Spellbound

by Kodilynn Calhoun

  “Protecting her from the likes of you. Did you ever think to treat her humanely and maybe she might speak actual words?” He squeezed Wylde ever so slightly. “Did you ever think that she’s just as much of a person as we are, and has a name, just like we do? You call her a beast because she’s terrified of you. That Mage, Illumari? He goaded her. She was reacting out of fear. That’s hardly a fair fight.”

  The man’s lip rose. Kascien felt Wylde stiffen, felt the rumble of her growl before she ever uttered it. The man paused to blink. “And now the creature’s protecting you.” He snorted. “Wait until your master hears about this.”

  Kascien’s heart skidded. “He already knows I’m helping with her,” he said. “He gave me permission.”

  “Surely not permission to back-sass your superior, boy? I wouldn’t think he’d allow that.”

  It was Kascien’s turn to growl, though he bit it off before it had a change to bubble up. “No. Sir.” Looking away, pointedly, he sighed. “Sorry. I just hate to see you ruin a being such as this. She’s no different than the drakehounds; they have intelligence too. Just, instead of hound, she’s part human.”

  The man shook his head, then bent down. He looked at Kascien, then at Wylde, but his lips twitched as if he couldn’t stand to look at her. As if she disgusted him by merely existing. The hatred radiating off of Wylde said the feeling was mutual.

  “You have a name then, Wyvern?”

  Wylde sneered at him, struggling to move, but Kascien held her tight. He was bigger than her and she was still trembling from the after effects of the fight, but he knew better than to think he was stronger. He squeezed her again and she hissed air between her teeth.

  “Wylde. Wylde Debraux,” she said, her voice accented by desert tongue. “And once my father hears word of this kidnapping, I can promise you that—”

  Kascien hauled her to her feet before she could finish. She glowered, but shut her mouth. Then he shot the man a ‘told you so’ look.

  “She can talk just fine. Not so animal now, is she?” He released her and she wavered where she stood, but straightened to stand tall with her head held high. Proud.

  “See that she’s treated as one of us might be,” he said to the man. His heart twisting, he patted Wylde’s shoulder and then Portaled out, leaving the man alone with the Wyvern and praying Wylde would have the common sense to behave. He watched through the glass as the man bound her wrists and led her down the hall.

  He felt a tap on his shoulder and glanced up into Vik’s face. Damnit, just his luck. Vik had to’ve seen the entire thing. He had to know something was up, or at least suspect it.

  “Hey.” He tried for nonchalant.

  Vik grinned. “So the slave boy has a talent after all. Calming wild creatures…and diving headlong into dangerous situations.” But he didn’t seem angered by this. Instead…was that pride in his voice? Kascien found himself smirking back. “You could’ve been killed. But you knew you were safe all along, didn’t you?” His dark eyes twinkled. “You knew the girl wouldn’t harm you.”

  “I told you, we spoke in the alley before I brought her here.”

  “She doesn’t seem to begrudge you for that.”

  “Did you see the look on her face?” Kascien snorted. “Yeah. She does. She just knows I’m the only one who won’t treat her like some sort of…” Slave. He bit off the word.

  Vik opened his mouth to say something further when a young woman with pink hair peered around the corner at them, staring at Kascien in an almost awestruck manner. “Sir,” she began, but when Vik looked at her she shook her head and pointed to Kascien. “Doctor Gabriel would like to see you in the other room.” She turned and walked off and Kascien looked back to Vik. The Mage nodded and waved him off.

  Kascien found the woman talking in dulcet tones with the doctor and one of the guards. They all turned to him when he approached and Kascien gave a small bow. He could play nice.

  “You seem to have a touch with the beast,” the doctor commented.

  Kascien glared at him. “Didn’t you hear me before? She can talk and she can think. She’s not a freaking beast.”

  “Cool it, slave boy.” Kascien clenched his fists at his sides, but said nothing else. “We’ve talked and we think it would be best if you stayed with the…girl between tests. To calm her. And to gather information about her clan.”

  “So you want me to be a spy?”

