“Begin the withdrawal, Colonel Roulier,” du Serres said steadily.
Lips twisting in anger, Roulier left.
As if nothing had happened, du Serres quickly issued more orders, including gathering Rafe and Gabe into the corner with Pio and Dem and increasing their guard. Cautious of appearances, Rafe greeted Dem with a chaste, brotherly hug before pushing him away, raging emotions barely contained.
While the tent seethed with a new vigour as the Alarians prepared to pull up stakes and leave, Rafe sat and listened to Gabe, Pio and Dem as they recounted the events bringing them all to this point. Pio and Dem boggled at the revelation of the Immortal Soldier’s involvement but the prince absorbed it all with quiet acceptance.
“It’s all my fault,” he said at last. “If I hadn’t come here, Dem and I wouldn’t have ended up in the tunnels. He wouldn’t have been captured and the battalion would still be alive.” He shivered. “All those people.”
No one else seemed willing to ask, so Gabe did.
“Why did you come here? It wasn’t just about Dem, was it. There’s something else.”
Rafe nodded. Checking over his shoulder, he made sure their guards weren’t too close. Leaning in, he murmured, “It’s my father. I started growing suspicious of him when he ordered you sent here, Mage Castillo, instead of letting Abbess Morales have you for her inquisition. Don’t you wonder why he did that when he hates you?”
Gabe snorted. “Why just punish me when he could punish me and save himself the chore of sending a de Ibarra Bone Mage here?”
“My father’s not petty. You’re here and not in a cell under Saint Ciro’s cathedral because he couldn’t risk offending Duke Sol de Roque. De Roque is integral to his plan.”
“Plan?” Gabe’s stomach sank. It was one thing for Ibarra to send him here, but to threaten his friend? His hands curled into fists.
“Yes. His plan to become king of Delaluz.”
The three of them stared at the prince as if he’d just declared Luz had finally returned from his wanderings to awaken the saints. Gabe’s mind stumbled in confused circles, going from ‘it makes sense, considering Ibarra’s superiority complex’ to ‘but Delaluz isn’t, never was, and never should be, a kingdom’ and back again. He couldn’t imagine one ruler in Delaluz. The churches simply wouldn’t allow it. It would reduce their influence dramatically, for one, and further... No, there didn’t need to be a further. Power was all the churches seemed to consume themselves with—power within their duchy, power over the other duchies. Take away the borders and you took away their main reason for getting up in the morning.
“You got that from Duke Ibarra sending Gabriel here?” Pio asked, frowning.
“Not just that.” Rafe sighed. “Once I started digging, though, I found more and more evidence. He’s working to gain control of all the duchies. Duchess Isabel de Herrera is already secured. She loves him and will do anything he asks of her. She in turn can make Duke Bolivar de Leon do anything she wants. I don’t know what she holds over him, but he’s dancing to her tune. Same with Duke Galo de Giron, only he’s my father’s puppet. I know his secret.” Holding up a hand, he added, “I won’t tell you what it is. It’s... incredibly personal.”
The last was said with a tremor that made Gabe wonder for whom it was incredibly personal.
Rafe continued. “Just before I left Ibarra, the Council of the First Estate passed judgement on a petition brought to them by Princess Alegria de Valdes y Sarabia. Abbot Guillermo had taken her daughters away from her, claiming the church was the only suitable place for them to be raised.”
Gabe shook his head. “What possessed him to do that?”
“It’s a long story,” Rafe said wearily. “Suffice to say the churches voted to uphold Guillermo’s decision. Princess Alegria was going to take her case to the Council of the Second Estate, but I wasn’t going to wait to see the outcome of that. I know, without being told, she’s lost her children to the church. It’s just another manipulation of my father’s. My mother was de Valdes. I and my siblings are heirs to Valdes. How hard do you think it would be for my father to get one of us on that throne? Duchess Feliciana is going to die very soon, if she hasn’t already, and Prince Eduardo can’t inherit and few would have confidence in Princess Alegria’s right to be regent.”
