Burning Blood: Bonds of Blood: Book 2

by Daniel De Lorne

He sat on the flat stone at the dolmen’s base. It served as Loic’s seat, worn smooth over forty years. His skin shrank at the touch of the cool, polished rock. Once settled and acclimatized, he looked out at the oaks and closed his eyes, seeking a vision.

  Minutes passed.

  Nothing.

  He shut his eyelids tighter before remembering what Loic had said about relaxing, that too much concentration was counterproductive. He breathed, unwound, and turned his focus inward, away from the sashaying of the leaves and chirruping of insects.

  The deeper he went the lighter he became, going up while going down. This mental exercise had been one of the first things Loic had taught him. The oracle’s delight at seeing him so quickly take to it had been one of the happiest moments of his life. Instead of the fear and worry in his parents’ eyes, he was praised for what came almost naturally. His pride had bloomed.

  Only to shrivel.

  He snatched his mind free of that nettle patch. He drifted into the trance-state, ready to find that which hid from normal sight, and learn why Aurelia was now so prominent in his thoughts.

  An image of her formed in his head, her hair darker than the night, her eyes as green as new leaves in spring. She was younger than his twenty-four years, but she was already a woman, with a surety about her that was unlike anything he’d seen. Not that he met many people, and certainly none like her.

  With her face fixed in his mind, he groped for the veil between his ordinary daydreams and the visions. Loic told him it was like parting a waterfall. He had to reach into the crashing flow with both hands and create a curtain to walk through. Gloom and darkness lay beyond but in there he would find treasure.

  But no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get to the other side. Aurelia was merely a figment.

  And he was useless.

  He tumbled beneath the pounding water. His chest stretched tight, as he grew desperate to break free and gasp air. Even when he surfaced, the failure hammered inside his ribcage. His eyes snapped open, and he roared until his throat bled.

  “Eat something,” Hame said. “You’re not well.”

  Loic rocked on his stool, his food untouched. “Do not command me, boy,” he barked, and continued rocking.

  Hame rapped his spoon on the table. Loic was hardly ever sick, and when he was, it was usually only a sniffle. This? Whatever it was, it burrowed deep, affecting Loic’s mind as well as his body. In little more than a day, Hame barely recognized him. His tanned skin was now sallow, and his cheeks—which were usually full and puffed up with good humor—sagged. Deep purple bruises spread beneath his eyes, and his body curled in on itself.

  But it was the sounds that came out of Loic’s mouth that set Hame most on edge. Whispers, barks, and mutterings, sharp and slurred, exclamations at any time of the day or night; each sound tightened the muscles in the back of his neck.

  In twelve years of living with Loic, he’d never been like this.

  Hame let his spoon fall and pushed away from the table. He came around to kneel beside Loic, then took the man’s head in his hands. His skin was clammy, the touch of it making Hame’s stomach churn.

  Loic struggled, tried to push him away, but he wasn’t strong enough. Instead he reared back, but Hame rose with him and didn’t let go. Free of the table, he positioned himself in front of his tutor’s face. Loic’s grey eyes didn’t rest, and instead shifted from left to right. If he could get Loic to focus on him, then maybe he could figure out what was wrong.

  Suddenly, the oracle’s eyes centered. Hame breathed easy, but his breath halted when he saw them turn black and ringed with crimson. He released Loic, as if he’d been burned. The oracle’s eyes returned to how they’d been before, shifting but not seeing, and he shuffled away to his bed. He lay down, faced the wall, and muttered.

  Hame didn’t move.

  What lived inside Loic’s head?

  The oracle once said possession happened to fools who weren’t smart enough to shield themselves. If they took the proper precautions on the astral, they would be safe.

  Loic was no novice. Maybe he was mistaken in what he’d seen. It could have been a vision made flesh. Maybe he was seeing what Loic saw while in a waking trance.

  But the sucking void in his gut told him the awful truth. There was another being in Loic intent on destruction. If he were in control of his ability, he could try reaching into Loic’s mind and banish whatever festered inside. But he was a failed oracle.

