by M. D. Grimm
I wanted to scream again. I wanted to throw something. How could he do this? How could he use his magick on me like that? He swore he’d never do that. He swore!
I punched the wall again, barely feeling the zing from my knuckles and up my hand. When would he return? When could I punish him? When could I hold him tight until he could no longer breathe? When would he return home? Time trickled by like a glacier down a mountain. It seemed to have stopped all together. Exhausted, I finally dropped to the floor again, my fists throbbing from the punches to the walls. I sat in the hallway, looking at the walls, at the few paintings Morgorth had done that remained hanging. I looked at the beauty he created with his own hand, no magick involved. I fingered the amethyst pendant. I looked at it. On impulse, I yanked it off my head and tossed it. It had betrayed me, as well.
The pendant flew down the hallway before bouncing against the floor several times. Then it rolled and came to a halt. I stared at it, detesting my helplessness. My weakness. He had to know I would punish him for this. Somehow, I’d punish him. I wanted to yell at him, shake him. He had to know, so why do it?
My head fell in my hands. I remembered his face again. His expression when he learned Dyrc had messed with my mind. I remembered his fear and his rage. I remembered his confession that his love only grew stronger. He told me he feared I might be used against him. I nearly was.
Sighing heavily, I laid down in the hallway. I stared at the ceiling. He was protecting me the only way he knew how—by getting me as far away from danger as possible. And, all right, I was more vulnerable than him when it came to mages. I had been bespelled, I had been nearly duped. Did that give him the right to take away my choices and lock me up? No. It didn’t. We were mates. We were supposed to argue, to negotiate, to communicate. Neither of us had the right to take choices or freedom away from the other.
“Dammit, Morgorth,” I said. “Come home so I can yell at you.”
Chapter Nine
Morgorth
The crowd gathered once more, and I stood alone on my side of the room. Olyvre and Elorn stood on the other. I would teleport my brother, if I could have, but that wasn’t an option. I watched them both carefully. At least I only had Olyvre to worry about, now. I cringed inwardly. There would be hell to pay when I got home.
Aishe’s absence was instantly noticed. Master Ulezander sent me a sharp look. I kept my expression blank as I stared back. His lips thinned.
“Lord Morgorth,” Elder Kyller said as he stood. The crowd quickly quieted, hushing each other. “Where is your witness?”
“I sent him home.”
Elder Kyller’s eyes widened. The other elders murmured to each other as the crowd whispered.
“We have yet to come to the end of this inquiry,” Elder Kyller said. “You know the protocols.”
“I know them,” I said, barely swallowing belligerence. “You had no need of Aishe any longer, Elders. He gave his testimony, under spell, and it would be pointless to question him further.” Master Ulezander looked as pissed as the rest of them. “Besides that, I had reason to fear for his safety.”
Elder Kyller narrowed his eyes. The other elders frowned at me as well. “His safety? This is an official inquiry. Surely you don’t claim your mate is in danger from the council.”
“One council member, perhaps,” I said. It was time to pull out all the stops and make sure Elorn would never gain back his position or authority. I wanted him either dead or rotting in a dungeon. I looked pointedly at Elorn. His focus was on the council, and I saw a drop of sweat roll down the side of his face. I barely repressed a smile of pure satisfaction.
“Explain, Lord Morgorth.” It was a command, not a request.
I looked back at Elder Kyller and slowly brought my hands to my sides. “I have something to show the council. May I?”
Elder Kyller looked at the other elders, and they vocally gave their assent.
“Continue,” he said.
I reached for my pouch, keeping my movements slow, and untied it from my belt. I held it up and then tossed it underhand to Master Ulezander. He caught it easily.
“Open it,” Elder Kyller said.
Master Ulezander opened the pouch and gently dumped out the contents. Then he said, for the record, “It appears he has two wrapped crystals in his pouch.”
“Let me tell the council a little story,” I said. “Elder Elorn knew he wasn’t going to come out clean and righteous from this inquiry. He feels no regrets for his actions, since he sees them as an acceptable means to an end. Just in case you forgot, his ends are to destroy me.”
