Sela curled up by the fire, aware she was incapable of sleeping here. Part of her hoped Tieran came soon. Another part of her feared what condition he would be in when he did. They had not been apart this long, and he did not react well when they were separated at all. Would he be angry about the attack on his uncle’s hold?

Karav and Tieran were opposites and yet, she found herself anxious for Tieran to appear, despite his Inland savagery. She had never been alone for this length of time. She considered their discussion from the night he cut her. He had terrified her but also forced her to see the truth: he had never hurt her. He had sworn an oath to Karav, and he had kept it when a lesser man might not have. The wild look on his face when he came to claim her…

It made her shiver in more than fear. She did not understand the thrill that went through her at the idea he had been driven to find her. Claim her. Make her his.

Sela shook her head. Her mind was muddled in this place. Why?

Three oaths. She had taken one to Karav. She still felt she would take one to Tieran, though he did not seem to believe her. Their bond was stronger than that which bound mates; they were together until one of them died and would be united in the watery underworld when both were dead. Why would she not consider an oath to him?

Rolling onto her back, she recalled something else Karav said: Tieran had no loyalty to anyone but her. She had not considered his rather rough treatment a form of loyalty. Her thoughts went to the nobles in this hold, to everyone she had ever met. Even Karav had a loyalty to the priests and king. As far as she knew, he had always done as they bade him with regards to her.

Tieran would never put anyone’s orders above protecting her.

Then where was he? Why did he continue to disappear and leave her vulnerable? Where did he go?

His intensity frightened her, and his ignorance about what she was and the world outside the Inlands rivaled that of a child.

The more she thought, the more apparent it became that he had tried to stay away from her as much as she did him. She had appreciated it upon meeting him, but after the second kingdom capturing her, she began to believe she needed someone at her side, even if that someone was the savage.

Like a wild animal suddenly caged, he appeared to be testing the limits of his duty. But she was not a duty. She was an honor! She was his world now, and he was hers. This was how it had been with Karav.

Tieran was not Karav. Would they always be at odds?

These thoughts gave way to new ones flowing through her mind too fast for her to catch.

Why do my thoughts make no sense? Was there a talisman in this room meant to disable her somehow?

She started to rise and then stopped, suddenly feeling weak, exhausted. Sela lay down again with a sigh. Whatever was wrong, she could fix it come morning.

The fire burned down and the moon reached the height of its journey across the sky. Fatigued but unable to sleep, Sela gazed at the ceiling. She heard the scraping sound of stone on stone from the corner of the chamber and sat up. The stones in the corner were moving, as if someone was shoving them from the other side.

Sela rose, eyeing the heavy door she had not noticed before. Creeping towards the main entrance to the chamber, she waited to see who was sneaking into her room before screaming for the guards.

The unnatural exhaustion hit her again, and she stopped and sagged.

“Mage!” The voice was a whisper. A familiar mage-warrior poked his head into the chamber.

“Citon!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing?”

“Come.”

“But I love it here.” The moment the words left her mouth, she was alarmed. “I think … I need help.”

He broke free of the secret passage and crossed to her. Without asking her permission, he lifted her and flung her over his shoulder.

The sense she did not want to leave – ever – intensified. Until she entered the passageway. The magic lacing her thoughts and mastering her body vanished, and she was able to think clearly again.

“Put me down,” she said.

Citon did so.

Sela touched her head, where a headache was blooming. “What did they do to me?”

“Magic of some sort,” answered Vinian. He emerged from the darkness in the direction Citon was headed. The wind mage inclined his head once in greeting, his lips pursed. “Come. We must hurry.”

She had yet to see the mage ruffled, even in the middle of the battle at the village. Sensing there was much danger in what they did, she did not question them. The wind mage led them through the cool passageway. It was silent and musty, wide enough for Citon and tall enough his hair grazed the ceiling.

The tunnel sloped downward before leveling out.

The wind mage stopped. Sela barely caught herself before running into him. Standing on her tiptoes, she saw he stood at another stone wall. He raised a hand and tapped an enormous gold ring against the stone. The sharp ring echoed in the tunnel behind them.

The door grated open.

Sela shivered as she stepped into the moonlight. The night air was cold. A small party awaited them, and her gaze fell to the familiar face of Lord Winlin. He was dressed for traveling like the warriors with him – except his hands were in chains.

“We captured him when he left the hold. Seems he was trying to escape his brother,” the wind mage said with a snort. “Come, water mage.” He strode to a waiting horse and mounted.

