Betrayal's Price (In Deception's Shadow Book 1) (13 page)

Ashayna didn’t
find Marsolwyn’s jest amusing. Distracted by the lupwyn, she missed Queen
Talnarra’s approach. The phoenix’s curt command to relax and close her eyes
resonated along Ashayna’s nerves, causing a betraying twitch in her hands.

She closed her
eyes, though no command could make her relax. In the darkness behind her closed
eyes, she waited for some sound or sense of movement to betray the others’
positions. With a soft brush of fingers against her temples, another’s magic
flowed into her mind.

Queen Talnarra
searched with a thorough determination, peeling back the years of Ashayna’s
life one memory at a time. Memories of an increasingly younger self flowed
before her mind’s eye—early adolescence, a seven-year-old girl brandishing her
first sword, a child holding two daggers, a baby’s first cry, the first flutter
of a tiny heart.

Ashayna
shuddered at the invasion. It lasted only moments, but in the short span of
time she was certain Queen Talnarra relived her entire life, learning all there
was to know, even the essence of her soul.

“You are
worthy. One so fierce and steadfast is hard come by. I am proud to welcome you
among us.” Queen Talnarra’s expression softened, her smile even held a hint of
warmth. “It is not as we had feared. You are not the Destroyer born again. Her
power was too great. None of us would have been able to get past her shields,
even with the sacred waters’ aid. Instead, we have been given a bright young
host for a powerful new Larnkin. Likely you are her first host; may you learn
much together in this life.” With a regal nod of her head, Queen Talnarra
turned and walked away.

Marsolwyn
stepped into the space the phoenix had vacated and grasped Ashayna’s arm,
guiding her back along the path. “Come, they will be done with Sorntar shortly.
Once the water’s affect wears off, we can collect him and go find some dinner.”

They’d almost
reached the main chamber when an enraged scream split the silence. In a blur of
motion, Marsolwyn dropped to all fours and ran ahead. Ashayna’s heart surged
into full gallop. Without thinking, she pursued Marsolwyn. The main chamber was
devoid of life, but a glimpse of motion lured her to another passage. Darting
into the new tunnel, Ashayna ran blindly until her eyes adjusted to the dark. Ahead,
a lupwyn guard was running fast, pulling farther away with each stride.

Another scream
echoed off the walls, high pitched and angry—a bird of prey’s cry. Her Larnkin
roused at the sound. Sorntar needed her.

Several paces
in front of her, the guard came to an abrupt halt. She didn’t know what—short
of a wall—would stop his momentum so quickly. He hung in the air a moment, then
suddenly flew backward. She braced herself against the nearest wall as the
hapless guard flew past. He continued until the tunnel forked and he hit a wall
with the grisly sound of flesh meeting stone.

A half breath
later, another winged fury rushed past, this one in complete control of his
momentum. Sorntar ignored her and continued to stalk the fallen guard as if she
wasn’t standing within touching distance. He reached down for the dazed guard.
One hand closed on the lupwyn’s shoulder, the other disappeared in the thick
ruff of fur around his neck.

“Sorntar, no!”

He glanced over
his shoulder, and then back to his victim.

That one short
look was enough to confirm her fears. A killing rage darkened his eyes.

Words from her
first magic lesson, just days old, returned in her moment of need.

One bondmate
couldn’t harm the other.

For the love of
the gods, let it be true.

Ashayna burst
into motion. She hit him with a full body tackle and drove him off his prey
with a combination of surprise, momentum, and a lot of luck. He stumbled a few
paces, then caught himself and turned towards her. His feathers quivered with
rage. Even his eyes glowed with it. A rumbling hiss issued from his mouth.

She backed
away, retreating toward the more spacious council chambers. If they were going to
fight, she wanted more room.

Sorntar echoed
her motion.

What had they
done to him? Even when he’d been bitten by numerous wardlen, he hadn’t lost
control so badly.

