Chapter 12 #2
Aeliana’s heart picked up its pace, the throb echoing in her ears. She didn’t have Sylmar or Kendalyhn’s ability to sift the truth of someone’s words, but something about Brogdon felt off. Maybe she’d never be able to trust him. Maybe that wasn’t fair.
“I don’t remember any soldiers by those names,” Velden said. “But I haven’t met them all.”
“No.” Aeliana kept her gaze on Brogdon. “They were in her research notes. I haven’t met them either. Maybe they are dead. But they were the two she trusted with the winex, besides Brogdon. They all knew the most.”
Brogdon’s laugh came out forced. “They were a strange pair, talking more in grunts than words. They liked the cold dungeon. If they lived and if you find them, you probably won’t get anything out of them anyway.”
Something about his casual manner, the perfect way the words could be true even if they weren’t, didn’t sit right with Aeliana. She stepped closer before removing the table leg from his hands.
Brogdon looked up at her but couldn’t hold her gaze for long.
She flipped his hand over, running a finger along his brand.
She felt sick looking at the black circle, the way it reflected Mayvus’ experience in doing brands, how she could get it so perfectly shaped.
Aeliana’s own brand mark on her right palm throbbed, and she swore she sensed Durriken’s own distaste, like bitter herbs in the back of her throat.
“Who comes to check your brand these days? To verify that it’s no longer active?”
Brogdon licked his lips, his gaze flicking to Velden.
“It was me,” Velden admitted. “I sifted for the truth of the present, but he was always honest. He hadn’t sensed Mayvus at all.”
“But you don’t do it anymore?” Aeliana let Brogdon’s hand drop and turned back to Velden, who shrugged.
“We found her remains in the cave. There was no need.”
Aeliana gritted her teeth. “Can you please sift him now?” The request burned, partly because she hated the way they were all so content to believe what they wanted, but mostly because she disliked this kind of invasive magic.
“I haven’t felt her presence since the dragon took her,” Brogdon said. “He’s welcome to test me, but I know she’s gone. I’m just not ready to face people. Not after what I’ve done.”
The guilt in his words resonated with her, and she almost called Velden off. But she hesitated, afraid they might all miss the tiniest of clues. “It’s just a formality, Brogdon. If you don’t sense her, there’s nothing to fear.”
She stepped aside, allowing Velden to grasp Brogdon’s hand. It would only take a moment to be sure. Knowing they were safe was worth temporarily invading Brogdon’s thoughts, right? Especially since he’d allowed it.
The moment Velden’s fingers touched Brogdon’s, Brogdon brought his head against Velden’s with a sickening crack.
As Velden crumpled to the floor, Brogdon turned to Aeliana.
Her starlock warmed against her skin, and the light exploded around her without a second thought, forming a shield to block him.
The thinness of it shocked her, and in the back of her mind she registered that Sylmar would be gravely disappointed.
Shouts from the corridor made it clear she wouldn’t be fighting this battle alone for long. If she could just hold him off long enough, if they could just get enough people in here to tie him down and cut out the brand mark…
Her light flickered when Brogdon backed away and crouched, bringing a carving tool up to Velden’s neck. He dragged her poor unconscious friend closer, and while neither of them were overly large, it was clear he was using magic when he pulled Velden up like a doll.
What was his spoke? She wracked her brain, trying to remember if he was somatic or if he might be using blood magic. Did it even matter at this point? The risk to Velden was the same, and the solution still required cutting out Brogdon’s brand mark.
“Guess you should’ve had him keep checking my brand, huh?” Brogdon’s eyes drifted wildly between the door to his chambers and Aeliana.
“How long?” Aeliana asked. “When was she strong enough to control you?”
“Long enough. And it won’t be much longer for you.
” Brogdon pulled Velden closer, but when the tip of his tool dug into Velden’s neck, Velden’s eyes flew open.
Water gushed from his hands, momentarily enveloping Brogdon’s face.
As Brogdon sputtered and shook Velden off, a blast of air swept through the room, taking the water out the window with it.
It brought back memories of the wind Mayvus had used to push Aeliana across the balcony, wind she’d likely stolen from Brogdon through his brand.
Aeliana shook off the memory, but by now the men were locked in chokeholds, both their faces turning purple as they rolled around the room. Other soldiers flooded in from the hall, and despite the bursts of wind knocking them down, their numbers were too great for Brogdon to get the upper hand.
He screeched as Velden used a dagger to cut out his brand, and Aeliana winced both at the sight and the scent of blood.
It no longer called to her the way it once had, but it was a constant reminder of the pull it could have.
Her mind even strayed to the way it had done good when she’d branded Durriken.
Enslaving one beast had freed hundreds of people.
She shoved the thought aside.
Velden pulled seaweed from his pouch, letting water from his hands soak it until he could wrap it around Brogdon’s hand. The other man wept, curling into a ball, his entire body shaking. Velden’s voice grew low as he bent closer, but Brogdon flinched when Velden’s hand patted his back.
Most of the other soldiers shifted uncomfortably, eyeing the door before slowly making their exits.
“Send for Sylmar,” Aeliana whispered to one before he could leave.
With the room less crowded, she made her way to Brogdon’s side, his whimpers now becoming more intelligible.
“I should have known. I should have…” He rocked and groaned again. “Kill me now. It’s safer. Please.”
Aeliana kneeled down but didn’t touch Brogdon.
“You’re safe now. Velden cut out your brand.
Now you’re like me. You’re free.” She held up her scarred right palm.
The lines from Arvid and Vera stood out, but there was also a jagged pockmark above Durriken’s brand, the remnant of the brand mark Mayvus had placed on her, cut out by Gaeren.
It felt like ages ago, but as she relived it now with Brogdon, it could have been hours.
“Never free…” he moaned again, but this time his shuddering ceased.
“Please, Brogdon. I know it’s a lot, but I need you to tell me what you know.”
“She’s alive.”
The words were cold, absent of feeling, and they stirred up all sorts of terror in Aeliana’s chest.
“What more do you need to know? Mayvus is alive, and she’ll come for us all.”
Footsteps pounded from the hall, and Aeliana stood, more than willing to let Sylmar finish the interrogation. Because Brogdon was right. What else mattered besides the terrifying truth that Mayvus was alive?