Chapter 23


The servant who rushed to answer the call of the newest arrival at the Keep, nearly stumbled and fell over his feet when he saw who it was. "M-master sorcerer," he stammered, only good training and long experience making his hands reach out as of their own accord to take the sorcerer's knapsack and carry it for him.

"Good evening. I assume there are quarters ready for me?"

"Naturally, sorcerer Aron," he managed without a stutter. "This way."

As they walked through the hallway and up the stairs, the sorcerer asked, "Why is it so quiet? Where is everybody?"

The servant glanced over his shoulder. "The Prince left yesterday morning, pursuing the Iloron force."

If he'd expected a more surprised answer, he was sure to be disappointed when all the sorcerer said was, "Ah." Although there was a frown on his lined face.

"Mm, yes. The siege ended just the day before and the Prince wanted to make sure they'd really leave. Took a good-sized force too." He wondered at how the sorcerer didn't know about the siege.

"That explains the state of the wall and the burnt buildings."

"Yes, master sorcerer."

They were at the sorcerer's door now and the servant opened it and stepped aside. The man looked around for a moment, then took his knapsack from the servant's hands. "Thank you. I will speak to the chamberlain in the morning," he said with the frown still on his face, and closed the door.

The servant stood blinking for a moment, not sure what he should do. But he'd not been given further instructions so he assumed it safe leave and go back to the kitchens.

Odd, the way they behaved, these sorcerers; he hadn't asked for any of his fellows. But that was the way of the sorcerers, not anything a lowly servant could do about it.


* * * * * * * *


Will hurried along the corridor, cursing under his breath and hardly aware of it. The light from the Firekin showed him nothing more than straight walls and stone. He didn't encounter any more traps either, and that too frustrated and alarmed him. How far had he gone? How much further could it be? He wished desperately for Ashiná, but no matter how he called for her she didn't answer.

He began to feel tired, worn out even in his spells, and he feared he would be useless if he'd have to go into a fight now.

He began to hear footsteps, ones that fell out of synch with the echoes of his own. Like the audible traces of men that had passed here before him. He supposed a place like this, mystical and filled with the strangest incarnations of magic, could hold the remnants of such things, like it had a memory of its own.

Then the sudden, muffled sound of footsteps just behind him made him come to an abrupt halt and spin around. Cursing his bad luck, he held the Firekin higher to search the corridor behind him. But there was no one there. Will stared, eyes wide, tense and on guard for the sudden flash of movement, the smallest sound of breathing. Nothing.

And yet he sensed it. He stood listening, the orb of light flickering in his exhaustion and distraction. They moved right past him, intermittent sounds of heavy boots, stumbling, walking, hurrying along the path he was on, and Will started backwards, holding his breath and pressing his back against the wall as if letting someone past.

The footfalls stopped somewhere up ahead, then incredulously they were scrabbling at the stones for purchase as they went up the wall. Will frowned and cautiously headed that way.

A flicker of movement, something swaying ten feet off the floor, and Will readied the Firekin spell.

But when his light fell upon it he could do nothing but stare. His insides felt cold all of a sudden and something worryingly like fear prickled down his neck. Something was suspended in the air, strings of magic holding it aloft, and Will was reluctant to take it down, touch it, for it looked eerily familiar.

Grey and torn and soiled dark with old, dried blood. He knew it was his old coat, the one he'd worn during the ambush at the Knee, the one he'd worn when he'd almost died. His life-blood was on that coat.

But how had it come to be here? Who could have taken it and why? They were all disturbing questions and he feared the answers would be too.

The footsteps again, and again they went past him and up the wall. Like a guide of sound to make sure he truly found this horrifying thing. He hesitated to destroy it, but he couldn't leave it here for fear of how it could be used. In a cold sweat and with his teeth clenched, he set fire to it; the grey cloth burst into flame with a sickening green and purple light. It felt so wrong to watch his own coat burn, bile rising in his throat, and he left as the last of it lay smoldering on the cold stone floor.


And suddenly there was no more corridor. He stopped with a gasp. There was nothing but an end and a wooden door. He stood blinking at it for a long moment, shocked, uncomprehending that this might be his destination. He put a hesitant, trembling hand to the damp wood, searching for energies that might tell him what this was. But it was just an ordinary door.

He turned his back on it, breath coming in large gulps. Had he taken a wrong turn somewhere, missed some clue? Surely this could not be it. After the traps and the coat he'd prepared himself for something vicious waiting for him at the end. He spun and slammed a fist against the door, dislodging dust from the stones above him.

There was a muffled, rattling sound from the other side, and Will pressed his ear to the wood with a bit-off cry. Oh, gods of mercy. He grabbed for the handle and tried it, but it was locked.

"Kell!" he shouted and slapped the door again. He thought he heard a voice, but what if he imagined it? What if this was another trap? He did not wish to see what might come out at him if he opened the door.