  “In a way, perhaps. The more we know about her, the better off she’ll be. Surely you understand that. You’re just going to make everyone’s lives easier. I have the feeling we’ll have less casualties as well.”

  Kascien rolled it over in his head. This was it. His chance to get Wylde to trust him, so that when the time came to break out of here, she would listen to whatever orders he gave her. Yet… How much trust could he gain if he was their spy?

  “Fine.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “But I have a Kennel to attend to, and—”

  “We will arrange to have someone take care and fight the hounds.”

  “No one else has the training.”

  “We need you here. Perhaps if we allowed for someone to feed and clean the Kennel, you could still do the fighting? You could leave Esperidion at night, of course, but remain her during the day. With the Wyvern.”

  “Her name is Wylde,” he said stiffly. The men exchanged a glance and Kascien sighed. “Fine. Whatever. That works. There’s a guy called Ares; get him to do the hounds during the day.” Ares had been a friend of his mother’s and had been semi-friendly to Kascien all his life. He would do it, but they’d probably have to pay him. Great. Just another debt he would owe the Sovereign.

  Gabriel nodded and waved the other two off, leading Kascien to the room where they were keeping Wylde. The door was barred and he could feel the magic swirling in the room as the door slid open. There would be no Portaling out of here.

  Wylde huddled on a small cot, the blankets strewn across the floor and the pillow kicked into the corner. He turned to say something to the doctor, but Gabriel merely shrugged and locked him in. Wylde looked up long enough to meet Kascien’s gaze, then dropped her head back in her hands.

  They were both doomed.

  “Chin up,” he said, sliding down the door to sit on the tile. “We’re not dead, that’s a plus. And you’re not chained to a metal exam table, right? Also a plus.”

  “I’m also far away from Vanla and the Nest. They will send people after me. People who will lose their lives,” she muttered miserably. “I will not leave this prison alive, Kascien. This is just a cruel twist of fate.”

  Kascien frowned but said nothing. They would get out alive and he would make sure they got back to the desert, where she could reunite with her clan and they could do whatever it was to make him safe. He just had to keep hoping they’d get their chance and that, when it came, he’d recognize it.

  Chapter Five

  The more time Wylde spent with Kascien, the less she thought of him with words like ‘traitor’ and ‘vermin’. He was as much of a slave to the Magi as she was, perhaps even more so. He’d been here far longer than she had. He’d spent his entire life bonded to the cruel Gifted creatures with no choice but to serve them, or else.

  Kascien was also stronger than she’d given him credit for, both physically and mentally. Back in that room, when the Mage had attacked her, Kascien had saved her. She could still remember the feel of his strong arms wrapped around her, holding her tight as she fought against both him and her bloodlust for that Mage.

  He had let her know she was safe with him. And to be brutally honest? For the tiniest moment, she’d felt safe—as if she were back at the Nest, wrapped in the loving arms of her family.

  Yet she also felt guilt—he was stuck in this cell with her because he had dared to speak up for her. True, he’d gotten her better treatment just by a few snapped words. He’d been insubordinate to save her. She was nothing to him, they were perfect strangers, yet he’d been so bold on her behalf. Recal
ling his brave words brought a heat to her cheeks that she’d rather not acknowledge.

  No. She was not going to feel any sort of fellowship with a human slave to the Magi. Even if they somehow made it out of this cold, white prison alive, even if they made it to the desert, where Kascien could rid himself of his spellwrought marks, they would never be able to be more than friends, even if they wanted more. They just…couldn’t. She shook her head from the thought, banishing it from her mind.

  Kascien, who she’d thought was sleeping, was watching her. She could feel his gaze drilling into her back and she shivered lightly. She touched her head with both hands, feeling the ridge where they had cut into her skull. It throbbed every now and then, but her magic was healing it more quickly than any Barren could ever recover and for that, she was thankful.

  Kascien’s face was blank as she turned over in her cot, meeting his gaze boldly, unafraid of the boy who had saved her. The boy she’d sworn to kill for revenge of that poor dragon-dog. How far away that all seemed.

