Ritual Ground
Lio’s protective instincts roared,and he stepped in front of Cassia. For once, he didn’t understand what she was doing with her magic. He only knew he would defend his Grace until her casting was complete. Even against someone they loved.
Mak and Lyros spread out to Lio’s left and right. Knight had Cassia’s back, whining in confusion but standing firm by his lady.
Cassia’s power rushed through Lio’s senses. He wished it would drown out the disappointment in Rudhira’s words.
“Let me take you home,” their Ritual father said.
“Home?” Lio didn’t think before he spoke. His anger pushed the words out of him. “What home do we have anymore?”
“We want you safe. That’s what matters now.” There was so much grief in Rudhira’s voice.
Lio didn’t want that grief. That love. Anger would have been easier to fight.
“My Grace isn’t safe in a prison cell!” he shouted.
“Think of Zoe and your parents. I don’t need to tell you how afraid they are for you.”
How could Rudhira twist the knife like this? Of course Lio knew what this was doing to their family. “What do you expect Zoe to do if we return? Come to play with Cassia—where? Under house arrest? In exile?”
“Is abandoning her to go errant any better? If you come back with me, at least she’ll get to see you again.”
“We didn’t abandon her!”
The Lustra magic pounded in Lio’s ears, and Rudhira’s condemnation hammered on. “Running is always easier. Do the brave thing and face the consequences of your actions.”
“None of us are cowards!” Mak shot back. “I don’t see anyone else facing off with the Collector to save us all from whatever is behind the doors. Don’t you understand that’s more important right now?”
“More important than the law you swore to uphold?” Rudhira asked. “More important than your mother’s honor? It was so hard for her to explain your actions to the Queens. And think of the example you’re setting for Bosko. Is this the kind of warrior you want him to grow up to be?”
Mak faltered.
“I spoke to your father,” Rudhira went on.
“I’m not interested in his opinion right now,” Mak snarled.
“Argyros misses you. He just got Nike back. He can’t bear to lose you.”
“I said I don’t want to hear it!”
“He believed in the person you could become. Don’t prove him wrong.”
“That’s enough,” Lyros cut in.
Rudhira turned to him. “You should know that your parents have intervened on your behalf. They understand you were drawn into this out of love for Mak. It would mean a dishonorable discharge from the Stand, but you could avoid arrest. They’ll help you move forward in a different service.”
Mak looked at his Grace. “There’s still a way out for you. You know all that matters to me is what’s best for you.”
Lyros let out a bitter laugh. “Lose my speires and spend eternity accepting pity commissions from my firstblood parents’ patrons? Not on your life or mine.”
Lio took a step forward, Final Word in his hands, an ocean of magic at his fingertips.
There was so much pain in Rudhira’s eyes. “Lio, please don’t make this harder for me.”
“I won’t let you arrest a single one of us,” Lio said.
Cassia”s magic had betrayedthem again. But she would not let anyone, Hesperine, mortal, or undead stop her from healing the wound Kallikrates had dealt her and the Lustra here.
She reached deeper into the letting site. And found herself. Her dual power was filling the emptiness the Collector had left behind. The Lustra was drinking down her plant magic as her blood magic washed over its wounds.
With a thought, she raised a barrier of black roses between her and Rudhira, closing Mak and Lyros, Lio and Knight in her protection. Magic coursed from her immortal veins down into the land where her power had been born.
The letting site filled, and at last it overflowed back into her. The Lustra’s power, natural and whole, slammed through her heart. With a cry of victory, she pulled her dagger out of the ground and got to her feet.
On the other side of her roses, there was a nova of Hesperine power. Her prince.
“We have to go before he finds a way in,” Lyros called out.
A powerful instinct held Cassia where she stood. This place was her ritual ground now.
“We’re not leaving empty-handed.” She closed her eyes.
She focused on what Miranda’s aura felt like and conveyed that impression to the Lustra. It stirred, snapping. It knew Miranda, the predator who had hurt them. Smells, sounds, and finally images stirred within Cassia.
