33. Chapter 33
Chapter thirty-three
Orion’s steely eyes pierced through the slit in the wrap that covered his face. Cyrus had gotten used to seeing him uncovered—seeing him not as an assassin.
Things felt more serious now.
As they should.
Orion handed him another set of small blades that Cyrus slipped into the chevron concealments of his vest. He carried more weapons on his person than he ever had before, but aside from the short sword across his back, they were all completely hidden.
Essandra watched him silently.
Kord and Everan— not silently.
“Look, I get that it will be cleaner and faster with just two people,” Kord argued, “but things are going to go to shit after you make your move, and you’re going to need us.”
“You’re going to need help getting away,” Everan added.
“That’s why Orion’s with me,” Cyrus countered. Orion would actually be there to get him in , to help him get as close to the Shadow King as possible. Cyrus wasn’t particularly concerned with the getting away part.
“We can be on standby, just a short way away,” Kord said.
“No.”
Kord’s lips thinned. “I don’t get what the issue is. If we’re not needed, then we’re not needed, but if something goes wrong—”
“I said no ,” Cyrus repeated firmly. It wasn’t that he didn’t think he’d need their help, but if something happened to him, which was likely, they wouldn’t be able to get back through the portal.
They wouldn’t be able to get home. Worse—he’d get them killed with him.
But Orion could get out, and he could find his way back.
Cyrus looked at Essandra, who surprisingly hadn’t argued with him all morning since he’d shared he wanted them to stay behind. “I think we’re ready,” he said.
She stepped to him. “You need to be the one to create the tether with Orion so you can break it on the other side,” she told him.
Cyrus reached to pull a blade.
“I’ll get my own blood, thank you very much,” Orion said quickly, stopping him. “I’ve seen how you cut yourself.” He flicked his blade, and a bead of blood swelled from the faintest scratch on his forearm. Cyrus swiped it with his thumb and brought it to his lips.
“I know I’ve said this before,” Orion told him, “but that’s disgusting.”
Cyrus almost smiled as he spoke the words that bonded them. There were plenty of other things he could think of that were more disgusting than blood.
“Now drink this,” Essandra said as she put a small cup in his hand. Something mixed in wine.
Cyrus swallowed it down. “What’s in that?”
“My blood,” she answered, then whispered the words of the tether.
He jerked back. “What are you doing?” She wasn’t coming with him through the portal.
“I have a feeling you’re going to make some very poor decisions. Hopefully now you’ll make better ones.”
Heat rose across his skin. She’d bonded her fate to his. “Break it,” he demanded.
“No.”
He’d do it himself. Cyrus grabbed hold of her and hissed out the spell. Then he flipped a small blade from his vest and nicked it across the back of his hand to check.
Orion snarled as he grabbed his own hand. “Fuck the gods, Cyrus!”
Cyrus glanced down to Essandra’s hand, which bore the same nick he’d just given himself. He gripped her tighter as he spat out the spell once more.
“How many times are you going to cut me?” she snapped just before he tested the knife against his skin a second time. “You know it won’t work. Only the maker of the tether can break it.”
“Then break it!” he demanded.
But again, she shook her head. “No.”
He bared his teeth as his voice dropped to a whisper. “Why are you doing this? You’d take from me an opportunity to kill the Shadow King?”
“If it kills you too, then it’s not an opportunity.”
His hold softened, but he still held on to her. “Essandra,” he pleaded. “I won’t be able to do it like this. You have to break it.”
“I won’t,” she said firmly, then she pushed him through the portal.