CHAPTER FOUR #2
The elderly man leaned forward, a solemnity in his gaze that assured them he took their charge seriously.
“It is the Alliance’s core tenet to restore Allund, as you mentioned, Colonel.
Not to the unjust state it was nearly two centuries ago, but to the divine province that Allore ordained more than a millennium past.”
Evylin shuffled her feet, uncertain how much of his grand rhetoric she could trust.
“We intend to accomplish this,” Fishere continued, “by first reclaiming the Ateri Relics, which are fragments of the Creator Divine’s very self.
Since they’ve been locked away, their absence from our realm has set our world into a slow degradation.
With their return, we shall restore Terraeus to its true nature by granting each Relic to a Bonded couple of corresponding resource.
At which point, we will establish our rule in Allund as an oligarchal democracy.
Granted, all of this can only take place once we’ve overthrown the Waulden and Ephrian monarchies, which we intend to accomplish by means of the power granted to our Bonded couples with those Relics.
“We will give both Ephren and Blount the opportunity to surrender,” he explained. “If they refuse, they will either be incarcerated or, if they turn violent, executed. But we’d prefer to avoid that outcome.”
Evylin glanced at Deckard, unsure what to think of these plans.
“Now,” Fishere said, “if you’d like a full report on our governmental structure, such an endeavor would take several hours, and as I’d rather not bore my members who are already familiar with those details, I’d be happy to meet with you tomorrow should you like to review the specifications of our plans. Does that answer your question?”
Evylin forced herself not to chew on her lip, finding her brain too full of political elocution to come up with words of her own.
“Not entirely,” Deckard said slowly. “But well enough. I’d only ask: What if the people of Wauld and Ephria don’t want to be part of this new version of Allund? What if they prefer their lives to remain the way they’ve been?”
A handful of individuals scoffed at the idea, but Archminister Fishere regarded the question with earnestness.
“I’m sure many Mages of Wauld do prefer things the way they are at present,” he said.
“But I can assure you that the people do not. Though some of our members here in the Alliance are nobility, we are not a league of the elite. The majority of our people are normal citizens from settlements throughout the continent. They are the merchants, the farmers, the tailors, the bakers, and the smiths. Their futures are not defined by grand or entertaining tales, but they are the individuals who make our choices. They are the ones who gave us—” He gestured to himself and the rest of the ministers, “our jobs. We have thousands of Wauldeners and Ephrians who have rallied to our cause, only a small number of whom hold any sort of wealth or noble blood. The Alliance has no interest in claiming power for the sake of ego or ambition. We don’t care for glory or honor.
We only seek to provide a better future for our children and to serve Allore’s holy charge from the beginning: to care for Terraeus, to create as he created, and to serve the nature of his divine balance. ”
A deafening applause and clamor of approval filled the room as the archminister finished his impassioned speech.
Fists were raised as men and women whistled and cheered their support.
The Calders sat with their heads held high, proud of their leader’s proclamation.
Even young Reyana let out a whoop of excitement.
The sound surrounded the five Ephrians. Rafferty appeared unimpressed, lounging in his chair. Ethenn stared at his hands, deep in thought. And Thom’s eyes were on Evylin and Deckard, as though waiting for their reaction.
Evylin met Deckard’s gaze, his expression inscrutable.
She couldn’t deny the stirring of emotion in her chest. The archminister meant his words.
These people—the members of the Alliance—meant them too.
This was not a band of selfish anarchists.
It was an organization of devout Allorians, determined to uphold the commission of their deity.
But Evylin wasn’t religious.
So why did she feel the urge to join them?
As the cheering died down, it was clear the archminister was waiting for their response.
Deckard steadied himself, resetting his grip on Evylin. “Thank you, sir,” he said with his usual refinement, “for sharing your convictions. They are both insightful and reassuring.”
When it was clear Deckard didn’t intend to say anything more, Fishere spoke.
“I can appreciate your hesitation, Colonel, and I resent that your introduction to our organization was one fraught with mistrust and coercive action. I assure you that such a practice is not our preferred method of presenting ourselves. But I hope you can forgive the duplicity, knowing that secrecy and underhanded techniques are necessary when you’re a rebel faction. ”
“As a soldier who has betrayed his own country,” Deckard said stolidly, “I’m in the unique position of understanding completely.”