Miranda sat helpless, bound to the wall of the sickroom by thorns. Her undead crow familiar ran its beak through her hair, its hollow, silent chest somehow filled with concern for her.
The door opened. In walked the farmer Miranda had healed, his wife at his side. The two villagers stood over their beloved lady. The crow fled, cowering in the farthest corner of the room.
“You failed me,” the farmer said in the voice of Kallikrates.
Miranda’s fear told the Lustra she was prey now. But she looked the Collector in the eye. “Yes, Master. I failed you.”
“You know I will not tolerate excuses. You should have been prepared for any unexpected resistance from Cassia and Deukalion.”
“I’ve always known I am imperfect. That’s why I gave myself to you, Master. I am yours to shape into your perfect playing piece.”
The farmer took Miranda’s face in a bruising grip. “I will only tolerate so many mistakes before I deem a piece unviable and destroy it.”
She didn’t flinch. “No matter how many times you destroy me, Master, I will survive for you.”
The farmer released her. His wife ran her hand over Miranda’s head with the tenderness of a mother. Kallikrates’s voice came from her mouth, too. “Miranda. My vicious girl. You understand the rules of the game so well.”
“You need the survivors, Master. Nothing else matters. I accept your punishment, in the name of the game.”
The farmwife kept stroking Miranda’s hair. “You know what this means for your people. Mederi will be without my protection until your punishment is complete.”
The slightest tremble went through Miranda. “Yes, Master. I know I must earn back your favor for them.”
“And for yourself.” The farmer took a step closer, looming over Miranda. “I will not come to you until you correct your mistake.”
Her wild panic stoked the Lustra’s hunger. The vines tightened on her arms.
The farmwife stepped back, her expression sad, and stood behind her husband. His face was stern. Kallikrates spoke through both the villagers in unison.
“This is your punishment. You must defeat Cassia and Deukalion on your own. Collect the bounty for them before my other Overseers, and you will receive my forgiveness.”
“I will not disappoint you this time, Master,” Miranda promised him.
Fire danced along the thorn vines, turning them to ash. Miranda fell to the floor in a heap, hissing, her arms riddled with burns.
The farmers were gone. The room seemed like a tomb.
Miranda’s hands went to her chest, clutching at her bloodstained breastplate. She began to pant. Then she grasped her head in both hands and let out a pitiful wail.
“Master. I can’t hear you. Master!”
She cried out for him until she was hoarse, but no voice filled the room but her own. Her crow returned to her side, hopping fretfully to and fro by her crumpled form.
Finally the sound of blades clashing made her look through the broken wall. Out in the garden, Hesperines errant and Gift Collectors were locked in battle.
“Survive,” she whispered.
Miranda dragged herself to her feet, and her crow took flight in her wake. Leaving her fellow Overseers to die on the Hesperine prince’s sword, she fled through the door that led deeper into the castle.
Magic from the letting site nipped at her heels with every pounding step she took through Castra Paradum. But the thorn vines, weakened by the Lustra’s wounds, could not catch her. Miranda slipped through servants’ corridors and down narrow stairways, then crawled through a drainage ditch to a grate that was already loosened. The Lustra’s deep roots marked her passage, even as she made it beyond the walls.
The Lustra was everywhere, and she was prey now.
The images faded from Cassia’s mind’s eye. She saw her roses in front of her and heard Thorn’s blade hacking at vines.
Lio held her shoulders, searching her gaze. “Is your spell complete?”
She cast her power back into the ground. “Let’s go.”
The rose vines fell an instant before they stepped. The last thing she saw was Rudhira’s face, haggard with regret.
Lio’s boots sank intothe mud in the bailey. Once again, no ambush was waiting for them outside the tower, but they hurried up the steps nonetheless.
The door banged shut behind them, closing them back in the safety of Ebah’s spell. But he could still hear Rudhira’s words echoing in his head.
