CHAPTER 40
A CALL TO ARMS
A pardon granted by the High Council is absolute. All charges are stricken from the record. Standing and reputation restored.
– Vallennan Judiciary Code, Article XXVII
They stood still in the training grounds, neither of them speaking. The letter still clutched in Kara’s hand. She stared at the words, absorbing them. People forged seals, faked letters. It could be a trick.
“Is this real?” she asked Sebastian.
“It’s my father’s hand. I have no doubt.”
They’ve pardoned us. They’ve actually pardoned us.
After everything, being hunted, called traitors, her trial, the pyre. And Sebastian had told her what they’d done to him, beaten him whilst he was bound, broken his ribs. He’d almost been killed saving her but now the Council had proof–
They want us to go back.
They had to return, Kara knew they had to. And just as that thought formed:
“Absolutely not.”
Kara’s gaze shot to Sebastian’s. “What–”
“I am not taking you back within the Council’s reach.” He shook his head vehemently. “They could change their minds and have you tied to a pyre before the sun sets.”
“We have to–” she began but he spoke over her, their bond hot with his resolve.
“No. My father, I trust. But the others...” He broke off, pure hatred on his face. “I won’t entrust your life to their hands, Kara, I won’t.”
She fell quiet, his words sinking in. Beneath the steel in him, she felt it – not just anger or hate, but terror. He would kill them all before he let them take her again. Kara understood. But Vallenna needed them. Believed them. This was what they had been fighting for.
“Then what are we going to do?”
“We stay here. Until the battle. We ride then, meet them there.” His hand found hers. “And not a day before.”
He flipped over the parchment and turned to Veyra, who had been listening quietly.
“Three or four weeks. Draknor will land,” he told her.
“Then we must be ready,” she said solemnly.
“Do you have something I can write with?” he asked.
Without a word she handed him a quill and ink from within her robes.
“Thanks,” he said, turning his attention back to the parchment and scrawling his reply on the back.
Father,
I will not risk Kara by leaving her to the whims of the Council.
The Arcanth is whole, and we will be ready.
We will meet you on the battlefield in three weeks.
Tell me where.
Sebastian
He secured the message and let the hawk go.
They watched it beat its wings against the night sky, carrying Sebastian’s refusal with it.
Kara’s throat tightened. The Council had offered Sebastian everything they’d taken from him – his name, his freedom – and he’d defied them, again, without hesitation, to keep her safe.
She laced her fingers through his. Whatever was coming, they would face the storm together.
Kara was certain of that. But as they walked back through the quiet streets, only one thought beat in her mind:
I might only have three weeks with him.
She knew he could feel her dread. It was thrumming loudly across the bond.
He felt the same, she could tell, but not as keenly.
Battle was something he was used to, what he was trained for.
It focused him – an enemy to fight. He was likely already thinking strategy, formations, tactics.
But for her, who’d spent most of her life healing behind the safety of Hale’s walls, it was utterly terrifying.
It was the day she might lose him creeping closer with every hour.
And yet... hadn’t she known this all along? That it would come to this? Words on parchment shouldn’t change anything. But they did.
It wasn’t until they were safely back in their house alone, and he had placed the satchel holding the Arcanth on the table by the hearth, that Sebastian spoke.
“Are you okay?”
She just wrapped her arms around herself and stared out the window. What good would it do to voice it. Saying the fear aloud wouldn’t change the truth of it. Three weeks.
She heard him sigh.
“I can tell you’re not. I can feel it,” he said, pointing to his chest. He stepped closer, ice-blue eyes fixed on hers. “Talk to me, Kara.”
She shook her head, but his hand caught hers, his grip unbreakable.
“Kara,” he said insistently. “Please.”
The dam broke.
“Three weeks,” she said, blinking back tears. “That’s all we might have. I can’t – Gods, Sebastian, I can’t stop thinking it’s not enough.”
He stared at her, weighing his words carefully. “I know what it’s like to march into a battle not knowing if you’ll come home. It’s... normal for me. Comes with the territory.” He smiled faintly. “But you–” He broke off, exhaling hard. “You make it different.”
Her heart actually hurt at the words, and he was quiet for a few moments. He cupped her face gently.
“I can’t promise forever, Kara,” he said. “But I swear – I’ll fight harder than I ever have.” He placed a soft kiss her forehead and her tears spilled over. “Because three weeks isn’t enough for me either.”
“I’ve never had to fight before. Not really, not until the fire temple. But I’ll fight now, Sebastian. With everything I have. We both have to survive this.”
