Chapter 5
Melelea
Present Day
I swim to consciousness from total darkness, no visions or dreams. It feels close and oppressive, unnatural, like something is in my mind, blocking my gift. Slowly, I open my eyes and see the canopy of my bed.
“Melelea!” I hear Adalind’s voice exclaim. “Rognar, she’s awake!”
With bleary eyes, I look to my side and find Adalind and Rognar looking at me with worry in their grave faces.
“Wha . . . what happened?” I ask, my mind jumbled and confused.
“Grazrath somehow realized you were looking for him and attacked you through the scrying,” Rognar rumbles out in his grinding voice. “You’ve been unconscious for an entire day since the attack.”
It all comes flooding back to me. My vision, my scrying. Grazrath’s cold black eyes. The mage that he captured. His attack. I reach up to touch my face where he slashed me, but only feel smooth, unbroken skin.
“We had a healer come while you were unconscious,” Adalind explains as she sees my confusion. “It was only a shallow cut.”
“I should have realized that Grazrath would be able to sense eyes on him,” I say, grimacing as I try to pull myself upright. “I won’t make that mistake again.”
“No, you won’t,” comes Rognar’s gravelly voice. “Because you will not look for him again.”
I snort at my son’s high-handed command. “And how will you find him without me? Now that he has a magical blood slave, he’ll be able to replenish his powers and then we have no idea what he’ll be capable of. No, he needs to be found, and quickly.”
“We’ll use another to scry for him.” This comes from Adalind, sounding firm. “We will not risk you again.”
“Oh, and you know another sasari who you can just use, who wouldn’t mind taking on the risk of hunting a demon?” I ask, a falsely innocent air to my words. I know that I am their only option and they know it too, even if they don’t want to admit it.
Adalind and Rognar exchange a glance, having a silent conversation.
I know that they are probably communicating along their Mate Bond and my heart squeezes painfully, the old scar on my shoulder aching.
What I wouldn’t have given, once upon a time, to have that kind of close connection with someone who I loved.
But the orc who I loved turned out to be a monster and I do not think another love is in the stars for me.
“I am right here,” I say wryly, breaking into their silent conversation. The two turn back to me, chagrin on Adalind’s face and grave worry on my son’s.
“Apologies, Melelea,” Adalind says. “It is just . . . you are too precious to risk in such a way. To both of us. What happens next time Grazrath realizes you are watching him? Will he just attack? Maim you? Kill you? There is no way to tell and we cannot chance that something will happen to you.”
“I can be more careful next time,” I reassure her.
“There are precautions that I can take that I didn’t think to try before.
Ways to be more subtle in my magics that will allow me to look for him and exploit this mental connection that I have without Grazrath knowing.
We must find him, and soon, before he can enact the next part of his plan. ”
“What is the next part of his plan?” my son asks.
I shake my head. “I’m not completely sure, only that there is one. I could only feel his intentions. He aims to bring about blood and death to Anar’i. As much as he can.”
“We will find him without your help,” Adalind says firmly. “Our hunters are searching for him as we speak. There is no need to risk you when there are other options.”
“That’s—” I start, but then there’s a knock at the door.
“Enter,” growls out Rognar.
The door opens and Wodred enters, looking grave. His eyes flick to me on the bed, his expression unreadable. Now that I think on it, he often gives me those serious looks that I cannot read. I almost never know what Wodred is thinking.
“Pardon the interruption,” Wodred says. “I am glad to see that Lady Melelea is doing well, but I’m afraid we’ve just received bad news.”
“Bad news?” Adalind questions. “What bad news?”
“Grimblton has been attacked,” he says, shocking us.
“Attacked?” I ask. “By whom?” But I feel a pit in my stomach that tells me I already know.
Wodred’s eyes flick over to mine, holding them with serious intensity.
“Demons,” he says. “The Nether has been opened, and we are under attack.”