Chapter 33 #2
Beserkir nodded gently, his expression back under control even though his face remained distinctively peaky.
“You’re right, we have people searching the archives as we speak.
I was just too intrigued to resist asking.
It’s not every day you get to meet an immortal.
But you’re right, my friends would be quite displeased if I wasted this opportunity satisfying my own curiosity. ”
“Are these your friends in the North?” Keeran asked, with a predatory tilt to his head. “You seem a little too keen to impress them, which makes me think they’re not your friends at all. Do they have you by the short and curlies, Beserkir?”
“Oh, you’ll be sure to meet them soon enough, so you can see for yourself just how friendly they are.
But I want to get as much out of you as I can before they whisk you away.
” Beserkir came a little nearer, leaning so close that Keeran could see past the bravado, could see the dilated pupils and the quickening of his pulse where it beat in his throat.
“So, tell me, Keeran, how many others are there?”
Keeran didn’t get a chance to answer. The door opened, slowly, one grating inch at a time. Beserkir straightened with a sigh, clearly not expecting an interruption.
The sigh died on his lips when Aelia slipped through the open door.
Keeran didn’t waste a second.
He threw himself back into the chair, heaving all his bodyweight back into the weakness he’d found earlier.
It splintered with a crack, and Keeran caught himself, crouching as he strained with his arms to shatter what remained of the wood.
In a matter of seconds, he was free of the chair, his chains swinging loosely.
It made no difference.
Beserkir was a man used to battle, a warrior to his core, and Keeran had barely managed to straighten before he was kicked viciously to the floor. Beserkir stood one foot on his chained hands and wrenched Keeran’s head back, holding a dagger to his throat hard enough to draw blood.
Aelia froze, halted mid-stride in her run to make it to him.
“That’s it. Stay right there unless you want a repeat of the Fenrir incident,” Beserkir drawled, seeming immensely pleased with himself. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“The pleasure is all yours,” Aelia spat.
“Aelia, run,” Keeran shouted. If she would just leave, he could remove Beserkir from her life for good.
One brush of his magic and Beserkir would be ash, but he’d already lied to her so much.
What would she make of the fire magic that made him even more of a monster than she could ever fathom? “Run!”
“But she only just joined the party?” Beserkir crooned.
“Oh, I appear to have been caught in my lie. How uncivilised of me. I can only apologise, Keeran. I couldn’t think of another way of keeping your leash nice and tight.
My only defence is that it was only half a lie.
See, I knew she was in the Inner City, I just wasn’t quite sure where.
I was damn sure she’d make her way here, though, and I just couldn’t miss the opportunity to be here when she did. ”
As if by silent command, Shiva stepped into the room. His hands were buried in his pockets, as though he were strolling into a tavern, not into a prison cell with a known Dragon. Keeran’s lip curled back in a guttural snarl, despite the blade still pressed to his throat.
“No, it’s okay, he’s…” Aelia trailed off as Shiva strolled straight past her, crossing to stand next to Beserkir. Keeran watched the heartbreak roll over her, and it was all too easy for him to work out what had happened. “You… you bastard!”
“You did well.” Keeran heard Beserkir say from behind him, his hand still fisted in his hair. “Did all go to plan?”
“Yes, sir, other than the explosion. But she wouldn’t be dissuaded, and I couldn’t risk arresting her at that point in case I triggered another outburst of magic.”
“You got her here, that’s all I care about.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Everything you said… was a lie?” Aelia said, her voice deathly quiet.
“A hundred gold coins were well worth a bit of acting,” Shiva leant closer to her, conspiratorially. “One might say I gave it my best shot.”
Aelia’s lips parted, a frown flicking over her brow as Shiva’s words hit home.
The pair bond flared to life and a wall of devastation slammed into him, the hurt of Shiva’s betrayal enough to make his eyes water.
But there was something on the other end of it, burning and bright and ruinous.
Keeran’s jaw slackened as he saw the black ring in Aelia’s eyes turn bright silver.
“Guards,” Beserkir roared.
A wall of a dozen soldiers flooded into the room, blocking Aelia from the exit. Some held swords aloft, some had arrows nocked and ready. Her eyes met Keeran’s, and the raw power in them sent a bolt of ice through his heart.
He felt it surge through the pair bond, the only warning he had that she was about to lose control again.
Keeran reacted on pure instinct, unleashing his fire magic with a snap of his will and sending it roaring over himself in a flaming cocoon.
The weight of Beserkir pressed into him, regrettably close enough to be enveloped within the shield, and his screams vibrated painfully in Keeran’s ear.
He felt the barrage of Aelia’s magic against his own, rageful but uncontrolled.
All he could do was lie there and grit his teeth as he shielded himself from her wrath.
He felt her magic start to wane, both against his wall of fire and through the bond. The instant it vanished completely, he withdrew the fire magic and unclenched his eyes. He shoved Beserkir off and rolled himself to his feet in one rapid movement. He needn’t have bothered, Beserkir was out cold.
Keeran snapped his eyes up to Aelia. She still stood by the door, swaying slightly. Her gaze raked across the bodies that surrounded her, mangled past the point of recognition. Keeran had seen some pretty disturbing things in his time, but this made even his stomach roil.
Only Beserkir had been spared her unique brand of death, but Aelia hardly seemed to notice.
He reached for her through the pair bond, nearly sagging with relief when he felt it still intact.
He sank into her mind, feeling the turmoil she was suffocating in.
She felt so fragile, like her sanity was on the brink of shattering.
She latched onto him, and he wrapped his presence around her, wishing he could shield her from all she was feeling.
“What’s happening to me?” she whispered, sounding so broken he knew he needed to get her out of there. Now.
“I don’t know,” he said truthfully.
“I can’t control it,” she spoke to him through the pair bond, a brush of her lips against his mind. He nearly closed his eyes at the sweetness of it, the delicious purity of her mental touch.
“Let me get you out of here.” Keeran jangled the manacles. “And we’ll work it out, okay?”
Aelia stared vacantly at the body of Shiva, barely recognisable now.
“I didn’t kill you.” Her eyes flitted back up to him, a slight frown creasing her brow.
“No, you didn’t.” He smiled grimly, relieved the blinding light of her own magic had prevented her from seeing his. “Now I need you to get the keys. Check Beserkir’s pockets.”
She glanced at the manacles still fixing him to the floor and nodded.
Her legs wobbled beneath her as she crossed the room, but she made it to Beserkir before she let them fail her.
Keeran winced as her knees struck the stone, but Aelia hardly seemed to notice.
She started patting him down, pulling items from various pockets until he heard the sweet jangle of keys.
She hauled herself to her feet and fumbled with the keys until she found one that fit.
The clunk of it turning in the lock of his manacles was pure bliss.
He shook his wrists and ankles free and spun to face Aelia, his hands hovering over her head, her neck, her arms, as he checked every inch of her.
She didn’t move, but her eyes were locked onto him, as though he were the anchor in the storm he could still feel raging in her mind.
He threw his arms around her and pulled her close, wrapping his mind around hers as tightly as his arms. She hugged him tight, burying herself into him, body and soul.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her hair, pressing his lips against her over and over again. She’d lost Fenrir, Shiva had tricked her, and whatever magic had awakened in her had wrung her out to the point of collapse. He had to get her out of here.