collapse that injured his father. He promised he wouldn't hurt Radella and asked if there was someone outside of the Nightshadow family I trusted to care for her. Your mother was the first person who came to mind because I knew the Jade Realm was heading into conflict so anyone who would understand her needs there wasn't going to work. He went with me to Auberline and waited while I left our screaming little girl with a stranger. Then he took me to a desert I didn't recognize, put the binding lock on me, and told me the only reason he was leaving me alive was because he only needed seventy-seven and I was number seventy-eight. He said I was free to live or die, but I would never be able to use my magic again. He left me in that desert with nothing but the clothing I wore, a pen knife, and a spell on my head that kept me walking in circles. I'm a desert elf and built for the dry climate, but the two months it took to find civilization nearly killed me. I ended up recovering in an infirmary in Aurandaria for several months, and then I came east to find you. I promised your mother I wouldn't come back for Radella unless you were with me.”
Benny raised an eyebrow. “Shan? Little Shannon Sylleth did that to you? The chirpy little sweetheart who skipped around giving everyone compliments and flowers? The kid who cried when anyone stepped on a snail? That kid wasn't a monster.”
“He still isn't.” Radamar scowled and shook his head. “He's vengeful, certainly, but he isn't a monster. He hunts monsters, uses them as target practice for incantations far above his maturity.”
“Monster, monster, you're the sarding monster,” Juna spat as he slipped behind Radamar. “I recognize your voice from the forge, Brother Despair. Now I see the ghoul behind the mask. No more masks for you, and no more magic. What do you have left? A sharp stick and a family that doesn't want you.”
Radamar's shoulders tensed. He clenched his eyelids shut and sniffed. “You're right, I am a monster. You sound as if you need closure. Kill me if you feel the need.”
“No,” Benny whispered. Her hand jumped to her lips and she gasped. “Juna...”
Behind Juna, Mordegan shrugged. “You told me what he did. I'm not stopping you, Juna.”
Juna drew his sword. He breathed heavily as he rested the flat side of the blade on Radamar's shoulder. Uncertainty flashed in his carnelian eyes. Radamar slowly exhaled and his posture relaxed. He looked up at Benny and a faint smile fell upon his lips. “You look horrified. It's okay. I found you so I could tell you where our daughter is. I didn't expect to live much longer past that. I love her, but she needs you more than she needs me. This Uldru wants to kill me to avenge his people, and I see no reason not to let him.”
Benny rocked onto her knees. She knocked Juna's blade away, then embraced Radamar and pulled him toward her. “No,” she whispered as his head came to rest on her collarbone. “No, Juna.”
“Why? Because he was your mate? Because you're still one of them?” Juna scowled as he paced a tight arc between Mordegan and Radamar. “Yo
u said yourself you saw what he did in the mask. Monster. Monster, monster . . . and monster must die with the rest of the monsters.”
“Death is too abrupt, too much of a relief. Life without magic is a more satisfying punishment.” Benny let her hand settle on the back of Radamar's neck.
Juna paused to stare at Benny. He growled and planted the tip of his gladius into the nearest grass clump. “My people were enslaved and tortured and eaten for uncountable generations because of his family. It continued because people like him were afraid to lose what comfort and status they had by speaking against the horrors that prospered beneath their feet. You were afraid, Jarrah, and now you've lost everything except your life and this woman who defends you even though she doesn't want you. Why, Benny? Be free of him. Let me free you from him.”
Benny shook her head. “No. We're leaving thirteen bodies on this cliff already. He's not who he was. Leave him alone for now, and if he threatens you I'll kill him myself. I like you far more than I like him anyway, but I can't let you kill him.”
“Why? I don't understand why you won't let me do this.”
“Because I think he deserves the same second chance I've been given. He was raised to be a Jarrah, but now he has a choice to become what he wants to be rather than what he was forced to be. I know him well enough to have seen the good in his soul. He's redeemable. I think he'll choose the better path if we let him.” Benny stroked Radamar's disheveled hair. He remained silent and still against her, but the frantic beat of his heart told her he was afraid. He deserved that fear, that threat of death. He didn't deserve to die.
Mordegan picked up Juna's sword and carefully passed it back to him. “Not tonight, friend. There's enough blood on this hill to keep the old gods satisfied for a couple days. Come over here with me and leave them alone. I found a jerkin that might fit you.”
Juna sheathed his sword and shook his head. “Shackle means you're the slave now, Jarrah. She might be able to ignore what you are, but I can't forget. Good or bad, you'll both get what you deserve in the end.” He turned away and followed Mordegan away from the cliff edge.
Radamar wept onto Benny's chest as she continued to stroke his hair. She didn't like him and wasn't sure if she ever would, but they were bound to each other. “He'll calm down, or he'll get frustrated and return to his people.” She rested her chin in Radamar's hair as his arms slowly embraced her. “Just . . . let's just get our girl back, okay? We can figure out the rest of our lives once we're part of hers again.”
“Do they know what you are yet?” Radamar whispered, his voice choked.
“No, and don't tell them.” She inhaled his dusty scent as the moon disappeared behind a storm cloud. He would need to bathe if he wanted to get anywhere near this close to her again.
“I won't.”
8
Tessen
S–
You're silent again. Are you okay?
–T
TESSEN,
I'm fine. I've been busy with something good. Remember that awful little suite we were living in? We got moved to a bigger one and it has both a greenhouse solarium and a garden balcony. We don't need the additional bedrooms, but the extra sunlight and fresh air are wonderful. And the view . . . amazing. I can see most of Anthora from the balcony and it's bigger than I imagined. Lumin is enjoying our new space, too, especially the birds that land on the balcony. Fresh snacks.
