Chapter 48
The Bargainer jerks me and Nero to a stop on what appears to be an arbitrary floor.
I stagger a little before I catch the center railing. Far beneath us, a disturbing orange glow emanates from the depths.
“Your sugar daddy seems to have started a fire on one of the lowest levels,” the Bargainer says.
“So this is what we’re going to do: I’m going to get down there and extinguish it, hopefully before this entire place goes up in flames, and you and your pet demon are going to remain here, where you can watch for your deranged soul mate and maybe try to stop him, ’kay, sugar? ”
I swallow down my bile and nod before I can fully process his words.
With that, the Bargainer seems to levitate up from the floor toward the open space in the middle of the staircase.
And then he falls.
I swallow my scream as I lean over the railing and watch him free fall down, the shadows seeming to follow him.
Halfway down, indigo magic snaps out from one of the levels, enveloping the Bargainer in an instant.
I swallow a scream as the iridescent blue power rips the fairy from the air and drags him off.
“Holy fucking imps,” I breathe, glancing at Nero.
The panther looks like someone shit on his birthday cake, which honestly, same, bro.
Seems like we found Memnon.
I rush down the stairs. As usual, Nero is faster still, and I lose sight of him within a matter of turns.
Now there’s not just a hint of smoke; bilious wisps of it rise from the growing inferno below.
I cough, then stumble a little before I force my magic out to clear a path for Nero and me. Even still, it’s becoming harder to breathe.
I’m so distracted, I nearly pass the floor the Bargainer was dragged to. It’s only the sight of Nero prowling toward a looming, ominous figure that has me pausing.
Memnon.
My knees go weak at the sight of him.
The sorcerer is backlit by fire as the scrolls behind him burn. At his feet, looking like a sacrifice, is the crumpled form of the Bargainer.
Memnon’s eyes rise from Nero to mine.
“Est amage.”
In several quick, long strides he closes the distance between us.
Memnon cups my face in his hands, his glittering eyes devouring mine. “You weren’t supposed to come for me.”
“Of course I came. Where you go, I follow.”
Memnon strokes my skin with his thumb. A shudder works its way through his body. “I need to get you out of here.”
“That’s my line,” I echo back to him.
He smiles sadly at me.
My eyes almost slide to the Bargainer. Ash is beginning to swirl around us, and there’s a deep roar coming from the fires below and beyond us.
Not much time left.
My gaze doesn’t leave Memnon when I find his hand and thread his fingers through mine. With my other hand, I withdraw one of my daggers. A desperate idea has taken root in me.
I press our intertwined hands against my cheek.
Not much time.
“This is not how we end,” I remind him. “We are eternal.”
It’s an easy thing, bringing my blade up and nicking our wrists, one after another.
And though I have to lock my jaw against the sick sensation of warm blood slipping from my wrist, it’s not the pain that gets me.
It’s hard to hope this will work. It’s going to require his acceptance, and that might be just as bound up in Eislyn’s commands as the rest of him is.
Memnon’s eyes flash with a cunning intensity as his gaze dips to the wounds, and when he looks at me again, a sly smile draws up the corners of his mouth.
There’s my warlord.
His hand squeezes mine, and though he doesn’t speak and I still cannot hear his thoughts, I hear his will all the same.
Do it, my queen.
Long ago Eislyn placed my soul mate in eternal sleep. She hadn’t thought I could undermine her carefully crafted spell then, just as I bet she hadn’t thought I could undermine her now.
The oversight cost her two thousand years of exile.
There’s no greater bond in all the world than that between soul mates. But a bond that’s been fated from birth along with a forged bond—fuck, I’m really, really hoping it’s enough to overthrow Eislyn’s own forced hold on Memnon.
I stare into his eyes. “With blood I bind, with bone I break, only with Eislyn’s death shall I forsake. My bidding be done, under moon and sun, your will is mine until this deed is done.”
All Memnon needs to do is press his bleeding flesh against mine. His intention and magic will do the rest.
But…
Though his bloody, clasped arm trembles, it doesn’t move to mine.
I know he wants it—I can almost taste it down our bond.
It would be so easy to press my forearm to his, but it has to come from him, that’s what differentiates a forged bond from a forced one.
And I sense the magic holds strictly to those rules.
My soul mate’s eyes glisten, and I can sense his boiling rage and frustration. There must be some command in place stopping him from accepting.
“I can’t do it,” he finally admits, his voice hoarse. “I’m sorry, est amage.”
Memnon takes a halting step back, then seemingly trips over his own feet.
The sorcerer falls back, taking me and our clasped hands along with him.
I release my dagger at the last second, afraid I might impale one of us.
And then we hit the ground hard, Memnon taking the brunt of the force.
I hear him grunt as I crash into him, my chest and bloody forearm colliding with his.