Fishere gave a single, appreciative nod.
“Regardless,” Deckard added, and the archminister’s ease disappeared, “that doesn’t negate the fact that you’d like to separate me and my wife.”
“I wouldn’t like to,” Fishere said. “I feel it’s best for her safety and the safety of our people. Do you know what would happen if Prince Blount had the opportunity to Bond?”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t like to find out,” Deckard replied. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I won’t be leaving without my wife.”
Fishere raised an eyebrow. “Then you won’t be leaving.”
A handful of men rose to their feet throughout the room, a show of force marking their position with clear intentions. If Evylin tried to leave or if Deckard or any of their friends tried to take her on this mission, they would be stopped.
Ilain muttered a curse and dropped her head into her hand as the three Ephrian soldiers rose too. “You’re making matters worse, Edmaund,” she warned.
Fishere regarded her. “The entirety of Wauld is looking for Private Deckard. To allow her to leave our protective custody is to hand her over to Blount. Renaul’s capture of you is proof that you can’t keep her from him forever.
There are hundreds of other nobles just waiting to prove themselves to the prince, and the entirety of the Orders of the Night, Wind, and Flame are looking to assist him in his endeavors. ”
Evylin’s heart pattered traitorously. The danger was abundantly clear and frightening.
Should she leave the Alliance’s custody, she would be putting herself directly upon a path to be forced to Bond with Blount.
Even if he didn’t capture her on their journey to retrieve the Relics, they would have to face him eventually.
And yet, if she stayed in Mouroc, she was as good as taunting Blount to find her, to take her.
Unless . . .
The answer struck Evylin with its obviousness.
Evylin dropped Deckard’s hand, stepping forward, her mind made up. “Sir,” she said, drawing the archminister’s gaze, “I don’t believe you’ve asked my opinion on the matter.”
Fishere blinked, then let out a thin chuckle. “By Allore’s grace, you’re right. My sincerest apologies, Private Deckard. What is your opinion?”
Without letting herself question her decision, Evylin answered honestly. “I agree with you,” she said.
She felt Deckard approach from behind her. “Evie—”
She ignored him, continuing, “It is dangerous for me to continue this mission. Blount already has four Relics. Seeing him Bonded would secure our defeat. Though I would like to say I am brave enough to withstand his coercion, I don’t know what a century of torture might do to me.”
The words tasted bitter on her tongue, and she felt Deckard bristle. “But there is one course we haven’t considered,” she said.
“And what is that?” Fishere asked.
Evylin turned to Ilain. “Can an individual Bond with more than one person?”
Ilain’s nose scrunched instantly. “No,” she said as though Evylin had suggested a particularly heinous crime.
“Bonding is the picture of balance—one Mage with one Warrior, one of them male, the other female. It is unbreakable and indestructible. Even if a person wanted to, they couldn’t Bond a second time.
Not so long as their first partner lived. ”
With a nod, Evylin turned back to Fishere. “Then we have our solution,” she concluded. “Jonn and I will Bond.”
“Evylin!” Deckard’s voice landed like a hammer on an anvil as the rest of the room was filled with murmurs, both of approval and surprise.
Archminister Fishere’s eyes narrowed. “You’re asking to Bond with your husband?”
Before Evylin could reply, Deckard’s hand latched onto her arm. “Give us a moment, would you?” he said, then began tugging her down the aisle.
Evylin knew he’d be surprised. She’d even anticipated his frustration with her for making this decision on her own.
But in the end, she knew it was the only course left.
If it were between Bonding with Blount or Bonding with Deckard, there wasn’t a question in her mind of which she would prefer.
She loved Deckard. She intended to spend the rest of her days by his side.
And if taking such action ensured that future—if Bonding protected her from Blount and provided them both enough power to guarantee their success, to secure her husband’s safety—she would do it in a heartbeat.
But would Deckard?
He pulled her out of the hall and into the foyer, the low-burning lamps casting blue-purple shadows into the corners. The hum of surprised conversation still drifted to them as he released her. Immediately, he began to pace the tiled floor, then he stopped to face her.
“Evylin, you can’t be serious,” Deckard began, his brow pinched together in concern. “You know that once it’s done, there’s no going back.”