by Lisa Shearin
“Where?”
“All around us.”
Not the answer I wanted. One of the elves shifted, ready to run, his terror a tangible thing in the dark. Another elf’s teeth chattered with cold, fear, or both.
“Don’t run.” Vegard’s voice was low and commanding.
“Don’t even move. It will pass us by. It hunts not for us.” His words were oddly formal and awed. As a Guardian, Vegard would have done more than his share of time on battlefields. No doubt he’d seen Reapers in action.
It touched me. My breath caught in my throat, my heart faltered. The soothing and eternal cold that flowed over me was death in its purest form. It was the complete absence of life, that which drew the souls of the wandering dead into itself.
Like the souls in the Saghred.
Please, no.
I was the reason the Reaper had come.
Thousands of disembodied souls, not truly alive, not entirely dead. With the Saghred’s containments gone, those souls had become shining beacons, irresistible lures. The Reaper’s coils wrapped themselves around me, soft and soothing, welcoming and entreating. Seeking the source of those thousands, the wellspring from which it could draw them.
I was that wellspring. I was the bond servant. Souls could pass through me to the Saghred, so souls could pass out of me into the Reaper-and my own soul would be taken with them.
I was the vessel that Death had sent one of his own to empty. The Reaper wasn’t evil, it simply was. And it had a job to do, and that job was me.
Vegard realized the danger. I heard him move, felt his fear for me.
“Stay back,” I said quickly, my voice thin.
The Saghred knew what to do, and I did it without hesitation. It didn’t want to give up its souls-and I wasn’t giving up mine. I wrapped my arms tightly around my ribs and closed in upon myself, drawing every shred of my will, my essence, vibrant and burning with life, to encase myself in living armor. Life so strong that Death itself couldn’t penetrate it.
The coils of soul-numbing cold hesitated, then renewed their efforts. Insistent, probing, looking of a weakness.
And finding none.
My defiance wasn’t entirely my own. The Saghred’s power helped me block every touch, every seductive entreaty. A Reaper could quell magic, but right now the Saghred wasn’t magic. It was life. Imprisoned and tormented souls, but still alive. The stone had always existed beyond Death’s clutches, and a flash of insight told me that this was not Death’s first attempt to claim those it considered its own by right, a right that had been repeatedly denied.
The Saghred had shaken off its bonds this morning, and now Death had sent a Reaper to try to collect. Again.
“No!”
I screamed, terrified and defiant-and in smothered silence. My silent scream tore the coils that were weaving their way around me like a shroud. Death had been denied before, and it was not going to win now. My scream turned into a snarl as I held on to my life and clutched my soul; that single, screamed word channeling my rage into a white-hot fury. The Saghred had torn me from my home and turned my family and friends into targets for madmen. Mages and kings wanted my power and my freedom.
Now Death wanted my life.
“No!”
The coils loosened, the pressure became less.
“No.”
I said it quietly into the darkness, then repeated it with confidence.
The cold receded. The Reaper was gone.
It would come back.
I took one breath, then another, drew warm air into my lungs. Air that smelled of earth, and water, and life. My life, Phaelan’s and Vegard’s, and the men with us.
We were alive.
Vegard’s lightglobe flickered to life. Phaelan lit a torch.
“Is it gone?” Galen whispered.
“For now,” Vegard said, his eyes on mine.
Death was eternal; it would always be back. Vegard and I knew what had almost happened; Phaelan and his father’s men didn’t need to.
“What the hell was that?” Phaelan directed his question at me. I wasn’t going to answer him. Not now. Maybe not ever.
My throat was bone-dry. I reached for the water skin at my belt; Vegard passed me his flask.
“You take what you need, ma’am.” His voice was quiet. His eyes awed.
I did.
I swallowed and the whiskey burned its way down. “Galen, get us to Sirens.”
Chapter 10
For the rest of the way to Sirens, that tunnel was bright as day. We used every light we could strike from flint or summon from magic to keep the darkness and any creature lurking there where they belonged-away from us.
