The design was familiar, one she’d admired a time or two herself. The old geezer had struck again. Rook just stared at what Obsidian held out, uncomprehending.
“Weren’t you wearing that when we walked into the council chambers?” Anna asked sweetly.
Strangely Rook looked utterly surprised for a moment as if Thayn didn’t pull that trick every time he visited, but then the Master just snatched up the belt and weapon and looked forward again.
They were halfway down the stairs circling the giant hamadryad when Rook commanded them to meet him at the arena. A moment later he took to the air.
Once he was well out of sight, and hopefully too far away for his mind-reading ability to work, Anna glanced at Obsidian. “That was odd. Wonder what’s chewing his ass?”
“Thayn, I’d say.”
But Obsidian’s gaze watched the spot where they’d last seen Rook.
Chapter 41
Anna stood at Obsidian’s side as he took in the number of people gathering in the corridor. By the noise, there were hundreds more outside.
“You nervous?” Anna asked from her location at his shoulder.
“No.”
Anna snorted.
He gazed down at her and grinned. “Eh, that was a lie, wasn’t it?”
“Just a little one. Tiny, like no bigger than this.” She stood on tip-toes and spread her arms as wide as they would go.
Her lighthearted humor had the effect on Obsidian she’d hoped, and he sighed, his shoulders relaxing as his mind calmed.
Together they walked out of the underground tunnel and onto the sands of the arena’s floor.
Unlike regular practice rings, this one was vast. Impressively so, with it being a good three or four times the size of the next largest ring. And there were bench-like seats on three sides, carved into the very stone of the mountain. She doubted the amphitheater was natural. It was too symmetrical. More likely magic had cut it out of the side of the mountain.
As large as it was, it still wasn’t large enough for the entire island’s population, but that didn’t stop them from trying as a couple thousand gargoyles and dryads packed themselves into the space.
Above, a few gargoyles circled lazily on thermals as they waited for the first bout to begin.
“Seems like everyone wants to see you kick ass or get your ass kicked.” She grinned up at him since she was still in human form and he towered over her.
“Adept Trials are more exciting because they pit the student against multiple partners,” Obsidian explained. “They start with the student facing his peers. All of them. Then if he or she defeats them, they go on to face the mentors one at a time. If they defeat all their mentors— which can happen but is rare—then the student goes on to face off against all the newly titled Adepts from the past year.”
“Yeah, because that sounds fair,” Anna muttered.
“The student only has to defeat three of the Adepts, and they will be elevated to that level.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“But if the student is very skilled, he or she must keep fighting Adept after Adept until they lose.”
Anna eyed him up and down. “You hate losing a fight. We’re going to be here all day, aren’t we?”
Obsidian grinned. “Yes. I plan to win as many battles as I can.”
“Master Obsidian. Is that the title you’re really after?”
He snorted. “No. But I won’t turn it down.”
“So modest.”
“The only way I’d get named a master today is if I fight Rook and win. No one ever wins against Rook during a Trial, or so I’m told.”
“How do you get named a master? Kill a dragon or something?”
Obsidian rolled his eyes at her.
Well, how was she supposed to know? She hadn’t covered that crap in her studies yet.
“It’s like an Adept Trial in that the student must face all their peers and then face the Masters. The student has to beat at least one of the older masters.”
“Only one?”
“A gargoyle becomes more powerful with age.”
Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of Master Thayn. He bore a large silver bowl in his hands.
“What’s that?” Anna asked along their mental link.
“That is why it’s called a Trial.”
Obsidian took the offered bowl and then drank from it, draining the dark, spicy smelling mixture.
“That wasn’t something harmless like wine, was it?”
“No. It’s a potion only known to Lord Dray and the council members. It cripples a gargoyle’s shadow magic for a day.” Obsidian licked at his lips as if it tingled or burned but handed the bowl back to Master Thayn without so much as a flinch.
His thoughts touched hers one final time. “This Trial is designed to teach a gargoyle that he can’t always count on his magic, that sometimes you must learn to take down opponents more powerful than yourself. Don’t be alarmed if our link starts to fade or feels like it disappears. It will return soon enough.”
“So, the old geezer is stealing your magic this time. Why does that not surprise me.”
The elder turned and grinned at Anna a second before his thoughts touched hers. “I’ll have to think up some other surprise for you then if this doesn’t offer enough to be entertaining.”
Heat crept up Anna’s face.
Right. Oldest gargoyle. Gargoyles get more powerful with age. Check.
After that Obsidian didn’t say anything more. Anna wasn’t sure if it was because he was mentally preparing to face his first opponents or if the drink worked that fast. Three more minutes crept by and the sensations that always flowed along their link, even when they were shielding their minds, suddenly stopped.
A heartbeat after that, their link blinked out of existence, leaving a hollow feeling in Anna’s mind.
She had to shove away the panicky little feeling its absence caused.