“That’s all very interesting,” Gabe muttered. “But Sol won’t bow to Ibarra. He’s my friend, I know he wouldn’t give in.”
“No. And Father knows that as well. But don’t forget who your friend married.”
It was like Dina sliding her knife into him all over again. It went in painlessly, but the damage caused was potentially fatal.
“Aracelle loves Sol. She wouldn’t betray him. I would have known if she ever lied to me.”
“I believe you. I know my aunt. She couldn’t hurt Sol, but what would she do if he wasn’t there anymore?”
Gabe’s throat closed up. “You can’t tell me Ibarra would try to kill Sol.”
“I don’t know. All I know is every duchy is in danger. Taking Sol out of Roque is the cleanest, fastest way for Father to get control through Aunt Aracelle.”
“What about Navarro?” Pio asked.
With a guilty glance at Dem, Rafe answered. “My father arranged for me to marry Princess Aislara de Navarro.”
Gabe nodded. “Nice to know you didn’t lie about everything. You were running away from an arranged marriage.” Before Rafe could become indignant, Gabe said, “So Ibarra’s trying to force Delaluz under one rule. I understand that, but where does this war fit in?”
Even as he asked, though, Gabe realised the answer. It was a distraction, for Irania, for the dukes and duchesses of Delaluz, for the churches. Something to make them look over there while Ibarra worked unnoticed in the background. But even that wasn’t the only reason. Ibarra was singlehandedly holding their ancestral enemy back, proving his might and superiority at the same time.
As Rafe opened his mouth to respond, Gabe glared at him. “It’s all right, I figured it out myself. Forgive me. My world is tipping arse over tit. That tends to make it a bit hard to think straight.”
“Hear, hear,” Pio muttered.
“But none of that answers the question why we’re here,” Dem reminded Rafe.
The prince grimaced. “When I worked out what Father was planning, I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know who I could trust within the court. If I’m completely honest, I didn’t want to be the one to know all this. I didn’t want to be the person who did something about it. So I came here to find Colonel Cabrera. He was my military instructor when I was growing up and he always had a… somewhat doubtful opinion about Father. I thought if anyone would know what to do, it would be him. But I never got to see him before it all went wrong. I just wanted him to fix everything for me.”
With a sinking sensation, Gabe whispered, “A good man once told me it’s not about what we want. It’s about what’s right.”
Rafe met his gaze, all the doubt and confusion he’d felt upon learning his father’s perfidy on display, along with all the self-doubt and the realisation of what that self-doubt had cost the people of Negron Battalion.
“I spent time with your sister and brother in Ibarra City,” Gabe continued, not sure why he was doing this, but doing it regardless. “Both of them look up to you. They couldn’t tell me enough about how smart you are, how brave and honest you are. How they admire you for being able to stand up to your dominating father.”
With each word, Rafe deflated, sinking in on himself.
“A boy who runs away at the first sign of difficulty isn’t the prince they described.”
And suddenly Gabe knew why he was saying this. He might be speaking to Prince Ramiero, but he was talking about himself. Hadn’t he done exactly the same thing? A bit of resistance to his goals in Roque and he’d packed up, left his critics behind, ignored his friends when they tried to reason with him and fled to Ibarra where he could be a magnificent Bone Mage without anyone telling h
im otherwise. In his own way, he’d betrayed Sol and Aracelle, let Sergio think his opinion meant nothing, abandoned his mother to his unforgiving, cold father. And look how that had turned out.
Neither he nor Rafe had done what was right. They’d both just done what they wanted and damn everyone else.
Chapter 32
“Gabe,” Pio hissed. “That’s Prince Ramiero you’re talking to like that.”
“It’s all right, Engineer,” Rafe murmured. “He’s right.
Dem frowned at his lover. “What do you mean?”