Sela stared at Lord Winlin. A trace of the strange magic hovered around him, leaving her no doubt about who had placed a spell on the chamber. She knew nothing of any other kind of magic, aside from that of mages. How had he done it?

Vinian cleared his throat impatiently. Sela waited for him to settle and then slid her foot into the stirrup to mount behind him.

Citon motioned for the party to ride. They did so at a quick pace, headed west again, back towards the Inlands. The lake bid her farewell, and she silently promised to visit it one day.

Sela held onto the wind mage tightly. They did not keep to the roads and wound their way through hills rather than going over them.

She was not the only one who needed discretion, she assessed. Citon rode close to them, gaze taking in their surroundings as if he waited for an ambush.

Only when they’d ridden out of sight of the hold did the mage-warrior pull his blowing horse to a walk. He communicated with his men in hand signals. Two took off, one forward and one behind them, while Citon neared the man guarding the noble.

“What’s going on?” she asked the wind mage quietly.

“Winlin and his brother are not on good terms,” was the amused reply. “The loyalties of the king’s family and their father’s men are split between the two. It's been a quiet war. This is only the latest battle. But it gave us the chance to grab one of them. Prisoners of this nature will make our progress home easier.”

“His father will not challenge you for fear of his son’s life,” she assessed.

“And we can ransom him for gold.”

“Doesn’t your king supply you with gold?”

“Biu is the poorest of the kingdoms. We were given what he could spare, but he couldn’t build an army and support us for moons.”

Sela was beginning to feel as if she did not know anything of the world. Inlanders, enchantments, and a poor king. What other surprises awaited her?

As if sensing her emotional turmoil, the strange magic of the sea whispered by her. It had no real source, except that it came from somewhere in the north. As soon as the sensation brushed her, it was gone. Her mind went to the lake’s claim of an ocean, a memory she could not yet make sense of.

“Hello, again, mage,” Vinian said with a smile. “You escaped us once. It will not happen again.”

She said nothing, grateful to be out of the stuffy hold with its strange enchantments, even if she were back in the company of men she had no intention of staying with for long.

Citon returned to them. “We are splitting into two groups. We will need all the time we can make to escape to the east with our prisoners.”

“Through the blasted Inlands again,” the wind mage complained. “We risk drawing her mage-warrior.”

Citon’s gaze went to her. “The life debts you owe us. We will trade them for our safety from your warrior.”

“What life debts?” she asked.

“We pulled you from the lake and ensured your mage-warrior claimed you,” Vinian claimed.

“You mean, you threw me in front of him and prayed he didn’t kill me,” she snapped.

“He didn’t.”

The wind mage was arrogant. Citon knew the truth. They had helped her for the sole purpose anyone would: because they intended to drag her back to their king.

But … he was right about the life debt. They had rescued her from her own magic.

“You assume I can control him,” she said with a frown. “If it’s possible, then yes, I will prevent him from slaughtering you. This is the longest and farthest apart we have been. I’m not at all certain he will not cut me down beside you. But I would wager all I own that he’ll find us.”

“This is why Inlanders are not mage-warriors!” Vinian snapped. “They have no sense of duty.”

Citon, however, offered a small smile. He wheeled his horse and trotted to Lord Winlin and his guard.

“Lord Winlin. What is he?” Sela asked as Vinian nudged his horse to follow.

“An unbound mage-warrior.”

“He is more, or he wields some kind of magic.”

“You must be strong to be so far from water and still sense magic,” Vinian sounded approving for the first time since they met. “He bought a spell from a sorcerer he claims came from the western continent.”

“The lands no one has ever explored?”

“The very same. The spell lets him alter minds by touching them. He tried his magic on Citon, but my warrior wasn’t vulnerable to it.”

She shivered. “I don’t like that.”

“Nor do I. The guard with him has a talisman to protect him.”

“Is there no honor at all on this island?” she complained.

“I don’t see your king trying to help you,” the wind mage replied archly.

“I’m certain they will send help!” she said. “Or maybe they know how strong my warrior is.”

“Did he really kill two wind mages and their warriors?”

“Yes.”

For once, Vinian seemed uncertain. He shook his head then turned his attention to the mage-warriors conversing a few feet from them. All but one of the other warriors rode northwest.

“Vinian, we need one of your barriers, as discussed,” Citon called to the wind mage.

“If you will forgive me, water mage.” Vinian twisted and gripped her arm to tug her off the horse.

Sela slid down to the ground and stepped back as Vinian urged his horse forward. He disappeared behind a hill. She looked at the mage-warriors. Lord Winlin offered a smile. She eyed him, not trusting him, then gazed up at Citon expectantly.

