by K. A. Linde
“Please grasp arms.” The Queen clutched the book in her hand and faced the girls.
They looked at each other. Cyrene swallowed back her fear. She stretched out her right hand, and they locked forearms in a tight embrace.
The Queen began to read directly from the book. “The Bound ceremony is a sacred act, set up to strengthen and combine the magical properties from the originators. Three qualities above all link you together—loyalty, trust, and acceptance.”
Cyrene gasped and felt a tingle shoot up her arm. Avoca seemed to have felt the same thing.
As disconcerting as the strange feeling in her arm was, it was stranger still to realize that she had heard these words before at her Ring of Gardens ceremony back in Byern. The Byern royalty had stood before her and made her drink a vial. Then, she had seen a series of possibilities for her life—Third Class, leaving the man she loved, giving up her baby, and bowing to Kael Dremylon as king. She had chosen to put her country above all else in every instance, and thus passed the test. But how could that be similar to this if magic did not exist there?
“The circumstances of your binding will test for loyalty, trust, and acceptance between the hosts. Avoca and Cyrene, do you wish to be tested for the Bound ceremony?”
Both girls nodded and squeaked out, “Yes.”
The tingle in her arm had broken out into a dull throb.
“Know that the trials might be difficult, and once you start, there is no going back,” Queen Shira said gravely.
Cyrene’s powers seemed to have awakened for the first time when she wasn’t in mortal danger…or perhaps she was.
“Do you accept the circumstances?”
“Yes,” they whispered.
“Then, you may begin.”
Cyrene stared down at her glass and then up at Avoca. Finally, an ounce of fear crept up into Avoca’s features that mirrored Cyrene’s trepidation.
As they lifted the glasses to their lips, a tremor shot up to their shoulders, threatening to pull them apart. Cyrene didn’t know if it was a sign that they should stop. Their blue eyes met across the distance. For a second, it felt like she had known Avoca all her life. Mutual understanding crashed between them, and then they tilted the glasses all the way back and downed the drink.
As soon as the potion settled in Cyrene’s stomach, fire lashed out at her from the inside out. She thought she might vomit up the contents just to rid herself of the terrible pain wrenching through her.
The girls collapsed to the ground at the same time.
Queen Shira reached out for them, but she could do nothing at this point. They were in it, no matter what happened.
Tears streamed down Cyrene’s face. It felt like her skin was melting off, her bones were turning to molten lava, and her head was going to explode. Just when she thought she couldn’t hold on any longer, numbness set in, and she blacked out.
Cyrene was jostled hard on her horse. She had been in the saddle for days, riding at breakneck speed, with nothing but stale bread and hard cheese. Her stomach protested even more than her thighs, which were bruised from the saddle, and her back that ached from galloping all day.
She didn’t remember how she had gotten here. Did that potion completely knock out my memory from the last couple of days? She glanced down at her outfit and nearly pulled the beautiful black stallion up short.
She was in…pants.
Men’s pants.
She stared, aghast at the indecency of walking around with the outline of her legs completely visible to anyone she rode past. She didn’t care that they seemed to be a fine black leather that made it much easier to ride in than her dresses and skirts. She just wasn’t someone who wore men’s clothing.
What was almost more surprising was that she had some kind of armor over her chest that sat heavily against her. What could I possibly need armor for?
As soon as that thought flittered into her mind, it disappeared. Of course she needed armor. They were in the middle of a war of the ages. She wasn’t safe to walk around in petticoats and silk gowns when she needed to be on the battlefront, commanding a legion. The final battle was drawing near, and this interruption was unfortunate but necessary for Avoca. Cyrene could never deny her anything…even in the midst of the hardest battle of the last two millennia.
Cyrene felt her skin prickle and recognized it as a directional shift from Avoca. Cyrene veered left and ran into a pack of Indres prowling near the path that led to Eldora. A glance from Avoca told Cyrene all she needed to know.