  Loic’s muttering slowed, dropped to barely a whisper. Moving closer, Hame could make out a phrase Loic repeated as it gained strength and clarity. He reached out a trembling hand and touched his tutor’s shoulder.

  Loic spun, latched on to his wrist, and pulled himself up. Desperation flared in eyes that Hame recognized.

  “Get Elaine!”

  Then Loic passed out.

  Hame shook him, growing ever rougher and more frantic, but Loic didn’t wake. He slumped on the edge of the bed, resting his hand on Loic’s chest as it rose and fell in sputtered gasps.

  The knowledge crashed down on him that his teacher—his friend—was going to die because of his uselessness. The only way he knew how to reach Elaine was by touching her mind, as Loic was sometimes able to do, but it was something he’d never attempted.

  Yet looking down at Loic’s unconscious and twisted figure, he had to try.

  And he had to succeed.

  VIII

  Despite the comfort of a real bed and the exertion of the day before, Aurelia woke feeling like she’d only slept a couple hours. The softness of the mattress would take some getting used to; she’d spent most of the night tossing and turning. Her door remained closed, but a frost seeped through the cracks. Rather than face the ice, she stayed in her room, working through old exercises her mother had taught her. She played with her favorite spells of summoning fire and sending lightning between her hands. She tested the limits of her control, seeing how long she could sustain the flow, and all the while conscious of the chill creeping into her bones. Eventually, deep cracks boomed within her and she hurried out for fresh air.

  She rushed through the tunnel, blindness giving way to the blessed sight of the mountains in daylight. She expelled stale breath and inhaled a crisp freshness that sparked up and down her body. It resembled nothing like Carcassonne’s oppressive stench. She sat on the edge of the cliff with her feet dangling over the precipice. Before her towered white-haired guardians. Below lay grass-covered valleys and an azure lake. She spied not a soul, neither human nor animal, on this clear day.

  If only her mind were so clear.

  At least here she could breathe and try to order her thoughts. If Elaine didn’t speak to her, how could she be expected to help? Guilt scalded her throat. She thought she was being strong and looking after herself, but there she was, sitting alone and avoiding her mother.

  Elaine had been the goal all along, a promise whispered. But she’d misunderstood. Her mother hadn’t just wanted a daughter; she’d needed an ally. And that meant compromise. But it didn’t mean there couldn’t be love.

  Aurelia.

  Her body tensed at the sound of her name. She turned her head, thinking Elaine had come for her, but she wasn’t there. She frowned, then slowly swiveled back to the open air.

  “Must have been the wind,” she said aloud to reassure herself, but her body didn’t unwind. She searched the sky.

  Aurelia!

  A man’s voice rocked her. She couldn’t deny hearing it that time. Needles pierced her veins. Xadrak! She scurried back from the edge.

  AURELIA!

  It came again and her head rattled with his desperation, but it wasn’t Xadrak’s. The voice was younger than Henri’s and lacked the hate and evil she’d felt from the demon.

  Fighting her panic, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths. She tensed, waiting for another call, but when one didn’t come, she forced herself to calm. Laying down a ring of protection she hoped would repel malevolent spirits, she opened her
mind.

  Words and images flooded into her, but she held firm against the torrent. The more she panicked, the less she received, so against her common sense, she relaxed and let it flow through her.

  Bare seconds passed before the voice faded, dissipating in mid-thought, but she’d seen enough. Opening her eyes, she ran inside, shouting for her mother.

  Her calls brought Elaine flying into the chamber. “What’s the matter?”

  “Your oracle. We need to go to him.” She pulled her mother towards the tunnel, but she resisted.

  “Wait. Wait!” Elaine forced her to halt. “What are you talking about?”

  She repeated the message, but she hadn’t finished before her mother was running, dragging her along. Barely a step into the light, Elaine propelled them through the ether with a force strong enough to tear Aurelia apart. Only her mother’s grip kept her whole.