Citon reached down and hauled her onto his horse behind him. She felt safe with him, maybe because he reminded her of Karav. She settled behind him, ignoring the side of her that knew these men were helping her so they could use her. With Tieran unwilling to take his place at her side, he left her no choice but to choose an ally from among her enemies.

They rode at a quick walk until dawn began to lighten the horizon. The wind mage returned, barreling towards them from the direction they had come. He slowed his horse as he neared, his face flushed.

“It's not who you thought,” he said to Citon when he was close enough. “Lord Winlin’s brother pursues.”

“How close?” Lord Winlin demanded.

“Close enough we dare not stop.”

“He has more than the men at the hold,” the noble said slowly. “How many were there?”

“Twenty, perhaps thirty,” Vinian responded.

“Then he likely has an ambush somewhere ahead. We are close to the keep from which we stole the water mage. It’s possible men await us.”

“If your guardian were here, we could fight them all,” Citon said to Sela.

She was quiet. She had no way of knowing where Tieran was or why he had not come earlier when he sensed her danger.

“My gold is on a small party behind and a large one forward,” Citon said. “I would rather confront what follows.”

“You believe we should turn back and take a second route,” the wind mage said, considering.

“He would not expect it.”

Sela listened.

“You realize you and I alone will have to face this small party?” Vinian asked. “I prefer to avoid both.”

“That’s your mage blood speaking,” Citon said, bemused. “What is a party of thirty men when I can kill half and you can handle the rest?”

“My power draws more attention than your sword,” the wind mage snapped. “We have no one to help us, if we cannot fight them all, or if there’s an ambush behind us as well.”

“If you free me, I will fight,” Lord Winlin said. “My brother wants my head. I defied his order with regards to the water mage.”

Sela eyed him.

“We’ll head west until certain we are no longer tracked and then east once more,” Citon said with a shake of his head. “They’ll expect us to flee towards our kingdom.”

Sela half-listened, not at all interested in where they decided to go. She was trying to sense Tieran as he did her without luck.

Citon altered their course to head east, towards the kingdom of Lord Winlin. They started forward at a quick trot. The sun perched on the horizon when they reached a small thatch of forest. Citon drew his horse to a halt. He swung his leg over the horse’ withers and landed softly on his feet before wrapping an arm around her to pull her down with him.

“Both of you, stay here,” he ordered her and his wind mage gruffly.

Sela did not know what the mage-warrior sensed, but she knew to trust him. Karav always knew when danger was close.

Vinian dismounted, and Sela joined him. He collected the reins of all the horses and draped them over brush and tree branches. Lord Winlin and his guard remained mounted.

“Do you sense anything with your wind magic?” she whispered.

“Lord Winlin’s brother has a wind mage whose sole duty is to block me,” Vinian replied. “Citon will warn me, if he needs my assistance.”

“You and he trust each other a lot,” she marveled.

Vinian glanced at her. “Of course we do.” The haughty edge in his voice irritated her. “Come.” He started in the same direction Citon had gone.

“He said to wait here,” she objected.

“Are you the mage or is Citon?” he challenged. “We do not answer to his kind.”

She stepped forward.

He led her through the forest, creeping over brush and around trees. Sela glanced at the weapons he wore, wishing she had thought to ask Citon for a dagger.

Her fear turned to anger at the idea she might die in this forest this evening, because her own mage-warrior did not want to take his place at her side after forcing her to bond with him. Why should she depend on some other mage’s warrior to fight for her at all? To rescue her from a man using spells to confuse her? Tieran could not have his duty both ways. He had taken away her freedom, yet tried to pretend he had his. If she were not free, then neither was he!

As reluctant as she was to be around him, she also understood that Tieran’s place and prophetic duty was with her, protecting her. Did the oath he took to her mean so little? Where had he gone that he could not come when his uncle’s hold was attacked, or she kidnapped?

Vinian was right. As the mage, she needed to remind her warrior of his duty to her. If she were near the lake again, or a river, she could do more than remind him. She could threaten to drown him until he complied.

Without any source of water to fuel her magic, she was helpless – and frustrated.

A branch snapped beneath her boot, and Vinian froze. She held her breath. He motioned her to the ground, and she knelt awkwardly. Vinian leaned towards her.

“There.” He pointed.

She peered in the direction he indicated. A tiny, dark campsite of less than a dozen men in red cloaks was no more than ten steps ahead of her.