Just as Ashayna
led Sorntar from the dark tunnel and back into the council chambers, a mixed
group of guards and elders arrived. A rising tide of magic burned along the
back of her throat, the pulsing power strong enough to steal her breath.

“The Priestess
overstepped her station.”

Another’s
thoughts invaded Ashayna’s mind. They were not Sorntar’s, but strangely
familiar all the same. Magic’s scorching scent increased another notch. A
sudden lack of moisture in the air warned her Sorntar’s Larnkin was about to
launch an attack.

“Sorntar, no.
No!” Even as she called out to him, she desperately summoned her power and let
it flow outwards to where he stood. When the first wave touched him, it didn’t
calm him like she hoped. Still, it gained his attention, drawing him from his
lethal awareness of the others. It took all her stubborn will to meet his gaze.

“What did they
do to make you strike out at your own kind?” Conviction thickened her voice, though
she kept it devoid of accusation.

“They
assaulted my host, caused him pain, and sought a way to take knowledge from me.”
His mental voice, though still harsh, was somewhat calmer, some of
his deadly intensity receded.

“They merely
wished to determine if it would be safe for us to be trained as mages.”

“They
burrowed too deeply, damaged my host.”
His offended
growl caused the guards to shift their fighting stances ever so slightly in
readiness.

With hands held
palms up, empty of any weapons, Priestess Halnora stepped between Sorntar and
the guards. “Crown Prince Sorntar, I ask forgiveness for any insult I offered.
Your Larnkin is close to waking. His volatile magic forced me to probe deeper
than was wise, but we needed to find the truth. In the end, I touched the
source of your power and found nothing of darkness.” She bowed until her crest
brushed the floor.

Sorntar pushed
past the priestess.

His gaze locked
onto Ashayna’s. His thoughts touched hers for only a few heartbeats. But it was
long enough to learn they had been bonded once before. To banish any doubts
others may have had about his conviction, he released another wave of power
which dripped off every feather and danced along his skin.

The sight,
though formidable, was one she had seen before. Of greater concern was what he
had revealed to her with his words and thoughts. His allusion, to having known
her Larnkin at some point in the past, contradicted what Queen Talnarra had
said about her possessing a young Larnkin yet to be bonded.

The stranger
wearing Sorntar’s body stepped closer. No one moved to stop him. With his power
raging around him, there was no one who could sense the difference—this wasn’t
about guidance or protecting a host, it was total possession. She shot a
questioning look at Halnora.

“Priestess?”

Halnora glanced
at Ashayna. “Sorntar will not harm you. A newly awakening Larnkin can cause one
to act out of character; even one with a gentle spirit can inflict much damage
if enraged.”

The priestess’s
words confirmed her fears. Even powerful council members were blinded to what
lay in front of them. They could not feel what she felt—that something other
than Sorntar stood before her.

A now-familiar
power reached out to her, like a warm blanket cocooning her from the other
minds in the room.

“Larnkin,
what are you doing?”

“I never
could hide anything from you,”
he whispered into
her mind.
“But the priestess is correct. I would never harm you. I simply
wish for a private conversation between the two of us.”

“You may not
harm me, but you’re manipulating Sorntar.”

He studied her
with an unblinking stare until Ashayna fought an intense urge to look away. She
focused on his chin instead while she waited for his reply.

“I did not
intend to force Sorntar to do my bidding. The priestess invaded my host while I
slept. I acted in defense. Forgive me. I see now isn’t the time for our talk.”
His countenance softened, he took a deep breath, head bowed until
his chin nearly touched his chest. When he looked up again, it was Sorntar
looking back.

When Sorntar’s
gasp of surprise would have betrayed them, Ashayna threw an arm around his
shoulders in a show of support. His wings, combined with his greater height
made for an awkward stance. She managed to stroke his back and murmured
nonsense to him as if he were a skittish horse.

