Chapter Nine
The moment Kade left the room, I set about casting a spell. There was no question in my mind that Kade intended to interrogate me, and it wouldn’t be pleasant. Even so, by the time Rowan’s brother returned, I’d be long gone.
Thank you, magick.
My plan was twofold. First, I would cast a finder spell in order to discover where Nan was hiding. Second, I’d transport there. Mlinzi and Walinzi had said something about the exiled.
To find the Sword, you must seek out the exiled Necromancers.
The exiled. I suspected that was more than a random name. If my guess was right, a group of Necromancers were living outside Petra’s control. The woman was out of her mind, after all. I had to imagine some of the Necromancers were clever enough to escape her insanity.
A grand escape—that sounds like exactly the kind of thing my Nan would enjoy.
My eyes stung with emotion. I never thought I’d see Nan again. She’d died back at the Midnight Cloister, thanks to the treachery of its Mother Superior. Was Nan’s death some kind of ruse? Had the Sire of Souls stepped in to help? I couldn’t wait to find out how she’d ended up alive. In the end, it didn’t matter so long as I could see her again. The familiar lines of Nan’s face flashed in my mind: ebony skin, intelligent brown eyes, and a white-toothed smile.
How I longed to see her once more.
My body hummed with a combination of excitement and worry. This was not the moment to contemplate reunions. Kade could return at any second.
I needed to cast and quickly.
Closing my eyes, I reached out with my mage senses. The surrounding area was rich in Necromancer magick. Layers of bones lay hidden in the arid ground—these made the perfect source for my kind of power. Using all my focus, I wrapped my thoughts around the power I wished to take and tried to pull that magick into my body.
I couldn’t. Foreign magick stopped me. Wards.
As Kade had warned, another force lay between me and the power I sought. A webwork of ancient wards encircled the tower. These spells allowed me to reach out with ease, but blocked any magick from entering back inside. Without power in my body, I couldn’t cast.
I probed the net of blocking spells about me. It wasn’t wise to break spells without understanding how they worked. My consciousness spun along the threads of the webwork, checking how each functioned. These wards had been cast by a senior-level mage, but they were far too old to stop someone like me. Like any long-standing spell, wards needed to be refreshed with energy from time to time. No one had been keeping these strong.
Good for me.
Keeping the magick firm in my mind, I sent my power tearing back through the wards around the tower. I then pulled fresh magick back into me. Energy careened through my limbs until every corner of my body felt charged. Using my Necromancer training, I sent that energy toward my hands. New magick prickled along my skin like the brush of a thousand needles. Soon, the bones in my hands and forearms glowed with blue light.
The time had come to cast my spell. There were various kinds of finders that I could choose from. One of the most powerful was a Blue Oracle, a floating skull covered in sapphires that would answer any questions. Blue Oracles could not only help pinpoint where someone was hiding, but they would also share all the key facts about to approach them. I opened my mouth, ready to speak the words to the spell.
No sound came from lips.
The words to the spell simply didn’t appear in my mind.
I racked my memory. There was no way I could forget this particular spell. My Mother Superior, Petra, had drilled me on it for months. In fact, Petra kept me awake for six consecutive days until I got the wording, tone, and intention just right. By the time my training on this spell was over, I was reciting it in my sleep, much to the sadness of the other elderly sisters who shared my same dormitory room.
How could I forget those words?
I shook my head. No matter. Today had certainly been a trying one. My true mate had just stared at me like I was a total stranger. That would enough to make anyone forget a few things. Besides, there were other finder spells I could cast. For example, the spell for Rune Bones would be just as helpful. In this casting, the bones wouldn’t actually speak like the Blue Oracle, but they would spell out words. I’d get the information I needed. It would simply take a bit longer. Nothing to worry about. I took in a deep breath, ready to say that incantation.
Again, I couldn’t remember a word.
My heartbeat sped. This couldn’t be right. Surely, I could remember a single finder spell. I listed out every finder spell in the Necromancer lexicon.
Mystic Cloud.
Orb Of Insight.
Stylus Of The Seer.
In each case, I knew the spell and how it worked, but I couldn’t recall a single word of the incantations that actually made them come to pass. Panic tightened every muscle in my torso.
Stay calm, Elea. Perhaps it was just the finder spells that were giving me trouble for some reason. I then focused on basic spells any Novice could master.
Fireball.
Bone Shield.
Detect Mage.
Again, I knew what the spells were. I could remember learning them. Still, I couldn’t recall a single word of the incantations that made them function. I stared at my hands, which still glowed with blue power. Pulling in magick and directing it inside my body was something that took me years to master. How could I operate as a Grand Mistress Necromancer in some ways but not in others? The answer appeared to me in a flash.
