Chapter Thirty-Six
In the Palace of Xy
Nora had Riven’s…no…Tassos’s warm blood on her hands.
The muted voices around her intensified even as the Queen’s outrage coursed through the Bond. Satia was demanding explanations, the babies were shrieking and crying loud enough to rattle the windows. Avice, Caris, and Mira surrounded the Bonded, trying to calm her.
Their voices were muted and indistinct. Nora’s vision narrowed to just one precious sight.
Riven sat in the calm center of the room, staring at her. In his eyes she saw regret, relief and something else she wasn’t ready to identify.
Xykeir patted at the mage’s face. Nora watched as Riven’s…no…Tassos’s attention was claimed by his Bonded.
“Send for the King,” Avice, at the door, whispered to the guards while glancing nervously back over her shoulder to where Mira and Caris were trying to appease the Bonded. It wasn’t working.
Witless had a pile of babes in his lap and was cooing to quiet their squalling. The floor was completely clear, with no trace of the spell matrix.
Nora was frozen, rattled and confused. Blood was cooling and sticky between her fingers. She had a man’s blood on her hands, she had slit his throat, and yet he was sitting there, healed and whole.
Tassos looked at her again, his eyes warm and—
What had he done? What had he tried to do?
The stone knife was still in her grip but the blade was clean, as if the black stone of the blade had absorbed the blood it had drawn.
Yet Riven—her Riven—sat there, healthy and alive.
Her Riven? Where had that thought—
Nora felt a tightness growing within, constricted around her ribs as if something held her breath within.
Constricting her heart.
She was shaken to her core; helpless in a way she’d never felt before.
He’d turned to her, reached to her. He tried to—
The tightness grew, and she fought it, fighting for this one thought.
Riven…Tassos…had tried to free her.
The very idea was terrifying and strange. Why would he do that? Deep within, she knew, she felt…her heart cracked open. No one had ever done anything like that for her. Ever.
Tassos looked at her, gaze filled with love and compassion and strength.
Nora opened her mouth, to say what…She wasn’t sure. No matter, because in that moment she felt the Bond clamp down, hard and fierce, on her body and her soul. And in the face of that towering, unknown emotion, she let go, slipping back into the Bond’s comfortable, confining embrace.
“Perhaps we should get those babes in nappies, eh?” The King’s voice was calm and strong.
Nora blinked, coming back to her surroundings.
King Xyrath stood in the doorway, looking at the naked babes crawling over Witless and Tassos. Avice must have told him of the outcome, but he only seemed mildly amused, even in the face of Satia’s rage. The Bonded was pacing and cursing, her black hair tumbling from its bun.
Nora hid the stone knife from Xyrath’s view, pressing it to her thigh.
“They need to die,” Saita spat, fuming and furious, turning on the King.
Mira and Caris scurried about, gathering nappies and swaddlings, handing them to Witless while keeping a wary eye on the Bonded. Avice hovered near the door. The moon-child began immediately to tend to the infants and their sobbing began to taper off.
“Now, now, let’s keep our swords sheathed for the moment.” Xyrath strode to Satia’s side and put an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s think this through, sweetling.”
Satia jerked away from him and stomped to the window.
The King followed. “So, it didn’t turn out the way you expected,” Xyrath said.
“I understand your frustration. But we made a point of telling people that we were providing our son and heir with companions. Forming a hearth-band, in the old ways. Having them all die suddenly and at once would be awkward, don’t you think? ”
Satia cursed.
“Better to dispose of them slowly, over time.” Xyrath said. “But who knows, might be good for the lad. Maybe we will not have to foster him, eh?”
Satia snorted, her arms crossed. “I’ll find another blood mage and we will try again.”
“There is no way to do that,” Xyrath said, putting his hands on Satia’s shoulders.
“By the time you gather the replacement materials and find a new blood mage, given how rare they are, Xykeir will be too old, yes? Not to mention the cost.” He rubbed her shoulders.
“You can try again. With our next child.”
Satia sighed. “Fine. We’ll just kill the wretched mage and the idiot then.” She shot them a glare.
Nora’s hand tightened on the stone knife. Neither Tassos and Witless looked up from their charges, but Nora saw the tightening in Tassos’s shoulders.
“It’s his fault, I know it is.” Satia pulled away from Xyrath and moved to tower over Tassos. “They should die.”
“No,” Xyrath said firmly. “We don’t know what happens if a bond-slave dies. You haven’t lost one. Your father died in battle, along with all of his men, and we don’t know the details of their deaths.”
“The instructions say—” Satia started to argue, but the King cut her short.
“We will not risk my heir,” Xyrath said firmly.
They glared at one another for long moments until Satia looked away. “He wasted my time, and my money, and now he’s worthless to me,” she grumbled drawing back her foot as if to kick the mage.
“But not to Xykeir,” Xyrath said, taking gentle hold of her arm and, apparently accidentally, pulling her just off balance enough that she had to set down her foot.
They studied Tassos as if he were a particularly nasty bug.
“True, the idiot is a waste, but the mage? Our son will have a mage under bond, and not a Chained Mage. No Guild. No costly contract. Think of that.”
Nora held her breath as her Bonded’s eyes narrowed. “Can you still work magic, you stinking treacherous turd?” Satia demanded. “If I command you?”
Tassos looked up, his eyes dull, his voice rote. “Only as I am commanded by my Bonded.”
“There, you see?” Xyrath chuckled. “Our son will have him turning people into frogs in no time. A few years at most.” He chuckled. “Besides, once we’re sure it’s safe, we can always kill them later.”
Satia glared, frowning. Nora could see her considering the possibilities.
“We can say that he is to tutor Xykeir and his hearth-band.” Xyrath looked around. “This would make a fine classroom, with some rugs. In the meantime, he can read all these books for me.” He gestured to the crammed shelves. “For my little project.”
“Fine,” Satia snapped. “But they are banished to the nursery and this classroom. I never want to see them again. They can help care for the babes.”
“Excellent,” Xyrath said. “Your women can see to the details. Trust me, beloved,” he continued, guiding Satia toward the doorway, “this just serves to make you appear more mysterious, more powerful. No one will have any idea that it didn’t go as planned.”
“As long as no one knows,” Satia said with a pout in her voice as she went through the door.
“You remain utterly terrifying, my sweet,” Xyrath said, reaching out to stoke Satia’s cheek with one finger. His voice lowered as he moved closer to her. “Come, let’s to sleep. You are so beautiful this way, dearest.
“We can start on trying for our next child.” He closed the door behind them as they left.
Nora felt like she could take a breath.
Avice headed for the scroll box. “Get them all to the nursery.”
Caris and Mira started to herd Witless and the babes.
Nora stared at Tassos, looking for…something.
The mage rose to his feet, Xykeir in his arms. There was a glint in his eye, the echo of a promise. He gave her the slightest of nods.
Nora nodded back.
Then Xykeir yawned and dullness filled Tassos’s eyes. He focused back on the babe and headed for the door.
“Nora,” Avice said, holding her hand out for the knife. “We need to get you cleaned up.”
The restraints were still on Nora, still tight. She handed over the blade. Avice sheathed it and placed it in the box, closing it with a snap. She picked up the bottle of letheon. “Come,” she said as she headed to the door.
Nora didn’t resist. She followed Avice, but deep within her, a new desire smoldered.
A burning determination to be free.