The Bound

by K. A. Linde

  Then, she felt it…like a thread that connected everything together. Her energy was depleting. She wasn’t strong enough for this. Maybe with Avoca to bolster her, she could have done it. But, now, her breathing was labored. Her body ached. A fever burned through her system. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth against the distant sound of swords clashing together.

  Still, she latched on to the thread and began to unravel it. She took one piece and pulled it apart and then the next. The boat rocked, and she fell forward onto her knees. The wood beneath her fingers singed, and she gasped as she realized she had burned the wood.

  Everything was relying on this one moment, and she had to keep going. She picked at the thread until she was trembling and writhing in agony, lying on her back. If she didn’t stop and let it go, she wasn’t just going to burn out her powers; she was going to die.

  But there was so little left. She could do it. She could right this wrong.

  She opened her eyes to try to gain just one more ounce of strength from the world around her. She tried to pull from the great giant ocean, but she had to have the energy for it. She pushed herself to her knees and prayed for this to all end.

  Then, she heard a squelching sound and watched as Dean’s sword slid through Robard’s body. He dropped to the deck, and blood pooled all around him. Dean sank to his knees. She couldn’t tell if it was the rain on his cheeks or hot tears streaming down his face, but what she did know was that Robard was dead.

  For an instant, she reached out toward the blood and the heat and life force calling to her on the deck. She could feel Robard and his body and the power within him. She could take it. So easily. She could use it to fix this catastrophe. She could right the world with that much power.

  She breathed in, feeling the tingling subside in her body. She almost did it. She almost let go. But she knew there were consequences. Robard, no matter how awful, didn’t deserve that. He had called her a dark witch, and if she used his essence to stop this hurricane, even for a good cause, he would be right.

  Forcing aside the lust of that feeling, she concentrated on what she could control, and with her last burst of energy, she pushed her magic out into the world. Her body fell back onto the deck just as their ship wrecked onto land. She went flying, but before she landed, her body gave out, and she fell into darkness.

  Cyrene woke up in a dark room.

  There was a torch burning in a corridor, illuminating a staircase. She felt refreshed but nervous. She almost yelled out for someone, but then she saw who walked inside.

  “Viktor,” she breathed. “You’re late.”

  Then, Cyrene realized where she was. The last thing she remembered was the boat crashing, but here she was, in the past, with Viktor and Serafina. Once again, she was trapped in Serafina’s body.

  “Sera,” he said. He hurried forward and pulled her into his arms. “My apologies. I had to…”

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Margana,” he whispered.

  Serafina cringed away from him. Cyrene couldn’t believe he was bringing up his wife in front of her or that Serafina was meeting him again after he’d gotten married.

  “She went into labor.”

  “She did?” Serafina asked.

  Cyrene could tell her heart was breaking.

  “Yes, but I came anyway. I had to come for you.”

  “A boy or a girl?” she asked.

  “Sera.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “A girl,” Viktor said.

  Serafina closed her eyes and breathed through her mouth. “Did you get everything?” she asked shakily.

  “Yes.”

  “And are you sure about this?” she asked.

  He gripped her hands and kissed them hard on each knuckle. “I want us to be together. You said this would keep us together forever. That’s what I want, Sera. I’ll do anything to have that.”

  “Anything but give up your family.”

  “Anything but give up your magic,” he mirrored.

  She pulled her hands away from him and looked down at what she had been working on. Cyrene saw the ingredients but had no idea what it could be. She worked for a few minutes in silence.

  Finally, she placed a small vial in front of Viktor and one in front of herself.

  “I don’t know if this is going to work.” Her hands were shaking, and it was one of the few times Cyrene had seen Serafina really nervous. “It’s only supposed to work between magical users, but…are you sure you want to go through with this?”

  “Will we be together forever?”

  Serafina nodded, a lump forming in her throat.

  “Then, I’ll do it.”

  Viktor disappeared upstairs, and when he came back down, he was holding a perfectly swaddled little baby girl.

  Serafina’s eyes burned as she looked at her. “You don’t have to. It could be anyone…”

  “You said it’s stronger when it’s flesh and blood and someone close to you. I could think of no one closer,” Viktor said.

  Cyrene had a horrible feeling come over her. She didn’t know what was about to happen, but it couldn’t be good.

  “Okay. We’ll…we’ll begin.” Serafina picked up a book and handed it to Viktor. “You know what to do? It’s different than Doma magic since it’s not inherent within you. We don’t know the consequences.”

  After skimming the page, he swallowed hard. “Blood magic,” he whispered. “I can finally have my own magic, and it will bring us together.”

  “It’s not permanent. It requires sacrifice. A sacrifice that you have to be prepared to harness. Each person has an essence or a fire…and when you take a life, you can wrest that magic from the source,” she said warily. “It’s taboo to even speak of it in the castle.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  And then he withdrew a long knife from his belt.

  Cyrene wanted to turn aside and not witness what was about to happen, but Serafina seemed determined to watch. She was trembling, and tears rolled down her cheeks, but she didn’t turn away. They were in this together.