And what if it was not. What if Kell truly was waiting for him inside? Will gritted his teeth and searched for the lock and bolt, Earthkin grabbing it and sliding it out of place, buckling a bit and splintering the wood around it.

The door opened on creaking hinges and Will took a cautious step back, hands held in front of him and ready to release his defense. And nothing happened. Adrenaline prickled at his elbows as it ebbed away. He let out a shuddering breath and slowly edged around the door.

It was a dull sort of twilight on the other side, and after the dark corridor and the bright light of his own Firekin, it took sorcerer's sight a moment to adjust. It was a round room with damp, moldy walls of stone and little else. But there on the floor, a shape huddled against the cold. Will barely dared breathe as he stepped towards it.

"Gods. Kell!" He hardly remembered taking the last few steps before he fell to his knees by the prince's unmoving body. "Sweet Fates, merciful Fates, don't let me be too late," he whispered fervently, his hands moving along Kell's body, his limbs, searching for a wound, an injury. Kell was cold, unconscious, and blindfolded, but alive, and seemed whole except for the bruises on his arms and face, and the abrasions from the shackles around his wrists and ankles. "Kell? Please, wake up." Will carefully pulled off the offending cloth around his face and moved him to lie in his lap.

There was a sickly, sweet stench of sweat and fear about him, and Will realized from the states of his clothes that he'd soiled himself at some point. He ached for the prince, rocked him a bit and pressed his lips to his temple. "I'll get you out of here."

He was reluctant to put him back down on the floor but had no choice if he was to free him from the chains. He bent over Kell's arm, turning the smooth metallic band around to find the lock, but he couldn't see one. He sent a small tendril of Spiritkin into it and the metal crackled as the spell recoiled off it. Kell moaned in pain, his face contorting with it.

"Kell!" Will laid a trembling hand to the prince's face, caressing the pale cheek. "I'm here. Please, wake up." But the prince didn't, after a moment he fell silent again.

"Gods." Will looked around desperately and saw the chains disappearing into holes in the floor. He crawled over, tugging at the chains to test their anchoring, and heard Kell cough. He stopped, casting a worried look at Kell. He realized then that the chain running from Kell's hands was the same chain attached to the band around his throat. Anger welled in him at the disgusting way the prince had been treated, and he had to clench his hands not to do unintentional harm to someone he cherished. Distantly he realized how hysterically he was behaving, but there was no time to mend his ways.

He returned to Kell's side and ran his hands down the length of the chain again, searching for a weak link, a chink in the metal that would break if he put pressure on it. He used Earthkin now and when he thought he found it, he slowly let the spell go.

Kell cried out and trashed, his legs tensing to the point of snapping and his head pressing back against the floor.

"Kell! No! Stop! Oh, gods of mercy! Stop!" Will grabbed his shoulders, holding on to his body as the spasms slowly subsided. He leaned over the prince, panting from effort and fear, staring at the now slack face of the man he loved. "What is this?" he whispered, trembling, desperate and terrified.

He sat back on his heels but didn't dare let go yet, needing that contact to steady himself. How could he break the chains if touching them with magic had this effect on the prince? How could he unlock them when there was no lock?

"Ashiná?" he whispered. "I need your help." But she didn't answer.

There was a sound from the other side of the door and he started upright. There it was again, like stones falling to the floor. Cautiously he rose and went to the door, looking around it into the dark corridor. At first he couldn't see what it was, but as he made a spell of Firekin, flickering weakly with his draining powers, he saw the reflection of water running towards him over the floor. Will gasped. The flow was growing slowly, filling the corridor from wall to wall, and he heard yet another stone fall somewhere out of sight. The barrier he had pulled up around the crack in the wall, it must have broken.

With no other way out he had no choice now; he had to break the chains or they would both drown, for he would not leave Kell here alone. He pushed the door closed as well as it could be with the broken bolt and pulled at the wall and floor to seal it. With his waning magic he didn't know how long it would hold, but he had no time to waste making it any better.

Casting about for something, a loose rock, a splinter of wood, anything mundane to break the chains, he turned to look towards the ceiling and realized there was none.

Of course! The well where he'd first seen Kell. If only he could free the prince he could levitate them both out that way. Trying to ignore the creaking of the door behind him, he bent again over Kell, gripping the chains in both hands. He took a precious moment to calm himself before looking around again. Kell had nothing on him that might help him, no dagger or a belt buckle; they hadn't even left him his boots.

With a gasp his hand flew to his own belt and the dagger there. How could he have been so stupid! Sharican had told him to never use the dagger as a weapon, but surely this was not such a situation. He hesitated then. The dagger itself was not magical even if the blade had been forged to be forever sharp. He had no idea how that was achieved, but didn't think any magic lingered from so long ago.