There’s a hiss from where our wounds touch, and then our magic spirals out from them, the pale orange and deep blue hues intertwining around each other, then our bodies.
My gaze rises to meet Memnon’s.
“Whoops,” he breathes, the corner of his mouth curving up into a smirk.
I give him a sly, knowing look as Nero moves to our side. Seems as though Memnon found a workaround to Eislyn’s command.
He squeezes my hand again. “Command me, my queen,” my soul mate says quietly.
It’s been a while since I did this last, but that strange, terrible power of holding another’s will in the palm of my hand comes back to me now.
“You will obey no command except mine,” I say. “Any orders that have bound you until now, you will not follow. And any future orders given by anyone other than me will be disregarded.”
Memnon draws in a deep inhalation, his chest rising and falling faster and faster.
“Memnon, I command you to act of your own free will.”
I still don’t fully know if it worked. I don’t—
A wave of Memnon’s power rushes out, moving in all directions. I hear a steaming hiss as it hits the shelves of burning scrolls. Within seconds, the fires that threatened to consume this entire mountain are doused.
All that’s left is rapidly dissolving smoke.
I glance down at Memnon and part my lips. Before I can speak, he surges up, his mouth finding mine. He takes advantage of my parted lips, his tongue sweeping in and devouring me.
I fall into the kiss.
My radiant, clever queen. Memnon’s voice rushes through our connection, and I smile against his lips, enjoying the press of his mind so close to mine. You have a warrior’s heart and a strategist’s mind.
Well, okay, I’m impressed with me too, but maybe that’s a tad too generous on the compliments.
You saved me yet again from Eislyn, Memnon continues.
I pull away to marvel at his face, tucking a stray lock of his hair behind his ear. And this time, I made a bargain with a more benevolent being than the Hungering Ones. Seemingly of its own accord, my gaze drifts over to where the Bargainer still lies sprawled out.
Memnon scoffs. “We’ll see just how benevolent he is when he asks me to pay up.”
With that, Memnon sits up, dragging me up along with him.
Nero steps in close, rubbing his head along Memnon’s arm.
The sorcerer reaches out and pets him. “You are a fierce creature and valiant familiar. I trust you protected Selene when I couldn’t.”
I mean, mostly, I just rode him like he was a show pony.
Memnon’s eyebrows go up, and oops, I must’ve thought that thought too loud.
“Long story,” I say softly.
My soul mate nods, the mirth slowly draining from his face. He looks around at the damage his power wrought. There’s mostly ash and charred remains of the scrolls once housed here. Countless judgments were erased as though they’d never been.
I push myself to my feet, Memnon following.
“Do you know if you burned Eislyn’s judgment?”
Memnon shakes his head. “She didn’t know which one was hers. Her plan was to have me burn them all.”
My eyes sweep over the damage. “So there’s a chance you didn’t burn hers?”
“There’s a chance,” Memnon says darkly. He doesn’t sound at all confident about that chance, however.
“Come, let’s wake our debt collector and leave this place.” With that, Memnon moves over to the Bargainer.
Crouching next to him, he places hands on either side of the fairy’s head.
I hear the Bargainer’s swift inhale, then Memnon is thrown clear across the room. He crashes into some smoldering shelves nearby, and the entire structure collapses under Memnon’s weight.
The darkness crowds in close to the Bargainer as he rises.
“Wait!” I call out to the fairy. “He’s under my command now.”
I can barely see the Bargainer beneath the shadows that cling to him. His breathing is labored, and he’s giving Memnon a look that would shrivel my balls if I were a dude.
But he doesn’t act right away. The shadows around him seem to stir, then eventually clear.
Both the Bargainer and the sorcerer eye each other as Memnon gets up.
My soul mate gives him a subtle nod. “I’m sorry.”
Memnon’s apologies to anyone besides me are few and far between.
After a brief hesitation, the Bargainer inclines his head to Memnon. The fairy’s gaze swings to me. “You bound him?”
I lift a shoulder. “I figured my commands might suppress Eislyn’s—and I was right.”
The Bargainer’s eyes flick over me, then he nods. “Well done, sugar.”
Memnon crosses over to us. “Careful what you call my wife, fairy,” he warns.
That seems to significantly brighten the Bargainer’s mood. “Alright, daddy.”
Memnon grimaces, clearly liking his new name even less than mine.
He’s baiting you, I tell him down our connection.
Memnon’s attention snaps to me, and even across the distance I see his gaze soften.
It’s working, he says. But accompanying the words is a feather-soft emotion that is some combination of happiness, adoration, and love.
I like feeling the stroke of your voice in my mind, he admits, and I love it even more that I can speak freely back and you’ll hear it.
Memnon’s eyes slide to the Bargainer, who is assessing the smoldering remains of the scrolls on this level.
“I don’t know if Eislyn’s scroll was consumed in the fire,” Memnon admits.
The Bargainer flashes us both a grim look. “I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”