It hadn’t occurred to her how much their link was a part of them. She just took it for granted. Gods, what if only one of them survived the coming war? What would it do to the other? No. She wouldn’t think like that.
They either both survived or they died together.
She found that thought strangely comforting and was soon able to focus upon Obsidian and his test.
It took most of the afternoon, but he defeated all comers, first the novices, and then his fellow journeymen. He’d been magnificent to watch, making the defeats look easy, but up close she could see the toll.
The air near the arena’s floor had been cooled by the summoning of shadow magic by his opponents. Steam now curled up from his body even as sweat dripped into the sand under his feet. That alone told her while he’d made it look easy, it wasn’t.
Finally, Thayn called for a break.
Anna found herself rushing forward to check over her Rasoren for injuries before the healers had even made it to his side.
He laughed and touched a drop of sweat that was making its way along her hairline from temple to ear.
“You look like you’ve been battling your own demons, my Kyrsu.” His voice was rich with humor, but she still heard the weariness in it.
Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how much willpower it had taken to stand in the sidelines and watch her partner get beat on by opponent after opponent.
“It’s not funny.” Anna grabbed a bucket of water right out of one of the healer’s hands and offered it to Obsidian. She needed to do something, to feel useful or her berserker gargoyle nature was going to come out and play.
“How much longer?” It was simmering just below the surface as it was. It wouldn’t take much more to send her over the edge.
He shrugged. “Not that much longer. I’ve faced all the novices and over half my peers. I just have group combat and then to face and beat three of the adepts.”
Obsidian held up the ladle for her to drink from before he’d take anymore. “You’re on edge. I can scent that even
without the use of my magic. You need to calm.”
Fuck calm.
She’d need something a whole lot stronger than water to feel mellow while Obsidian was battling half the gargoyle nation.
But soon more dryad healers arrived and began sponging him with cold water to help cool him down. Anna joined them.
After he was sufficiently cool, more arrived with a light meal and leftover treats from yesterday’s feast. Drinks that were stronger than water by the smell were making the rounds out in the amphitheater’s seating area.
“Wonder if there will be any of that alien octopus to try.”
“I don’t smell it. So, it was likely devoured yesterday.” Obsidian whispered in her ear. “Tomorrow, I’ll make sure to hunt some up for you to try.”
“Focus on your test, not my stomach. I’ll be fine. You might not.”
“Fear not. No one has ever died.”
“Comforting.”
They shared a quick lunch. Obsidian didn’t eat anything substantial, sticking to fruits high in water and sugar and a few of the dryad version of granola bars.
After the meal, Thayn called Obsidian back into the ring.
Then between one heartbeat and the next, the most skilled of the journeymen were rushing toward her partner, five to one. Anna fisted her hands and kept quiet. This was just part of a test, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.
The fight was brutal, but even then, there was something breathtaking about how Obsidian moved. His sword a bright streak of silver, a flash of light and then with the ring of blade on blade, sparks rained down upon the sand.
He didn’t move so much as glide from place to place.
Actually, he was good enough he didn’t need to move, but he chose to dance.
And his deadly dance was stunning.
Between one strike and the next, his present opponent’s sword was on the ground. But the match wasn’t over, and before the slight cloud of dust had settled, two more opponents raised their blades to his.
When he beat his first five opponents, five more came to take their place.
Anna’s fingertips began to burn, and her shoulder blades ached in that familiar way that spoke succinctly of her gargoyle’s wish to come out and hurt something.
When Obsidian defeated the last group, Thayn called for another break.
“No wonder you take years to practice for this shit. It’s so y’all don’t drop dead midway through the test.” Anna set down her bucket and squeezed out the rag on his overheated skin. Only after he seemed cooler did she offer him something to drink.
All too soon, Thayn was calling over the noisy crowd, ordering Obsidian to face the first Adept in the ring. Anna followed along behind. His first opponent was Adept Shorban. Others were already waiting at the edge of the ring for their turn.
She prepared herself for another long fight with her own gargoyle nature.
Shorban was followed by one of the warrior-dryads, a woman by the name of Adept Karlaryn. Then another gargoyle called Firethorn.
Midway through the present fight, threads of warning began fingering their way up Anna’s spine. Her gargoyle nature roused stronger and studied Firethorn. No. He wasn’t the cause.
The threat was emanating from closer to her position than Obsidian’s.
Scanning the press of gargoyle bodies crowding close to the ring, she stalked in the direction her magic tugged her.
There. Where Rook and Thayn were watching from the side of the ring. Just behind them, Reaver stood at the ready, a spear in his hand.
If she shifted now, it would alert Reaver that she was stalking him.
Remaining human, she made her way toward him.
Just then Rook stepped away from the others, his blade coming free of its scabbard.
Swinging her eyes back to Reaver, she froze.
He was gone.
Pulse pounding, her eyes darted around the outside of the ring, scanning the crowd.
There!
Snarling, she shifted to her gargoyle form and bounded across the sand toward her prey.
