by Megan Derr
Sule opened his mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn't come. They couldn't. Because it was true. Warlock Binhadi was known for his ruthless loyalty to the throne, as though he were compensating for the long history of traitors in his family. Not that he'd succeeded, since standing loyal to King Yavuz had meant betraying Prince Seda, who by Binhadi's own memories had once been his friend.
No wonder he'd been so determined to see them carry out the quest, despite the fact he'd been the most derisive of the concept of Oaths. It was an excellent way to play innocent, and he'd been careful to keep up his mental barriers, save for slips here and there that just strengthened his place in the group.
They'd all fallen for it without hesitation. Binhadi was a manipulative, murderous ass, and they hadn't suspected it for a moment. They'd been so pathetically eager to call him friend that ulterior motives had never occurred. If it had been another ordinary day in the Heart and Binhadi had started being nice to him, Sule would have questioned it without hesitation. He'd have rather gone back to the misery of wearing gowns and being called 'she' than have anything to do with Warlock Binhadi.
But in the wake of the disaster and the way they'd cooperated to drive the fearmonger back…and who didn't like the appeal of being a hero sworn to a noble quest that would save the kingdom?
Mahzan wasn't the only fool in the room, that was for certain.
"I can't believe it," Cemal said softly. "That's low even for him. He wouldn't do this to us, especially given…"
Mahzan's bitter laugh filled the room again. "Especially given that he fucked us? I've seen enough of his memories to know that he and Prince Seda were more than friends—they were lovers. I would wager for years, given the differences between the memories I've caught. Yet he did not hesitate, it seems, to side with King Yavuz and turn against Prince Seda when the late king declared Yavuz his heir. It's certainly not giving him pause on his mission to kill Prince Seda."
Sule grimaced. "To be fair, if someone I once loved destroyed the Heart and all the people in it, I'd kill them without a single hesitation."
"I concede your point, but that doesn't change the fact that he had no compunctions about dragging us into this mess right alongside him."
"The dragon magic would kill him, too," Cemal said.
Mahzan sneered. "I'm sure he likes the poetry of dying for his king rather than in defiance of him. I don't particularly care what he does with his life, but he has no right to take ours as well. He definitely doesn't have the right to bind us without our consent, because let's face it, at this point, it's likely he forged the Oath on purpose. Then he convinced us without even really trying to gallivant off on this stupid quest, all the while plotting how to coax us to convince ourselves that dragon magic is necessary."
Sule tasted bile at the back of his throat.
"That lying, scheming, manipulative bastard has gone too far. I was stupid enough to trust him and got exactly what I deserved. I should have stayed and helped rebuild the city. I'm a jester, not a hero. And now I am through."
Sule jerked, stood hastily as Mahzan stormed toward and then past him. "You can't mean you're leaving. Where will you go?" What about him and Cemal? They hadn't lied about anything, didn't the three of them still have something?
Mahzan gave a short, sharp shrug. "Don't know, don't care. I'm a jester. I can make my way anywhere. But I have no reason to stay here, so—"
"Fie on you then!" Sule bellowed.
"Stop!" Cemal said, drowning them both out. "We're acting rashly. We should at least wait until Binhadi is awake. There may be some explanation—"
"Oh, fuck off, you spineless, panting coward," Mahzan snapped. "Like you haven't fawned over him from the very first, cozying up to the idea of being a pretty little pair, the pale priest and the dark shadow mage together in their world weary sadness."
Cemal bristled. "That wasn't it and you damn well know it. You have a lot of nerve throwing accusations at me when you are the one behaving like a coward."
"I'm no coward! How dare you—"
"Yes, leave like the coward you are," Cemal replied. "Always running and hiding and taking the easy road. I'm amazed you were still there when the fearmonger attacked, instead of shoving all of us out of the way to make a clear escape. Go ahead and run then. Dragon knows there's no longer any reason for you to stay—not that there was, by your own words."
"So says the man who has traveled the continent lying and manipulating to find a man to murder in cold blood," Mahzan replied. "You want to stay and continue to beg for Binhadi's cock, go ahead. I'm leaving."
