by Beth Alvarez
“Yet she bore your child.”
“An accident, I assure you.” He frowned at her. “Your mages were the ones who swore I couldn’t father children.”
“But you can.” She moved closer, her brow furrowed with thought. Her eyes traveled over him and a new light sparked in her eyes. “Heirs for you would be heirs of magic. A new bloodline ruling Ilmenhith, supplying my temple with unfettered mages. An interesting possibility for the island’s future.”
“And healthy connections with the mainland means spreading that influence,” Rune said. “Every king seeks to expand their power by marrying their children off into high-born places. Vicamros owes me his life several times over. The alliance with the Triad could be reinforced with blood. The Grand College answers to that crown.”
Envesi nodded slowly and touched a claw to her lips. “A much easier method of keeping them under control than using brute force. Although time consuming. I cannot wait for you to produce offspring and marry them off.”
“As I said, Vicamros owes me his life. I think that, coupled with Elenhiise being his most valuable ally, will give me leverage.” Rune smirked. “Not to mention how I’ve served on his council alongside the mages he’ll likely want in charge, if you surrender control of the college now.”
Puzzled, she studied him as if seeing him for the first time. “It seems you’re far more cunning than I ever gave you credit.”
“I was raised to rule,” was all he said.
The corner of her mouth twitched and for a single moment, the look in her eyes was almost that of respect. “Wait here.”
Rune sank into the throne and made himself comfortable as he watched her go. When his gaze drifted back to the handful of mages waiting before him, the disgust and loathing on their faces made him start.
Unsure who was watching, he lowered his voice to the most nettling tone he could manage. “You have a job to do. Take the girl to her mother and then you can think whatever you want of me.”
Temar started to speak, but Kytenia raised her hand to keep her silent. The court Master lowered her eyes.
The second pinprick of power in Rune’s senses moved. It joined Envesi’s presence, the two signatures so close together they became difficult to distinguish. He closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. “They’re coming.”
Kytenia’s face softened. “Rune—”
“Take the girl and report to your mistress,” he growled. “I won’t discuss this again.”
Crestfallen, she looked away.
They emerged onto the walkway above the throne and Rune turned to look. Envesi made her way down the stairs, a plump figure with a small shadow at her side close at the mage’s heels.
Despite how many times he’d told himself he was ready for this, his pulse quickened.
“The girl’s nursemaid insists on going with her,” Envesi sighed and rolled her eyes as if this were a grand inconvenience.
Rune raised a brow. Nursemaid hardly fit the description of the woman beside her. Vivenne was a noblewoman, through and through. “Let her. A member of her staff in a foreign country will be a gift I’m sure Firal will welcome.”
Envesi stopped at the bottom of the stairs and waved Vivenne on. “Get on with it, then. Take her to the mages.”
“A moment.” Rune stood. The air rippled as Envesi seized the flows around her, clearly expecting betrayal. He motioned for her to calm down. “I was told she inherited my eyes. I wanted to see. I don’t expect I’ll have another chance.”
Envesi’s jaw tightened. She didn’t protest, but she didn’t let go of her magic, either.
Rune crept closer. The child’s presence stirred something in him. Awareness of her Gift crawled over his skin like nothing he’d ever felt, even with the Alda’anan. It whined in his head like the vibrations of a bell, resonating with his power, threatening to suck him in.
Rune beckoned Vivenne near, though he did not look her way, as if she were any other servant. He didn’t need to look at her to know she glowered as deeply as Temar and the others behind him. She neared, and he sank to a crouch as she drew the girl around for him to see.
The portrait he’d seen looked nothing like her. It had depicted a waif with smooth hair and sorrowful eyes.
The girl in front of him was tiny, but far from waifish. Her cheeks were round and rosy, her limbs healthily plump. Black curls rioted around her little head and serious, thoughtful eyes gazed at him from beneath delicate brows.
His eyes. Rich, vibrant violet, as expressive as they were deep. They betrayed an awareness and intelligence he’d never seen in a child before. His heart threatened to choke him. No matter what he’d thought before, all the doubts he’d had scattered like leaves before a driving wind.
“Lulu,” Rune whispered before he could stop himself. The name left his lips like the most tender caress.
Her face brightened.
He looked away. “I expected she’d be larger, given her age. All this fuss. She’s only a baby.”
“Wild magic does strange things,” Envesi said. “I suspect you only grew at the rate you did because you weren’t born with it. Even after we woke it, we kept your power controlled for so many years.”
“Well, it’ll make little difference in the Triad. The barrier was designed by the Alda’anan and works just as well against mages like us.” He rose, straightened his spine, and leveled a commanding look with the mages. “Take her. My end of the bargain is fulfilled.”
Kytenia slid forward to take the girl’s hand and herd both Vivenne and the child away from the dais.
Rune returned to the throne and touched the sapphire at its top again. “I commissioned a crown while I was here. I expected to work my way to power once I returned, I just didn’t think it would be this fast. Has it arrived?”
Envesi waved a hand in dismissal. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t have time to manage the staff.”
