Oathbound (The Legendborn Cycle #3)

Chapter 2

2

TWENTY-FOUR HOURS

AFTER brIANA MATTHEWS DISAPPEARED

William

THE NORTHERN CHAPTER’S Keep, with its isolation from nearby Charlottesville and its looming dark gray Gothic architecture, has always seemed unnecessarily intimidating to me. Perhaps it is my quiet, small-town, Southern sensibilities.

It certainly doesn’t help that the Keep has its own prison.

Nick is being held there, and even though he can’t receive visitors, I have come to lay eyes on his chosen lodgings.

The prison tower is a tall, narrow, four-sided structure sitting apart from the main two-story residential building. The single wooden door is dark brown with black hardware and a heavy metal lock. At least this prison looks like what it is, I think. Not like the Institute, where the Regents held me and Bree captive. That looked like a modern business conference center. Sterile, bright, and clean but torturous all the same.

I wish that I was not watching yet another friend be confined by the same Order we were born into serving. I wish that wherever Bree is now, she’s comfortable. What has it come to that I can imagine our enemies treating our king better than our leadership would?

An extra ward surrounds the tower. When I press my hand against the magic, it lights up, blue-white and electric… then dread fills my belly, deep and thick and heavy. Misery roils like magma behind my chest. I retract my hand immediately—and the ward goes quiet and invisible once again.

This is an affective ward. Selwyn doesn’t cast them at our chapter, but I know why the Northern Chapter’s Merlin does.

These wards are not cast for barrier protection or used as a simple deterrent, but as a severe punishment to anyone—human or demon—who manages to touch its surface.

The Southern Chapter is the oldest home of the Order. It was designed to house the Line of Arthur, which means it is protected not only by the Kingsmage but by the Scion of Gawain, too. Other chapters can’t afford for their prisoners to escape or for their members to get injured unexpectedly.

Up here, they must heal the long way… or not at all.

It is not fair for me to judge the tactics of our fellow Table members, especially when those tactics have been employed, in part, because I am not present in their ranks. But I find judgment in my heart anyway.

Even now, the ward leaves my fingertips stinging in pain. Touching it only for a second left a sharp, layered aftertaste in my mouth—the coppery taste of fear and the bitterness of bile and torment.

How many innocents have touched this ward by accident? How many live safe within these walls, but do so in fear?

My silent inquiries are cut short when I hear a familiar voice. “William!”

Samira Miller and Risa, the dark-haired Merlin of the Keep, walk toward me. Samira waves and I wave back. Both, I notice, take a wide berth around Risa’s affective ward.

Samira, like many Lieges, wears tactical gear. Today she bears a Bedivere pin on her collar. “Liege Miller. Merlin Takada.”

“Call me Samira, Will.” Samira’s easy smile broadens across her warm brown face.

Every time I see her or any Liege up close, I am taken aback at the contrast between their faces and bodies and their prematurely gray hair. The visible cost of wielding Legendborn powers—and a reminder that the Abatement is waiting for them.

“Scion Sitterson.” Risa’s low voice is polite. She is muscled, thin, and dressed in typical Merlin black and silver. She looks toward the tower, then back to me. “Scion Davis can’t receive visitors.”

“I know. I wouldn’t expect such a kindness when imprisonment is so objectively inhumane.” I pause, making sure my gaze locks on hers before I continue. “I merely came to see where he was being held.”

Risa’s eyes narrow. “You needn’t worry about Scion Davis. We are treating him well, with respect and civility—”

“Worry how?” I inquire.

She frowns, her dark brows drawing tight. “I admit my wards around the Keep were compromised by the teleporting demon that took both former Kingsmage Kane and Crown Scion Matthews, but I’ve reinforced them. The affective wards around the tower alone are now two layers deep and three times as painful; I laced the first one with doubt and the next with terror. Whoever this mysterious demon is, I don’t think he could break through to get Scion Davis in the night—”

Samira steps in. “I think Scion Sitterson knows that Scion Davis is physically safe, Merlin Takada. He is not questioning your abilities. The Line of Gawain are healers, so the nature of their concerns are often”—she pauses, smiling in my direction—“multifaceted.”

It is a gracious clarification on my behalf, and yet it rubs me the wrong way. We don’t know what this mysterious demon can do. Any worries I have are more than merited. And Nick’s imprisonment is inhumane no matter what.

“I see,” Risa says.

Samira crosses her arms. “While there have been no more signs of this demon, there have been more sightings of Gate openings. Isel attacks on humans are picking up. The most recent sightings are in Georgia. You may think about taking some of your own chapter back home, Will.”

“We aren’t leaving before Nick’s curia,” I say sharply. “Out of the question. And what if Bree comes back? Or Sel? We should be here in case they return.”

“It’s been twenty-four hours.…”

“And every Legendborn still has their powers,” I counter, flashing a gauntlet onto my forearm with a squeeze of my fist. I release it just as quickly. “Bree’s still alive. She could escape. Make her way back here.”

“With respect, Scion Sitterson, I doubt any demon that’s strong enough to break past my wards would also be weak enough to let someone as untrained as the Crown Scion escape,” Risa says with a helpless shrug.

“With respect, Merlin Takada, you don’t know Bree Matthews,” I counter bitingly.

“Okay, okay, let’s take a beat here.…” Samira holds up both her hands to calm us. “Let me speak to Scion Sitterson alone, please. Risa, see if you can get an ETA on the arrival of the Mageguard. We need to keep prepping for the Regents’ arrival, even if we are shorthanded.”

Risa bristles. “Of course, Liege Miller. I need to patrol the perimeter as well.” She checks the sun’s position in the sky. “Mageguard Douglas will just be getting off the night shift.”

“Good idea,” Samira says smoothly. Risa nods to her and runs off into the distance, her body a dark blur.

“Forgive her; she is young,” Samira murmurs once she is out of earshot. “She was posted to the second most important chapter in the Order at sixteen.”

“We’re all young , Samira,” I say with a sigh. “Even you. But Merlins grow up faster than even Legendborn, and cambions always seem their age and many others. Eternal, even in their youth.”

“Hard to imagine that such a sweet girl like Risa can make such devastating enchantments,” Samira murmurs as she comes to stand beside me, gesturing toward the hidden ward. “I expect the wards here and in Georgia to be more severe, but that doesn’t mean I’m ever ready for the hit when I accidentally glance off one. Even as a young Squire, I hated passing nearby. We had a Page without the Sight fall into an affective once. She never really recovered.”

“They’re indiscriminate.” I grimace, my stomach twisting. “I can’t condone these.”

“There’s a lot going on around here that any reasonable person would not condone.” She nods toward the way that Risa has disappeared. “Nice show of temper just then, by the way. If I didn’t know you, I’d almost believe you really are that irritated with Risa. Made it easy for me to get rid of her.”

“I appreciate the assist,” I say. “As for the temper, well, perhaps Selwyn has rubbed off on me.”

“A healer with a snarky streak? Fantastic.” She laughs and turns to face me, arms crossed over her chest. “Gillian said you want to speak with me alone?”

“I do.” I can’t help but smile at the glint of mischief in her dark brown eyes. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Scion Sitterson,” Samira drawls. “This ‘favor’ already sounds like something ill advised, against the rules, and potentially dangerous.”

“All three, I’m afraid.”

Samira grins. “What do you need?”