When the Reaper came back for me-and there was no doubt in my mind that would happen-he, it, or whatever wouldn’t be alone. There would be more. And when they came, what I had done this time wouldn’t be enough. The Saghred and I probably didn’t run that Reaper off; its job must have been to find me. Mission accomplished. Death must be thrilled.
“Raine!”
Any hand that wasn’t white-knuckled around a torch drew steel.
I knew that voice, but I still had a dagger in my hand, and part of me was tempted to use it. The other part wanted to run to the tall and lean goblin standing on the edge of our light.
Regardless of whether I decided to stab or hug Tamnais Nathrach, he had a lot of explaining to do. But from the way he was garbed and armed, he was expecting more trouble than me to show up on his doorstep.
He was in black leather armor from head to toe, including boots that came up to mid-thigh. I saw a few blades on him, but with Tam there were always more that you couldn’t see. The last time I’d seen him his hair had been pulled back in a long, goblin battle braid. Today his hair was loose, falling in a dark, silken curtain over his shoulders and down to the middle of his back.
Tam was silvery skinned, black eyed, and wicked sexy.
Beyond Tam was the open door to Sirens’ basement. Standing just behind him were a pair of goblins I recognized. Tam called them friends and colleagues; our family would have called them high-priced, out-of-town talent. They were dark mages, they were powerful, and dirty was the only way they knew how to fight. I had to hand it to Tam; he knew how to pick good backup.
Tam stopped just beyond the glare of our lights, his dark eyes alert to any movement that wasn’t us. “Inside. Quickly.”
We didn’t have to be invited twice.
I kept my mouth shut all the way upstairs to Tam’s apartment above the theatre stage. I thought my restraint was nothing short of miraculous.
Tam walked in front of me, which gave me ample opportunity to stare daggers into his back-and to be reminded once again that Tam Nathrach had a great ass. Yes, I’d almost had my soul sucked out by one of Death’s minions, but some things a woman just couldn’t ignore. Tam was manipulative, secretive, and you couldn’t get a straight answer even if you choked it out of him-but his leather-clad posterior was without peer.
Tam spoke without turning. “Enjoying the view?”
I put a whole winter’s worth of frost into my voice. “It’s the first thing I’ve appreciated all day.” I didn’t appreciate being attacked, used, or threatened-and I despised being terrified.
All of the above pissed me off in ways that I couldn’t even begin to describe. Though when we reached the top of those stairs, I was going to give it a damned fine shot.
Vegard and Phaelan were going to wait on the landing below, and Uncle Ryn’s six crewmen were standing guard at the foot of the stairs in the theatre. The moment we’d stepped across Sirens’ threshold, Vegard expanded his job description to include chaperone. Mychael didn’t want Tam and I in the same room. I understood his concern, but I needed to talk to Tam alone. I had some questions for him that I didn’t want Vegard-but especially Mychael-to know the answers to yet. Vegard stayed on the landing, but he didn’t like it.
I almost told him that Tam and I didn’t need a chaperone, regardless of our umi’atsu
bond, but I’d have been lying through my teeth. Tam and I have always needed a chaperone. He was a not-quite-recovered dark mage. Thanks to the Saghred, I was a dark mage magnet. The two of us were an apocalyptic, magical kaboom waiting to happen.
I’ve never been one for small talk, so when Tam closed the door behind us, that was my signal.
“When were you going to tell me?” I demanded.
Tam stopped and turned, and from his baffled expression, he honestly had no idea what I was talking about.
I was only too happy to enlighten him. I was still shaking from that Reaper wrapping itself around me, and all that rage and fear needed an outlet. “What we did with that Volghul, what we could probably do to any demon anytime or anywhere thanks to a certain umi’atsu bond-when were you going to tell me about that?”
Tam was silent for a moment. “Until this morning I didn’t know what we had was an umi’atsu bond.”
