Water Spell (Guardians of the Realm Book 1)

by Lizzy Ford

  “It’s refreshing to have a conversation with someone who is not a savage,” she said.

  The noble chuckled. “The Inlanders are hearty and honor-less. With enough gold, they will abandon the holdings that have been in their family for a thousand seasons.” He motioned to the sagging hold. “You cannot have chosen to stay in the Inlands. What made you leave your home?”

  “My guardian, Karav.” Her voice caught at his name. She cleared her throat. “His stone was fading, and he found my new guardian here in the Inlands.”

  “Unfortunate.”

  She was not sure if he meant Karav passing or the Inlander guardian. Sela was unable to help thinking that at least her Inlander guardian was candid with her.

  “I’m a guardian without a ward,” the lord told her. “Much to the embarrassment of my family, who wanted to mate me off to the king’s daughter. Instead, I’m a servant awaiting his mage.”

  “It's an honor, where I am from,” she said.

  His attention was down the hallway, where a man closer to the commander’s age approached.

  “You were right, my brother,” the man said. “Your guardian sense guided us to her.”

  “Lady mage, my brother, Qinlin,” Lord Winlin said.

  She felt him tense at the approach of his brother. Where Winlin’s gaze was cool, his brother’s was cold and steely.

  “Has he told you?” Lord Qinlin asked.

  “No, brother. It's no way to welcome the mage.”

  "My brother’s guardian instincts soften his resolve. However, out of respect for you,” this Lord Qinlin said to her, “I will broach the subject with you after you have rested.”

  Sela did not ask. Her instinct warned her that – whatever it was – it was not good.

  “Take her to her chamber, Winlin,” the older brother said. Qinlin strode away, but not before his gaze swept over Sela. She shifted closer to the mage-warrior beside her self-consciously.

  Lord Winlin’s body relaxed when his brother left. Sela looked up at him, sensing the same protectiveness in him that Citon displayed. It was the nature of a guardian to want to protect a mage, even if the mage was not his.

  “What does he mean to do to me?” she whispered.

  Lord Winlin began walking again. He was quiet for a long moment, leading her through the hold. Sela trailed, disappointed he hadn’t answered. He led her to a wing guarded by several men who stepped aside and bowed as he entered. He opened a door to a cozy chamber and motioned her in.

  She went. He followed and closed the door behind him.

  She paused, tilting her head. The sense of enchantment was stronger here. Still, she could not identify what kind of magic it was or its source. It wrapped through her senses, dulling them, and rendered her thoughts hazy, similar to the experience of being fevered.

  “My brother intends to take you as his mate and for me to become your warrior,” Lord Winlin said.

  Sela’s mouth went lax. “I would refuse you both!”

  “Then he will take you by force. It is not wise for you to do so,” he advised. “The water mage will belong to our kingdom. If it is through my brother, or if I must challenge and defeat your guardian to take his place. Or both, as my brother hopes.”

  He went to the window. She sensed he really did not want to be her guardian.

  “Perhaps you should challenge my guardian,” she suggested, doubting a hundred mage-warriors could defeat Tieran.

  She seated herself, tired from the journey and unable to prevent the enchantment from growing stronger. Her thoughts were becoming foggy.

  “I have no desire to challenge him, after what I heard about him,” Lord Winlin said. “These Inlanders are wild animals. My brother would say I’m a coward, but I have no desire to die.”

  The discomfort she felt with his brother was completely gone with him. Sela almost pitied the man before her. He was kind and troubled. And handsome in a way that made her heart quicken.

  He was also nice to her, unlike Tieran.

  Odd warmth filled her and the air around her. The charge was not familiar, not the same she experienced around Tieran or which had radiated off Karav when he was troubled. It was different from the natural energy surrounding a guardian.

  The enchanted talisman is here somewhere. As soon as the thought emerged from her mind, it was swallowed.

  Karav once told her there was more magic in the world than that of mages from places like Moonbury and Draco. Was this enchantment from outside the island kingdoms?

  The alarm within her faded, swallowed by the fog expanding in her mind.

  “Tell your brother you will take me as a mate,” she heard herself suggesting. “It will give us both time to escape our situations.” A flicker of awareness crept into her mind but was quickly quashed.

  Lord Winlin considered her doubtfully. “It is possible,” he began. “But my brother is hard to dissuade.”

  “Then let us convince him. If we could be bound together with you as my protector, it would make sense for us to wed as well.”

  “You are kind to favor my situation.”

  Another flicker, this one more urgent, stirred in her mind. He was right – she was being unnaturally kind, considering he had kidnapped her.

  Just as quickly, the doubt vanished again.

  She shook her head, uncertain why her thoughts felt scrambled. It was more than exhaustion, more than the toll her wound took on her body.

  “You are too good to me. And here, I’ve taken you prisoner.” The noble’s conflict faded. He approached her, pausing close enough that she noticed his body heat as she did Tieran’s when he was too close.

  I like the way Tieran smells better, she thought.

  “Is that what you want?” Lord Winlin asked.

  She had already forgotten what they were discussing. Her mind was stuck on Tieran’s masculine, earthy scent.

