“Then we’ll deal with it.”
“Helpful,” I mutter.
He lifts a single eyebrow. “You know, you’re a lot more optimistic in your dreams.”
Bryn purrs, like she’s voicing her agreement.
I frown. “Yes, it’s very optimistic to tell someone you’re going to be their undoing if you meet.”
He chuckles. “Touché.” Then his smile fades. “Do you know what else you told me?”
A shiver of unease trails down my spine. “You keep saying it was me, but we both know it wasn’t. I don’t even know how it could beanyone. That magic doesn’t exist anymore.”
“That’s the first lie the Order teaches you. Magic isn’t dead. Rare, yes, but not dead.”
I shift uneasily on the chair. I know better than anyone how true that is. Magic like mine was far more common in the time before the Culling. Magic like his, too. The Order claims I gained my power only because I almost died as a newborn. I looked into the face of death, and death spat me back into the land of the living with a gift.
But that doesn’t explain Taliesin’s magic, or whatever is happening in his dreams.
“Fine. What did this person tell you?” I ask.
“That if you kill someone and then resurrect him, your commands will control him. He’ll become your revenant.”
I press my lips together.Fucking stars.If he knows everything…there’s nothing stopping him from killing me first.
“That’s what the chains are for,” he says, nodding at my bound wrist. “Iron dampens your power. You can’t use your death spell against me while it’s on.”
My lips part. I glance down at the chains, realization creeping over me. The Order once trapped Taliesin with an iron net, and the rogues attempted to replicate it tonight. Because iron is theonly thing that can stop his magic. It never occurred to me that it would do the same to mine. Order magic has never been affected by anything, other than the limits of the talismans.
But my necromancy never came from the Order. It came from death.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
All this time I’ve been considering if it was too soon for me to strike, but now I know it wouldn’t have worked. Not while these chains hold me. My heart pounds. I’m far more trapped than I thought.
My hands clench in my lap. “What are you planning to do with me?”
“We’ll do what you pretended you wanted. Get you across the border to the Kingdom of Gelyn, far from the Order’s reach. Then…I have something I need to do.”
I let out a bitter, humorless laugh. “That’s the worst place I could go. They’ll know who I am and either kill me on the spot or use me as a bargaining chip.”
“I know someone in a little hamlet just past the southernmost border. The fighting hasn’t reached it. You’ll be safe there.”
“Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”
“Distrust me all you like, Swynwraig. The feeling is mutual.” He rises, holding out a hand. “But despite all that, you should get some sleep. It’s been a long day.”
I ignore his offered hand. “There’s only one bed that I can see, and I’m not sharing it with the man who chained me.”
His lips twist into a sneer. “AndIhave no desire to share it with the woman who intends to kill me. You’ll take it first while I keep watch. We’ll switch at midnight.”
“Fine,” I bite out.
I follow him past the tapestry to the section of the room he’s carved out for the bed. The mattress sits low on a rough-hewn wooden frame, draped in a thick woollen blanket with a small stack of pillows at the headboard. A piece of parchment is pinned above it, curling at the corners. A few words I don’t recognize are written on it. The stone walls are otherwise bare, but the floor is covered with a worn rug. I ease onto the mattress, careful not to let the chains rattle too loudly.
Taliesin doesn’t move away. Instead, he adjusts the blanket so it drapes across my shoulders. His fingers brush my arm accidentally, enough to make my pulse jump.
“Sleep,” he mutters, more to himself than to me. “You’ll need your strength tomorrow.”