“But you knew it could happen.” I didn’t ask it as a question.
“I knew it was possible,” he said quietly.
“And you didn’t tell me.”
Tam’s black eyes locked on mine. “When I saw that Volghul through your eyes, I knew a Hellgate was open on this island, and I knew how much danger you and the boys were in. At that point, I had more important things to do than-”
I stiffened. “What else have you seen through me?”
“Nothing. I knew we had a link since that night under the elven embassy, but I didn’t know it was an umi’atsu bond until that Volghul showed up. Your fear for those students, for Piaras…” Tam stopped, and his jaw tightened. “And for Talon-was so strong that I felt it with you. Then I could see it. A connection that strong and clear could only happen with an umi’atsu bond. Once I realized what we had, I knew I could work through you to take down that Volghul.”
I took a deep breath and let it out, trying to calm myself for what I had to ask next. I had to be calm because when I asked it, Tam just might shock the hell out of me with a straight answer for once, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it. “I heard that it also makes us magically mated, married even.”
Tam had been married once before in the normal way to a Mal’Salin duchess, making him a Mal’Salin duke. His wife’s unsolved murder didn’t change his aristocratic status, even after he left the goblin court. Somehow I didn’t think the goblin royal family would be amused at one of their own being married-in any way, shape, or form-to an elf.
Tam stood in silence; he didn’t even blink. I think I was witnessing Tam Nathrach caught completely off guard. It was a first.
“Some segments of goblin society consider it binding,” he finally said.
“Binding as in close together, or as in legally binding?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
Tam’s dark eyes were unreadable. “Yes, as in both answers are correct.”
I couldn’t believe my ears.
Tam spoke quickly, but firmly. “But for it to be legally binding, both parties must be in agreement that the bond should be established. Such ceremonies are planned with great care.”
My mouth was hanging open; I managed to get it closed.
Then it dropped open again and words made it out. “It is like a wedding.” My voice sounded small.
“There are similarities,” Tam admitted reluctantly.
I was totally speechless. Tam had never heard me at a loss for words. Today was just chock full of firsts. I felt a giggle bubbling up. I was probably two skips and a jump away from hysteria.
“I have never heard of an accidental umi’atsu bonding,” Tam assured me.
My voice was lined with steel. “Was it an accident?”
“You know it was.”
“Tam, I’m not sure of anything right now.”
“Our bond took hold in that alley,” he said. “What we did under the embassy probably completed the connection. The first was accidental; the second was necessary.”
I remembered the alley all too well. Tam was trying to keep me from being captured by the Khrynsani; he killed one of their shamans with a death curse in Old Goblin. It was the blackest of black magic and Tam wielded it with a master’s touch. The Saghred had responded to Tam-and so had I. We couldn’t have stopped what had happened between us. Under the elven embassy, we had no choice. It had taken nearly all the power both of us had to free those spellsingers and survive, and we’d only been able to do it together.
I knew Tam was a dark mage, and I knew what being a dark mage meant. Part of me just refused to dwell on Tam having ever done any of those things. If you were a mage, you’d been born with magic as a part of you. Through study and hard work, that magic grew and developed into specific talent. I was a seeker, a mediocre one until the Saghred latched on to me. I’d been resisting its power ever since. A dark mage wouldn’t have resisted. For them, power was an addiction, and the more power the mage got, the more they wanted-and the more they were willing to do to get it. Like use objects of power that only asked for a little something in return. Like the Saghred and its soul collection. Feed the rock; get the power. Supernatural creatures offered the same temptations, but demanded different payment.
Some still wanted sacrifices or suffering, others wanted freedom from all restraint, and some, like demons, wanted entry into our world. If you gave them what they wanted, they gave you more power; and if the monster you summoned took a liking to you, they might even teach you a thing or two-things that no mortal had any business knowing.