Lyros kicked a pile of hay. “We can’t risk going back for the horses.”
Mak looked at his usually-composed Grace with furrowed brows.
“My gardening satchel was still on my saddle,” Cassia murmured.
Somehow, that small loss made Lio angrier than anything else. He know how vulnerable she felt without her satchel, for it had been her survival kit during many ordeals. Now it held her few mementos from Orthros. She had lost what was let of home.
“Are all of you in one piece?” She was still shaking, her aura popping with little flares of residual magic. Fresh blood slipped down her arms.
Lio wanted to pick her up and hold her, but felt that was somehow inappropriate when he had just watched her make a stand so powerfully. He settled for gathering her close to him. “Let me see to your arms.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” she said.
“I’m fine, my Grace.” Physically, in any case. Lio didn’t know how long it would take his mind and heart to recover from that encounter with their Ritual father.
“Not a scratch on us, either.” Mak waved them away. “Go get patched up, all right?”
Cassia hesitated, then nodded. She let Lio lead her toward the stairs. Mak pulled out the flask of ora that Tendo had sent with them, offering it to Lyros.
“Still not strong enough for Hesperines,” Lyros muttered, but he downed a swig in any case.
Lio took Cassia up to the dining hall and sat her in a chair at the hearth. Knight sank down by the fire’s warmth as if he were a tired, relieved old dog. Lio gave him a comforting pat before kneeling on the floor in front of Cassia.
He turned her hands over, palms up. The veins on the inside of her arms were split open and healing sluggishly. How had her magic done this to her?
There would be time to ask for an explanation later. Right now, she needed his care. He lowered his mouth to her skin and gently laved at her left wrist, where the bleeding was heaviest.
He wasn’t prepared for the kick of Lustra magic in her blood. Her power thrummed through him. The sensation drove all thoughts of Paradum out of his mind for a blessed moment.
Lio raised his head, licking his lips, to look at his Grace in wonder. Her hair was tousled, and there was a streak of dirt across her face. She looked back at him, not with her kingdom-destroying look, but a kingdom-claiming one.
“Your power intoxicates me,” he whispered, then glided his tongue up the inside of her arm.
She stroked his head. “I felt so much power tonight.”
Did you like it?he asked in her mind, unwilling to take his mouth away from the delicate trail of magic bleeding from her right wrist.
Yes.
Your confidence tastes so good, Cassia. He returned to her left wrist, sucking a little at the gradually healing wound.
You can still taste my spell? she asked.
Yes. Goddess, he had to focus. He was supposed to be healing her, not indulging himself.
But she held him to her vein. Under his tongue, the muscles in her wrist tightened. She was still holding her dagger in that hand, he realized.
Magic traveled down her arm, and the flavor of her power bloomed stronger in her blood. He groaned, opening his mouth wider on her wrist.
“Go ahead.” Her voice was husky. “Enjoy it.”
He couldn’t resist. He reopened the Lustra’s wound with his fangs and sucked.
Controlled waves of her magic surged through her blood. Her control tasted as good as her power. His head spun in the arcane currents, and pleasure tingled over his skin.
He wrenched his mouth back before he lost all vestige of his own self-control. Another sip, and he would be too tempted to feast on her in this chair. She gazed down at him with dilated eyes, her fangs out.
He smiled at her. “Does using so much power make you hungry, My Queen?”
Her chest rose and fell with a rapid breath. “It also makes you hungry for me, doesn’t it?”
“You know it does.” He rose up to nuzzle her neck, taking in her scent. “The fact that you’re so powerful arouses me.”
Her awareness of her power over him was a heady musk in her aura. “Take me upstairs.”
When he stepped them, her eyes widened, and she clutched the arm of the chair he had brought up to the room with them.
“Feast on me from your throne,” he said.
She slid both her hands into his hair and tilted his head back. Her lips met his throat, soft and rough at the same time. She bit him once, and the pleasure of it was still stinging when she withdrew and slid up his vein to bite him again.