“I had a lot of time to think,” he said softly, “between what happened in the tunnels and the Alarian attack on this camp. I didn’t know where you were, Dem, or if you were even alive. I didn’t know how I would be able to go forward without your support, without...” He hesitated, then sighed and continued. “I didn’t know how I would survive if you weren’t with me. I was in a cell in the main encampment. No one would tell me what had happened in the tunnels, they wouldn’t let me speak to Colonel Cabrera. I was injured, in pain. And now I’m grateful for it. It hurt. All my life, I don’t think I’ve suffered more than a moment’s discomfort. There’s always been someone there to make my life easy. Rarely did I have to ask for something, it was always just there. If I hurt myself, there was one or two Bone Mages instantly at my side to take away the pain, to heal it so it looked as if nothing had happened. But now I think I understand.” Rafe took a fortifying breath and said, “I am a coward.”
“You’re not,” Dem said firmly.
“I am,” the prince said. “Mage Castillo is right. I wanted someone else to deal with Father because I was too scared to do it myself. Too scared of him, of what he would do if he found out I knew what he was planning. Too scared of what he might do to you. I wanted to hide behind Cabrera, but I know now it wasn’t the right thing to do.” He glanced at Gabe, a flush on his cheeks. “I have to take responsibility for what I’ve done. I think I always knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t think what else to do. I don’t know how far through the court this goes. I don’t know if Abbess Morales is in on it and that’s why Father convinced her to send you here. I didn’t know who I could trust.”
Expression softening, Dem said, “You can trust me.”
“And me,” Pio said enthusiastically. When Rafe raised an eyebrow at him, the Engineer added, “I always thought you were nicer than your father.”
“Thank you.” Rafe turned to Gabe. “I know I have no right, but...”
Gabe pondered it for a moment, making the prince sweat. When Rafe really began to worry, Gabe relented. “You can trust me, too. I am, for all intents and purposes, your Bone Mage. So, what—”
A gunshot rang out somewhere close by.
Gabe jerked in fright, having almost forgotten the world around their little conclave of honesty. Jumping up, he took in the tent. It was almost empty, all of the officers and clerks gone, leaving only the guards around the Delaluzians. Still bound to her chair, Ofelia was struggling against her gag and blindfold, twisting in an effort to get free. The Alarian soldiers were on guard, staring at the doorway, clearly wanting to go find out what was happening but duty bound to keep the prisoners safe.
Another gunshot, quickly followed by another.
A body flew through the tent flaps. Lieutenant Carufel hit the ground in a roll and came to his feet smoothly. There was blood on his arm and dirt across his usually pristine uniform.
“Mage Castillo,” he shouted. “I need you. The general’s been shot.”
Gabe didn’t think twice. He pushed out between two of the soldiers, who only made half-hearted grabs for him. Carufel waved him toward the flaps. Meeting him there, the lieutenant pulled him down into a crouch and carefully held back one side of the opening so they could peer out.
Du Serres lay in the middle of the yard, two soldiers crouching over him, rifles raised and searching. More fire came from somewhere on the wall, kicking up bursts of dust close by the trio, keeping more soldiers from rushing to their general’s aid.
“I’ll cover you,” Carufel said grimly, setting the stock of his rifle to his shoulder.
“Don’t go, Gabe,” Pio shouted. “He’s the enemy. Don’t risk yourself for him.”
Gabe swallowed hard. Pio was right. Why should he make a mad dash through enemy gunfire just for du Serres?
Carufel glanced at Gabe. “If he dies, Roulier’s in charge.”
Reason enough.
“Not on my watch,” Gabe muttered. Surging to his feet, he burst into the open.
Leaving Rafe and Dem shouting something incoherent behind him, Gabe ran for the general. Another shot and the dirt kicked up next to Gabe’s foot. He threw his arms over his head, as if that would stop a bullet, but he was committed now and kept running. Carufel answered with his own weapon, as did the soldiers by du Serres.
More shots. None hit Gabe but one of the soldiers flew backward, blood spraying from a hole in his forehead. Cursing, Gabe dropped into to a skid on the still muddy ground when he reached the general. Almost instantly the wet earth rose up around him and arched over, enclosing him, the general and the two soldiers in a dome that instantly hardened.
Darkness enfolded them, but the bullets thunked harmlessly into the shield Ofelia had raised. Gabe laughed, realising what the prince and Dem had been calling out as he ran into the fray.