  “What?” she asked, straightening into a sitting position, her palms pressed against her bare knees. They had given her some sort of strange dress to wear, but it was slit down the back and low-necked in the front, showing off more than she was willing to share. She shifted to keep herself covered.

  “Nothing.” There was a sigh on the end of his words. “Just…thinking. Do you think your people will come looking for you?”

  Wylde frowned. In all honesty, she was praying they wouldn’t. Nothing good would happen to them if they tried to trade with the Magi.

  “My father is fighting for my freedom as we speak,” she said, knowing him all too well. She thought of his harsh words, their fight over her prince to-be looping over and over in her head. He took his duty seriously and expected the same out of her. She found herself wishing she’d never left the Nest in the first place. What if she never made it back?

  “Is he powerful?”

  “He is. He is our brave leader.” Wylde shook her head a little, staring at the tile wall as if it might show her a vision of her family. Of course, it didn’t. “It will be our Elders who keep him from jumping headlong into war. You remind me of him that way. Brash and reckless.” She smiled.

  “The Elders are wise and know that I could be…cut from the line if need be. My father could choose another mate, have another child to raise as the Kiir’vanan heir. He wouldn’t agree, but if it meant the safety of our entire clan? He would be forced to save the whole over a single endangered Wyvern, daughter or not.” She couldn’t keep the sadness from leaking into her voice, try as she might to steel her words over. “So I don’t know, Kascien.”

  He smiled wryly. “At least you have someone worried about you somewhere. I don’t have a freaking clue who my dad is or if he’d ever want a rat like me, or if he even knows about my existence. I have nothing—no magic, no mark of power, no way to protect myself. I’m just the Sovereign’s whipping boy and he obviously doesn’t care that I’m here. Not that it makes a difference.”

  “What about your mother?” She said a quick prayer at the memory of her mother, weak and bedridden as she lost the child and began to bleed from internal wounds too severe to heal. The Healers had been diligent at her bedside for two nights, but it had been too late.

  “Dead,” Kascien said bluntly, turning away from her so that she could only see the shadows playing across his face. They shrouded his emotions from her like a wall suddenly shoved between them. She pulled away as well, unsure of what to say when Kascien elaborated.

  “Her name was Haru. She was a strong Mage, one of the soldiers of our previous Sovereign. When he fell, his entire fleet fell with him. I remember a little bit about her, but she was gone often. I was left in the Nursery with the others, but by then it was obvious I would never come into my power. Haru was the only thing keeping me from slavery and when she died…nothing stopped the Sovereign from branding me. Life sucks like that, I guess, but you wouldn’t know about the hardships of life, being a princess and all.”

  Wylde blinked, letting his words lash against her skin, flaying open a new wound. She lunged to her feet with a snarl and had him pinned against the wall in less than a moment, her fangs inches from his nose.

  “You have no idea how hard my life is, boy,” she hissed out, all thoughts of liking him gone. Sure, he was hurt by the recollection of his memories, but he had no right to take it out on her. She dug claws into the skin of his shoulder and his green eyes widened, mouth gaping open for a moment.

  Then he sneered. “I don’t have to be here, Wylde. I could leave at any time.”

  “And go where? Back to your Sovereign? I thought you made it clear that you’re his worthless little whipping boy?”

  He flinched and turned his face away from hers. Wylde knew she struck a nerve. Her own growl simmered and she shot a glare at the guard who was peering in through the barred glass door, looking nervous. Probably wondering if the slave was worth saving if the wild Wyvern snapped.

  “You have no right to speak to me the way you do,” he muttered, his hands fisting the air. “You don’t know half the shit I’ve been through…”

  “I have no right? I am from a royal bloodline and you are nothing more than a peasant,” she said sharply, on her feet once again. Her stomach rolled and her heart thudded as she began to pace.

  No. She needed to shut the heck up. Pissing off Kascien—her last chance of survival—was just stupid. She clamped her mouth shut and massaged her temples. She retreated to the cot as he sat up and wrapped both arms around himself, as if consoling the wounded child he was on the inside. That stung her and she frowned.