Mlinzi and Walinzi.
The trickster gods had said they would take two memories. Jicho confirmed that the first was removing knowledge of my identity from anyone in the Caster community. Was the second any memory of how to actually cast a spell?
It had to be. There was no other explanation for me losing so many incantations at once. This wasn’t magick that I’d ever heard of, either from a Necromancer or a Caster. It had to be something unique created by the trickster gods.
Bands of despair tightened around my chest. Mlinzi and Walinzi left me with the power to sense magick, but took away my ability actually do something useful with it.
Tricksters, indeed.
With a sigh, I released the magick from my body. Power rolled out from my fingertips in a cascade of blue sparks. The tiny lights faded as they reentered the environment. Within seconds, the skin on my arms and hands looked normal once again.
I shook my head. I may appear normal, but I felt anything but.
Thanks to Mlinzi and Walinzi, I wasn’t a regular mortal anymore, but I wasn’t a mage, either. My powers were trapped someplace in between. It all seemed so useless and cruel. Perhaps the trickster gods had lied about wanting to assist me. After all, I only had their word that they felt the Sire and Lady threatened their world.
A knock sounded at the door. “May I enter?” My breath caught as I recognized the voice. Rowan.
An odd mixture of excitement, terror, and desire moved through me. “Come in.”
Rowan pushed open the door and stepped inside. I scanned his face carefully, desperate for any sign that he recognized me as his mate. There was none. I’d learned to gauge Rowan’s expressions, and the look he wore now? It said that I was nothing but an interloper and threat.
Rowan leaned against the closed door. For some reason, he’d changed out of his long cape and leather kilt. My brows lifted in surprise. Rowan always liked to face foreigners in his formal garb. But for some reason, he had changed into his typical Caster leathers, which consisted of brown pants, heavy boots, and a fitted jacket. Weapons were strapped all over his body.
Rowan stepped slowly around the space, stomping on the floorboards a few times. They creaked and swayed. This was classic Rowan. He was sizing up how well this place could hold me if I decided to physically tear the room apart. Based on how the wood crackled under his weight, the answer was obvious. This tower had not been kept well. Plus, based on how the floorboards shifted under Rowan’s prodding, the place was probably originally built to store goods, not keep prisoners. No doubt, I could easily find a way out if I stayed here too long.
The thought made me pause. I remembered Rowan’s words earlier.
“One misstep and our deal will become forfeit.”
Was Rowan trying to set me up to betray him? Trying to escape would certainly count as a misstep. And placing me in a storage chamber instead of a prison tower was essentially inviting one.
Rowan paused at the open window-hole, inspecting the dark grounds below. “Too many guards,” he murmured. “And too close to the wall.”
“You want the guards farther away.”
Rowan rounded on me. “Don’t you?”
“You’re trying to tempt me into making a misstep, just like you warned me before. Once I try to escape, you can torture and kill me without breaking your word.”
“Yes, and I have every confidence you’ll miss that step and soon.” Rowan leaned out the window and whistled three short notes. It was one of the codes used between Kade and Rowan. In this case, Rowan was ordering his brother to send the guards away for a while.
“Consider me sorely tempted.” It didn’t seem wise to keep talking about being Rowan’s mate. I knew how the man’s mind worked. If I came on too strong, Rowan would take that as a sure sign that I was Viktor’s spy.
Rowan folded his arms across his chest, a movement that made his leathers creak. “You should have been gone by now. Why are you still here?”
My mind reeled through this statement. The fact that Rowan had changed from his royal garb now made perfect sense. “You expected me to transport away from here. That’s why you changed clothes. You were planning to track me.” It was a good plan. By following where I went, Rowan could probably get better information than interrogation. And afterward, Rowan would be free to interrogate and kill me at his leisure.
Rowan crossed the room in a few quick strides, pausing to stand right before me. I could feel his warmth radiate over my body. “Why are you still here, Necromancer? The wards aren’t strong enough to keep you.”
There was no point in lying. Rowan could easily cast any of a dozen spells to make me tell the truth. Since he was asking the question, he was waiting to see if I’d volunteer an honest answer on my own.
“I’m here because I’m your mate, and yes, I’m a Grand Mistress Necromancer as well. I went to see Mlinzi and Walinzi to ask them where to find the Sword of Theodora. They took all the Casters’ memories of me in exchange for information on where to find the Sword.” I met his intense gaze straight on. “I’m not your enemy.”
Rowan tilted his head. “That didn’t answer my questions about the wards.”
“No, it didn’t.” I hated to share the truth here, as it made me even more vulnerable. I didn’t see any choice, though. “Mlinzi and Walinzi took more than the Casters’ memory as payment. I can’t recall a single incantation.” I shook my head. “I can pull in power, but not cast a spell.”