  As Viktor slid the blade across his baby’s neck, Serafina released a small sob. She covered her mouth with her hand. Blood pooled in Viktor’s hands and onto his feet as the life left his firstborn child. Tears were pouring down his face, but he didn’t stop.

  He just chanted the words, “Life freely given. Power freely taken. Drawn from you. Give thus to me. Cast off the light and plunge into darkness. I surrender.”

  She felt the air shift in the room as Viktor took the blood sacrifice and harnessed control of the power from his child’s life essence.

  Cyrene was sickened and disgusted. How could Viktor Dremylon kill his firstborn? All of this was to harness magic for some kind of ritual. It felt surreal. She couldn’t believe that Serafina had let him do this…encouraged him to do it.

  Viktor placed the baby on the floor between them, and he and Serafina clasped arms.

  Serafina read from the book to begin the ritual, “The Bound ceremony is a sacred act set up to strengthen and combine the magical properties from the originators. Three qualities above all link us together—loyalty, trust, and acceptance.”

  Cyrene gasped as realization hit her. He had harnessed magic so that he and Serafina could be bound together for all of eternity.

  “The circumstances of our binding will test for loyalty, trust, and acceptance between the hosts. Do you wish to be tested for the Bound ceremony?”

  Viktor answered, “Yes.”

  Serafina met his eyes and nodded. “Me, too.”

  “Know that the trials might be difficult, and once you start, there is no going back.”

  There was already no going back. Cyrene could see it in their eyes.

  “Do you accept the circumstances?” Serafina asked.

  Their eyes met again, and they smiled.

  “Yes,” they whispered together.

  They each grabbed a vial of liquid and tipped it back.

>   Viktor and Serafina had been Bound two thousand years ago.

  Cyrene sat straight up and gasped for air. It couldn’t have been real. It couldn’t have been. That had never happened. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just a dream.

  “Cyrene!” Dean cried next to her. “You’re alive.”

  She crashed back down into what she realized was sand. The skies were dark, but the rain had stopped, at least for the moment. She worried they were in the eye of the storm and that if they left this spot, everything would start up all over again.

  “Creator,” she breathed. “What happened?”

  “We’re shipwrecked. The storm crashed us into some rocks, and then we landed on this island.” He threw his arms up in defeat. “You’ve been out for hours. I thought you were…dead.”

  “How did we get on the island? Where is the rest of the crew?” Cyrene asked.

  Dean’s face looked bleak. “We were sinking. I grabbed you and found something to paddle with. I swam us onto shore. I haven’t seen anyone else. They might still be out there.”

  “And Robard?” Cyrene asked.

  She couldn’t believe what had really happened. Dean couldn’t have thrust his sword through Robard’s chest. His blood couldn’t have called to her to use it to stop the hurricane. Like Viktor had used it to harness blood magic from his firstborn child. None of that was real.

  “He’s…” Dean’s voice cracked, and he looked away. He buried his head in his hands. “Gone. I’ve known him my whole life, and now, he’s gone. Dead.”

  She reached out and touched his leg. “He was trying to kill you.”

  “We’ve fought thousands of times. I could have stopped him. I could have made him surrender.”

  “He would never have surrendered.”

  Dean looked away. “I don’t…I don’t want to talk about it. We need to find shelter for the night, and in the morning, we’ll find a way to get off this island.”

  They scouted out a place in the nearby trees. Cyrene was weak and could barely move. Dean had to carry her halfway, and he didn’t look too good himself. She knew that they needed to eat something to replenish their energy. But they couldn’t find much more than a coconut in the dark. It would have to do until morning.

  Cyrene rested back against Dean’s chest and closed her eyes. She was beyond exhausted. The couple of hours that she had slept while blacked out wasn’t enough with the amount of energy she had used. She didn’t even want to think about trying her magic right now. Her whole body was sensitive. She doubted it would be a good idea.

  Closing her eyes, she tried to use Dean’s warmth to chase away the demons. Sleep quickly took her, but soon enough, she awoke, screaming at the top of her lungs. Blood was everywhere. On her eyelids and on her hands and in her hair. She clawed at her face, trying to get rid of it.

  Dean grabbed at her hands. “Cyrene, calm down. You’re safe.” He pulled her to him. “You’re safe.”

  She lay against him until she stopped shaking. By that time, the sun was already on the horizon.

  “Come on,” Dean said. “Let’s go see if we can find a way off this island.”

  He helped Cyrene to her feet, and they slowly trudged back through the woods and out onto the beach. She was starving, and her stomach grumbled loudly. Her head also hurt, which likely meant that she was dehydrated. If she had a container, she could purify the salt water to drink. Matilde and Vera had taught her how to do it. But she wasn’t equipped while stranded like this.

  They walked around the island until her thirst got the better of her, and she pitched forward into the sand.

  “Hey,” he said, reaching for her, “why don’t you go back to the site of the wreck? I’ll keep looking. Do you know how to build a fire? We could try a smoke signal.”

  “Yes,” she said weakly. Thank the Creator she had learned how to make a fire in the Hidden Forest at the beginning of this journey because fire was not something she could control magically…if she could even use her magic right now. “I can do that.”