"Please," Sule said with a sneer. "You have more magic and latent ability than anyone I've ever met. You could have been anything, gone anywhere, but you hide behind face paint and backflips and manipulate the crowd into adulation. Cowardly is right. Your temerity in being angry at Binhadi for manipulating people is breathtaking." He stormed past Mahzan, their shoulders slamming together so hard that Mahzan fell to the ground.
Throwing open the doors, he walked as quickly as he could back through the manor and upstairs to his room. The sooner he was properly dressed, packed, and gone, the better.
FAITH
Cemal was at a loss. He'd not felt so lost since the night he'd killed the late North Captain. Years upon years of hunting, of sacrifice, of existing but not living, and all he felt at the end of it was lost and empty. The man had deserved to die, but he hadn't deserved all the years Cemal had wasted seeking revenge.
This felt similar, in that it left him feeling broken, alone, and too hollowed out to cry. The worst part, the final stab of the knife, was that the Oath had clearly been broken. If they were still bound, Sule and Mahzan would not have been able to leave so easily, surely.
Mahzan must have broken it when he shattered the mental bond he'd built. All this time they'd thought the Oath unbreakable, and apparently Mahzan could have broken it at any time. So why hadn't he done it sooner, given how willing he'd been to leave?
Cemal poured another glass of brandy and gulped it down. Being drunk would solve nothing, but what did it matter? He had no home, no friends, no purpose. He was a former priest who'd had a taste of living only to be thrown back to the colorless existence he deserved.
He drank more brandy, gulping it so quickly his eyes watered and his throat felt like it was on fire.
What was he going to do? He could hardly face Seda alone, and he wasn't certain he trusted Binhadi enough to continue on with him, even if he still thought Binhadi deserved to tell his side.
Or maybe not, if all he was going to do was spin more lies and half-truths to make it easy for Cemal to fall under his spell again.
Cemal ran to the chamber pot and heaved up all the food and liquor in his stomach. When there was nothing left, only a sore stomach and aching throat, he dragged himself back over to the table where a neglected pot of tea sat beside the brandy. He poured a cup and sipped the cold tea slowly, focusing only on that, pushing away all the other thoughts in his head until he could breathe again.
He could return to a temple; many knew him and would be happy to take him in with no questions asked. He might not be devout, but he'd always been a good priest in the day to day. He knew the prayers, could copy manuscripts, lead hymns…
Cemal fumbled out his prayers beads and started quietly reciting all the prayers, rubbing his thumb over each bead as he recited its prayer. By the time he reached the first amber bead, he felt steadier, if still lost and afraid and hurt.
Yes, he'd find a temple and return to the only life he was fit for, no matter how much desolation filled him at the thought of never again seeing the men he'd called friends for a few months, and lovers for a few hours. No matter how much he'd enjoyed traveling with them, fighting alongside them. Who else would have been able to help when he'd turned into that man-wolf beast?
But they'd called him a coward and left without hesitation. Like nothing of the past months had ever truly mattered. Was he really as pathetic as they'd said?
So desperate he begged for scraps and clung to them no matter how poisonous they proved to be?
He'd thought their sexual interlude had meant something, had been a further solidifying of their bond, and even the start of something bigger, stronger.
He really was a weak, gullible, stupid fool.
Cemal abandoned the tea with a bitter laugh and returned to the brandy, drinking straight from the decanter this time. It sat poorly on his empty stomach, but he'd rather focus on the misery in his stomach than the misery in his mind.
A frantic pounding came at the door. "Come in!"
The door flew open and Eser hastened inside. "You must come at once! Binhadi has taken a turn for the worse, I don't know how."
Cemal was up and across the room before he thought about it. He followed Eser next door to Binhadi's room and went straight to the bed.
Binhadi's skin was clammy, lacked its normal healthy color. Cemal frantically looked over his wounds but could find nothing wrong. So the problem must be where they couldn't see it, which was infinitely worse. Despite Sule's efforts, something was wrong that he hadn't been able to see. "Where's the nearest healer?"