"Kell, if this doesn't work..." he whispered. But no, he could not say it. Behind him the water was making the door groan. Don't think about that!

He pressed the blade into the ring of a link and twisted it. At first nothing happened except for the sound of metal against metal. With a curse he leaned harder against the hilt and twisted again. He felt the link start giving way, bending to the blade. A spark flew and he started backwards with a cry. Kell lay unmoving. No time to think about it, water was trickling from the cracks around the door; he could smell it.

With a grimace and a savage twist of the blade, the chain broke. The end slithered down the hole in the floor by Kell's head and Will heard it land not far below. He sat panting for a moment before grabbing the chain by Kell's hands to free them. It took hardly any effort at all this time and Will wondered if whatever magic had held it together had weakened already.

There was the loud crack of wood and the water started flowing into the room like a living thing hunting them. Will gathered Kell close and watched it, took deep breaths to gather his strength, as the water spread across the floor towards them. He the gathering of his Airkin spells wouldn't suffocate them both, prayed he was strong enough to levitate the two of them; the well was deep and he knew not what spells might line it further up.

But he had no choice, the water was only feet away and Will smelled the rot floating in it. One breath, another, and he let his Airkin spells lift them both off the floor. For a moment it looked as if the water was rising more swiftly than he had anticipated, reaching for his boots, but then his spells took hold and they were rising higher.

Daylight spilled over the edge of the well and Will strove towards it, feeling his strength leaving him with every breath. Just a few yards more, a few feet. Gods of mercy, grant me strength.

With a cry like in pain Will levitated them over the edge and they landed gracelessly in a heap on the grass. He held onto the prince with trembling arms, panting and sweating, and not sure he could stand anytime soon.

~Will!~

~Ashiná?~ It was such a relief to hear her voice again he almost cried. "I have him. He's alive."

~Yes. Will. I was afraid...~

"I couldn't hear you. Where did you go?"

~There was something shutting me out, I couldn't follow you inside the tower.~

Will nodded tiredly. It didn't matter now.


He couldn't tell how long he sat there. He was aware of time ticking by, in the breeze through the grass, in the slow, shallow breaths of the body he held tight to his chest. But he was unable to do more than breathe and try to gather some strength to get up, to move.

And he had to move, soon. He didn't know what the chains were or how they affected Kell, but Will could not bear to see the metal against his skin for much longer, it fairly tore at him to see such a crime. How anyone would dare shackle the prince heir in such a manner.

Will lifted his head and looked around. The glade seemed much the same as before he'd gone down the tower, like the sun hadn't moved more than a hand span. He could sense the horse from the other side of the glade, and he twisted to look for it.

~Ashiná?~ he asked, needing to reassure himself of her presence.

~I'm here, Will.~

He nodded and carefully put Kell down. He had to fetch the horse. It was a struggle to gain his feet, and he stood swaying for a moment as small, bright spots danced before his eyes. "Gods," he hissed, a hand to his forehead. He was suddenly so very tired.

The horse whinnied softly as he came towards it, a few twigs and leafs stuck in its mane and tail, as if it had wandered around the forest for a while. The coat was dirty with dried mud, but the animal seemed glad to see him. Will considered pulling some water for it and just the thought made him nauseous.

"I need your legs now, my friend," he murmured and scratched its neck. He got a soft snort as in answer, and Will took it for agreement.

It took him several tries before he could get Kell safely on the horse, wrapped in the blanket, his own arms wrapped around the prince's chilled, slack body. He fumbled with the reins but the horse seemed as eager to leave as he was, and headed out the clearing of its own accord.

He felt nothing of the strange magic or the sound and pressure going out that he'd felt coming in. He supposed the ward only worked to keep people out. But if so, how had he been able to cross it?

It didn't matter right then, his most important task right now was to bring Kell safely back. How far would he have to go before Rión found them? They couldn't be far behind, he hoped. They'd had a day and a night to prepare and follow him.

He was unable to tell how long they'd ridden, the sun seemed to fade in and out of view between the trees, the light bright, then dim, and bright again. He realized he must have been dozing, losing stretches of time and having no idea which way they'd gone. It alarmed him how tired he was, his magic so drained it threatened to pull him into hibernation. He couldn't allow it! Not before Kell was safe. He tightened his arms around the prince and urged the horse on.

Will jerked his head up and cursed under his breath; he'd dozed off again. But something had pulled him back, made him become aware. The prince was whimpering, his breath shallow and quick, and his skin was no longer cool but worryingly hot. Will felt a spike of dread and steered the horse to the nearest tree for shelter.

He nearly fell as he got them both out of the saddle, sinking on weak legs to the ground with Kell clutched close.

At first he couldn't tell what was wrong. He frowned in concern and leaned closer over Kell. But then he felt it; the fluttering in his chest where Kell had been present was dwindling, waning. Will made a sound of distress. He searched for the elusive feeling of a presence inside, but the place where it used to be was growing emptier by the moment.