Golden magic snaked out of her hand unbidden, and wrapped around his, as if it were a binding vow. He tugged her down to the bed.
“Come on, let’s get some sleep. We have training tomorrow.”
She cuddled into him, holding on with all her strength. Though her mind was busy circling, her body was exhausted. And his presence calmed her. Sleep found her within minutes.
The next morning, Veyra wasted no time.
“Good. Now again,” she ordered, circling them in the training ring.
Sebastian braced himself, watching Kara’s newest attempt.
Her brow furrowed in concentration. Palms outstretched, golden-yellow magic glimmering.
The ground shuddered. Roots shot upwards this time, clawing at his boots.
He cursed – then barked a laugh when the vines burst into blossoms, white petals drifting around his feet.
“Progress,” Veyra noted coolly.
Sebastian held out his hand. A ruby-gold shimmer flared into a shield, but this time it was no wider than Kara’s shoulders. It quivered, delicate as spun glass, then cracked. He let it vanish with a grunt. “That’s longer than yesterday.”
“A vast improvement,” Veyra agreed.
Kara looked at Veyra curiously. “We have your shield magic, but will we be able to see the future too? Like you can?”
Veyra considered her. “One day, perhaps. Your magic will open you to it, but the Sight takes years to master. You may get flashes, instincts. But if you tried to truly See, open yourself to prophecy without training, it would be chaos.” She studied them both, face serious.
“A thousand possibilities colliding at once. It could drive you mad.”
Sebastian frowned. “So we can’t use it for the battle.”
“No,” Veyra said in agreement. “It would make things more dangerous.”
Sebastian and Kara exchanged a glance. A mix of disappointment and relief.
“Then we fight with what we have,” Sebastian said.
Veyra nodded. “Precisely.”
Without meaning to, ice-white magic appeared at Sebastian’s hands and his mind brushed Kara’s in an instant. A single surface thought cut through him, desperate and unguarded:
I can’t lose him. Can’t watch him fall, I can’t–
He took a step back under the weight of it. Kara’s eyes darted to his. “You heard me?”
He swallowed down the hollow echo her fear had left and forced a smirk. “Looks like you bonded to a Caldris after all. Can’t keep your thoughts to yourself now.”
Kara rolled her eyes, colour rising in her cheeks. “Ha, ha. Very funny.”
But her gaze lingered on him a little too long. Sebastian turned sharply, heat crawling under his skin. He couldn’t think about that. He needed movement. Distraction.
I need to train.
He drew his sword with more force than necessary, then snatched a training blade and held it out to her.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Kara asked, bewildered, grabbing the hilt. Crimson lit her arm but Sebastian didn’t think she’d called for it.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Fight me with it?”
“What? No, I was joking yesterday–”
“You’ve got the power,” Sebastian said, “but strength without technique is useless. Once they see we have Arcanth magic, we’ll be a target–”
“Sebastian, I don’t think–”
“Damn it, Kara! Do you want to survive this or not?” he snapped, his own crimson flaring.
She stepped back, hurt flashing across her face.
I didn’t mean–
Fuck. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.
He took a deep breath. Forced down the fire in him. “I’m sorry, Kara. I don’t want you fighting – you know I don’t. But we don’t have a choice. I need to know you’re protected. That you can defend yourself in close quarters.”
“He speaks the truth,” Veyra said.
Kara hesitated, before saying reluctantly, “Fine.”
I just want you safe, Kara.
Sebastian dropped into a guard and lifted his blade. “Like this, see?”
He watched as she mirrored him. It was a strange sight, his healer with a sword in hand – but necessary. He let his blade fall towards her in a slow arc. She blocked it cleanly.
“Nicely done,” he complimented her. “Again.”
He demonstrated the basics and form by form, he drilled her.
To his surprise she picked them up quickly, her strikes sharp enough with her crimson to make his arms tingle.
Like she’d done it before. He could heal without study – so they knew some knowledge had been shared when they bonded – perhaps Kara had gotten some of his skill with a sword.
But she was holding back. Their blades clashed again, but at the last instant, Kara faltered, her blade veering aside instead of landing true.
“You pulled it,” Sebastian growled. He pushed his blade into hers, knocking her back a step.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she shot back, frustrated.
“Imagine I’m a Draken. Because they won’t hesitate.”
She nodded once. Before he could defend, her blade had come down on his shoulder with a sharp crack. It sliced clean into his skin.