"The village is a day away in daylight. Their non-magic healer won't be here until late tomorrow or even the following morning."
"Damn it." Cemal raked hands through his hair, which had grown out while they traveled, and he'd enjoyed too much—
But none of that mattered right now. What mattered was the man dying before his eyes. "We need a healing mage."
"The temple is several days away. We stand no chance—"
Cemal turned away, not bothering to waste time explaining. "Fetch your most trusted servant, someone with a level head who will follow orders and not panic or stumble."
Eser nodded and peeled off once they were downstairs, shouting several names.
Ignoring his spinning head, Cemal stumbled down the front steps to the drive. He could do this. He'd only ever shifted into a man-wolf beast once, and only by accident when in a panic-induced rage, but surely having done it once, he could shift again more easily.
Flight was the only way they'd get there and back again within a matter of hours. A griffon would be able to carry passengers. Griffons were rare, but he'd dealt with them at one of the temples he'd lived in.
He might not have the power, but there was a chance. Their power had not increased immediately; he certainly would not have been capable of shifting sooner than he had. So maybe—hopefully—their power wouldn't decrease immediately either. All he needed was a few hours to get the healer and return.
"Here we are," Eser said from the stairs, and urged the woman beside her down the stairs.
"I'm going to fly us to the temple," Cemal said. "I'm not sure I'll be able to change back and forth repeatedly, so when we land, I need you to tell them we urgently need a healer and explain why. Do you understand?"
"Well enough, I suppose," she replied.
Cemal nodded. "Then you may want to avert your eyes because now I have to strip and change."
The woman turned, but Eser remained facing him.
After stripping off his clothes, Cemal closed his eyes and focused on his magic, on how it felt to pour out his life energy and give it shape—but instead of pouring it out, he tried to pour it through himself, pictured it filling him up all the way to the top, spilling out to coat him. He focused on his fear, his anger, his confusion—and screamed as white-hot heat overtook him. It stuttered, faltered, but he yanked it back, lost himself in the horrible sensation of bending and twisting and contorting. There was no pain, but he had the sense the pain was there, merely blocked somehow.
When it all finally stopped, the world had changed. Things far away were as clear as though in front of his face. Rodents in the grass, birds in the trees. He shifted, felt limbs and a tail and enormous wings. He shuddered, but there was no time to be afraid.
Though he could not ignore the sharp, twisting ache in his chest at the realization that none of the others would see him this way.
They probably wouldn't care, anyway.
Cemal shifted slowly, turned to face the woman, who'd fallen to her knees. Eser looked much like she wanted to do the same.
Cemal tried to speak, but all that came out was a sharp, cracking caw. The woman startled, then heaved to her feet. She drew close, but then hesitated. After a moment, though, and a few hesitant touches, she grabbed firm hold of his hide and hauled herself up. "We'll be back, my lady."
"Have a care, Ves," Eser said quietly.
She nodded, Cemal cawed again, and with a last rush of fear and anticipation, he launched into the air.
It was like nothing he'd ever experienced. The cold, rushing air, the closeness of the clouds. Could he go that high someday? How would it feel to go through clouds? What would the world look like up there?
But the happiness died as he remembered that he wouldn't be able to alter his shape ever again after this. Even if he could, whatever he did, however high he climbed, he would do it alone.
Shoving all his thoughts away, Cemal looked down and tried to get his bearings. He did not know Eser's house, but he knew the village and the temple. Yes, the river, and that valley. Cawing, Cemal increased his pace, turning slightly to head southwest where the temple was located.
Two or so hours later, if he was judging correctly, they landed in the courtyard of the Temple of the Sky.
The priests burst into a panic, fluttering about the courtyard like startled pigeons. It took Ves several tries to finally calm them, at which point she explained their plight. Thankfully, when they asked how she'd come upon a griffon, she said only that it was one her master had tamed when he'd found it young and injured. Dragon bless her.
