This Dark Mirror

by Tricia Owens

  Wheezing, he managed to roll onto his side and there his lungs finally expanded, though with horrendous pain. He seized a sip of air. Then another, his breath rattling in his throat. Footsteps sounded over the rock, but Caled only lay there, helpless.

  "And here’s a little something extra since you’ve been such an arse to me."

  He couldn’t brace himself for what he feared was coming. When the magickal energy hit his body he bit his tongue. Blood flooded his mouth as magick tunneled through his body, searing him from the inside out. The feeling of violation was so strong he gagged, tears leaking from his eyes. His fingers turned into claws, pulling at his clothes, trying to get to his skin. The magick was all over him, crawling over his skin and inside him... He thrashed violently, a howl of despair ripping from his lips.

  A booted foot kicked him in the shoulder. With a grunt he fell onto his back, his hands still clawing at his chest. When Jessyd stepped over him, straddling his waist, Caled told himself to kick the other man in the groin. Instead, his heels drummed against the rocks as his body tried to fling off the insidious magick tainting his body.

  "I know you hate magick, Caled," Jessyd purred from above him. "Hadrian did that to you. He made you sickened by it, and in doing so he did me a tremendous favor. He made you weak for me. I should thank him, don’t you think? He all but handed me the key to defeating you."

  Caled balled his hands into fists. He forced his shaking body under control as he glared up hatefully at the sorcerer.

  "He’s stronger than you are. You don’t stand a chance against him and you know it."

  "Stronger than I am?" Jessyd threw back his head and laughed. "He never was. He never even learned magecraft! And even so, what threat is he now? He’s as helpless as a babe thanks to my clever ruse." His face darkened. His handsome features distorted, making him as ugly as Caled had always believed sorcerers to be. "I will enjoy destroying him, Caled. I’ll make sure he’s screaming your name as he dies. Too bad you’ll be screaming my name when you die. Rather ruins the romanticism of it all."

  Caled shut his eyes, thinking of Hadrian lying unconscious, ripe for Jessyd’s violence. He couldn’t allow it, but he didn’t know how to stop it. There was one thing he did know, however, and it was within his ability to control.

  He opened his damp eyes and met Jessyd’s gaze. "I’m no threat to you, Jessyd," he whispered, letting the hate drain from his voice. "Please don’t kill me."

  The other man’s brow furrowed. He stared at Caled as if seeing him for the first time. "You—you’re begging me? You’re begging me for your life? The great Caledon ni Agthon, reduced to groveling?"

  Caled gritted his teeth as the other man broke into gleeful laughter. Caled wouldn’t take the words back. Hadrian’s only chance—if there was one—required that he stay alive as long as possible and regain his strength. Caled mustn’t die before that could happen.

  "I’m begging you," he ground out. "Please, Jessyd."

  The other man suddenly crouched down, his legs on either side of Caled’s waist. He fisted Caled’s hair and yanked his head up off the ground. "Say it again," he hissed, avidly watching Caled’s mouth. "Beg me, Caled. Beg me nicely enough—make me believe it—and maybe you’ll get your wish."

  Caled stared into his eyes. "Please let me live, Jessyd. I’m begging you for mercy. I don’t want to die."

  Jessyd smiled and nodded. "You’re such a coward." His eyes fell to Caled’s mouth again. "But you are a handsome one. Give me a reason to spare your life, Caled. Convince me."

  Caled considered the weapons still strapped or hidden on his body. Jessyd was close enough that Caled could overpower him. One thrust of the blade was all it would take.

  But if he was too slow—if he somehow failed—Jessyd had the ability to kill him in a heartbeat.

  Hadrian’s life wasn’t worth that risk.

  He held still as Jessyd cautiously leaned forward. The sorcerer hesitated another second, searching Caled’s eyes, then he abruptly closed the distance and crushed their mouths together. Caled kept his eyes open, staring at Jessyd’s closed lids. It took all his willpower not to bite the tongue that slid between his lips. He let Jessyd play with his tongue, stroke it and murmur at the traces of blood there, but he didn’t follow the sorcerer’s invitation back into his mouth.

  Jessyd slowly broke the kiss and leaned back. Caled wanted to slap the smirk from his face.