Avoca and Cyrene broke formation and darted around the pack. As expected, they split, and six rushed toward Avoca while three followed Cyrene. They had identified the Leif as the more viable threat than a traveling human. She preferred having the tactical advantage in times like this.
She and Avoca reached for their powers at the same time. Working as one, they never faltered. Years together had fused their powers, so when their powers were used separately, a supreme lack would race over Cyrene as if part of her was missing.
Avoca raised her hand, and the ground trembled beneath the Indres’s paws. Cyrene grasped her sword and cut through the first Indres as it was incapacitated by Avoca’s distraction. The second leaped at Cyrene’s horse, but she caught it in the face with her sword. It backed up and growled a command to the Indres facing Avoca. They reassessed their situation and were drawing more toward Cyrene.
Time to end this.
Cyrene pulled in sharply on the well of energy that always bubbled under the surface. It swirled around her core, like a living, breathing life force. She reveled in the ecstasy of it all. Touching her magic was addictive and intoxicating.
Avoca had removed her own weapon from the sheath and attacked an Indres. She killed two before Cyrene let loose a burst of energy at the remaining six. Two scattered before it reached them, but the other four went down at her targeted hit. With their brothers on the ground, the remaining two tried to flee, but Avoca had her bow off her back and arrows through their foreheads before Cyrene could blink.
“Don’t draw so much,” Avoca snapped.
“Sorry.”
“What if a Braj had been nearby or worse?”
“You’re right,” Cyrene agreed.
It was a reprimand, but from Avoca, it didn’t feel like it. It was just a reminder. Cyrene had always had a problem with controlling how much energy she drew from her source. She just had so much power.
“Let’s go,” Avoca said, nodding toward the woods.
They broke through the tree line and down the secret passage that led to the gate of Eldora. Two Leifs stood guard with their bows ready to slice down any intruders.
Avoca pulled back her headdress that had been hiding her revealing golden blonde hair. “Open the gates!” she called.
“Princess Avoca,” one of the men called in greeting.
“Open the gates,” the second called down to the ground level.
As soon as the doors were open, Avoca and Cyrene trotted through the narrow opening and into Eldora. When they reached their destination, they dismounted and threw the reins to the nearest bystanders.
Avoca led the way into the Queen’s chamber and bypassed the guards at the door.
They tried to block Cyrene’s entrance, but Avoca hissed at them, “She is family.”
“Pardon, Princess, but we have orders.”
“And your orders are to stand down, soldier,” she growled.
The soldier stepped out of the way, and Cyrene followed Avoca inside.
Queen Shira lay on her bed. Cyrene had always thought she was a beautiful, strong woman, but lying there, she appeared so weak. Death hung over her.
Then, she opened her eyes, and those same wise eyes focused on the two girls. “You came,” Queen Shira said.
“As fast as we could,” Avoca said. She sat next to her mother and took her hand.
“I can pass now, child,” Queen Shira murmured. “You will take the throne and lead our people, as you were always meant to
.”
Cyrene could feel the turmoil roiling through Avoca. Cyrene had tried to talk Avoca out of her decision so many times. She was to stay and rule. That was her destiny. They’d done much together, but this was Avoca’s time. Cyrene would give her up.
“No, Mother,” Avoca said. She brushed back the Queen’s hair. “I am bound. I will pass the crown.” She choked on the last word, and tears streamed down her face.
Cyrene wasn’t sure if she had ever seen Avoca cry in all these years.
“My child, please. Please, you must.”
“I’m sorry, Mother. I love you.” She kissed the Queen’s frail cheek. “My place is with Cyrene.”
Avoca’s eyes locked on Cyrene, and she felt the power rise between them, as it always did when the other was emotional.
“Avoca,” Cyrene whispered.
She shook her head and then smiled down at her mother. “I will visit you soon,” she whispered morbidly. Then, she strode from the room.
Cyrene stared down at the dying Queen, brought her fingers to her lips, and showed her deference to a majestic ruler.