  They materialized in a forest, and she caught a glimpse of an old wooden hut before she swayed. Sick gurgled up her throat and she bent over, focusing on the ground to alleviate her nausea. When she was sure she wasn’t going to heave, she stood upright, and went inside after Elaine.

  “…getting worse. There was something in his eyes I’ve never seen before.” She heard his voice before she saw him, the accent matching the one that had sought her help.

  “You think he’s possessed?”

  “What else can it be?” The man ran his hand through his red hair, the light catching it and turning it to flame. The crinkled locks bunched up then cascaded down as his hand freed and rested on the back of his neck. She watched every muscle shift in this simple action, forgetting to breathe. It was only when Elaine turned to look down on the cot and he noticed her that she inhaled.

  Jade eyes held her as he walked over. He stopped bare inches from her, his body radiating heat, carrying with it the scent of the forest, a rich earth that made her belly growl.

  She squeaked as he took hold of her right hand in both his large ones.

  “Thank you.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. His lips branded her flesh.

  “I…I…” she stammered; warm molasses coated her mind. Swallowing hard, she found her voice. “I didn’t do anything.”

  His head whipped up. “You heard me. No one has ever heard me.” He said it with such earnest and gratitude her heart burned with greater intensity. Her cheeks flushed.

  “Aurelia!” Elaine shouted, her voice like a bucket of water thrown over her head. “Get over here.”

  She slipped her hand from his grip, raced to her mother’s side and cried out when she saw the tormented oracle. Frail and sunken, his skin glistened with sweat, and his face twisted. His muscles clenched and unclenched, making his body writhe like a sack of yowling cats. Every now and then he buckled, his back arching to raise him off the cot, only to slam down again.

  “What’s wrong with him?” she asked.

  “Something has infected his mind.”

  “Xadrak?”

  “Likely.”

  “The demon?” the redheaded man said. “But how?” He stood behind her, his warmth against her back.

  “He got free yesterday,” Elaine said.

  “Xadrak is meant to be locked up. You were meant to keep him from getting out.”

  Aurelia cringed as he laid the blame on her mother. “It’s not—”

  Elaine spoke over her. “What’s done is done. Now we have to save Loic.”

  “But is that even possible?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You have to help him. This is all because of you.”

  “Do not lecture me, Hame. I know my responsibilities.”

  And Aurelia knew hers. “What can I do to help?”

  “We need to get inside Loic’s mind. I don’t suppose you’ve tried, have you?” she said to Hame with a slash in her voice.

  He folded his arms across his chest and glared.

  “I’ll go,” Aurelia said.

  “No!” Elaine barked. “Xadrak might be waiting in there for whoever comes to flush him out. You’re not strong enough to confront him.”

  “Better me than you. Let me try.”

  Loic let out a long howl, lifting off the cot so high Aurelia thought his spine would snap in two. Hame dove between her and Elaine, pushing them aside so he could hold onto Loic and lessen some of his strain.

  “Please come back. Please come back.” He said it so softly, but she heard it and the plaintive call punctured her heart. Loic eventually lowered, and Hame sat back on his knees, holding the oracle’s hand.

  “I’m going in,” Aurelia said, reaching out to touch Loic’s temple.

  But Elaine slapped her hand away and pressed her fingers against the oracle’s head. Her eyes closed and her body settled into a relaxed pose. Aurelia’s chest seized at seeing her mother disappear so quickly.

  What if she never comes out?

  Hame’s free hand grabbed hold of hers and he squeezed it. “Thank you for trying.”

  She meant to say more, to tell him it was because of her Xadrak had been free to do this, but Hame’s attention had returned to the cot. Loic no longer thrashed or howled. He lay still on his back; his grey eyes stared at nothing.

  Elaine’s hand trembled.

  IX

  The oracle hadn’t witnessed him escape from his flesh-and-bone prison. Instead he had been focused on the past and the life of the two Ikiri-rai in their true home. Xadrak lashed out when seeing the battles again—his rise and fall, his descent into the portal and death—and sank his claws further into Loic’s mind. He attempted to twist the oracle’s meagre abilities to divine his and Sinara’s futures, but it was futile under such pressure.

