Page 219 of Blood of the Stars

She scanned the balcony, which seemed oddly quiet now that Durriken and Mayvus were gone, taking her dark spirits and windstorm magic with her. Velden was bent over Iris, who was back on the ground but moving and talking. She should be fine.

Loud sobs tore through the air from the eastern edge of the balcony, where Brogdon’s arms were wrapped around Jasperus. Sylmar’s beady gaze watched both Brogdon and the other remaining soldier, who had dropped his weapons and allowed Cyrus to bind his wrists.

“Are you all right?” Gaeren’s spoken question echoed in Aeliana’s mind, a strangely comforting sensation instead of the invasiveness she’d expected.

“I think so.” Her hands still shook, and her legs threatened to give out, but she was mostly intact. She should be thrilled at the turn of events. Durriken had just solved their problems with one clamp of his jaw. “I’d feel better if I could see evidence that she’s truly gone.”

Gaeren screwed up his face. “You’ve seen what Durriken’s capable of. I think it’s safe to say Mayvus is dead or will be soon.”

“That’s not—” She cut off, glancing at her mother once more. If what she’d said was true, it might not be something for Aeliana to share, not even with Gaeren. “Then we should remove your brand.”

He winced as he ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry about that.”

“No.” She placed a hand on his arm, waiting until he caught her gaze. “You needed to do it. I needed your help. Thank you for being willing.”

He nodded, then pulled her dagger from her sheath. Without hesitation, he sliced at the mark on his hand, his face screwing up in either concentration or pain. Sweat poured down his temple, and Aeliana took pity on him, pulling the dagger from his hand so she could finish the job. While she worked, she let the magic in her blood flow through her fingers, healing his wound as she went.

Tendrils of temptation wove up from his blood, more like a whisper in the back of her mind than the shouts she used to hear.

As the last of the brand was cut out, she felt the ties between them break. It should have been a relief, but a small part of her longed for the connection.

Gaeren rubbed the raw spot she’d left behind, the skin a shiny white and bright pink over a lump of flesh. It was almost as if he missed the connection too.

“I can try to smooth out the scars more in a couple days, but you might be better off having Lukai do it. Or even Marnok, if we can find him.” She didn’t want Gaeren to suggest what it might mean that the others had never caught up.

“This type of scar can’t be healed. It’s its own branding mark, a warning that I use blood magic.”

She couldn’t help reeling back. “So I’ll have the same when I remove Durriken’s brand?”

He nodded. “Although you should keep that for a bit, at least to have a sense of where he is. Especially if you want confirmation that Mayvus is dead.”

She swallowed hard, not liking the practical truth in his words. “Thank you, Gaeren. For doing something you hate so much when you could have just killed me.”

His laugh came out strangled. “You hear how backwards that sounds, right?”

She grinned back, but her mother’s moans made her turn.

“I can’t keep up with whatever’s injuring her,” Lukai said.

Aeliana kneeled to help him. Between the two of them, they managed to stay on top of the wounds, but they still kept appearing, as if some phantom dagger kept plunging through her side. The others helped move her to the bed in one of Mayvus’ rooms, where Iris was placed beside her in order for Velden to set her broken arm and bind her cracked ribs.

Gaeren lit several lanterns, placing them throughout the room before approaching Brogdon and his fellow soldier, who had been bound and left in the corner. Aeliana watched from her mother’s bedside as he gestured toward Jasperus, then placed a hand on Brogdon’s shoulder, whatever words he said managing to bring the ruthless soldier back to tears.

Sylmar pulled up a chair next to Aeliana. “Do we need to cut out his brand as well?” He gestured toward Brogdon. Something about his question felt like another test. It was a decision he would have made in the past, maybe with Jasperus, but now he came to her.

“If Mayvus is dead, it can’t hurt him anymore.”

He gave a noncommittal hum. “Your mother seems to think Mayvus is still alive.”

Aeliana turned to look at her mother’s pale skin, her lips still mumbling incoherently in her sleep. Her wounds had finally stopped reappearing, allowing her to rest beside Iris. “Then yes, we should free him, along with anyone else who’s branded.”

Sylmar shrugged. “A brand could be a good way to learn if our enemy returns.”

She felt sick over the truth of his words, the reason for his line of questioning. The ease at which he would leave someone at Mayvus’ whim for the sake of information. The pain of his lies swept through her once more. “And what about you? Are you my enemy?”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair and resting his staff over his knees. “I was at one time. Like Jasperus, I changed my ways, proved my loyalty.” He stretched out his palms. “Mayvus never branded me because we were already bonded.”

Aeliana stiffened as she took in his familiar scars. “Bonded? You and Mayvus?” Jasperus’ explanation of cutting out brands and bonds came back to her. “You cut out your bond mark.”

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