Shan
SHAN,
Your new suite sounds lovely. Do you h
Sorry. Zinnia grabbed the pen. Now I can't remember what I was going to write. I'm watching her and Yana while Mom and Daelis work on something with the Guardian. Ragan keeps walking in to hand me books to translate, then he walks right back out. He doesn't like being in Mom's house and I think Zinnia makes him uncomfortable. He wishes she was his.
Tessen
T–
Ragan needs a girlfriend. What does he want you to translate?
I wish you could draw people because I'm having trouble picturing what Zinnia looks like now. She was so little when I saw her last, only a couple days old. She's not going to know who I am.
–S
SHAN,
She'll know. We talk to her about you and she'll grow up knowing about her eldest brother. You'll meet her again eventually. She looks like Mom. K is quite a good artist. I'm sure she'll draw a portrait of Zinnia in here if you are willing to let her know about it.
Tessen
T–
No. I don't know your friend well enough to trust her. What is Ragan asking you to translate?
–S
S–
Random books he finds. Most of it ends up being fiction written in dead languages. He brought me a couple cookbooks last week so I've been playing with the recipes. Some are good, some are hideous. Even Daelis wouldn't touch the walleye and cherry loaf with mint-garlic relish I made from an old Pysakee tome. Disgusting, I know, but I was curious. I need to stop writing now. I hear Daelis and Iefyr talking outside and I'm supposed to go work with the Guardian. Full moon tonight, can't miss it.
Love you. Write back soon.
Tessen
TESSEN CLOSED THE JOURNAL and slipped it into his satchel between a volume on early Bacran sorcery and a thin book of Pysakee warlock incantations. Ragan and Kemi's increasingly successful search of the library had necessitated Tessen being allowed to know the subject of their interest. Spellkeepers. References to them were hidden throughout the Nightshadow library, and an entire block of shelves was now dedicated to bookmarked tomes containing even a single possible reference. Ragan had begun his research with the intent of figuring out what the High King wanted with Shan, but once Kemi informed him that there was likely more than one living Spellkeeper, and that her father wanted to collect them because they were unfinished, his focus broadened to include all mentions of Spellkeepers, power triads, sevens, and lightbinder magic. The latter proved to be even more difficult than finding Spellkeeper references: lightbinder witches were notoriously eccentric and secretive, and the few who had allowed anything to be written about their skills were apt toward blatant deception.
They were right to keep Tessen uninformed until he figured it out himself. Now every book and every meeting in the library filled him with dread. What was Shan really doing in Anthora? What was being done to him? Tessen felt his brother's lies rise from the journal pages with every note. They had to lie, both of them. The High King created the journals and both brothers suspected he was monitoring what they wrote to each other within the pages. Tessen hoped he'd one day be able to fully decipher the invisible truth between the written lies, but for now all he could do was concoct his own lies and let them slowly burn away his integrity.
“Essy? Dragon?” Zinnia tugged at his sleeve.
Without looking, he reached across his lap and scooped her up. A broken fountain pen dropped to the floor, splattering ink upon the woven rug. Her turquoise eyes alight, Zinnia smiled at him. Her teeth and mouth were stained with ink as black as her hair.
“You ate my pen. Great. That one was a birthday present from Kemi. Well, at least that ink isn't toxic. Come on, let's see if we can get you cleaned up before your dad sees you.” Tessen carried Zinnia to the wash basin. He balanced her on his hip as he poured water from an ewer into a bowl set in the basin.
“Essy? Yucky?” Zinnia chirped. She tried to grab the wet washcloth from Tessen's hand.
“Here. Play with this, but don't pull.” He set the washcloth down and instead handed her the pendant he wore around his neck, a silver arch embossed with a star-crowned mountain in front of a full moon. It was a family symbol he had created for himself. He was the only living member of his father's line, which was so lowborn it previously had no crest. The information inscribed on the back would allow for its return to his mother or brother if he died away from Mountain Home. “And yes, yucky. Don't eat things you find. Some things will make you sick if you eat them.”
“Eat? Zin eat? Hungy.” The toddler's e
yes narrowed as Tessen gently scrubbed her lips. The washcloth turned black, but Zinnia's lips remained dark. “Essy. Essy, hungy. Mommy.”
“Mommy will be here in a minute to feed you, and she'll kill me if I don't get this ink off.” Tessen sighed and reached for the soap. “Sorry, Zinnia. You're not going to like this.”
Zinnia fussed and squirmed as the washcloth returned to her mouth. The ink on her lips slowly faded to dark purple, but her teeth and tongue remained black. She peered over Tessen's shoulder and squealed, “Mommy!”
“Shit,” Tessen muttered, dropping the washcloth into the basin.
“Shit!” Zinnia chirped.
Rin's hand touched Tessen's back, then lifted as she eased Zinnia out of his arms. She chewed her lower lip as she swallowed a laugh.
“Sorry, Mom. Sorry. She must have grabbed it out of my satchel. I can't get it off.” Tessen rubbed the back of his neck and slowly backed away from her.
Zinnia twirled the chubby fingers of her right hand through Rin's black curls while using her left to peek down her mother's shirt. “Milk?”
Rin kissed her daughter's cheek. “Don't worry about it. She's not my first child to drink an inkwell. You were. More than once.”
“I . . . uh...” Tessen dropped his hands to his sides. Heat rose in his cheeks.
Spellkeeper Page 10