Chapter 43
“…and then we crested the hill and there he was, alive and well.”
The first his parents were hearing the tale, but Brand had lost count of how many times he’d recounted those dreadful few days at Glynmor—and it still didn’t make any more sense than it had while they’d lived it.
“There’s something we’re missing.” His father stood at one of the large windows in his private study, looking out over the city.
Araxis narrowed his eyes on Luna. “Something is often being missed.”
He’d said little else since arriving and demanding to know why he was looking at an apparition. After a gaping, awkward silence, his mother had diverted everyone’s attention towards relaxing.
So, here they were, posted up on heavy leather lounges with tea and tiny bites of food on the sideboards, pretending like it was any other day.
Hard to do when Araxis was hovering in a corner, utterly still. Quiet in a way that had little to do with noise as he glared holes into the side of Luna’s head. Brand could almost believe his brother was seeing straight through her to the secrets inside.
It made him fucking furious.
“I propose we leave the imposter conundrum alone for a moment.” His mother flitted around the room, refilling cups and plates. “We have documents from both Caius and the Chieftains, and Lyriat to go over that may help. In the meantime, I want to hear more about this dreadbeast.”
Entirely unnecessary for her to sound so excited by the prospect.
Brand sighed. “It’s dead. What more is there to say?”
She gave him an arch look. “My darling, there is always more to say.”
“You gave us no real details.” Amun sat on the settee across from them, legs crossed, one arm laid along the seat back. “What realm did it seem most closely related to? Were any of its features something else you’re familiar with? Think deeper, brothers.”
“It was fucking hideous. Looked like someone tacked spiders legs onto a glob of fucking snot. Tasted like someone shat on a rotting carcass and then dipped it in vomit.” Mag managed to look bored as he painted that graphic picture.
“Oh, and it was poisonous. Toxic? Venomous? I don’t know the damned difference.
Pet tried to eat it, it was foul as fucking anything, and I almost died.
” He shrugged as gasps sounded from both of their parents. “There really isn’t much else to it.”
Fionerys ran over to him, clenching his cheeks between her small hands. “Sounds like there’s plenty blimmin’ more to it, since no one said anything about almost dying!”
Brand couldn’t help a smile. “Thad’s maybe the only one who was never on the Veil’s doorstep at any point.” He squeezed Luna’s knee, letting his gratitude shine in the bond. “It worked out in the end.”
His mother’s gaze snapped up to him. “And you never thought to mention this in a letter, or in the last couple of hours we’ve been chatting, or the fucking second you were in my presence?!”
“Mam.” Mag’s voice was gentle as he pried her clawed fingers from his face, little bits of frost stuck in the hairs of his beard. “We are well. Brand’s right, thanks to Lunara there.”
All eyes went to Luna, a blush stealing over her cheeks.
“Shite, witchling. Now that I really think about it, you’re the only reason we’re sitting here instead of traipsing around the Veil, and not just because of the healing.”
His father’s eyes bored into him and Mag, but Brand was having trouble focusing on anything other than Luna’s confusion slamming down the bond.
Her brows dropped, a crease cutting between them. “What are you talking about?”
“The talons. You’re how I got the idea to use them.”
“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Brand said, pressing two fingers into his temple.
“Indeed.” Alwyn rounded a sofa and dragged their mother to it, urging her to sit down beside him. “Perhaps we should start again. This time, I want to hear every last, tiny, seemingly insignificant detail from the time you sent Baldrir to the Keep at Fanghold, to this exact moment.”
“No, no.” Vann waved his hand in encouragement. “I want to know how Luna saved three Imperials trained in warfare from the day they’d been born, and why she doesn’t even know she did it.”
Another flip of his heart, her confusion bleeding into something else.
Mag laughed, ignoring their father’s request. “It was epic. I’m lying there, losing my mind and skewered all the way through from two different directions. Blood everywhere.”
His mother loosed a strangled squeak, snowflakes falling around her.
“Ach, Mam, it’s fine. You see, Brand was holding the beast back. Sorcha dragged me away, and then Lunara ripped the talons out and healed me.” He parted his robe, flashing the smooth skin on his sides and abdomen. “Good as fucking new, too. She even saved my battle markings.”
Everyone leaned in, gaping. Amun hardly ever looked surprised by anything, and even Araxis had left his corner to have a closer look, eyes darting back and forth between Luna and Mag.