“Take care of her,” the Queen said with her last breath.
Cyrene wrapped an arm around Avoca’s shoulders until her tears halted. Neither of them had been able to hold back their sorrow for the lost Queen.
Cyrene couldn’t believe that Avoca had given up the throne. She had been preparing her whole life for this opportunity, and now, she would have to give the responsibility to someone else. It was unfathomable that she would do that all because of the war.
She glanced up to say another word of comfort to Avoca, and then her heart stopped.
She stared up at the Nit Decus castle in Byern. Her home. The majestic construction jutted out of the side of the Taken Mountains. The Keylani River gleamed from the mountain pass, and the giant gate that separated the castle from the city beyond was closed tight.
Byern would always be her home. Though she had traveled far and wide with Avoca, she never felt entirely whole until she was back in the city or walking the palace grounds. Her clothes had changed back into a vibrant silky red, and her toes wiggled in slippers.
Why did I think I would wear anything else? Of course she would be wearing her finery.
As soon as she had gotten back into town, she had been summoned to court, and they had changed promptly. Now, they were in the carriage and on the way to the castle.
“What do you think he wants?” Avoca asked.
“Oh, who knows with Edric?” Cyrene fluttered her fingers in an impatient gesture and sighed. “It’s hard to read him.”
“That’s because you’re still in love with him,” Avoca said as a matter-of-fact.
Cyrene felt her cheeks heat, and she glared at Avoca. “I am not, nor have I ever been, in love with him. He’s married.”
Avoca shrugged, and a small smirk touched her lips. “You play a dangerous game, Doma.”
“Careful with that title.”
“What am I but careful in this Creator-forsaken country?”
“Why must you torment me?” Cyrene grasped Avoca’s hand, and a current of magic coursed between them. “The Creator is alive and well in Byern. She breathes through me, through you, through the land.”
“Yes,” she finally agreed. “Your desert drains me. It is harder to feel the connection to the land with it pressing in on all sides. If it continues, it will drain your river and take over the city as well.”
“But not today.”
Avoca stared out at the road as they approached the formidable gate and nodded. “Do you love the other one, too?”
“I don’t know who you mean.” But Cyrene did.
“Prince Kael,” Avoca breathed.
Cyrene didn’t respond.
“How can you feel this compulsion to both of them?”
Their eyes met across the short distance. Cyrene had no answers for her. She had always been like this with them. It wasn’t…love but something different. She didn’t understand it.
“And will you marry the Prince and then become the Crown Princess of Byern, Duchess of Albion, Doma? For you know, he will ask. Perhaps that is why we’re here.”
Cyrene was saved from answering as their carriage rumbled to a stop. She stepped out onto the castle grounds. They were escorted into the throne room where Edric sat with Queen Kaliana, Consort Daufina, and Prince Kael.
Cyrene’s eyes swept to Edric. A pull greater than the source of her magic tugged at her, as she was lost in the depths of those blue-gray eyes. With great difficulty, she averted her eyes and found she was instantly swept up in Kael. The desire was clearly written on his face. He had never masked it, and the same compulsion hit her fresh.
She didn’t want either of them, yet she couldn’t stop this obsession either.
“Leave us,” Edric barked.
The Queen and Consort looked at him, appalled, but they could not refuse a direct request. Kaliana bit out a smart remark to him, which he ignored, and then she sauntered out.
Kael never moved.
“You, too, brother.”
Kael sent him an icy glare. He walked directly to Cyrene, grasped one of her hands, and whispered none too quietly, “Find me after,” before he kissed her hand.
Cyrene never took her eyes from the throne as he passed her.
“Are you going to release her?” Edric asked, gesturing to Avoca.
“She is not mine to release, and anything you have to say may be said in front of her.”
His eyebrows rose at her defiance.