“A window would have been nice,” he muttered and as if Ofelia heard him, a couple of small slits opened up, letting in just enough light to see by.
“By the One God,” the remaining soldier breathed, staring at the rock-hard shell.
“No, by Ofelia.” Gabe rolled the general over.
The damage was extensive. A single bullet could cause a lot more damage than a sword. Entry wounds were generally very neat. Exit wounds however. The bullet had hit du Serres from behind and blew out his sternum on its way out. The man’s chest was ruined. He was dead.
They were in trouble. With du Serres gone and Roulier in charge Gabe and the other mages were as good as dead. Who knew how Rafe would fare?
“We don’t have much time,” he said to the soldier. “I need you to open up your dead friend there.”
“What?” The man backed away from Gabe.
Gabe tore off his glove. “Just do it.” He pried the pewter cap off his little finger and dipped the raw opening into du Serres’s blood.
The soldier gagged. “What are you doing?”
“Hopefully saving your general. And me.” He set du Serres down and crawled to the dead soldier. He smeared that man’s blood on his finger as well.
“You’re going to use magic on the general?”
“If his body is compatible with this soldier’s, I just might.”
A rifle barrel was pressed to his head in an instant. “The One God forbids magic.”
Heart stuttering, Gabe said, “I’m pretty sure the One God’s not too keen on murder, either.”
“It’s not murder when I’m killing a demon.”
“Look, if you don’t let me do this very soon, your general will die.”
“He’s already dead.”
“To all appearances, sure. But I can change that. He’s compatible with this man here. Now, I can’t save the soldier, but I can save du Serres. Only if you put the rifle down, though.”
The soldier’s finger caressed the trigger guard. “I can’t let you use magic on the general.”
“All right then. How about on you?”
Fear let Gabe move faster than he thought he ever could. He pushed aside the rifle barrel and slapped his left hand on the soldier’s cheek. Flesh to flesh, he forced a surge of magic into the man. The soldier jerked back, nerveless fingers dropping the rifle. Slumping to the ground, he twitched uncontrollably, a trickle of drool on his chin.
“Sorry,” Gabe muttered, shoving him to the side. “You’ll recover shortly. Hopefully not before I’m done being slightly demonic.”
He had to work fast, using the dead soldier’s dagger to
open the body’s chest and cracking ribs with brute force. With dead bodies, his magic was useless. The black hollowness of death would steal as much power as he had and wouldn’t stop when it ran out, taking his life with his magic. What he was about to do was a theory he and Carrasco had discussed once. Except it wasn’t a theory anymore. He’d done it before. As he worked, feverishly fast and determined, all he could think about was Evellia. She lived. Du Serres would as well.
Once the soldier’s chest cavity was exposed, Gabe turned to the general. He did the same to him, revealing the shattered sternum, the frayed lungs and the punctured heart. The last he cut free with several quick, precise moves.
The dazed soldier whimpered in futile protest.
Gabe tossed aside the ruined heart and cut free the whole one from the dead soldier. He set it into du Serres’s empty chest and lined up the thick blood vessels.
“Excuse me,” he said to the dead general and pulled free the ornate clasp holding his cloak on. Working the pin back and forth, he broke it off and then scavenged thread from the hem of the garment.
It was ugly but he managed to sew the blood vessels together.
“If this works, general, I promise I’ll make it all pretty afterwards. For now, it’ll have to do.”
The soldier moaned and wriggled, fingers inching toward his weapon. Gabe moved it further out of his reach.
“Please, I need to concentrate now. No murdering just yet.”
Gabe called to all of his magic. It came in an eager flood, spilling through him in a warm, silver glow. He opened his eyes and ignored the panicked look on his companion’s face. The light of his magic lit up the confined space.
“We only get one chance at this,” he said. “Pray to your One God.”
Gabe put his right hand over his left and hovered them over the inert heart. Sucking in a deep breath, he released his magic in a single, violent pulse. It left him with all the speed and power of a bullet leaving the barrel of a gun. The silver bolt slammed into du Serres and vanished.
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