“There was a bit of overlap. See, she was still mending me when the wee shite over there got himself snared by the dreadbeast’s tongue and was being strangled to death. Had to be at least five yards long.”
“Sisters, spare me,” his mother mumbled, dropping her head into her hands.
Brand pressed a fist to his chest, his own remembered terror from that moment bubbling up to mix with whatever horrified anticipation Luna was dumping into the bond.
“The witchling went fucking feral. Brand suspected, I think, but that was the first I thought they might be mates myself.” Mag looked at her, his gratitude shining.
“She snatched up one of the talons she’d taken from me and misted over there, saving his life.
If she hadn’t done that and given me ideas, we may never have slain it. ”
Luna froze beside him, the world tilting around Brand. He couldn’t breath through the onslaught of her devouring dread, the wrenching twist of his stomach.
“What did you just say?” Araxis’s voice mirrored the feelings roiling within him.
“I didn’t mist.” Her fingertips dug into the tops of her thighs. “I can’t mist.”
“Ach, you can and you did,” Mag snorted. “I watched it with my own two eyes. One second, you’re kneeling over me. The next, you’re standing beside Brand, screeching and stabbing, like that.” Mag snapped his fingers, the sound echoing around the room.
Luna shook her head slowly, every shallow breath cracking like a whip in the heavy silence.
Brand gritted his teeth, sucking in a lungful of air as two realizations hit him.
“You can,” he forced out. “You got to Hedda before anyone else and stopped her jumping into the chasm, too. And in the washroom after… When we were…” Shite.
Right before they’d sealed their bond and he’d spent hours and hours buried in her. “You can.”
“No. I can’t,” she whispered, wide eyes fixed a million miles inward. “Almost no one can.”
Brand felt the tiniest breeze pass through the room, ruffling his hair. The others tensed when it happened, all breath but Luna’s held still as the magical current moved between them.
“You’re both absolutely certain you saw her do that?”
Brand’s lips peeled back at his younger brother’s calm question—in direct opposition to the tense aggression in his body. “Why are you holding your blade, Araxis?”
“Because there are only two Sorcerit with the ability to mist at any given time. So I need you to be really fucking sure that’s what she did.”
Another gust swirled, even stronger.
“What?” Brand growled. “Since when?”
Araxis’s jaw ticked. “Since fucking always.”
“Well…” Vann called his own power up for some reason, vines twining around his wrist. “That’s news.”
Pounding started up on the outer door, Amal’s panicked voice shouting on the other side. Amun rose to reassure her, but Brand couldn’t be bothered to give a shite.
“No, no, no, no, no…” Luna’s chest was heaving. “This isn’t happening. Not real. Not real. I can’t mist. I can’t.”
Araxis crossed the room towards them, clear reluctance in every dutiful step. “Brother, you should move away from her.”
Magnus growled. “Would someone please fucking explain what’s happening?”
Brand tried to call his rage, to rail at his brothers, but all he could do was gag as nausea like he’d never felt brought a rush of stinging bile.
“Brandir, son, you must calm yourself. Breathe.”
“Da, no,” Araxis hissed. “You need to get Mum out of here right fucking now.”
His father was there, waving Araxis away as he knelt in front of him and Luna. “You control the bond, it doesn’t control you. You need to fight through her overwhelm or you’ll only make it worse.”
“I can’t mist,” she gasped out. “I can’t mist.”
Brand clawed through the spiral of her fixation, following his father’s instructions as he inched himself out of it. When he finally found his own mind again, his greater half surged to the surface.
His markings flared, the transformation almost instantaneous. His father leapt out of the way as Brand went to his own knees to gather her close.
“I’m here, little moon. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
“No! Get away!” Luna screamed, the harsh cry ripping through the room as a pulse of raw power rippled from her body and shoved him back.
Then another.
And another.
“You have to get away from me.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, her eyes both wild and apologetic as the others were forced backwards, furniture and feet scraping across the floor until they were pressed against the walls and windows, gasping for air, books and knickknacks falling from their shelves.
Vann uttered a curse, his vines and branches rising up from the floor along with their father’s, flora reaching for everyone else.
“She’s right.” Somehow, Araxis was resisting her power, his hand squeezing Brand’s forearm. “You don’t understand—”
Brand reached over and threw Araxis. His brother disappeared into the ether mid-air, popping up right where he’d been before. “Arsehole, I’m trying to help.”
“Then fuck off and get them out of here while I help her.”