Chapter 9 Iris
Iris
The discovery comes three days after the storm.
I'm in the library again, surrounded by towers of books that are starting to feel less like research and more like an obsession.
My tea has gone cold. There's ink on my fingers and probably my face.
The fire needs stoking but I haven't moved in over an hour because I'm so close to understanding. I can feel it. In my heart. In my blood. I know we can figure this out. Because I refuse to lose what I’ve started to gain here.
"Iris."
I jump, nearly knocking over my current stack. Cadeon is in the doorway with fresh tea and what looks like toast with jam. He's been doing this lately, appearing with food when I forget to eat, stoking fires I've let die, generally keeping me functional while I disappear into research.
"You need to eat," he says, setting the plate beside me.
"I will, I just..." I gesture at the open book. "I think I found something. Look at this."
He moves behind my chair, close enough that I can feel the soft chill radiating from him. It's comforting now, that cold. Familiar. Safe.
"This text," I point to a passage heavily annotated in what looks like three different hands, "talks about solstice magic and familiar bonds. It says the solstice thins the veil between master and familiar. Makes the bond more... transparent. More honest."
"Honest how?"
"It reflects the true nature of the relationship.
" I flip to another marked page. "And look at this: bonds require constant reinforcement through the master's will to dominate.
Without that pressure, they naturally degrade.
But listen to this part: “When the master's will to control falters, the bond weakens in direct proportion to that faltering. At solstice, when all magic is laid bare, bonds cannot lie. They become what they truly are.”"
I look up at him, excited. "Don't you see? The bonds aren't breaking randomly, they're transforming. They're becoming honest reflections of the relationships they represent. Partnership bonds are weakening because they were never meant to be about dominance in the first place!"
He's very still behind me. Too still.
"Cadeon?"
"So your bond with me is weakening," he says carefully, "because you don't want to control me."
"Yes! Exactly!" I'm grinning now, because finally, finally, this makes sense. "I'm not failing at maintaining the bond. It's changing because I refuse to dominate you. The magic is adapting. Becoming something better, something more equal, something that actually reflects what we are."
"Then strengthen your will." His voice has gone flat. Empty. "Command me properly."
The words hit like ice water.
I turn in my chair to look at him. "What?"
"You heard me." He's not meeting my eyes, staring instead at the book in front of me. "Strengthen your will. Maintain the bond as it's meant to be maintained. Before it's too late."
"Too late for what?"
"Before it breaks completely." His hands are fists at his sides. "Before I..."
"Before you what? Are free? Can choose your own life?"
"I don't know what that means!" The words burst out of him, sharp and desperate. "I don't know what it means to be free, Iris. I don't know who I am without the bond's structure. What if there's nothing there? What if I'm just an empty shell that only knows how to obey?"
I stand, facing him fully. "You're not an empty shell. You're a person who..."
"You don't know that." He backs away from me, and the movement is so unlike him.
Cadeon doesn't retreat. "You don't know what I am without orders.
I don't even know. Hundreds of years, Iris. I was a creature of magic before I bonded with House Ashwood two hundred years ago. But I’ve spent so long being told what to do, what to want, what to be.
What if that's all there is? What if I take away the bond and there's just.. . nothing left?"
"That's not true. I've seen you do other things. You haven’t so much as killed a mouse since I arrived."
"Seen me what? Make bread? Taste food? Smile occasionally?" His laugh is bitter. "Those are responses. Reactions to what you offer. But what do I want? What do I choose when there's no bond telling me what to choose? I don't know I can choose at this point.."
My throat tightens. "Then we figure it out together."
"And if we're wrong?" He's pacing now, agitated in a way I've never seen. "If the bond breaks and I go feral? If I hurt you? If I hurt everyone because there's nothing holding me back anymore?"
"You won't."
"You can't KNOW that!" He rounds on me, and for just a moment I see it, the predator, the thing Grandmother made him into.
Then it's gone, and he just looks terrified.
"You can't know what I'll become without the bond.
I've been a weapon for two centuries. That's all I know how to be.
Without orders, without structure, without someone telling me what I'm for, I don't know if I can even. .."
