by Lizzy Ford
“Yes,” she replied. “It is how the ancient mages forced warriors to bond.”
“It grows stronger the farther I go from you.” His tone held a furious note in it, one that made her feel vindicated in some small sense and urgent to flee in another. He held her gaze despite his warning earlier.
“I don’t feel what you do,” she replied.
“Were you ever apart from your master?” he asked. “Did Karav suffer this way?”
“I never slept a night away from his side,” she said sadly.
“You were his lover.”
“Of course not!” she snapped. “When I was old enough to be bound, Karav lived with me and helped my father raise me. I forbade him from going far from me. Many times, he scouted ahead or stayed behind when we traveled to handle the danger, but I knew he was never far.”
Crossing his arms in the space between them, Tieran studied her.
“Did this madness make you kill the mages and their warriors?” she asked, unable to shake her concern.
“I killed them because they were my enemies.”
“But they were mages. And their warriors.”
Karav once told her he could kill a mage and he could kill a mage-warrior – but not both at the same time. They were too powerful combined, for the warriors were unparalleled in their fighting skills and the mages able to kill off attackers the warriors distracted.
How had Tieran killed two mages? Two wind mages, who should have been able to hold him in midair until their warriors cut him to pieces?
Her concern was bordering on panic again. Tieran did not need to be bound to her to feel her tension. He leaned again.
“I’m not resisting!” she cried, frustrated.
He raised an eyebrow. She drew a breath and forced her body to relax.
“You have much to learn of our ways,” he said. “Why does it matter to you who I kill? You fear for your own life, knowing I can kill a mage?” There was a note bordering on arrogance in his voice.
“Killing me would be no challenge,” she retorted. “I am too far from water to be more of a threat than any other woman. This is not true of wind mages. And if you faced them and their two warriors in the same breath …” He had done what entire armies could not.
Tieran was special, and that scared her.
“Remember that, mage,” he said, unable to appreciate his accomplishment in the same light she did. “What happens when I bind you to me?”
“You stabilize my magic.”
His gaze sharpened. The pressure of his body made her sigh.
“You gain the tools you need to protect your ward,” she said. “If I am in danger, you will know. It’s not something I know how to explain except to say you must experience it. We become forever bound.”
He scowled. She hoped his unwillingness would prevent him from coming after her once she escaped. The man who killed mages and their warriors with no effort was not the man who would fail to claim her, if he wanted to. She needed to put enough distance between the two of them to discourage him.
“We will have to leave your Inlands,” she added, wanting to give him as many reasons as possible not to follow through. “We will put your kin in danger otherwise.”
Tieran scowled and turned away. “My tribe has suffered enough.”
“Then do not let them suffer more when you can stop it. We can go far from the Inlands. Maybe even across the Topaz Pass.” She sagged against the wall, exhausted by his interrogation.
“I’ve never left the Inlands, and I never plan to.” Tieran stripped out of his tunic and under-tunic, revealing the thick muscles of his back to her. She turned away, as she did for Karav. A few minutes later, the sounds of him changing clothing ceased, and he strapped Karav’s sword to his back.
Karav’s sword.
Her throat tightened.
“Fetch your cloak,” Tieran directed.
She obeyed. He did not bother waiting at the door but walked out and left it open. She assumed he meant for her to follow. Sela trotted after him, hoping he was taking her to the wells. Her hopes fell when he entered a bustling great hall. She smelled the water in the air among the scents and breathed it in deeply. A glance out the windows confirmed thick, gray clouds that had yet to rain but would soon.
I can’t stay here, she thought in desperation.
5
The great hall was loud and dirty, filled with savage Inlanders. One of the men stared at her, and she looked away quickly then pulled up her hood, recalling her reluctant guardian’s words. She was not about to be dragged into some savage’s bed.
Someone pushed by her, and she moved to the side of the door, taking in the tables and tall chairs worn by generations of use. They were wrapped around one of five spits in the hall. Hearths were burning, and the scent of boars and deer roasting made her mouth water. In the Seat of Vurdu, the tables were arranged by rank. Here, it seemed as savage as the people themselves. People sat where they pleased and moved from table to table at will. Inlander women sat beside their men at the tables. Topless whores circulated, three couples were rutting in corners, and everyone was drunk or close to it.
The slave and servant women of the hold, identifiable by the skin colors differing from that of the Inlanders, sat on benches around the edge of the hall, silent, with their eyes on the ground.
Though she wanted to leave, Sela was done angering the warrior for today. She dared not push him too far, lest his agitated magic drive him to bind them. She found an empty spot on a bench along the wall and sat, staring out the window across the hall from her.
The darker the skies became, the louder and drunker the people in the hall grew. Several of them lurched to the women on the benches and grabbed one. Sela was unable to determine if they came for specific women or just chose women at random. To her surprise, some of the Inland women did the same. She knew what services whores provided and had some idea of what men and women did in bed, but seeing the blatant display of lust around her left her horrified and speechless.