  The warmth and fog swept over her. All she wanted to do was fall into it and agree to anything Lord Winlin said.

  “It pleases me to hear this. I stressed to all of my brother’s men that mages are to be treated with respect. My brother does not feel the same,” he replied. “The Inlanders do not share this respect for you, I believe.”

  She laughed. “No, they do not!”

  “As I have saved you from them, perhaps you will grant me a favor?”

  “Anything,” she breathed.

  “You will tell me where your mage-warrior is? Our plan will only work if he is gone.”

  Another alarm sounded deep inside her and was absorbed by the fog

  “I apologize. What was your question?” she asked.

  “Don’t fight it.” He lifted her hand and kissed it gently. “If we are to escape my brother and wed, we will need to leave quietly. We cannot have your warrior following us.”

  “Of course not,” she agreed. “But I don’t know where he is.”

  “Take what time you need. You must know where he would be.”

  She did not, because she knew nothing about Tieran.

  Lord Winlin spoke again, but this time, the words were lost in her mind. Her surroundings blurred, and she became adrift in sensations she did not understand: warmth, bright colors, and soft whispers.

  She blinked.

  When her eyes opened, she was alone in the room.

  Sela looked around, startled.

  Why did her head feel woolly and her memory not recall much past walking into this chamber? Had someone been with her? If so, who, and where did this person go?

  Her uneasiness returned. The moon had not been visible when she walked into the chamber, but it was now. She had been standing in place long enough for it to drift away from the horizon. She had no memory of what passed once she left the bailey. She was unhurt, aside from the ache of the wound where she had stabbed herself accidentally.

  What just happened? She could not help thinking.

  8

  Sela curled up by the fire, aware she was incapable of sleeping here. Part of her h
oped Tieran came soon. Another part of her feared what condition he would be in when he did. They had not been apart this long, and he did not react well when they were separated at all. Would he be angry about the attack on his uncle’s hold?

  Karav and Tieran were opposites and yet, she found herself anxious for Tieran to appear, despite his Inland savagery. She had never been alone for this length of time. She considered their discussion from the night he cut her. He had terrified her but also forced her to see the truth: he had never hurt her. He had sworn an oath to Karav, and he had kept it when a lesser man might not have. The wild look on his face when he came to claim her…

  It made her shiver in more than fear. She did not understand the thrill that went through her at the idea he had been driven to find her. Claim her. Make her his.

  Sela shook her head. Her mind was muddled in this place. Why?

  Three oaths. She had taken one to Karav. She still felt she would take one to Tieran, though he did not seem to believe her. Their bond was stronger than that which bound mates; they were together until one of them died and would be united in the watery underworld when both were dead. Why would she not consider an oath to him?

  Rolling onto her back, she recalled something else Karav said: Tieran had no loyalty to anyone but her. She had not considered his rather rough treatment a form of loyalty. Her thoughts went to the nobles in this hold, to everyone she had ever met. Even Karav had a loyalty to the priests and king. As far as she knew, he had always done as they bade him with regards to her.

  Tieran would never put anyone’s orders above protecting her.

  Then where was he? Why did he continue to disappear and leave her vulnerable? Where did he go?

  His intensity frightened her, and his ignorance about what she was and the world outside the Inlands rivaled that of a child.

  The more she thought, the more apparent it became that he had tried to stay away from her as much as she did him. She had appreciated it upon meeting him, but after the second kingdom capturing her, she began to believe she needed someone at her side, even if that someone was the savage.

  Like a wild animal suddenly caged, he appeared to be testing the limits of his duty. But she was not a duty. She was an honor! She was his world now, and he was hers. This was how it had been with Karav.

  Tieran was not Karav. Would they always be at odds?

  These thoughts gave way to new ones flowing through her mind too fast for her to catch.

  Why do my thoughts make no sense? Was there a talisman in this room meant to disable her somehow?

  She started to rise and then stopped, suddenly feeling weak, exhausted. Sela lay down again with a sigh. Whatever was wrong, she could fix it come morning.

  The fire burned down and the moon reached the height of its journey across the sky. Fatigued but unable to sleep, Sela gazed at the ceiling. She heard the scraping sound of stone on stone from the corner of the chamber and sat up. The stones in the corner were moving, as if someone was shoving them from the other side.

  Sela rose, eyeing the heavy door she had not noticed before. Creeping towards the main entrance to the chamber, she waited to see who was sneaking into her room before screaming for the guards.

  The unnatural exhaustion hit her again, and she stopped and sagged.

  “Mage!” The voice was a whisper. A familiar mage-warrior poked his head into the chamber.

  “Citon!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing?”

  “Come.”

  “But I love it here.” The moment the words left her mouth, she was alarmed. “I think … I need help.”

  He broke free of the secret passage and crossed to her. Without asking her permission, he lifted her and flung her over his shoulder.

  The sense she did not want to leave – ever – intensified. Until she entered the passageway. The magic lacing her thoughts and mastering her body vanished, and she was able to think clearly again.

  “Put me down,” she said.

  Citon did so.

  Sela touched her head, where a headache was blooming. “What did they do to me?”