Rowan stared at me for a long moment. “I don’t believe you.”
Those words shouldn’t have hurt as much as they did. After all, Rowan couldn’t help that his mind had been wiped of any memory of me. Still, there had to be a way to convince him. I tapped the ring on my finger. “See this? It used to be a mating band. Now it’s a totem ring from Mlinzi and Walinzi. You have a matching one.”
Rowan’s gaze flicked to his hand. “I have a ring with an orange metallic sheen. Unlike yours, it has no carvings of monkeys on it. I fail to see how that proves anything.”
I lifted my hand, palm forward. “Then touch me with intent. Your energy will flow into mine. That’s mate power, and it doesn’t require an incantation in order to work. Give me a chance and you’ll see—we’re true mates.”
Rowan stared at my palm. The moment hung in its own little eternity. It took all my strength not to simply grasp his palm, but that’s not how shared power worked. Rowan needed to want our magick to combine.
My hand began to tremble. “Please, Rowan.”
Another long moment passed. Rowan’s gaze locked with mine, and pure rage lit up his eyes. “I won’t deny you’re casting some kind of spell on me. My thoughts keep pulling me to you. It isn’t right.”
“It’s the bond.” My voice broke with grief.
“No, it’s a spell. Another invention of Viktor’s, no doubt. I wish I could interrogate you myself, but that won’t be possible as long as I’m under this enchantment. But don’t worry…Your master will not infiltrate my mind like he did so many of my senior Casters. I will not be led away from my people.”
“I don’t want that, Rowan. I’m here to help.”
“What you think you want is of no consequence. I’m sending some of the palace mages to interrogate you, and they’ll cast Thought Blade spells. You know how those work, don’t you?”
“You wouldn’t.” Thought Blades were an excruciating way to die. You relived every agony of your life at once until both your mind and body fell apart.
“I won’t. But my mages will soon enough.” His voice lowered. “Even so, you won’t be here when they arrive, will you? That story about not being able to remember incantations; I don’t believe it for a second. Go on, escape. I’ll find you and your master Viktor, no matter where you hide.”
“No, please.” My thoughts raced through everything I knew of Rowan. There must be some way to convince him. Sadly, I couldn’t think of a thing. “Thought Blades are vicious castings. The palace mages will ruin my mind.”
“Do you know what Viktor did to our families? Many of the Casters he lured away went insane, thanks to his experiments. The lucky ones died. You have no right to complain.”
I scrubbed my hands over my face. “I know.” When my hands dropped, Rowan had moved closer to me than ever before. If I went on tiptoe, I could brush my lips against his.
“And that’s what makes you so dangerous, Necromancer. I believe that you do understand.”
At those words, my heart cracked. In our quietest moments, Rowan told me how I was the only person to break through his lonely life as ruler, sharing his heart and burdens. Hope sparked in my soul. Perhaps some part of Rowan knew who I truly was. The weight of my mate’s responsibility and loneliness seemed to age him before my eyes.
Suddenly, a flicker of movement happened in the periphery of the room, catching my interest. In the open window frame, two large green eyes were staring at me from outside the window. Jicho. The boy had somehow climbed up the outer rock wall and was waiting to come inside. He couldn’t stay there for long before the guards spotted him, even if they had been sent away.
Rowan noticed my gaze shifting. “What are you looking at?” He started to turn around, and if he did, he’d see Jicho. No doubt, Rowan would put his younger brother under lock and key, and not let Jicho speak to me freely. Rowan had made that more than clear before when Jicho first approached me at the Caster festival.
I needed to distract Rowan and fast.
Moving quickly, I wrapped my arms around Rowan’s neck and pulled him in for a delicate kiss. It was nothing more than a feather-soft touch, but I felt the warmth of Rowan’s mouth through every part of my being. He stepped away from me as if I’d stuck him with a dagger.
“You…I can’t…” Rowan shook his head and sped from the room. The moment the door slammed, I felt as if part of my life had been torn away. I’d pushed too hard to force that kiss. Now Rowan would see that as further validation that I really was some sort of spy from Viktor. Damn.
“Elea,” whispered Jicho. “Help!”
I gasped. In my turmoil about Rowan, I’d forgotten all about Jicho hanging from the outside of the tower. I raced over to the open window, hoping that if I couldn’t help Rowan, perhaps I could at least do something for his little brother.
After all, things weren’t looking too bright for me. I knew Rowan. Right now, he was undoubtedly meeting with the palace mages, giving them instructions to do whatever they wanted, so long as they uncovered every secret in my head.
And those Thought Blade spells would indeed uncover my every memory. But they’d kill me in the process, and fast.