Looking into
Sorntar’s panicked eyes, she sent him her thoughts,
“We will talk later
about what happened with your Larnkin. I value my freedom. If you value yours,
say nothing to the others.”

Too shocked to
reply, he only nodded his head.

The phoenix
king approached them. “If my son isn’t going to attack anyone, Talnarra and I
have other matters to attend.”

Sorntar
stiffened at Kysoran’s dry comment.

The queen
stopped a pace from her son and looked him in the eyes. Sharp discomfort
crossed Sorntar’s face. “Your strong reaction at having your mind invaded,
while rare, is not unheard of. You and Ashayna have both passed the test. I
hope in the future you will have an easier path.”

Ashayna wished
for nothing more, though doubted her luck would hold. For now they were safe,
saved by equal parts luck and sheer stubborn will. In the future, she could see
only two options, to bargain with the Larnkin or tell the others. Neither
choice seemed very promising for her continued freedom.

While she was
thinking those unwelcome thoughts, the room emptied, leaving them in the
company of the large portraits. Growing uneasy, Ashayna motioned for Sorntar to
find somewhere else to talk.

Sorntar led
them out of the chamber, using the same dark corridor they had entered from.
This time he conjured a mage globe to light their way. Ashayna wished they had
continued in darkness.

More paintings
of the Twelve covered the walls. Unlike the portraits, these showed the
atrocities of war in vivid color. The first depicted a terrible battle between
an army of light and an army of shadow. The army of light was led by several
figures, their features indistinct. She guessed them to be members of the
Twelve. Opposite them, out of shadows, a towering figure came.

Shadows cloaked
the creature in a suggestion of leathery wings. The artist had been vague on
that, for darkness bled out across the land, threatening to cover the entire
battlefield. Upon the creature’s brow swelled three curving horns. His lips
pulled back in an expression of either pain or pleasure. He wielded a vast
double-bladed battle axe easily five times the height of a man. In the next, he
pressed the army of the Twelve hard. Disaster struck in the third painting. The
Judge had been captured by the Dark One and his talisman, a staff crowned with
the likeness of a falcon, lay broken beneath the Dark One’s clawed feet.

The next panel
showed the Judge chained down upon a slab of rock in a cavern of stone. Ashayna
would have called it a torture scene, had there been some instruments she
recognized.

It showed two
images; one was a phoenix, with a paler form hovering slightly above him. It
took her a moment to realize she was looking at an artist’s rendition of a Larnkin.
A tormented phoenix lay chained to a stone altar with strange runes cut into
his flesh. Saliva dried in Ashayna’s mouth. The Larnkin’s expression showed
pure agony as the Dark One poured power into it. Sorntar moaned softly as if in
pain. She reached blindly for him. After a fumbling attempt, she came in
contact with his side. A layer of sweat slicked his skin. At her touch he
jerked back in surprise, but swiftly locked their fingers together.

Unable to stop,
Ashayna took slow steps forward, dragging Sorntar along behind her. The next
panel continued telling the story in gruesome detail. The army of darkness had
returned to face the Twelve’s army. At the head of the Shadow army rode the one
who had been captured, much changed. Where his feathers had been blue, they
were now inky ebony, and his eyes shone black. But the most startling change
was his skin. Once a dark bronze, it was now milky pale with black tattoos
carved into his skin.

The second to
last panel pictured a haggard Destroyer, as if she had suffered alongside her
bondmate while he was tortured and transformed. The ultimate cost of the bond
became clear to Ashayna. The Destroyer in the painting was one of stoic bearing
and had buried her grief to face the shadowed one in battle. Ashayna could not
even fathom such strength, and she had thought she had seen every kind.

The final panel
showed a horror greater than all others. The Destroyer, her face etched with
pure anguish, held her bondmate to her, her sword buried in his chest. Ashayna’s
throat tightened, but the look of relief he bestowed upon his bondmate in his
final moment twisted at Ashayna’s heart.