He breaks off, one hand coming up to grip his hair. His breathing is rapid, shallow. Almost panicked.
"I need it," he says, and his voice cracks. "I need the bond. I need to know what I'm supposed to do. How I'm supposed to be. Without it, I'm just, I'm drowning, Iris. I'm drowning and the bond is the only thing keeping me tethered and you're letting go."
"I'm not letting go." I step toward him carefully. "I'm just refusing to hold you underwater."
"What if underwater is all I know?" He's not looking at me now, staring at his hands like they're foreign objects. "What if I need the pressure just to remember how to exist?"
"You don't. You just think you do because it's all you've ever known."
"Exactly!" He looks up at me, and his eyes are wild. "It's all I've ever known! For hundreds of years, the bond has been the only constant. The only thing that tells me what I am, what I'm for. Without it..." His voice drops to a whisper. "Without it, I'm just a monster with no leash."
"You're not a monster."
"I've killed hundreds of people, Iris. Thousands.
I don't even remember anymore. I've torn throats out.
I've drained people dry. I've done things that would make you sick if you knew the details.
" He's shaking now. "The bond kept me controlled.
Directed. Without it, what's to stop me from becoming exactly what I was made to be? "
"Choice," I say firmly. "Your choice. Your will. Your humanity."
"I'm not human!"
"You were once. And you still are, where it counts." I close the distance between us, even though every instinct tells me to give him space. "The bond didn't make you good, Cadeon. It made you obedient. There's a difference."
"Is there?" His voice is raw. "Because from where I'm standing, obedience was the only thing keeping me from being a monster."
"No." I reach for his hand, and he lets me take it.
His fingers are ice-cold, trembling. "Your choice kept you from being a monster.
Every time Grandmother gave you an order and you hated it but did it anyway, that was you choosing to survive.
To endure. Every time you felt guilt or shame or remorse, that was your humanity, still there, still fighting. "
"That's not... you don’t know what you’re talking about."
"And these past few weeks?" I squeeze his hand. "Every time you helped me cook, every time you smiled, every time you let yourself want something, that was you choosing to be more than what she made you. Not because the bond told you to. Because you wanted to."
He stares at me, and I can see the war in his eyes. The desperate need to believe me fighting against two centuries of conditioning.
"I'm terrified," he whispers. "I'm terrified of what I might become without the bond.
But I'm more terrified that you'll keep the bond and slowly turn into her.
That you'll start seeing me as a tool because that's easier than seeing me as a person.
That one day you'll give me an order and mean it, and I'll have to obey, and we'll both pretend that's what we wanted all along. Because I’ve only known you a short time, Iris, but there’s no way I can say no to you, I don’t even want to. "
Oh.
Oh.
"You think I'd do that?" My voice comes out small, maybe a little hurt. "You think I'd become like her?"
"I think power corrupts. I think having someone bound to obey you is intoxicating.
I think even good people, especially good people, convince themselves that control is protection.
" He pulls his hand from mine. "Your grandmother wasn't always cruel, Iris.
She was kind once. Laughed once. Cared about things other than winning.
But decades of war, of having a weapon at her disposal, of never having to ask because she could simply command. .. it changed her."
"I'm not her," I put steel in my tone because I need, need, him to understand this.
"Not yet. But what happens in ten years? Twenty? Fifty? When you've gotten used to me always being there, always saying yes, always doing exactly what you want? Will you even notice when you stop asking and start commanding?"
The accusation stings because there's truth in it. Power does corrupt. And I have absolute power over him.
"Then we break the bond," I say. "We let it dissolve at solstice if it’s possible. You go free. No risk of me becoming her. No risk of you staying trapped."
His laugh is broken. "And then what? I starve? I go feral? I hurt someone and you have to put me down like a rabid dog?"
"That won't happen." I don’t point out that I couldn’t hurt him even if I wanted to, not with my magic.
"You don't know that!" He's shouting now, and it's so unlike him that I actually flinch. "You keep saying that like it's a fact, but it's just hope. Just wishful thinking. You have no idea what will happen if the bloodline bond breaks. No one does. It's never been done."
"Then we'll be the first."