  "I can see why Hadrian is so enamored of you," Jessyd breathed, licking his lips. "I would burn down a city for you, too." He leaned back farther, his eyes dropping to Caled’s groin. "What else do you have?"

  Without waiting for a response, he grabbed the front of Caled’s breeches and tore the flap open. Caled sucked air through his teeth, but didn’t move. He held Jessyd’s eyes with as little emotion as he could while the other man slid his palm over Caled’s soft cock.

  "So large," Jessyd marveled, lust glazing his eyes. Caled bit down on his tongue to hide his disgust as the sorcerer massaged and measured his length. He didn’t become hard, but Jessyd didn’t seem to mind as he fondled him.

  "Let me live," Caled repeated quietly.

  "I’d like to take you right now," Jessyd panted, ignoring him.

  Caled saw the bulge in the man’s breeches. Could he allow this? Caled firmed his jaw. Yes, he could.

  "Let me live and you can take me as many times as you want. I’m no good to you as a cold corpse."

  He watched hopefully as Jessyd considered this. Then a whistle pierced the air. Two of the horses leaped into a gallop and disappeared into the blackness beyond the glow of the Shielding Cast. Jessyd swiftly pulled his hand from Caled’s breeches.

  "The thieves," he said, speaking to himself. He looked back to Caled, his lust gone. "I’d love to play with you, but sadly I haven’t the time. There’s a little boy I need to take care of first." He stood and paused, considering Caled beneath him. Caled tensed, prepared to reach for the knife in his armguard at the first sign of ill intent.

  "I’ll let you live," Jessyd told him, stepping over his body. He gave the mercenary a cruel smile. "Worse than dying will be living with the knowledge that you let me take him from you. And that you begged for your life like a child. Farewell, Caledon ni Agthon. Oh, and when you see your friends, tell them not to bother following me. The minerals in those hot springs—the minerals now covering them from head to toe—can be illuminated with a Cast. You three will glow like torches at a virgin sacrifice if you come near me."

  Caled didn’t bother glancing down at his bare arms. He could smell the minerals lingering on his skin. Jessyd had fooled them at every opportunity.

  He sat up as Jessyd backed away. Now was his best chance with a weapon—

  "A little parting gift," Jessyd said with a laugh, raising his hands.

  Caled flung up his hands, but they were no defense against the hated magick that surged over him once again, toppling him to his back. He clenched his teeth and swallowed his cry.

  By the time the magick dissipated from his body and he’d writhed himself to exhaustion, Jessyd and one of the horses were gone, and Hadrian along with them.

  Chapter Nine

  Magick.

  The last greasy remnants of it slithered out the ends of his toes like a mass of worms that had decided to move on to another host. Caled’s limbs trembled as he pushed himself to his feet. His legs felt as though they would fold at any second, but he managed to stagger to the Shielding Cast entrapping Manix and Syellen. Though every instinct screamed at him to shy away from the mass of energy, he held firm and faced it.

  "Elder!" he yelled out hoarsely. "Elder, break through this thing! You’re a lazy excuse for a mage if you can’t!"

  The blue ball shimmered in reaction. Though he knew he couldn’t pierce it, he drew his sword anyway and hacked at the impossibly hard surface. His blade skidded off, again and again, rattling the bones in his arm and shoulder, but he persisted, hoping he might weaken the Cast.

  Whethe
r he’d succeeded or Manix had been driven to greater effort, something was changing in the sphere. Caled stepped back and watched as its walls pearled and then thinned to translucency, allowing him to see the mages standing inside it as though they were encased in ice. Manix’s hands were raised as his lips moved soundlessly. The barrier shuddered, a ripple traveling across its surface, before darkening to the blue glow again.

  "Elder!"

  The ball trembled again. The blue gave way to the same pearl opaque state as before. Slowly, with an effort Caled could practically feel, the ball began to clear as though a film of oil were sliding off its surface. All traces of shimmer faded away until he could see both mages clearly before him. Caled still hesitated, aware that magick was often unseen.

  "It is down," Manix assured him. The Elder slumped, his head dropping low.