Which explained why there wasn’t any. He sighed, then turned when magic pricked at him. The mages linked and wove a Gate back to the parlor in the Royal City.
None of the mages looked back as they ushered Lulu and her self-appointed nursemaid toward the portal. The strange resonance of her Gift winked out, leaving an empty echo in his senses.
“I’ll need to collect the staff from wherever they’ve gone.” Rune turned back to Envesi as the mages filed through and the Gate closed. “There are celebrations to plan. I’ll want a coronation. My father never gave me one.”
She chuckled darkly at that. “You’ll need a new cabinet, as well. I’m afraid most of those who were a part of the royal council are no longer present.”
“As if I’d want any of them to be included,” he muttered. “They were as eager to see me hang as anyone. Even those who knew who I was.”
“I always intended you to rule, you know.” Envesi strode closer, relaxed now that the mages were gone. “It was why I put you here. If I was to be queen, I was determined to set up an ideal monarchy. A country ruled by mages. A place where our best interests were held at heart.”
“It won’t be easy to build. There’s a great deal of damage to repair.”
“Or we can simply wipe the slate clean and start over.” She looked up at him with a wistful gleam in her eyes. “It never should have happened like this. You should have been honored. Revered. Though I suppose I’m as much at fault for that as anyone.”
Rune raised a brow. “It’s not like you to admit error.”
“I’ve learned.” She reached up, grasped his jaw in one hand, and turned his face so she could study it. “You always were my greatest masterpiece. Countless hours of study and research. Your body meticulously crafted with perfect symmetry, your face sculpted to a perfect mathematical standard. It served me right that you always sought to ruin it.” She clicked her tongue and flicked one of the silver rings in his ear.
He adjusted the jewelry with a clawed fingertip. “I’m not the only one, you know. Cross enough people and it seems they all wish to take a c
hunk out of you. Quite a few of them succeeded.”
“Even so,” Envesi murmured, turning his face to look at him again. “It seems you turned out better than I ever imagined. Beautiful, still, in all your imperfections. Now you’ll sire the next generation of perfect mages. And I...” She trailed a single claw down his jaw to take hold of his collar, a glimmer in her eye. “I will bear them for you.”
She dragged him down and kissed him with a forceful passion, her tongue coiling hungrily in his mouth.
Rune closed his eyes. His pulse roared like thunder in his ears. His hands beckoned her closer and she was too eager to oblige. Her body pressed close, warm and malleable, and she draped her arms around his neck as her hips tilted against his. He kissed her back and cradled her close.
A dagger slid from his sleeve and he jammed it between her ribs.
Her entire body went rigid and she sucked in a breath. A black cascade poured down the side of her white gown and for an instant, he thought she would wither and die right there.
Then she screamed, long and agonizing, and the entire palace seemed to shudder beneath the swell of her power.
A hair’s breadth too low. Spitting a curse, he twisted the dagger free and pulled his hand back to strike again.
He didn’t get the chance.
Her magic struck like a tsunami and flung him backwards as the air currents stirred to a hurricane. Banners whipped wildly in the howling wind, Envesi’s screams of pain and blind fury tearing at him from every direction. She fell to her knees, her white-scaled hands clamped over the wound in her side. Crimson light and impossible blackness filled her eyes.
Waves of power beat against him and drove him to his knees. Rune gritted his teeth as his claws scrabbled against the cold stone. The dagger was useless now. He cast it aside and struggled to find his feet. His hair lashed his face and eyes and he blinked hard against the sting.
Snaring a flow of air, he wrapped it around himself like a shield, creating a bubble of stillness in the middle of the storm. His power was limited. He had to make it count.
Training his eyes on Envesi’s kneeling form, he reached for her ties to the magic coursing around them. Finding one thread among the torrent was like trying to free a single hair from a pile of sheep’s wool and already, he felt the twinge of pain that meant he was overstepping the seal’s bounds.
She moved. Against all reason and plausibility, she dragged herself to her feet. Black ichor still flowed from beneath her hand, but already the stream was lessened.
Rune’s heart skipped a beat and panic crashed over him.
She was healing.
“How dare you!” Envesi screamed, pitch black consuming all the color of her eyes. She took a step. “I made you! I own you! I created you for me!”
“Magic created me,” he spat back. “It can never be owned and never controlled.” A tendril of energy touched her wound, flowing from somewhere else. His eyes snapped to the top of the stairs and the sight of the unfamiliar mages gave him an odd sense of relief.
She was healing, but she wasn’t doing it alone. The mages on the stairs were linked. They funneled power into mending their Archmage as they approached. A pack of armed men appeared behind them and pushed them aside to rush down the stairs. Ennil Tanrys was at their front.
Rune snarled. He should have known.
Desperate, he tried to catch hold of Envesi’s life force. If he couldn’t kill her with a dagger, magic was the next best thing.
Warning pangs pulsed in his head as he hit his limit. He gasped and dropped the thread of air that formed his shield.
Pain radiated through his body, knotted his stomach and rang in his skull. He gripped his head in both hands and dug claws into his scalp.
Focus. He pressed the silver stud in his tongue against the roof of his mouth, grounding himself the way the Alda’anan had taught. The gale around him slipped beyond his awareness.
