CHAPTER TWELVE #2
The ivy shuddered around his heart. “What do you expect me to do?” he asked, already sure he knew the answer.
“I’m not telling you to do anything,” Auden assured him.
“Nor am I blaming you for the situation.
However, I am warning you of the truth: It is dangerous for Evylin to carry the Relic.
She may be capable of ignoring her grief with its power, but eventually, it will overtake her.
Magic naturally alters every magical individual.
Mages become more like the resource they connect with most deeply.
Warriors become stronger, more agile, and more cunning.
“But what’s happening to Evylin isn’t natural,” he warned. “Carrying a Relic for an extended period of time will taint her soul, making her dependent on its power. And should she lose it—when she loses it, she will fall into a despair far greater than if she’d lost Hewitt a dozen times over.”
If Auden had wanted to scare Deckard, he’d succeeded.
“I have to take it from her,” Deckard realized.
Auden’s expression radiated the greatest sympathy. “If you don’t do it now, it will be taken from her at the end of our mission.”
That information diverted his thoughts long enough to ask, “What does the Alliance intend to do with the Relics? If no magical person can carry them without losing their sanity, will they return them to the Keeps?”
Auden stared at the road ahead for several seconds before replying.
“The Relics are too valuable to return to the Keeps. Terraeus has suffered from their confinement. Allore gave the Relics to his people to use, not to hide, and over the last millennium, we’ve seen the degradation of the resources because of it. ”
“How do you mean?”
“Not only are our powers as Mages more volatile and difficult to master, but you can see it in the terrae around us.” Auden motioned to the sky.
“The constant rain of Wauld isn’t natural.
It is a result of Water magic weakening and becoming unwieldy.
The overgrown forests are the consequence of Terrae magic running unchecked.
Even in Ephria, you experience the resources out of harmony through the extremity of summer and winter with little autumn or spring to regulate them, due to the battle between Day and Night.
Or you can see it in the sudden, turbulent wind that sweeps across the plains.
These things could be brought back into balance with the Relics present in our world. ”
Deckard had never realized that their world’s weather and seasons were unbalanced. Growing up with scorchingly hot summers and bitingly cold winters was as natural as looking up at the butter-yellow sun. But then, was that the sun’s natural color?
“Balancing the resources is all well and good,” Deckard said, “but how can they retain possession of them if no Mage or Warrior is safe to carry them? I assume they wouldn’t work if a non-magical person wore them.”
“You’re correct,” Auden said. “Their magic is rendered ineffective when held by non-magical individuals, as witnessed while in Rafferty’s possession.
However, it is incorrect to say that no Mage or Warrior is safe to carry them.
Allore would not have given us power without giving us the means to use it. ”
“And by what means is that?”
“Bonding.” Auden said the word with a strange lift, as though in reverence. “A venerable practice that the ancient Mages locked away along with the locations of the Relics.”
“I take it the Alliance unlocked that secret along with the instructions for recovering the Keeps?”
“Not the Alliance.” Auden passed him a smirk. “Ilain.”
“Your sister discovered the secret to carrying the Relics?”
“Why do you think they sent us on this mission?”
“Hm.” Deckard wiped a wily raindrop that had outwitted his hood from his cheek. “What is this ancient practice?”
“Magic is all about balance,” Auden said. “Day and Night, Fire and Water.” He gave Deckard a meaningful look. “Mage and Warrior. Two opposing forces that keep each other in check. Once Bonded, a Warrior and a Mage are the embodiment of perfect balance. As such, they can carry a Relic without fear.”
A sharp pressure rankled the center of Deckard’s face, and he discovered his brows had pinched themselves together. He tried to ease them, unsure of how long he’d held his expression that way.
“At least,” Auden went on, “that’s what Ilain says. She’s the foremost expert on the subject, being the one to discover the truth of it all.”
“So the Alliance wants Bonded Warriors and Mages,” Deckard surmised.
“Indeed. Though that’s easier said than done.”
“How so?”
“The requirements are quite specific. It’s a perfect balance given flesh. Therefore, it must have perfect balance to be obtained. One a Warrior, one a Mage. One a male, the other a female.”
“That doesn’t sound so difficult.”
“Tell that to the male Mages of the Alliance.”
“I don’t understand.”
“For some reason,” Auden said, sounding somewhat irritated, though more at the subject than at Deckard, “magic favors men. From what we know, it equals out to roughly eighty percent male. Ilain has a theory that it has something to do with Bonding, but no one knows for sure. Regardless, it puts us in a bit of a predicament, as we need eight Bonded couples to carry the Relics, and we only have two female Warriors eligible for the task.”
“I’m afraid I still don’t see the problem.”
“Well, it puts us male Mages at a disadvantage, you see? If any of us hope to be chosen to help carry the Relic, we’ll have to convince one of the two female Warriors to marry us.”
Deckard blinked. “Why?”
“Bonding is a very intimate connection, even more so than marriage. To ask unmarried individuals to accept such a connection would be illogical.”
While Deckard didn’t pretend to comprehend the suggestion fully, neither did he care to follow this divergence. “All right,” he said. “I’ll tell Evylin to give the Relic back to Rafferty.”
Auden gave him a pained expression. “It won’t be that simple, Jonn. She’ll want to keep it.”
“Yes, but I’ll explain the dangers to her, and she’ll do the right thing.”
“She’s addicted to it. She won’t give it up without a fight.”
Deckard grimaced. He’d been worried about that. But she trusted him now, didn’t she? He could help her see that releasing the Relic was in her best interest.
“I will warn you,” Auden continued, his tone cautious once more. “She may take it as another betrayal.”
Deckard bristled. “I’ve never—”
“I know you haven’t,” he insisted. “But I was there when she accused you after Hewitt’s death.
Whatever level of comfort she’s regained with you, you have to know it isn’t real.
It’s the Relic. And when you take it from her, she will revert to the pain she felt before.
She’ll blame you, and not just for his death this time. ”
A cold wash of worry spread over Deckard’s scalp. His body went numb as his mind reconciled this new information. Evylin’s comfort wasn’t real. Her trust wasn’t real. And as for her love . . .
Deckard clenched his jaw, thinking back to the previous night. The ivy encasing his heart withered, crumbling away to ash.
Evylin hadn’t kissed him because she loved him. She’d done it because she was intoxicated. It’d meant nothing more than momentary entertainment. And after he took the Relic from her, she’d feel nothing but anger and betrayal toward him.
For a moment, Deckard considered asking Auden to do it himself. Let the Mage challenge her for the Relic. He stood to lose nothing from garnering Evylin’s wrath.
But Deckard knew he couldn’t do that. It was his job to protect her. He was her husband; no matter the difficulty it might place him in, he’d vowed to care for her. And up until now, he’d failed.
She’d lost her uncle. She’d fallen into depression. And he’d completely missed the fact that she’d held onto the Relic to ease her pain, instead rationalizing that she’d fallen in love with him to explain her behavior change.
No, he couldn’t put this burden on Auden. He had to face it himself.
“I’ll do it tonight,” Deckard said, “when we reach our next stop.”
Auden was silent for a time, accepting his decision. Then he offered a simple, “I’m sorry, Jonn.”
Shaking his head, Deckard knew the man couldn’t understand the full consequences he’d face from this task. He couldn’t know that by taking the Relic from Evylin, Deckard would drive her even farther away from ever wanting him. By protecting her, he risked losing what little trust he’d earned.