CHAPTER SEVENTEEN #3
“Don’t get yourself in a tizzy,” she said. “I’m a precious commodity. I can’t go marrying a non-Warrior.”
“Whoever said I want to marry you?” Thom replied sourly, then tossed the Relic back to Rafferty.
“Can we not throw sacred magical artifacts around, please?” Auden said incredulously.
Seeing the disappointment in Thom’s hardened expression, Deckard attempted to move the conversation forward. Night Relic still in hand, he held Auden’s gaze. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.
“Quite sure,” he confirmed. “As Ilain said, she’s suspected for a while now. I was skeptical, but there were always signs.”
“Like what?”
“Your time in the Keeps,” Evylin muttered.
Rafferty nudged her arm. “My thinking exactly, Eve. After our failed trials with my previous theory, I thought: Why is the Colonel so much better in the Keeps? It’s not like Ethenn’s skills are that much improved during our mad dashes. He’s always been obnoxiously impressive.”
Ethenn’s thick eyebrows rose, but he didn’t reply.
“That was just one of the signs,” Ilain interjected.
“Other notable instances: You discovered the Keeps and heard the Shades early along with Auden and me, which is supposed to be nearly impossible, and you heal far too rapidly. Beyond that and your uncanny improvement in the Keeps, what more evidence do you need?”
Deckard pinched the bridge of his nose. It was becoming more and more difficult to deny it.
He couldn’t say exactly why the idea bothered him so much.
Perhaps it was because he’d grown up his whole life hearing that Mages were evil incarnate, that they staunchly opposed the Allorian faith.
And while he knew the Calders contradicted that dogma, it stuck in his brain.
What was more, he didn’t like the weight that came with being magical. It was fine for Evylin. He’d always known she was special, a step above every other woman he’d met. Magic explained why. But for him . . . ?
Deckard was a soldier. He was a servant. That was all he aspired to be. If he became a Mage, that meant his entire identity would change. No longer an officer following the orders of his superiors, but a magical being, revered and dominant.
Yet, there was no way to contest the truth. Not with this Relic still glowing in his hand.
Deckard handed it back to Rafferty, telling him to put them all away. He turned to Auden once more. “What does this mean?” he asked.
“First,” Auden said, “it means that our mission’s chance of success has greatly increased. The Alliance will certainly want to continue working with you in the future as well. And it means you will have to train.”
“And what if I choose not to work with the Alliance?” Deckard asked.
Auden looked disappointed but didn’t challenge him. “Then they’ll allow you to go your separate way. However, I wouldn’t advise it. Once you begin to use magic, it starts to impact the rest of your life. You’d be hard-pressed to return to a normal one.”
“More importantly,” Ilain said, a twinkle in her eyes, “you’re a Mage who’s married to a Warrior.”
Deckard’s expression went slack. He glanced at Evylin, her shoulders ramrod straight. “What does that have to do—” He paused, remembering his conversation with Auden two days ago. “Bonding,” he whispered.
Ilain nodded enthusiastically.
“What’s that?” Evylin demanded. “What does that mean?”
Deckard saw the disaster coming before he could stop it. This was exactly what Hewitt had warned him against. Evylin wouldn’t see Bonding as anything but a shackle—one more link in the chain that fixed her to him. She’d see it as a means of his control over her.
But he couldn’t stop Ilain from answering.
“Warriors and Mages are meant to be together,” the woman said with reverence. “Our powers are designed to be in balance. They strengthen and enhance each other. And that’s when they’re not even Bonded.”
Ilain gripped a branch of the hawthorn, leaning forward in her passion.
“When a Warrior and a Mage Bond, they take an oath of complete and total trust. They fuse their souls, becoming of one power, one mind, and one heart. It is an unbreakable vow, even more hallowed than the sacrament of marriage.”
A cold breeze rustled through the trees, sending a shiver down Deckard’s spine. Insects chirruped in the night, filling the silence. He didn’t bother assessing the men’s reactions. He only cared to see Evylin’s response.
She sat there, face blank and shoulders back. The only sign of her discontent was her fingers, locked on her rings. “Why can’t it be broken?” she asked flatly.
“It’s magically induced,” Auden explained. “To break the Bond would be literal suicide.”
“Not that anyone would want to break their Bond,” Ilain said flippantly. “As I said, it’s a binding of hearts. If the pair weren’t already in love, they would be shortly after. Which,” she grinned knowingly, “obviously doesn’t change anything between the two of you.”
Slowly, Evylin met Deckard’s stare. He hoped she could see the disapproval in his gaze. He would not ask her to make any such vows to him.
Deckard met Ilain’s gleaming stare. “Nor does it mean anything to us,” he replied with resolve. “As it doesn’t apply to our situation.”
“Of course, it applies,” Ilain retorted. “You’re a Mage, and she’s a Warrior. Not Bonding would be ridiculous.”
“That’s out of the question. I’ve no interest in living my life as a Mage.”
She scoffed. “Too bad. You are one.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to act as one.”
Ilain pursed her lips as though he were being foolish.
However, Auden spoke for her. “I would hope,” he said calmly, “that you’d care to act as one in our present circumstance.
As I said, our odds of securing the Relics and saving our countries become far more achievable with your power, whatever it may be. ”
Auden glanced at Evylin thoughtfully before continuing.
“And there is no reason to rush a decision regarding the Bond. Even if you should desire it, it isn’t something that could be accomplished during our travels.
Such a sacred ceremony requires a specific set of rituals.
Be that as it may,” his tone lightened, “even not Bonded, a Warrior and a Mage joined in the holy sacrament of marriage carry a great deal more power than those of us who remain single. Together, your and Evylin’s powers will be significantly more potent. ”
Despite himself, Deckard felt his heart stir at the thought.
The way the Calders spoke, it sounded as though he and Evylin were meant for each other.
Almost as though Allore had designed them specifically for each other.
Even if that wasn’t true, it felt like a confirmation—providence telling them they were destined for one another.
And yet, Deckard needed to reject every word to ensure his wife wouldn’t see their unique union as a cage.
He looked at Evylin, tension filling his whole body.
He had to fix this before it was too late.
He had to prove to her that he wouldn’t use this as a means of confining her.
Hewitt said she needed to feel independent, free to make her own choices.
So he had to make sure she understood: This would change nothing between them.
Deckard turned to the Calders. “This isn’t fate,” he said decisively, even if he wasn’t sure about it himself. “Evylin’s and my relationship isn’t because of our magic.”
“Certainly not,” Ilain confirmed. “Love isn’t destiny. It’s a choice. But magic certainly helps foster that choice.”
Raising his chin, Deckard directed his next words specifically to Auden. “I take it, this means you’ll want to train me.”
“Absolutely,” Auden said. “It’d be best to start immediately. We only have five more days until we reach the Wind Keep. Getting your power under control should be our primary focus.”
Deckard nodded. “Tomorrow. In the meantime,” he said, meeting Evylin’s hard stare, “could I speak with you privately?”
Slowly and silently, Evylin rose.
“We’ll be back shortly,” Deckard said. He pointed a finger at Rafferty. “No more playing with Relics.”
The weasel saluted. “As you say, Highlord Colonel.”
Pulling in a deep breath, Deckard moved out of the camp. He didn’t bother checking to be sure Evylin followed. He knew she would. Deckard curled his hands into fists under his cloak, determined to mitigate this disaster before he lost his wife for good.