  “Magic of some sort,” answered Vinian. He emerged from the darkness in the direction Citon was headed. The wind mage inclined his head once in greeting, his lips pursed. “Come. We must hurry.”

  She had yet to see the mage ruffled, even in the middle of the battle at the village. Sensing there was much danger in what they did, she did not question them. The wind mage led them through the cool passageway. It was silent and musty, wide enough for Citon and tall enough his hair grazed the ceiling.

  The tunnel sloped downward before leveling out.

  The wind mage stopped. Sela barely caught herself before running into him. Standing on her tiptoes, she saw he stood at another stone wall. He raised a hand and tapped an enormous gold ring against the stone. The sharp ring echoed in the tunnel behind them.

  The door grated open.

  Sela shivered as she stepped into the moonlight. The night air was cold. A small party awaited them, and her gaze fell to the familiar face of Lord Winlin. He was dressed for traveling like the warriors with him – except his hands were in chains.

  “We captured him when he left the hold. Seems he was trying to escape his brother,” the wind mage said with a snort. “Come, water mage.” He strode to a waiting horse and mounted.

  Sela stared at Lord Winlin. A trace of the strange magic hovered around him, leaving her no doubt about who had placed a spell on the chamber. She knew nothing of any other kind of magic, aside from that of mages. How had he done it?

  Vinian cleared his throat impatiently. Sela waited for him to settle and then slid her foot into the stirrup to mount behind him.

  Citon motioned for the party to ride. They did so at a quick pace, headed west again, back towards the Inlands. The lake bid her farewell, and she silently promised to visit it one day.

  Sela held onto the wind mage tightly. They did not keep to the roads and wound their way through hills rather than going over them.

  She was not the only one who needed discretion, she assessed. Citon rode close to them, gaze taking in their surroundings as if he waited for an ambush.

  Only when they’d ridden out of sight of the hold did the mage-warrior pull his blowing horse to a walk. He communicated with his men in hand signals. Two took off, one forward and one behind them, while Citon neared the man guarding the noble.

  “What’s going on?” she asked the wind mage quietly.

  “Winlin and his brother are not on good terms,” was the amused reply. “The loyalties of the king’s family and their father’s men are split between the two. It's been a quiet war. This is only the latest battle. But it gave us the chance to grab one of them. Prisoners of this nature will make our progress home easier.”

  “His father will not challenge you for fear of his son’s life,” she assessed.

  “And we can ransom him for gold.”

  “Doesn’t your king supply you with gold?”

  “Biu is the poorest of the kingdoms. We were given what he could spare, but he couldn’t build an army and support us for moons.”

  Sela was beginning to feel as if she did not know anything of the world. Inlanders, enchantments, and a poor king. What other surprises awaited her?

  As if sensing her emotional turmoil, the strange magic of the sea whispered by her. It had no real source, except that it came from somewhere in the north. As soon as the sensation brushed her, it was gone. Her mind went to the lake’s claim of an ocean, a memory she could not yet make sense of.

  “Hello, again, mage,” Vinian said with a smile. “You escaped us once. It will not happen again.”

  She said nothing, grateful to be out of the stuffy hold with its strange enchantments, even if she were back in the company of men she had no intention of staying with for long.

  Citon returned to them. “We are splitting into two groups. We will need all the time we can make to escape to the east with our prisoners.”

  �
�Through the blasted Inlands again,” the wind mage complained. “We risk drawing her mage-warrior.”

  Citon’s gaze went to her. “The life debts you owe us. We will trade them for our safety from your warrior.”

  “What life debts?” she asked.

  “We pulled you from the lake and ensured your mage-warrior claimed you,” Vinian claimed.

  “You mean, you threw me in front of him and prayed he didn’t kill me,” she snapped.

  “He didn’t.”

  The wind mage was arrogant. Citon knew the truth. They had helped her for the sole purpose anyone would: because they intended to drag her back to their king.

  But … he was right about the life debt. They had rescued her from her own magic.

  “You assume I can control him,” she said with a frown. “If it’s possible, then yes, I will prevent him from slaughtering you. This is the longest and farthest apart we have been. I’m not at all certain he will not cut me down beside you. But I would wager all I own that he’ll find us.”

  “This is why Inlanders are not mage-warriors!” Vinian snapped. “They have no sense of duty.”

  Citon, however, offered a small smile. He wheeled his horse and trotted to Lord Winlin and his guard.

  “Lord Winlin. What is he?” Sela asked as Vinian nudged his horse to follow.

  “An unbound mage-warrior.”

  “He is more, or he wields some kind of magic.”

  “You must be strong to be so far from water and still sense magic,” Vinian sounded approving for the first time since they met. “He bought a spell from a sorcerer he claims came from the western continent.”

  “The lands no one has ever explored?”

  “The very same. The spell lets him alter minds by touching them. He tried his magic on Citon, but my warrior wasn’t vulnerable to it.”

  She shivered. “I don’t like that.”

  “Nor do I. The guard with him has a talisman to protect him.”

  “Is there no honor at all on this island?” she complained.

  “I don’t see your king trying to help you,” the wind mage replied archly.