  “Forgive me,” she murmured, suddenly ashamed of herself. He was a victim just as much as she was. They were even. “I speak before I think anything through. Of course I don’t know what you’ve been through—how could I? We’re worlds apart…”

  “Whatever.” He was already closed off to her. He leaned against the wall, his eyes pressed shut and his knees drawn up to his chest.

  Wylde took a breath and let it out slowly. Please, Goddess. Show us the way to our freedom before we tear each other to shreds. She began to hum a prayer, a lilting tune that carried across the room. If it bothered Kascien, the boy didn’t show it. She continued to hum until a tall Mage swung the door open.

  “Wyvern. You’ve been called for a viewing by the Sovereign.”

  Kascien’s head snapped up. Wylde bit her lip, glancing between him and the man before standing, her entire body crackling with electricity. When Kascien stood as well, the man held out his hand. “He only requests the Wyvern. You should stretch your legs while your charge is with us.”

  Kascien’s eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to speak, but Wylde stepped forwards. She placed her hand on his arm and he shot her a glare, but said nothing.

  “I’ll go. Wait for me.” She dropped her gaze away to greet the guard’s gaze. “Lead the way,” she said, trying to be civil, even though the Mage’s fingers twitched in a threat of power that made Wylde want to rebel. But she didn’t; she swallowed her pride, allowed her wrists to be bound, and let the man lead the way down the empty corridor.

  ***

  The Sovereign watched, pleased, as the Magi around him bustled to busy themselves the moment he waved a hand in dismissal. He enjoyed the look of them, their heads bent, eyes downcast as if searching for a penny on a floor of copper, a penny they would never find. He liked the feel of their magic, held tight against the skin, as if letting it loose might enrage him. Which it would. The Sovereign might have hands chopped off for misuse of magic against him. Either that, or command that their powers be bound, a painful process that turned their magic inside out and unusable. Then they would be little more use than a human slave.

  The man tapped his slender fingers against the leather arm of his chair, having sent one of his Magi off to fetch the Wyvern that had everyone’s panties in a twist. They had gotten lucky—not only was she Wyvern, but she was also p
rincess of the Kiir’vanan. She was the daughter of King Reitsch himself, a man who the Sovereign disliked immensely from past trades.

  He rubbed his hands together at the thought of the girl, fierce and deadly in her own aspect. And at the fact that her father would pay a pretty price have her back in the safety of their desert tribe. Not that that was going to happen. Yet still, she would probably fetch two or three dragons alone.

  There was a knock on his door and the Sovereign raised a hand. The door swung open to reveal a tall man with dark hair and even darker eyes, his face pinched with nerves. He held on to a slender girl in a hospital gown, her legs long and her arms coiled with muscle. Her hair had been shaved off, showcasing an ugly scar on her head, and her silver eyes were narrowed and shooting lasers at him. She puffed herself up, meeting his gaze. The Sovereign had to chuckle.

  “So it is true. The Wyvern princess graces the halls of Esperidion.” He stood slowly. She glared at him, her head high and her chin jutting out in defiance. He clasped his hands behind his back and drew nearer. “I am guessing you wish to return to your home, little snake?”

  “I would,” she said and he watched her skin ripple with a set of scales that blushed her cheeks with midnight blue. She took a breath and the scales receded into sun-kissed skin. “My father will not be pleased by your holding me hostage.”

  “I don’t truly care,” the Sovereign said around a smirk. “I’ve sent a messenger to Vanla. I expect three dragons for the safe return of the Kiir’vanan’s heir. Any less or any tricks and they will watch you die.”

  The Wyvern’s lip rose in a silent snarl, showing off an impressive set of fangs. A show of emotion that so touched the Sovereign. Or not.

  He smiled and raised his hand. As it wavered, the girl flew off her feet, hovering in the air several inches above the floor. “It is not wise to cross the strongest Magi in the world,” he said, grinning wickedly. He slammed his hand into his open palm and she careened downwards, hitting the stone floor with such force that she gave a squeal of pain.