Was this what she had to look forward to? Karav had warned her many times she would be married off to a prince one day, but she had always ignored him. No man who anywhere could live up to her regard for her father – who spoiled and loved her in a way most aristocrats left to their wet-nurses – or to Karav – whose nobility and honor were renowned. She was not about to allow any man to rut in a corner with her, even if he did!
She had always scoffed the idea of marrying when she could accompany Karav on adventures instead. The scene in the great hall left her feeling she had made the right decision.
Disturbed, she stared at her feet. She neither knew nor cared where Tieran was and refused the food and wine offered her by one of the half-naked slaves.
Tomorrow, she would go to the wells and talk to the hidden lake. She did not care if it emptied out anywhere at all. Giving herself to the magic of the waters was much more appealing than ending up an Inland slave rutting with random savages in the corner of such a place. Dead, her spirit would find Karav’s in the magical underworld, and she would not feel alone anymore.
Long after dark fall, the hall grew too warm and loud. She debated leaving. She had sneaked looks around and not seen Tieran, though it was hard to see two of the tables from where she sat. By now, he was probably drunk or in a corner with a whore. Would he notice her absence? Would it push him over the top to where he either hit or cut her?
With his brute intimidation fresh in her thoughts, it took Sela a little while longer to work up the courage to leave. She was half afraid of some man grabbing her and even more afraid that man was going to be Tieran.
Finally, she rose and started towards the door. She made it unscathed. She stepped into the hallway and released the breath she held, relieved, until she smacked straight into someone. Instinctively, she reached out to steady herself. The hood fell away, and she met the gaze of one of the blond savages headed towards the hall.
Interest sprang up in his gaze. He looked fro
m his grip on her forearm to her face. The three men around him ceased talking to stare at her as well.
Cursing herself quietly, she looked down and started away.
“Prettiest whore I’ve ever seen here,” he said.
She bristled. “I am not –”
Tieran’s hand around the back of her neck silenced her.
“Tieran, I should have known. You have an eye for the beauties,” the man continued with a chuckle. “I need a woman after our great battle.”
Tieran nudged her aside, and she shifted to give him room to draw abreast, eyes on the ground.
“Cousin, this whore has more pox than Giselda,” Tieran said with ease and amusement he had yet to use around her. The men around them laughed. “I brought you something better.”
“Better than a beautiful whore?” The man who spoke was drunk. He approached, his foul breath reaching her before he moved into her personal space. He picked up her braid then patted her down.
Gods, she wanted to leave this place! Sela backed into Tieran, the lesser of two evils.
“Come, I will show you,” Tieran said. He released her and clapped a hand on his cousin’s shoulder, steering him down the hall.
Sela sighed. The other men were leering at her. She fled after Tieran, trailing him through the halls until she recognized where she was. The cousins spoke warmly and loudly. When they reached Tieran’s chamber, he opened the door to let his cousin pass then faced her. She looked up at him.
“Keep your eyes down, and talk to no one,” he growled. “Next time, I’ll let you find out on your own what happens.”
“I didn’t –”
He took a step towards her. She held up her hands in a sign of surrender and dropped her gaze to his chest. Instead of backing her into a wall, he pulled up her hood then stepped aside.
“Go to your corner. Don’t move until he is gone,” Tieran directed her.
Angry, she did as he said. His cousin glanced at her once then appeared to forget her, instead intrigued by something Tieran pulled from his saddlebags. She tensed, waiting for Tieran to notice the dirk was gone. If he did, he gave no indication.
After animated talk that stretched into the night, his cousin left happily with his treasure. Tieran closed and barred the door behind his guest. The air around him was charged. He was fighting the magic again, this time with more effort.
She stayed in her corner, praying for the gods to give Tieran the strength to make it through the night.
“You did not eat,” he said, eyes going to the food near her.
“I’m not hungry.”
Removing Karav’s broadsword, Tieran placed it on a trunk then pulled off his dagger belt and the rest of his weapons. The last one, a dagger and sheathe at the small of his back, he flung across the room with a quiet curse. It hit the wall and clattered to the floor.
“Of all the curses to befall me!” he snarled.
Fight it, she urged him silently but did not dare speak when he was this agitated.
Tieran drew a deep breath, released it, then sat and pulled off his boots. Peeling off his tunic and under-tunic, he rose and tossed the clothing on the floor. Tieran crossed to the torch providing light to the room. He lifted it and tossed it into the hearth.
Safe within the hood, Sela gazed at him, taking in his wide chest and flat stomach. Dark hair sprinkled his chest and formed a line down his lower abdomen that disappeared into his breeches. His skin looked as if it was candle wax poured over a frame molded by the sculptors at court.
She never looked twice at Karav’s body the few times she saw his bare chest. But she could not look away from Tieran’s. The same warmth she experienced in the great hall, when she saw men and women rutting, returned.
“If you run …” Tieran warned without looking towards her.