I’d always told myself that whatever Tam had done while in the goblin court, he’d done it to survive. Maybe. But no one had forced him to be the goblin queen’s magical enforcer. He’d wanted the job and he’d gone after it; and by doing whatever he had to do, he’d stayed at his queen’s right hand for five years. In constantly shifting goblin court politics, five years was an eternity.
When Tam left the goblin court, he’d gotten help for his addiction. He blamed his ambition for his wife’s murder. Call it what you will-intervention, black-magic rehab-Tam had fought his way back from the brink. I wasn’t going to be the cause of his relapse.
“How do we get rid of it?” I asked him point-blank.
Tam looked genuinely puzzled. “Get rid of it?”
“Yes, rid. We’re not the only ones bonded,” I reminded him, keeping my voice as level as it was likely to get anytime soon. “The Saghred’s the glue. You’re a dark mage and all-around magical badass. I’m not. I’m just Raine Benares, a good seeker, a not-so-good sorceress. You say you didn’t do it, and I sure as hell couldn’t do it, so that leaves the rock.”
“I’ve never heard of an umi’atsu bond being successfully broken,” Tam told me.
I didn’t move. “It can’t be done?”
Tam exhaled slowly. “I said successfully broken. It’s only been done a few times that I’m aware of.” He hesitated. “The powers of neither mage survived the process-and in some instances, neither did the mages. Their powers were so entwined that they had literally become a part of each other-they shared their magic like a vital organ.”
I felt a sudden need to sit down.
“You can’t cut those in half,” I dimly heard myself say.
“No, you can’t.”
“But Sarad Nukpana implied it was a progressive bond.”
Tam went utterly still. “You spoke with him?” His dark eyes narrowed dangerously. “He took you inside the Saghred again?”
“No one took me anywhere.” I stopped. “Wait, if you’re in my head, why didn’t you know about my dream?”
“Our bond is still new, so I only know your conscious thoughts, and then only those caused by a strong emotion such as fear. I cannot see into your dreams.”
“So anything I think while asleep or unconscious is still private.”
“Correct.”
That was a relief. I’d rather Tam not know my dreams. Especially since he had starred in some of them before.
I hit the high points of wh
at had happened when I’d lost consciousness after using the Saghred, and the dream conversation with my father. Though with Nukpana in attendance, it qualified more as a nightmare. Then I told him about the Reaper.
“Sarad Nukpana did not lie to you,” Tam said. “An umi’atsu bond is progressive. But since the Saghred’s involved, that progression appears to be moving at a faster rate.”
It was only a spark of hope, but I grabbed it. “So in theory, we could still be separated.”
“A theory I do not want to put to the test-and considering your own situation, neither do you.” His expression darkened. “Especially now.”
“Meaning what?”
“We both have enemies-magically powerful enemies. If severing the bond didn’t kill us, they would. I’ve been accumulating enemies since my time in the goblin court. Many of them would relish the opportunity to have me magically defenseless. I’d be dead within a week.”
I hadn’t thought of that. “With my popularity at an all-time low, I’d be dead within the hour. And Carnades would be at the front of the line.”
“No, Raine,” Tam said solemnly. “That Reaper would be at the front of the line.”
His words chilled me. “I’ve never had a Reaper anywhere near me before, but I knew exactly what it was-and what it was going to do.”
“The Saghred has protected itself for centuries, probably millennia. It knew.”
“And it told me what I had to do,” I said, voice tight. “If it hadn’t told me how… Or if I hadn’t been able to understand…”
“But it did tell you, and you knew what to do.”
I slowly exhaled. “And I’m here, alive.” I looked at Tam for a few silent moments. “I know it’ll be back. When it comes, it’ll bring more with it-and I have no idea how I’m going to survive when that happens.”
“You’ll survive because you won’t be alone. I want you to stay here with me.”
“I won’t endanger-”
He almost smiled. “Raine, endangered is my natural state. I wouldn’t know how to act if at least one person wasn’t trying to kill me.”
“What about Talon?”
“I can protect my son.”