  But Caled could spare no sympathy for his exhaustion. "I should gut you from chin to cock," he growled as he stalked up to the older man. He grabbed a fistful of the mage’s robes and shook him until the silver-haired head lifted and black eyes rose to his. "I blame this entirely on you. You trusted Jessyd and let him blindside you. It’s your fault that Hades is now gone. Jessyd’s going to kill him!"

  "Let him go!" Syellen cried, yanking on Caled’s arm. "Master Manix didn’t know Jessyd would do this!"

  Caled held the Elder’s eyes. "And yet everyone else did. What does that mean, I wonder? Were we wiser than you, or did you deliberately ignore the obvious? Or better yet, you’re in league with Gavedon."

  Syellen huffed in outrage.

  Manix stared back with pain-filled eyes. "There is a prophecy known only to the Council. It has led us to believe Hadrian is the only person alive who can stop Gavedon. But the Master Elder who translated this prophecy is a man, and men make mistakes." Syellen gasped at the apparent heresy, but Manix paid her no mind. "I want to believe that Hadrian is the man who will save this land. But the more I learn of him, the more I distrust him and the more my certainty wavers."

  Caled ground his teeth together. A fortnight ago he would have exulted in the Elder’s words. But much had changed, and the last thing he and Hadrian needed was for Manix and the Council to turn against them.

  "You thought the prophecy could refer to Jessyd, not Hadrian," Caled stated. "You believed he truly had turned against Gavedon and would be the one to finally bring him down."

  "He has not massacred the denizens of a city. He is in control of his magick. He does not present the same threat that Hadrian does." Manix spread his hands. "I do not believe the Council can control Hadrian. But Jessyd is another matter."

  "Control him?" Caled released the other man with disgust. "Give a group of men power and they decide it’s their solemn duty to play puppeteer with the lives of those around them. Your Council sickens me. There’s no such thing as Fate. Prophecies are excuses to force people to behave and believe the way you want them to. I may make my living with a sword, not with a quill and books, but I’m no fool, Elder. This mission isn’t about justice at all, is it? This about proving the strength and influence of the Council and exerting its will."

  Anger flared across Manix’s face. "This is about stopping a man whose abuse of power knows no bounds. Gavedon is not an excuse for Council machinations. You will never hear the Council admit it, but they fear Gavedon and the Order of the White Shard to a degree they have never feared anything. Gavedon does not know the meaning of restraint. His evil ambition, if left unchecked, can and will recruit followers from across the land who chafe at the thought of rules and regulation. Those are the type of men to plunge us into anarchy. If we do not stop Gavedon we will pay for it later. You will pay. Juxtan will fall and every ni Agthon in the land will be hunted down and slaughtered merely for having shared your name."

  When Caled’s eyes narrowed, Manix laughed without mirth. "Did you truly believe Gavedon is unaware that it was you who turned his son against him? He knows, Caled. He knows you stole Hadrian’s heart from him and set in motion their confrontation. Without you, Hadrian would have had no reason to resist his father. Were it not for you, the Council would be hunting not one ni Leyanon but both of them." Silver hair caught in the lines of the Elder’s face as he shook his head. "I thought things had changed between you and Hadrian. I thought you realized how many of his actions were made because of you."

  Caled looked at him uneasily. "He says Rhiad was a choice, but hasn’t told me what the alternative was."

  “A choice?”

  Caled found scant satisfaction in surprising the older man. He hardly could believe Hadrian’s claim, himself. What could possibly be worse than burning hundreds of people alive and destroying a city? Not to mention betraying the man Hadrian claimed to allegedly love.

  No, you know he loves you. Which makes the betrayal all the more unbelievable.

  A faint smile graced Manix’s lips. "At least now you understand where you should be concentrating your energies."

  "It doesn’t forgive you for what you’ve allowed to happen," Caled snapped. "You betrayed Hadrian as surely as if you’d handed him to Gavedon yourself. Your lack of faith has come and bitten you in your arse."

  Manix stiffened, his black eyes narrowing. "I bear the safety of Juxtan on my shoulders, Caled. I cannot afford to be anything less than completely certain of my choice. I made a mistake with Jessyd, but my motives are pure."

  "You refuse to trust Hadrian."

  Manix’s face went carefully still. "An interesting comment from you, of all people."

  Caled balled his hands into fists. "Enough of this talking! Every word wasted is another step Jessyd is taking away from us."