I looked at Elorn again as he continued to stare at the elders. Now his cheeks were red, a stark contrast to the rest of his sickly pale face.
“He knew both witnesses would tell the truth, which is that Elorn broke all rules of conduct. He broke all the oaths he swore when he became part of the Council of Mages. That was when he got his dog, Dyrc, to plant those crystals you see before you on the two witnesses. Lest you have forgotten as well, those witnesses happen to be my mate and my brother.”
I looked at Dyrc who stood in the crowd, as pale as Elorn. The entire crowd looked at him, as well, and he trembled, his eyes wheeling with panic.
Cold rage entered my voice. I didn’t bother to control it. My arms were still at my sides. I had everyone’s rapt attention. “Dyrc used a spell to alter Aishe’s memory, so he wouldn’t recall their meeting. Then he slipped the crystal into Aishe’s boot, a crystal with his hair wrapped around it. I came prepared for this inquiry, and for betrayal. I helped recover his memory and removed the crystal. I used different means to remove the crystal from my brother.”
I heard Olyvre’s quick intake of breath and stolidly focused on the elders.
“I assume those crystals were meant to corrupt the witnesses’ memories of the duel, to somehow prove Elorn innocent and I guilty. Should you unwrap the crystals, you’ll see the hairs of both Aishe and Olyvre, and I’m sure you’ll determine the magickal signature as either Dyrc’s or Elorn’s.”
I paused, my magick simmering just below the surface. I knew the council saw it in my eyes. I felt Master Ulezander’s gaze, his warning. He needn’t have bothered. I wasn’t going to do anything. I simply wanted them to take me seriously.
“Now do you see, honored council members”—the sarcasm was evident and several of the elders straightened, disapproval flashing across their faces—“why I sent my mate home? I will not allow him to be used as a tool by those desperate to destroy me. Neither will I allow my brother, my blood, to be used. I allowed the spell by the council, but nothing more. I owe the Council of Mages nothing more.”
In the silence that followed, Master Ulezander gingerly unfolded the cloths, revealing the two slivers of crystal. He murmured to Elder Zynd sitting beside him and he nodded. Together they closed their eyes and held one hand each over the crystals. I kept my eye on Dyrc, who was apparently looking for a way to escape. Elorn still hadn’t moved or spoken, or removed his gaze from the council. I fancied I could see his mind wheeling with options. I was sure he realized there were none. After a short time, the two elders opened their eyes, and Master Ulezander stood, his expression thunderous. He nodded to Elder Kyller whose expression turned stricken. Then he simply looked disappointed.
“Lord Morgorth speaks the truth,” Master Ulezander said for the record.
Just like that. Two enforcers brought a struggling Dyrc forward, their hands locked on his arms. One of them was Nanna, her disgusted expression clearly illustrating what she thought of him. The other I didn’t recognize; he was young and looked excited by the entire scene.
As Dyrc started to babble, to foist off blame, Elder Kyller turned to Elorn. “Elder Elorn, given the overwhelming evidence before us, it is my duty to pronounce that—”
“Save it.”
There was something in his voice I didn’t like. I caught Olyvre’s eyes and jerked my head, indicating he should move away. His eyes widened and he started to,
using slow steps so as not to be noticed.
“Elorn—” Elder Kyller said.
“Save your pronouncement.” Spittle formed at the sides of his mouth, and he reminded me of that cornered animal, ready to lash out. His cruel eyes tracked those in the room and many fidgeted, the sound of rustling clothes distinct. Then his eyes rested on me. He looked crazed. “I will not be brought to task by a villain.”
I thought he was going to send a spell at me. I was ready. But he chose a different target.
Dyrc.
Elorn was quick and deadly. With Dyrc’s hands bound, he couldn’t defend himself, and the attack took the two enforcers off guard. Dyrc’s head was gone. Just gone. Nanna let go of the body with a scream. Dyrc’s headless corpse fell to the floor with a dull thud.