  And then she came burrowing in.

  Only iron restraint kept him from grabbing hold of her the instant he felt her presence. He wanted to make sure as much of her was inside as possible before he snared her. He prowled around her awareness, keeping low and in the shadows of this feeble mind. Sinara searched, but for what?

  Ah, she searches for me.

  She crept, picking her way through a dying and inhospitable land. She delved further, feeling for any traps he might have laid, being careful not to draw his eye. He expected her to be protected, as if she carried a bow and arrow or had fashioned a shield.

  Getting closer and probing her boundaries, he stopped. There was no protection. She was open and traipsing down a dark path, ready for the taking. But only a fool would believe such a thing of Sinara.

  And he was no fool.

  What could she possibly have done that would be undetectable to him? She was here as an invader. This was his territory and he should have been in control.

  Trickery. Sinara was always good at tricks.

  That was how she’d broken his wing and lost him his army. He growled at the remembered failures, and anger rippled out before he could wrestle it under control. She sensed it and spun towards his presence. Power surged from her and white light blinded him. He broke his cover and rushed forward to where she’d been, but she had fled.

  Half-blind from the attack and his fury, he shredded Loic’s mind. Howling and bellowing, for one moment he merged on a deeper level with Loic, his screams becoming the oracle’s as he was torn to pieces. One thought couldn’t follow another, couldn’t connect with another ever again. With a final slash, he quit the diseased and dying mind and erupted into the astral, in search of a way to repay Sinara for her treachery.

  X

  Loic gave one final shuddering breath and his hand went slack. Tears dripped off Hame’s cheeks, and cries clogged his throat. He tilted his head and wailed, releasing the stark horror he’d barely been able to block from his thoughts.

  If he’d been a real oracle, Loic would not be dead. He could have predicted this. He could have helped keep Loic safe. He could have dislodged the demon sooner.

  The demon…

  This was Elaine’s fault. She was meant to keep that evil locked up. Anger pushed him to his fe
et. He grabbed her and slammed her against the wall.

  “You could have saved him,” he growled, uncaring that her eyes were red and wet. “He’s dead because of you.”

  She kept still but her muscles tensed beneath his hands. “There was nothing I could do. Xadrak had already destroyed him.”

  “Liar!” He wanted to crush her. “If there’s anyone who could have helped him, it was you. But you didn’t want to risk your precious hide.”

  Her nostrils flared. “And what of you? If you showed any skill at prophecy, you could have seen this.” Her words winded him, loosening his grip, and she forced her way out of his hold. “You weren’t the only one to lose a friend, Hame.”

  “You used him,” he whispered.

  Elaine drew back to slap him.

  “Stop!” Aurelia shouted. “Loic is dead, and all you two can do is bicker.”

  Elaine dropped her hand. An apology formed in her eyes, but he sneered at her sympathy. He returned to Loic’s bedside. Aurelia touched his arm. Instinctively he hugged her, and she nestled against his chest. He inhaled the orange scent from her hair, each breath sweeping aside his hostility for Elaine and letting his grief spread as he sobbed.

  Loic was all he’d had. He’d left his family, travelling down from Scotland through the hostile lands of the English, before stowing away on a boat crossing the Channel. Frightened and alone, he’d poured his faith into the vision that Normandy was where he was meant to be. And there on the dock, the oracle had waited for him, a big grin stretched wide across his face, a smile he’d loved from the start. Loic had greeted him in an unfamiliar language, but the words weren’t important. He knew Loic wouldn’t cause him harm. After so long without kindness, he’d collapsed into the stranger’s embrace and wept. Loic had lifted him into his arms and carried him away to a new home. There was nowhere else he’d wanted to be.

  The memory plunged back into the deep. If Aurelia hadn’t shifted in his arms, he would have followed it and dragged back to the surface all the other happy and painful recollections of all too short a time spent with Loic.