“I will not,” she replied. Tonight.
He was still for a moment before crossing to his pallet. He lay down. She released her breath and rested her head against the wall. While tired, no part of her was ready to sleep. This place was too foreign, the men within the hold too barbaric for her to feel safe. She had never slept a night away from Karav’s side since they met and doubted she would sleep ever again.
Sela let the corner support her weight. A ripple of magic tore through her again around midnight. She looked down at her hand. The scar was gone.
Farewell, Karav.
She sobbed silently and then stared at the burning hearth when she was too exhausted to cry more. The fire burned low, until embers remained, and the light of dawn crept into the room through the small window over the bed. She shivered as the chill of morning crept through the stone walls.
Tieran stirred with the dawn and sat up. He appeared rested.
“Mages don’t sleep?” he asked, glancing towards her corner.
“I cannot.”
He rose and crossed the chamber. He appeared more fevered this morning than he had last night. His golden eyes almost glowed with the strange illness, and sweat sparkled all over his body. She sensed more than saw his resolve was being chipped away by the magic.
He would not last another full day, which meant, she had to act, even if she did not yet know the danger in using her magic while unbound.
“My lord, will you take me to the wells this morning?” she asked in the most deferential voice she could muster. “It might help your condition. Water magic is in your blood as well.”
He pulled on a tunic before responding. “Very well.”
She clenched her hands together, praying he did not sense her eagerness. She stood and stretched her legs, waiting for him to put on his boots and weapons.
“Tonight,” he said at last. “I will not await the full moon.”
Her breath caught. “As you desire, my lord.”
“Desire,” he repeated with a cold laugh. “I do not desire any of this!”
“Nor do I. We are both trapped.”
He whirled his cloak on and strode to the door and out, leaving it open for her as he had the night before.
Sela scrambled after him. The hold was silent early in the morning, and they walked through the bailey and crossed the open drawbridge. In the distance, rain streaked the sky gray while thunder rumbled. The wells sang to her as they drew closer. Anxious to connect with the magic, she trotted ahead of him and stopped when she reached the well.
The hidden lake spoke to her. She closed her eyes to listen to the silky whisper. It was shallow and long and emptied out into a small lake to the west, half a day’s ride by horseback. Where she was from, a lake this size would be considered no more than a pond. To her dismay, the water assured her it and the river snaking under the wells were two of the largest bodies of water in the Inlands.
Half a day was not much of a head start from Tieran, especially since the people of this land would know where one of the only two surface lakes would be located. But if she and the binding dirk were gone, there would be no magic to draw him, she reasoned. Free of the madness, an Inlander mercenary with no honor would not think twice about leaving her to her fate and returning to the destiny he preferred.
The lake tugged at her with insistence that surprised her. This close to the water, she was unable to control the singing magic in her blood. She stepped back to center herself and opened her eyes. Tieran was at her back, too close, as always.
“What is it?” he asked.
“The bond is broken,” she said then added, “The magic is unnaturally strong.”
If she led him to believe her disappearance was the result of magic and not her own planning …
She responded silently to the tug, testing and plying the magic with her own. It would take her to the surface lake, but she did not know if it would let her go once there. Given the alternative, a lifetime with the savage, she was more than eager to risk it.
The nearness of her magic appeared to affect Tieran as well. His struggle was in the air around her, the fire in his eyes feral. He grew more agitated while she calmed.
“Then I will bind you now.” The words were spoken with bitterness that made her smile to herself. “Come.”
He moved away and walked fast, the need in his blood too strong for him to wait for nightfall. Sela turned and trailed, pretending to be obedient. She slowed her pace. When he was far enough away, she stopped. Closing her eyes, she released her hold on the magic. The roar of the ocean filled her ears, and the tug of the water turned into a demand.
Cold well water snatched her before she was ready. Sela struggled briefly then let it claim her and closed her eyes. It yanked her down through the stone well and into the earth, carrying her down the tiny river into the underground cavern. She spun and twirled in response to the magic moving in and out of her. She did not need to breathe while underwater; water flowed into her lungs to replace the air.
The cavern was dark and grew colder as the water carried her beneath the surface of the shallow underground lake westward to the aboveground lake she sought.
While it took her where she desired, the magic refused to obey her other command to release her. Darkness formed around the edges of her vision as she lost control. The water magic became more commanding, demanding more of her. She yielded and gathered her strength then pushed back, determined to escape without losing herself entirely or being torn apart by her own power.
The water magic relented – but barely.
Sela’s head broke the surface of the aboveground lake. She coughed and gasped, replacing water with air in her body. Its deepest point was shallow enough for her toes to touch the bottom, and she grounded herself.
The water snatched her down again, hauling her under. She fought it, and it released her. Surfacing, she began to swim towards the shore instead of using her magic to pull her there. She was a horse length away from the rocky beach when the water magic claimed her again and yanked her under. Choking, she shoved all her power at the water around her and shot to the surface.