As everyone, even the council, even I, stared in shock, Elorn slashed a swath of white fire across the stone wall behind the council’s table. Cascading chunks of rock fell over the elders as they scattered. Chaos erupted inside the White Tower as the crowd didn’t know whether to fight or flee. So they did both. Elorn couldn’t teleport out of the tower since the enchantments laced through the stone wouldn’t allow teleportation in or out, so he used the next best way: cause chaos and destruction, and then escape.
I wanted revenge, of course I did. With the fire and cascading stones, though, my mind had only one clear focus: Olyvre. He was the most helpless of any gathered. I dodged a sudden stream of purple and swung my head around, realizing it was from Elorn. I answered the spell with one of my own, and he deflected it with a shield. Instead of returning the blast, he swung around, still agile for someone his age, and lashed out at Olyvre. My lips didn’t move as I shouted the spell in my mind, my focus unwavering. My shield jutted out from my hand, covering the distance between us and forming in front of Olyvre. I managed to block the spell just in time. It rebounded and nearly smashed Elorn in the chest. He dodged and the spell hit his shoulder, causing him to trip on his own robes. I tried to run to my brother even as the stampede of scared mages jostled and shoved me. The elders were sucked into the pandemonium and wouldn’t be helpful any time soon. Stones and fire hindered movement and forced me to duck or jump, or simply dodge to avoid instant death.
For a panicked moment, I lost sight of my brother. What would I do if he died? Lyli’s sweet face flashed through my mind. No. My niece needed her father. And, dammit, so did I! I would drag Ollie out of here one way or another. Growling in frustration, I used force to blast several mages out of my way, creating a hole I could see through. There! I found him again. He clutched one of the columns, curled close to the floor, staying as small as possible. Mages brushed and bumped past him, but he remained immovable. His eyes were wide with terror. There was a shallow, bleeding cut on his forehead, the blood dribbling down his face. Spells still blasted now and then through the air. I dove just as one came at my head, and skidded on my stomach toward Olyvre.
He caught sight of me and cried out in what I took as relief. I crawled to him, and the instant I touched his hand, I felt better.
“Morgorth!” His voice was pitched higher than usual.
“I’ve got you!”
There was an ominous crack above us as the Tower shook violently. We both looked up to see a network of cracks radiating up the walls toward the ceiling. More stones tumbled, the walls bowing inward. How could this be? I thought the Tower had fortifications to keep it from being demolished. It had been used by mages for centuries; surely they would have put protective enchantments on it?
Only on the outside, I realized. Mother protect us.
I dove on top of Olyvre and prepared a shield even as the ceiling collapsed. The walls gave way and stones poured on those below. When I expected the pressure and pounding against my shield, there wasn’t any. The noise continued, and yet I felt nothing against my shield. I opened my eyes slowly, fearing what I might see. Then I braced myself and looked up. I gaped. A shield larger than mine encircled those gathered below. It hovered a few feet above the broken floor and arched over us like a dome. All the mages were protected despite the stones that continued to fall and pound against the dome.
I whipped around to see the elders standing tall in the turmoil. They held up their hands, each taking part in the shield. The other mages were gathered and crouched like us. I swallowed hard and pulled away from Olyvre, releasing my shield spell. My brother looked dazed and ill as he stared at them, as well. We both panted.
“Easy, Ollie. We’ll make it through this.” I gripped his shoulder hard. The touch had him looking at me. Then he smothered me in a hug. I let him and patted his back.
“You were that bird,” he said, his voice a croak.
“Yeah.”
“Couldn’t just tell me, huh?”
“Nope.”
“You owe me a new pair of trousers and a tunic.”
I blinked. Then I laughed. Hard. We held each other tightly and soon our insane laughter was the only thing heard. The stones eventually stopped falling, leaving most of the White Tower in rubbles, open to the sky, the elements. We were now the object of attention and I could care less. Olyvre was made of sterner stuff than even I expected. His strength gave me strength.
Finally sitting back, I wiped my eyes. Olyvre’s face was red, and he had to also wipe his eyes.