He reached down and yanked his trousers open for her. “Let me feed you on my knees.”
She moaned and scooted closer to him. Her gripped her knees and spread her legs. They came together hard and fast, her core already slippery with need. She locked her legs around him, canting her hips with a hungry growl.
He clamped his hands on the arms of the chair. Flexing his back and hips, he gave himself up to her. She held his head where she wanted him while she ravaged his throat, gripping his body deep inside hers.
She wrapped her other arm around him, and he felt her dagger hilt press into his lower back. Another wave of her magic crested up from the letting site beneath the tower, then rolled through his body with exquisite intention.
Do you like that, my Grace? she asked.
His jaw dropped, and he arched into her harder. Her satisfaction hummed through their Union.
She dragged another wave through him, turning her growing mastery of her power into a new method for pleasuring him. If she kept this up, he would spend himself like a newblood.
It’s only fair, she murmured in his thoughts. You can make me climax with one touch of your thelemancy.
The third stroke of her power undid him. He shouted a curse at the ceiling before words deserted him, and his magic and body spilled for her. He was free again, suspended on the currents of her power without need for control.
When he was spent, his head fell to rest on her shoulder. He rested there for a blissful moment, numb to anything beyond her embrace. She licked her marks on his throat tenderly, her magic lapping at the edges of their bond. He didn’t move, allowing himself his Grace’s care.
She pressed her face against his healed neck. Thank you for loving my power.
Your magic is one of the most beautiful things about you. Will you explain the spell you cast tonight?
Yes. I need your opinion.
He eased back, disentangling himself from her. But when she paused to lick his blood off her fingers, his body warmed for another round. With her robes still rucked up around her waist and her knees splayed, he thought about having the next course of their meal with his mouth between her legs.
He gave his head a shake and tried to gather his thoughts. They were out of time to drown their sorrows.
“More later.” Her voice was a sultry promise.
He cast a cleaning spell over them both, and they resettled in the chair with her on his lap. “There was a massive power exchange between you and the letting site. It was one of the most amazing arcane phenomena I’ve ever witnessed.”
She kissed his lips. “I needed to hear that, my beloved scrollworm.”
“I will never stop reminding you how wonderful your magic is.”
Her gaze fell. “Rudhira looked at me like I was a threat.”
Lio searched for words of comfort where there were few. “I think that look was directed at all of us.”
“But it was my roses that he attacked. I did something good tonight. Why couldn’t he see that?”
“I can see it, Cassia. Tell me everything you did.”
She turned her dagger over in her hands. “Lio, I…healed the letting site.”
“You what?” he breathed. “You restored it to what it was before Kallikrates harmed you both?”
She shook her head, her eyes lighting up. “Something better. Now it’s like our letting site in Orthros. It has my blood magic in it, too. Do you realize what this means?”
“Goddess bless.” The implications whirled through his mind, the beginnings of countless theories.
“I can do more than channel magic from the Lustra,” she said. “I can channel my power into it. I don’t know if all Silvicultrixes could do that…or if it might be some unique effect of my dual magic…but don’t you think the possibilities are astonishing?”
“Yes. You’re incredible.”
A ghost of a smile touched her face. “If my Gift can somehow share Hesperine restoration with the Lustra itself, imagine what I could achieve.”
He held her gaze. “If you can heal yourself and a letting site, then I have no doubt you can heal your missing affinities, too. You can reclaim your other magics.”
The spark of joy behind her eyes faded. “I don’t need those for what I want to do. I could undo so much of Kallikrates’s harm with only my dual magic. Perhaps I could repair the fallen door and close it again so he’ll never get to what the portals are guarding.”
Lio bit his tongue about her lost magic. He didn’t have the heart to debate that with her right now, although that negotiation was still far from over.
“You’re right,” he said for now. “We left Paradum with a greater discovery, even if we lost Miranda’s trail.”
“We didn’t lose it. The Lustra showed me how to find her.”