Finally, finally, the healer was sent for and, mercy of the Dragon, he came quickly. There was very little discussion after that, as Ves resisted every attempt they made to convince her to linger. Practically dragging the healer onto Cemal's back, she climbed up behind him and shouted, "Fly!"
Cemal cawed loudly, settled his feet, and sprang high. Exhilaration filled him anew, however fleeting it was. Dragon, he would give anything to have Binhadi or Mahzan or Sule with him. Better, he wished he could transform into something large enough to carry them all. His friends, his lovers…an illusion that had died swiftly and brutally, but he would give whatever he had left worth giving to have had one minute of that illusion be true.
Exhaustion swiftly drove out all other thoughts, until Cemal could barely focus even on the up down up down of his wing strokes. By the time the manor came into view, he wanted to weep, and he was beyond caring that his landing was more like a crash.
Ves and the healer quickly dismounted, reaching the top of the stairs just as Eser came out to meet them. They vanished inside and Cemal collapsed. He whimpered and whined as instinct took over, shifting him back to his true form.
His clothes had been left on the stairs and covered with a cloak. He crawled to them, and for a few minutes, did not have the strength to do more than lie there bundled in the warm cloak. Tears stung his eyes as he stared up at stars that felt further away than they ever had before.
With the bond broken, that had been the one and only time he ever got to fly. One more thing he had come to appreciate far too late to stand any chance of holding on to it.
Binhadi. He needed to see for himself that Binhadi would be all right. Whatever had happened, whatever Binhadi's intentions or plans…however stupid it made Cemal, he still had a faint hope that all was not as it seemed. Binhadi hadn't kissed him, hadn't fucked him, like he was taking Cemal somewhere to die. Cemal had been fucked by people who didn't care, by people who pretended to care. None of that had been in Binhadi.
Whimpering at the pain tearing through his body, fighting the dizziness that washed over him, Cemal climbed to his feet and slowly got dressed. The shoes proved too much, and he dumped them on the floor just inside the door. Keeping the cloak wrapped tightly around himself to ward off the chill that felt sunk
into his bones, Cemal slowly and carefully headed inside and through the house to Binhadi's room.
He clung to the doorframe as he reached it, stared through blurry eyes at the bed where the healer, Eser, and a couple of servants were gathered. "Will…will he be well?"
Silence stretched on, and dread filled Cemal's gut, but just as he was on the verge of screaming, the healer said, "Yes."
Cemal swallowed and relaxed—then dropped to the floor unconscious.
*~*~*
He woke with a start to darkness, and dropped back down with a groan. His head spun a bit, but it was a far cry from the overwhelming dizziness that had plagued him after his flight.
Mercy of the Great Dragon, he'd flown. He'd never be able to do it again. But he'd managed it long enough to save Binhadi.
Thoughts of Binhadi spiked his fear. Cemal threw back the blankets and climbed out of bed. Cold air washed over his naked body and he hurriedly pulled on the heavy dressing robe draped over the foot of the bed. He threw a few logs on the fire to build it back up, a pang in his chest as he remembered all the times Sule had managed their campfires and the fires in their inn rooms. They'd taken Sule's abilities for granted the same way they'd taken Mahzan's. Too easy to get used to something, too easy to forget that something given was something that could be taken away.
When the fire was strong and his room started to warm, Cemal headed through the bathing chamber into Binhadi's room.
Eser looked up from the book she was reading. It slipped from her fingers as she jumped to her feet upon seeing Cemal. "You're awake. How are you feeling?"
"I've felt better, but I've also felt much worse," Cemal replied. "How is Binhadi?"
Eser lifted one shoulder, her mouth tight, brow drawn as she looked at Binhadi, who lay fast asleep. "The healer saved his life, but says there is more wrong than he can fix. Heartsick, he called it. Binhadi himself is the reason he's not much improved, for all no physical problems remain." She cast Cemal a look. "I do not know the whole of what has happened, though I can surmise it well enough. I know you've no reason to trust him, and even less me, but Binhadi is not an evil man."
