“And where would you go, pitiful one?A Guildmaster of the Mages is a frequent visitor here.One word from the Queen and the Guild would hunt you and kill you.”
“Good to know,” Tassos croaked.
“Then there is the simple matter of your condition,” she shrugged.“Our healer has little experience in these matters, but apparently there are two ways to cure you.The warm kavage method, where you are weaned from the wine over time.Or the cold steel method, where you drink naught but water until your flesh is purged of the drug.”
“Let me guess,” he said.“The Queen is in a hurry.”
“Just so.It still might take a while, but it will be quicker.”She tilted her head.“Unpleasant for you, but quicker.The Bonded has need of your services,” she repeated.“I’ll return.Try not to piss the bed.”
She was gone with a swish of skirts.
So, he was weak and helpless and in the hands of his enemies, those he had sworn to destroy by any means.Tassos closed his eyes and cursed the demons that had brought him to this, then winced when he realized that the demons were his own.
He’d done this before, once or twice.Tried to go without.Clammy skin, cramps, shaking with cold or sweating through the bedding, burning with fever.Not to mention the runs, the vomiting, all so familiar.Each time he had tried, he’d returned to the wine’s loving embrace.
He plucked weakly at the blanket that covered him as goosebumps started to come up on his arms.He shivered.
Bonded.She’d said Bonded.He’d heard rumors about Satia, before he’d tried to— No, his thoughts skittered away from that memory, from just before he’d taken to the bottle.But how long had that been?He’d lost track of seasons, months, weeks, days…
When had he last killed for the power that flowed from blood?
His powers were as drained as the many, many bottles of letheon he had drained.But there was a smattering, enough to shift his perception to mage sight, and he managed it.Barely.
The room—nothing.The window, the door—nothing.No magic used to hold him here.
The door opened, the woman stepped in, and his heart stuttered.
Blood Bonded and done at a very young age.A perfect matrix of silken, glittering, golden webs with sparks of red wove around her, mind, heart and soul.Permanent bonds, created through blood magic…and yet, something was wrong.Something very faint, deep within.He tried to focus and was rewarded with the spike in his head driving itself further in.
He curled over, vomited, and missed the bucket.
The woman cursed and grabbed up a rag.“At least, tell me your name before you lose consciousness again.”
Tassos didn’t bother to flop back, just curled in on himself and let the fever take him.His name?No, he wouldn’t give a name; it would give them too much power.“You first,” he rasped.
Silence.She hadn’t expected that, had she?The response came grudgingly.
“Nora.”
He breathed, pain coursing through his arms and legs to settle in his chest.If he had any chance, any hope of surviving this—
“Riven,” he coughed as the pain rose, carrying with it a wish that it would all go away, and a deep thirst in his throat.“I am Riven, that’s all you need to know.Riven of home, of family, of love, of all that was dear to me.”He curled tighter, shivering, closing his eyes to let unconsciousness claim him.
Her voice followed him down.“Oh good.Self-pity and whining added to the mix.Joy.”
Chapter Five
In the Palace of Xy,
During the 1st year of the reign of King Xyrath and Queen Satia
After the Spring Equinox
Even after all this time, Halithe still wanted to weep, not that it was permitted.Hers were probably the only real tears shed for the death of her teacher, Ritathan the Chained-mage.
Certainly her father had shed none.Nor would he tolerate further tears in his presence.
So the water trembled under her eyelids while she sat quietly, as a fine young lady of noble blood should, and listened to his rant, as he paced back and forth in the privacy of their chambers.