Kell was dying. Life was slowly leaving the listless limbs, like blood draining away from some invisible wound. He tried to see it, use his sorcerer's vision, but it was only an indistinct blur and he gave up.

He realized he was crying and didn't even have the strength to stop. Will understood now the fear and helplessness Kell must've felt when Will had been hurt again and again. It wasn't something he had ever thought to experience.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," he whispered against Kell's hair. "I'm sorry, so sorry."

How could he stop the unthinkable from happening? He felt desperation overwhelm him for a moment, breath coming in harsh gasps. But there was only one answer, one path to take if he was to save the prince.

"Take from me, and give to me..."

~Will!~ Ashiná gasped, as Will began to murmur an age-old oath.

"...ties that bind, strings uncut..."

~Please, Will.~

"...through Time and Life, to me be Bound..."

She said no more, knowing no other words or deeds could save the prince.

"...in sleep, in rest, in peace, in death no more."

He lifted his head to look at Kell's face. In some deep part of his mind he wondered at how easily the words had come back to him, guiltily memorized from an old text found in Sharican's shelves so many years ago.

There was no immediate change; no rumbling of the earth or light from the heavens to let him know the Bond was complete. But he knew what to do now. Will drew his dagger and cut his own finger, wincing as the blade sliced deeper than he had intended. Blood welled out and he gingerly held the finger to Kell's pale lips. He hesitated for one precious moment, a shiver running down his spine, but it needed to be done. He pressed the fingertip past Kell's lips, touching it to his tongue. He couldn't say if he imagined it, but it felt like a pin had pricked deep into the wound, and startled he pulled the finger out again.

Blood smeared over Kell's lip and chin, and Will stared at it, a ringing beginning in his ears. Ashiná murmured to him but he could hardly hear her. Like in a daze he picked up one of Kell's hands and pressed the blade to his thumb. A red bead rose and Will put his mouth to it before he could think any further.

Copper and salt spread over his tongue and then the pain hit. Ache stabbed through his gut, knotting it savagely. The sting and burn of bruised and abraded skin, the bones of his wrists and ankles throbbed, and he felt cold and hot, clammy and sweaty in turn. He reeled where he sat as it all suddenly eased off to only a distant sensation. He waited a moment before straightening carefully, looking at Kell, but the prince didn't wake.

~It's his pain you're feeling,~ Ashiná murmured. ~His hunger and exhaustion.~

She was right; if he concentrated he could almost separate his own weariness from these new feelings. "Why doesn't he wake?"

~The shackles. They must still be suspending him. As long as you are alive, he will remain in this condition, but he will not die.~

"Like he's trapped." Between the magic of the shackles and the ties of the Bond. But there was no way to break the offending metal, not while Will was so tired.

He moved his hand to Kell's heart, feeling it stutter. He found himself counting each faint thud, his fingers pressing into Kell's chest, as if he could reach inside and help it continue beating. He willed it to go on, become stronger, beat in rhythm to Kell's breaths.

In rhythm to his own heart; instinct told him to pull on it, put its essence next to his own in that place inside where Kell belonged. As long as you are alive, Ashiná had said. Even if Will slipped into hibernation now, Kell would live with him. No one but Will could break the bond, and he didn't wish to.

It horrified him, in a distant sort of way, that he felt this way when only a handful of weeks before he had been so terrified of ever binding Kell to himself.

It didn't matter now. Kell was what mattered. He allowed himself a moment to just sit there and breathe, a moment that nearly stretched longer, before he forced himself back on the horse.


* * * * * * * *


Darkness was falling and he was afraid he'd have to stop soon, even though he knew he'd probably not have the strength to keep watch through the night. Kell didn't feel as cold anymore, but neither was he showing any signs of awareness. Will was afraid the binding had drained him of what little strength he had left, and he would slip into hibernation.

Then the horse started under him, making him clutch at its mane. There were noises up ahead, flickering lights making him blink. Torches; men walking carelessly through the trees and underbrush. But were they friend or foe? Will moaned in desperation for he hadn't a chance of fighting them off, and then the moment for flight was gone; they had been spotted.

Men crowded around the horse, men carrying the Queen's seal on their coats; Adeban soldiers lifting their torches high enough to recognize their prince, and within what seemed like moments Will's horse was guided into a small, temporary camp. Cheers went up around them and hands reached to take Kell from Will's arms. He hesitated but knew he was of no more use.

Then Piotry was there, grasping at Will's arm, talking to him, his eyes worried. Will tried to tell him, explain, but he could hear how slurred his words were, how faint his voice sounded.

There were hands on him now, grasping, supporting, as he slid down off the horse. Down, down... into darkness.


* * * * * * * *

End of Book One

| previous |

copyright © Marie 'Mim' Efverstedt