“The wind claims there are twenty more in the forest,” he whispered. “And a wind mage.”

Fascinated, Sela listened for the sounds of Citon launching his attack. Could he handle a force of thirty to forty men? Vinian’s mage powers would be limited by the magic of another wind mage, which left Citon on his own to fight off the men from Lord Qinlin’s force.

The sounds of fighting began from the forest beyond the camp. The men in camp launched to their feet, and she realized the instincts of Citon and Lord Winlin were correct. There was an ambush waiting, disguised as a sleepy camp. Lord Winlin’s brother had either placed men in every direction or predicted where they would go.

Vinian ducked down as one of the men glanced in their direction. He pushed Sela behind a tree. After a moment, his grip loosened. She leaned around the trunk. The camp was vacant, the men charging through the forest towards the sounds of fighting.

“And now, for a distraction,” Vinian said. “Wait here.”

Nervous with the sounds of battle closing in, Sela watched him cross the camp and kneel over the logs at its center. Fire sprang up. Vinian stood back, raising his arms. Air lifted the flames off the earth. Vinian threw the fire into the trees. The leaves caught fire immediately.

Sela spotted the four men charging through the brush towards Vinian, whose focus was on feeding the fire with more wind.

“Mage!” she hissed. “Vinian!”

He did not hear her. She grabbed a small rock and flung it at him. He whirled. She pointed. Vinian’s gaze went to the men emerging from the forest. Magic hummed in the air.

The four stopped at an invisible barrier, pawing at it. One took a sword to it, but the barrier blocked him.

Vinian motioned her forward. Sela went, not about to leave the side of a mage who could block an army. He grabbed her hand and darted towards the forest opposite where they had been, closer to the sounds of battle.

The fire he started arced over their heads and landed at some point ahead. Another blaze grew from the direction they headed, lighting up the battle.

Vinian stopped, and Sela ran into him. He looked behind them.

“Their mage just freed the men,” he said. “Come! Quickly!”

He bolted.

Sela followed. Branches snagged her clothing. She paused to free her braid and tunic from the bramble. Glancing up, she realized Vinian had not waited. He was charging into the battle Citon told them to avoid. Hands shaking at the thought of being diced in two, Sela focused first on freeing herself from the thorns.

Men crashed through the woods behind her, terrifying her. She yanked her tunic free and followed the path Vinian had taken. The heart of the battle was going on in a clearing too small for the two-dozen men within it.

She broke into the clearing and froze, not at all certain where to go. Vinian and the mage-warrior were nowhere in sight. Heart racing, she sensed the man behind her try to grab her and ducked out of his grasp. She darted away.

Tieran! She gave him a mental shout, praying he was able to hear her. Sela cried out as one of her pursuers snatched her arm. She twisted free, but the sword pointed at her throat kept her from moving. The four men surrounded her. Silently, she cursed the wind mage for abandoning her.

“Damn mages.” Citon’s grumble preceded the first strike of his sword.

For once, she agreed with him.

Warm blood splattered her. The men around her turned their attention to him, and he fought them with the patient skill of a trained mage-warrior. There was none of Tieran’s hot wildness in his moves, only cold discipline.

When the four opponents were slain, Citon held out his hand, gaze on the forest around them. She took it, and he pulled her towards the sound of more fighting and stopped beside a tree.

“Stay right here,” he ordered. “Listen to me this time, mage!”

She nodded, shaking from the close call of losing her head.

He darted into the battle.

Sela hunkered down beside the tree.

The battle was focused and tight in one end of the clearing. Citon, joined by both the guard who had been posted with Lord Winlin, and the bound noble himself, fought for a short time. The guard fell into the chaos, and Sela assumed he was dead. The two mage-warriors, stronger than normal men, remained on their feet and fought back-to-back. At some point, Citon relented and cut Lord Winlin free. The two fought side-by-side.

Citon’s head twisted suddenly, an indication the wind mage was in trouble. He slapped Winlin on the shoulder and moved away. Both were swallowed by swarming men in red cloaks.

Sela crept around the tree. It did not seem possible that the two warriors and a mage were going to win this battle. The thirty men they thought awaited them was closer to fifty. While their enemies were falling, it was not fast enough.

Fire reflecting off the long, bluish blade of a familiar broadsword drew her gaze. Sela moved away from the tree, staring in the direction of the side of the battle near the trees across from her. Her heart leapt in her chest, and warmth raced through her.

“Tieran,” she breathed, uncertain why his appearance filled her with the conflicting emotions of exhilaration and dread.