“Seriously, you owe me.”
I nodded in agreement. “I do. I do.”
When I looked around, I noticed Elorn was missing. I cursed viciously. I stood and gave my brother a hand, helping him to his feet. I crossed the room, stepping over and around cowering mages, to Master Ulezander where he still held the dome.
“He got away,” I said.
Master Ulezander opened his mouth. His glowing eyes tracked to the doorway and sparkled with humor. “On the contrary.”
Frowning, I turned to find a sight I knew I’d never forget.
Elorn knelt right outside the doorway, his hands behind his back, his face slack. He looked to be unconscious. And Elissya, sweet, petite Elissya, stood right beside him, her robes torn and stained, hair mussed. She held her hand over him, palm flat. She looked at all of us with an arrogant tilt to her head I highly approved of.
“If you’re done playing around,” she said into the silence, eyes glowing like emeralds. “Perhaps you’d like to tell me where I can put this piece of trash?”
That’s my girl.
***
Elorn’s doom was announced right there, amidst the rubble and destruction of the White Tower. He was barely conscious when the council decided unanimously to execute him. I almost hoped they’d remove his tongue and his hands, allowing him to live out the remainder of his life in bitter misery. And that was one of the many, many reasons I wasn’t council. I was vindictive, petty, and unforgiving. I wasn’t ashamed of that, either. The execution wouldn’t be a public event, and Elorn would be remanded to the Tower’s dungeon until it was time. I had to be satisfied with that.
I managed to speak with Elissya briefly before we were dismissed, and didn’t bother to hide how proud I was. She beamed at my praise.
“Well, I learned it all from you,” she said.
I snorted. “I don’t believe that. You’ve got more tricks up your sleeve than you like others to know about.”
She gave me a sly, mischievous look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I chuckled. I then noticed Olyvre had fallen strangely silent. I glanced at my brother to see him staring blatantly at Elissya with obvious appreciation in his eyes. I raised an eyebrow.
“Elissya, this is my brother, Olyvre. Ollie, this is Elissya. We studied under Master Ulezander together.”
“It’s an honor to meet you,” she said, holding out her hand. Her face was open and smiling.
Olyvre appeared to be struggling for words as he took her hand, holding it gently. I tried not to grin. It was horribly amusing to see Ollie tongue-tied. Despite once having sex with Elissya, I didn’t feel possessive over her. It had mostly been e
xperimental when we had sex, both of us curious and willing. I doubted either of us really enjoyed it.
“The honor’s mine,” he finally said, releasing her hand after holding it a bit longer than necessary.
She giggled, obviously enjoying the attention. She touched her hair before remembering her disheveled state.
“Oh, ugh!” she said, looking at her hands, then down at her robes. “I’m disgusting! Please excuse me! I can’t be seen like this.”
With that, she hurried off, mumbling in irritation. We watched her go before I nudged Olyvre with my elbow.
“You scared her off with your talkative nature.”
“Huh? What? Oh. Haha.” Olyvre scowled at me.
I grinned and wrapped my arm around his shoulders. “Come on, let’s follow Elissya’s example and clean up.”
“Right, yeah.” As I turned Olyvre away, he still glanced over his shoulder in the direction Elissya had gone. “She looked fine to me. She looked amazing.”
I rolled my eyes. “Wow.”
Olyvre looked sharply at me. “What?”
I knew my smile was one of understanding. “I know just how that feels.”
“How what feels?”
“Seeing perfection and wanting to possess it. But not feeling worthy.”
A deep blush crept up Olyvre’s cheeks as he continued to stare at me. His voice was soft when he said, “Aishe?”
My gut tightened in memory of our first meeting. “Aishe.”
***
Olyvre and I spent the rest of the day and into the evening in the common room together. We talked. It was strange. It was nice. He spoke of his daughter, and I spoke of Aishe and my home. Every mention of him was a knife to my heart. Olyvre finally pressed me about Aishe. I told him.
He winced. “Damn, brother. He’s going to make you pay for that.”