  By the time Dean returned, she had a huge bonfire in the middle of the beach, outside of where they had shipwrecked. Under normal circumstances, she might have been frightened about the enormity of the fire in front of her but not today. She had started and hopefully ended a hurricane all in one day. She was pretty sure that she could douse a fire if she wanted to.

  Dean had some local vegetation for them to eat, and then they waited. It felt like hours passed while they just sat there on the beach and roasted by the fire. She didn’t know what they would do if no one found them. Nothing else was in sight of the island they were on, and the island itself was tiny and deserted. She didn’t know how much food was on it, and Dean had only found a small spring for water. Not much to go on.

  Cyrene retreated to the comfort of the tree line when she felt like she was losing more water than she was bringing in. So much for a romantic post-engagement excursion. Nothing like being marooned on a desert island.

  She splashed some water on her face from the spring and then drank two handfuls. She immediately felt refreshed, but her body still hurt all over. Whatever she had done last night hadn’t been her best idea. She was starting to think that control was less about knowing how to use her magic and more about being able to separate her emotions from the use of her powers.

  At this rate, she wouldn’t have reason to use them again.

  “Cyrene!” Dean called. “Cyrene! Come down here!”

  She dashed back down through the trees and out onto the beach. She sank to her knees in the sand when she saw what was out on the water. A boat. A real boat. She almost cried with relief.

  She ran over to Dean where he was jumping up and down and waving his hands.

  “Over here!” he yelled. “We’re right here!”

  The ship came to a halt a short distance from the island and then dropped a tender with a small crew inside. They rowed toward shore. Dean ran out into the water until he was knee deep, and Cyrene followed.

  As the boat approached, Cyrene sighed with relief. Two of Dean’s men, Faylon and Clym, were in the boat. She was surprised that Darmian wasn’t with them. They were a matched set and always had been since she had met them in the Aurumian forest.

  “We’re so glad to see you,” Dean said to his friends.

  They clasped his forearms and pulled him on board.

  “You have no idea how happy we are to see you, Your Highness,” Faylon said.

  “We’ve been searching ever since the storm passed through,” Clym told him.

  Dean reached for Cyrene and hoisted her out of the water. Faylon and Clym exchanged a look before turning around and making their way to the ship.

  “What happened out here?” Faylon asked.

  “We got caught in the storm and were shipwrecked. Lost the whole crew…and Robard,” Dean said softly. “We barely survived.”

  “Thank the Creator you did,” Clym said.

  “Yes. Thank the Creator,” Cyrene whispered.

  They reached the boat, and Faylon and Clym climbed the ladder to get back on board. Dean offered Cyrene to go up next, and then he followed up behind her. As soon as they were on board, Dean seemed to relax.

  “Let’s go home,” Dean said with an easy smile.

  “I apologize, Your Majesty,” Faylon said. “But you’re not going to like this.”

  “Like what?”

  Clym reached out and grabbed Cyrene.

  “Hey! Unhand me!” she yelled.

  Dean jumped forward, but Faylon was there, and together, he and Clym wrenched Cyrene’s arms behind her back.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dean demanded. “That is my betrothed. You’re harming a future Princess of Eleysia.”

  Faylon cleared his throat. “We have orders to arrest Affiliate Cyrene on sight.”

  “You what?” Cyrene cried.

  “Explain yourself. Under whose orders?” Dean demanded.

  “By orders of He
r Majesty, Queen Brigette,” Faylon announced.

  Dean stumbled backward a step at the name.

  “Queen…Brigette,” Dean said, his body caving in at the title.

  “For conspiracy to murder Queen Cassia and King Tomas.”

  “I didn’t conspire to kill anyone!” Cyrene cried for what felt like the hundredth time.

  Dean had said the same thing over and over to his men, but ultimately, their orders had come from the Queen. So, there was nothing to be done about it until they got back to the capital.

  Faylon and Clym had taken her below deck and chained her to a thick wooden bed. There was no way that she could get away. Not that she was going to try since she hadn’t done anything wrong. She had no idea why she was even being accused, and Faylon and Clym wouldn’t speak about it in front of her. They’d just shoved her into the room, chained her to the bed, and locked the door.

  The worst part about the whole thing was that she couldn’t be up there with Dean while he dealt with the deaths of his parents. No, not the deaths. The murder of his parents.

  She couldn’t imagine what that must feel like. And to have to go through it alone on top of the death of one of his oldest friends. Even if he had eleven sisters to mourn with…none of them were here now. But she was, and she wished with everything that she could be up on deck with him right now.

  Cyrene wasn’t sure how much time had passed while she was stuck below deck when she felt the boat slow and then finally stop.

  Faylon came to collect her. “Don’t try anything,” he warned her.

  She held her arms out where they were chained in front of her. “These don’t exactly give me the opportunity,” she sneered.

  “Just don’t do it.”

  “I didn’t do anything. I was with Dean this entire time. I have a solid alibi for this. I’ve been here for months. Why would I conspire to kill the Queen and King?” she asked him.

  “I’m just following orders, and you should, too.”

  He chained her hands behind her back and then ordered her to go above deck. She was placed into a small boat. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. She had done nothing wrong.