He caught the edge of her essence and wrapped his power around it.
Envesi’s eyes widened and she went pale.
With everything in him, he tore at her existence.
Her knees buckled and again she fell. For a second, her very being seemed to waver. Then her attention turned inward, toward the unseen war of their magic, and the tide turned.
Like choking vines, tendrils of her power wrapped around his and shook his grasp loose. In an instant, her strength returned. She clamped down harder and followed his strength to its source.
Rune struggled against it, desperate to stave it off.
He couldn’t.
Shadow surged through the connection, flooding his awareness, blotting out his vision and leaving him gasping for breath. Overwhelmed, he couldn’t stop her from seizing control. He’d opened himself to magic in his desperation. Now she turned that connection against him and twisted his power against his will. Alone, her only chance of defeating him was to unmake him as she’d done the others.
He braced for the pain he knew had to come with his body and soul being torn apart. But it didn’t come and, as she began to draw through him, he understood. She meant to make him suffer, burn him out of existence by wielding his own power against him.
Too fast she pulled, sucking flows through his body until his head spun. She hit the limit and the seal on his power lit like a wildfire within him. Pain surged through every nerve, filling him from head to talon-tipped toe.
Screaming through clenched teeth, he collapsed onto the floor.
And then it stopped.
Shuddering, his stomach heaving, Rune quivered on the cold stone.
Envesi released her hold of magic and turned him free. “You’ve been blocked.” Her tone was oddly conversational, hovering on the verge of delighted. “Your power locked away, and you still thought to challenge me?”
He tried to open his eyes, but everything swam. He groaned and lay still, gasping for breath. The pain had ceased but its aftermath remained, his muscles spasming and his stomach trying fiercely to empty itself. The scent of blood hung heavy in his nostrils and he wasn’t sure who it belonged to.
“No,” she sneered, “I can’t laugh at you. After all, I am the one who still fell for it.”
And if the mages swarming around her now hadn’t felt the start of their battle and come running, he would have succeeded. Rune bit his tongue to keep silent. He’d never expected to overpower her, but he had thought it would be enough to plant a knife in her side and prepare for the backlash. To force her to exhaust herself in killing him while she bled out.
“Do you wish me to finish it?” Ennil’s voice above him came accompanied by the rasp of a sword being drawn.
Envesi made a soft, thoughtful sound. “No. He’s useful yet. We’ll need to retrieve the girl, as well as her parents. Put him in the dungeons. One of my mages will keep watch and ensure he doesn’t recover enough to use his Gift as a means to escape.”
The sword returned to its sheath and strong hands grasped Rune by the arms.
The dungeons. It seemed all of his life was to run in cycles. In spite of everything, he almost laughed.
19
Oaths
The rings clinked together in the palm of Firal’s hand as she ran a finger over the purple-red stone. It tilted so the star flashed in the light. She thought she’d never see it again. After all this time, learning Rune had it—that he’d kept it and worn it—was more painful than believing she’d lost it all those years ago.
She almost wished he’d taken it with him to his grave.
Tears filled her eyes again. She blinked hard and bowed her head. Vahn had tried to offer comfort, but she shunned his efforts. She couldn’t bear to have her husband soothe her while she cried for another man.
She didn’t want to cry for him. She wanted to be angry, to hate him as much as she told herself she did, to tell herself he deserved his fate and believe it. It had been easier when she thought he’d abandoned her, or maybe even died in his effort to escape. Between the rings in her hands and the tea
rs in her eyes, she was saddled with the truth, and it chafed.
After all these years, she still loved him.
And unlike her, he’d never given up. Rune had carried their rings, the only remaining symbol of their marriage, for all those years. All without ever breathing a word. So many times Firal thought him a coward and a quitter. Now she couldn’t fathom what sort of courage it took to live with that kind of hope, only to swallow it when he’d discovered her wed to someone else.
Looking back, Firal saw his behavior for what it was. An effort to drive her away, make himself undesirable and eliminate himself from her life. She should have known better. He’d done it before. And both times, like a fool, she’d taken the hateful things he said at face value.
The mages in the next room stirred and exclamations of surprise filtered through the open doorway. Firal wiped her eyes and blinked until she could see the slow-gyrating armillary clearly. A Gate opened in the next room and against all reason, a surge of hope filled her chest.
“Firal,” Vahn called from the doorway. He stopped when he saw she was already on her feet. She hurried to join him as the mages gathered around the Gate.
All of them seized power and braced for the possibility that whoever emerged wouldn’t be friendly. The barrier would protect them from a magic assault, but it would do nothing against weapons.
As if she stepped from the wall, Anaide appeared. Her face was pinched and white, but she turned back and looked expectantly at the empty space behind her.
The next figure to emerge made Firal’s tears flow anew.
“Mama!” Lulu squealed, bolting away from the rest of her escort and flinging herself into her mother’s arms.
Firal fell to the floor, squeezed the girl tight and sobbed into her ebony ringlets. Lulu clung to Firal’s neck and tucked her face beneath her mother’s jaw.