“You knew this day might come, Affiliate. You swore fealty to the throne and loyalty to Byern. Dissension has been brewing ever since these…Leifs were introduced into our society. I thought I was doing the right thing by making you an Affiliate Ambassador to their people, but that time is over.” His eyes slid to Avoca with a deep-set hatred in them before returning to Cyrene. “You need to come home and sever ties with their…kind.”
Cyrene gasped at the insinuation, and Avoca straightened at the insult.
“Excuse me? Do you find something wrong with diplomacy between our two races?” Avoca spat.
“I didn’t ask her to bring you, Leif. You may speak when spoken to.”
“I am the Crown Princess of Eldora,” Avoca said. “You will learn propriety, or I will be happy to teach it to you.”
Cyrene grasped her arm before she could send the wave of energy building inside of her. She didn’t like this any more than Avoca, but giving away the fact that they harbored magic was the worst thing they could do.
“Edric, please. You’re mistaken. Their people are good. We should want them as allies.”
“I’ve made my decision, Cyrene. Come home. Take your seat at my side.”
“You already have a queen, Edric.” Cyrene rushed forward. “Do not make me choose between my country and what I know is right.”
“That should not be a choice you have to make. Byern is where you belong.”
Cyrene shook her head. “I am sorry. Are you sure you cannot reconsider?”
“The decision is made.”
Cyrene swallowed hard, unable to believe what she was about to do. “So is mine.”
She turned on her heels and strode from the ballroom with Avoca on her heels. Avoca clasped her hand in Cyrene’s as they exited.
Cyrene heard Edric call her name behind her, but she didn’t stop, and she didn’t look back.
Cyrene kept walking until she felt Avoca pull her to a standstill. She had just walked out on Edric. On Byern. All of this, for her loyalty to Avoca. Giving up her homeland was something she had never considered, never been willing to consider. Byern was her real love, and now, she had to leave…forever.
“You’re back!” a voice called from down the hall.
Cyrene brushed the tears from her face. A whisper of regret fluttered through her mind and then was gone. She didn’t know why she had been thinking about leaving her country. Byern was not her present concern. She and Avoca h
ad been too busy with traveling the countryside, looking for others who might be like her.
“Ceis’f,” Avoca whispered when he rounded the corner.
“They said you weren’t coming back, Ava,” Ceis’f said. He jogged down to meet them, never taking his eyes from Avoca.
“I never said that I wasn’t.”
“Tell me you’re back for good.” He reached out for her hand.
Cyrene didn’t want to be here for this. It was so clear that Ceis’f loved Avoca. It was almost painful to witness.
“I—” Avoca began.
He cut her off as he pulled her hard against him.
“Are you…okay?” Avoca asked.
“I am now,” he whispered.
Cyrene felt the swell of Avoca’s powers as her emotions hit her head-on.
Avoca hadn’t known that he loved her. She hadn’t even thought that he would have missed her.
“I’ll, uh…give you two a minute,” Cyrene said.
She tried to slip by them, but Avoca grasped her arm.
“Wait…” Avoca looked at Ceis’f and then back at Cyrene, torn. “Just a minute.”
Cyrene nodded and then darted down the hallway. She turned the corner and pressed her back against the wall, breathing heavily. They had a lead on a possible Doma in Aurum, but the last thing she wanted to do was pull those two apart. She cared too much about Avoca to do that to her.
A part of her thought about slipping out the back while they had their moment, but the way their powers were connected, Avoca would know. She would be able to track Cyrene. It had come in handy when they were separated on a mission, but now, it felt intrusive. She felt intrusive.
Avoca’s and Ceis’f’s voices carried down the hall, and Cyrene peeked around the corner. Ceis’f’s arms were in the air, and he seemed to be trying to make his point. Avoca pointed down the hallway, and Cyrene heard his reaction to whatever Avoca had said about Cyrene.
“You’re choosing her over me?”
“It’s not a choice!” Avoca yelled back.
“So, it was never me?”
“Why does this have to be an argument?”