  "We don’t even know which direction he’s taken," Syellen pointed out, her tone peevish. "And how are we to track over stone in the middle of the night?"

  "Fortunately for you, you’ve got a right handy pair of thieves at your disposal," called a cheerful voice from the darkness. Gam jogged in from the shadows, a wide grin on his face. Father behind him, the large shapes of the horses could be seen, walking on their own.

  When Gam reached Caled and the mages, he lifted his eyepatch, revealing Lio’s green orb. "I always knew his obsession with Hadrian would be good for something. From the looks of things, Lio’s right behind them."

  "Blast it, he must be careful," Caled said. "The pools where we bathed have left a mineral film on our skin. Jessyd said he would be able to see if he’s being followed by us."

  Gam shrugged. "I don’t know anything about any mineral, but if a thief doesn’t want to be seen, you can bet your breeches he’s not going to be seen!"

  Caled nodded, though he remained tensed. "You’re right. And maybe we can warn him. Come on. I’ve a weasel to catch up to. One I will enjoy skinning."

  ~~~~~

  "Do you like doing this with me as much as when you did it with him?"

  Hadrian shut his eyes and turned his face away from the hot breath beating on his cheek. He wished he possessed the strength to do more—like gouge Jessyd’s eyes out—but Jessyd was the only thing keeping him on the horse. Hadrian was utterly and completely drained of strength.

  When he’d woken up to a hand in his hair and one on his throat, Hadrian had tried to magick by tapping into his last pocket of energy. He had known instantly that if Jessyd had managed to get his hands on him then something terrible had happened to the others and there was no longer a need to conserve his energy. The worst was here.

  But his small act of defiance and defense had been for naught. Jessyd had swiftly and thoroughly beaten down Hadrian’s magick like a man swatting down an insect. That had been the last of Hadrian’s reserves, and he’d crumpled in the other man’s grip, unable to resist as Jessyd roughly dragged him across the rocky soil.

  Jessyd had whistled cheerfully as he’d slung Hadrian across the saddle like a sack of beans and then mounted behind him. His demeanor had been relaxed, as if he didn’t believe any threat was forthcoming from Caled or the others. That was deeply troubling to Hadrian a
nd caused his head to throb with dread. By the time Jessyd had decided to shift Hadrian and place him sideways across Jessyd’s lap, it had been too late for Hadrian to look back to see the fate of his companions. He had no idea if they lived or died, though he knew that at least Caled must still breathe, since he himself did.

  Please, gods, let him not be horribly maimed, was the best Hadrian could wish for.

  With camp far behind them and still no signs of pursuit, Jessyd tightened his arm around Hadrian’s waist. The hand holding the reins settled lightly atop Hadrian’s lap. "You can admit it, brother: Caled’s not here nor will he ever find you. If you enjoy my company he would never know."

  "There is nothing for him to know," Hadrian said wearily but with a distinct note of repulsion in his voice. "It’s already common knowledge how much I despise you."

  "You didn’t despise me that day outside the castle." Jessyd bent his head over Hadrian’s turned face. A moment later his lips closed gently around the tip of Hadrian’s ear. Hadrian shut his eyes, fighting back a shiver. "That was your first time feeling that way, Hadrian. I’ll wager you fantasize about that experience often, don’t you? Perhaps in your bath, with your hand wrapped around your prick? Or maybe when he looks at you and you wish you had more experience beneath your belt because then maybe you could have kept him satisfied."

  "I’m beginning to think you know even less than I do." Hadrian jerked his head away from Jessyd’s questing lips, relieved in a way, that the other sorcerer’s touch inspired only revulsion. It meant that Caled was the only man to stir him, as it should be. "Don’t touch me."

  Jessyd laughed softly. "You’re hardly in a position to deny me anything, dear brother."

  "What did you do to my friends?" Hadrian asked at last, though he dreaded the answer. "I pray for your sake you didn’t hurt them, Jessyd. Our mission is Council-sponsored and attacking us holds as much weight as attacking the Council of Elders."

  He received a derisive snort in response. "You think I actually fear the Council? A handful of dotty old men hiding in a tower who’ve not stepped foot among common people in decades? You think I fear them?"