Too late. Reaver wasn’t alone. Three other gargoyles stood with him, and they launched their spears at staggered intervals, targeting Obsidian.
She tossed up a shadow magic shield between him and the airborne spears. Two of the spears struck her barrier. The other two clipped the top and sent them spinning. One hit the sand, but by some unimaginable bit of ill luck, she heard a grunt of pain followed by Obsidian’s snarl.
Anna growled in answer and adjusted her trajectory, racing through the crowd.
She’d kill the others once her Rasoren was safe.
Chapter 42
Silence smothered the ring as the crowd fell silent in shock. Anna ignored them as she powered forward, sending bodies flying in her wake. At her mental call, more shadow magic rose up from the sands.
The temperature in the arena plummeted. Steam rolled off the sand and Anna’s own breath condensed in the air. Any gargoyle in her way was shoved aside by her savage power.
There was no pain or fear or weariness. No limit to her power. There was only rage that these lesser beings had endeavored to harm her Rasoren. And now! Now they were daring to cage her.
Nothing could stop her when her partner was weaving between consciousness and oblivion. He was losing too much blood. She could smell it. And after drinking that potion, he couldn’t call his magic to heal the wound or shift to stone.
It drove her into a frenzy of rage.
When she reached her Rasoren’s side, he was surrounded by several other gargoyles.
She snarled a warning. Wisely, they darted away to what they thought was a safe distance. There was no safe distance for them to run if they meant Obsidian harm.
When she sniffed at him, she swiftly determined those others hadn’t intended harm. They had cut the spear from his side and packed the wound to stop the bleeding until one of the healers could reach him.
“Anna,” his voice came weak as shudders coursed down his body. He lay on his side, wings curled around him. “I need your magic. I can’t summon my own.”
His words a command she wanted to obey. Every fiber in her being vibrated with the need to obey, to belong, to be claimed by her Rasoren. They’d both been foolishly resisting the soul deep bond for different reasons.
“My Anna, all will be fine,” he whispered as his body began to feed on her power, draining strength and healing from her flesh.
Of course, it was going to be all right now. She was here. They were together. She would kill all threats until he was well enough to move.
“No, Anna.”
“Why no?” Her voice sounded scratchy to her own ears like she’d damaged it with her snarls and growls.
“Come lay next to me, my lovely Kyrsu. We’ll shift to stone and sleep side by side until we’re both healed.”
“You’re still in danger.” But denying him was so very hard.
“Am I?”
His words confused her until she examined the minds closest to them.
The others feared her.
As they should.
Hmmm. But she detected no hostility toward Obsidian.
That was strange. There’d been a definite threat before, but now it was gone.
It had to be a trap or a trick. That was the only reason.
“It was an accident.”
“No. What I felt and what they did to you was no accident.”
“It was part of the test,” he assured her. “After it was over, I heard Rook yelling at Reaver and the others about their terrible aim. There were supposed to cause a flesh wound at most. I think Rook did it because he wanted to see this side of you.”
His words made sense when compared with what she felt in the others’ minds. But there had been some threat. She’d felt it. Sighing she gave herself a little shake, her fear and adrenaline slowly melted away.
She would listen to her Rasoren but only so far.
Concentrating, she summoned more magic
and formed it into a powerful weaving. A moment later a protective dome surrounded them. Safe now, she curled up next to him and nosed at his wound.
Removing the packing placed there to slow the bleeding, she started to lap at the wound. Even as the healing compound in her saliva started on the surface, her magic worked its way into his body, finding the deepest point of the puncture wound.
The spear had bitten deep, perforating his liver. She summoned another wave of magic and sent it deep.
He hissed in pain.
But healing him was helping her to calm, so she continued.
“It serves you right for drinking something that would cripple your ability to summon your magic. Don’t do that ever again, you great dolt!”
“Don’t think I will.”
“Good. It was very foolish.”
“How are you feeling?” He asked, already sounding stronger from her healing.
What a strange question for him to ask her.
“I’m fine. You’re the one who got his ass kicked up and down the arena floor and then used your liver to catch a spear.”
“You’re back with me?”
“Back from where? You delirious? Where the hell did you think I’d be when you’re hurt?”
He gestured above them.
Anna spotted a shimmering dome of power. It smelled of her magic, and she had a foggy recollection of creating it. Outside was chaos, the sky black with gargoyle wings.
Then she noticed the bodies littering the arena floor.
“Oh, god. I went berserker, didn’t I?” She knew she had because, while she could remember the events, they were blurry and dull, like she’d witnessed them through a dirty window.
“It’s not your fault.”
“The fuck it’s not.”
“No. The blame can be firmly placed on Rook’s shoulders. This was his idea. He has wanted to witness your berserker nature for quite some time. Goddess only knows why he chose now to do it, in front of so many and with everything that’s been going on.”
“What the bloody hell did he think would happen?”
Legacy of the Sorceress (A Gargoyle and Sorceress Tale Book 6) Page 24
