Page 28 of Bound and Tide

And if he were to rely on the presence of another, it would be terribly inconvenient when they left, especially if he had to go looking for them. It was already inconvenient enough when the person he wanted to hang around went to the trouble of exposing him to one of the most impressive bits of magic he’d ever seen and then sent him out into the night without so much as another tug at his cock.

Bustling docks flanked the river’s seaward end, but Xander found himself on the far side of the city where the waterway continued into the wood, past the so-called “high harbor” and the smattering of massive mansions built on stilts out over the most scenic spots. When they’d flown over it, Costa pointed out a specific manor. “Dad’s old employer, the one we owe,” he said, and Maia scoffed.

The river’s tightly winding nature lent itself to hidden banks and a few offshoots that snaked away and joined back up to the main waterway. The griffin had found a clear enough spot to touch down along one of the side channels, happy to have its three riders dismount and then curl up beneath a pine.

Xander had just taken his hands out of his pockets and placed them firmly on his hips to survey the spot, but he regretted it. It was cold, and his fingertips tingled with the temperature and the noxscura’s complaints. At least there was no one else about that afternoon, probably because it was fucking freezing.

“What are we doing all the way out here?” Costa had himself wrapped in a threadbare cloak looking like a member of The Brotherhood pre-shave, his gaunt features barely visible from under the hood.

“He’s probably going to try to kill us.” Maia wasted no time on questions, she always just assumed the worst out of everyone. Xander respected that choice as the safest one, but her mouthiness negated the defense, and the brat didn’t have the arcana to back up her tongue.

“There would be no trying, only doing, but no—we are here so you can begin reimbursing me.”

“You’re not done helping us yet,” snapped the girl. She pretended to be less bothered by the cold, standing with arms tightly crossed and face drawn into a perpetual snarl.

“I’m sure the things you need my assistance with could fill an entire tomb, but this too may…take some time.” Xander glanced out at the river, still running despite the snow on the banks. The water was an opaque grey in the dearth of color that was winter, almost like noxscura if it was devoid of its spark. Sticky trees jutted up across the bank, separating it from the road, snow coating their limbs. White, grey, brown, even the sky was stark and boring. What he would give for just a little red.

“At least we’ll finally find out what he wants,” grumbled Maia, though she had taken a step back from him, shoulder pressing into Costa’s arm. Whether it was to give or receive protection, Xander wasn’t sure, but she needn’t worry about that.

He raised a palm to hold before his face and waited, but the noxscura that battered at his skin was more chaotic than ever, threatening to move beyond his reach. He’d needed every tamed bit of it to heal the day before, and it hadn’t calmed since. He cast another glance out at the forest—his noxscura could wreak its havoc out there, but it would be better if things didn’t progress in such a disorderly direction.

“I need the two of you to teach me how to use arcana.”

Costa and Maia traded that look they always passed back and forth, a mix of confusion and duplicity, of naive youth and the inborn shrewdness of Xander’s own blood.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

And there was the other part, the crude tongue. Xander bit back an appreciative grin.

Costa, however, was always quieter. “We’ve seen you do plenty of magic.”

“You haven’t seen me do water arcana.” He gestured vaguely to the river then tucked his hands back into his coat pockets.

Costa actually snorted out a laugh at that. “We’re not adept, and we’ve got no formal training.”

“It’s in your blood.”

Maia elbowed her brother, silencing his muttered concern about not knowing where to start. “We can teach him the way that Stavros taught us.”

The boy’s face immediately turned sour. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Stavros taught you how to use arcana?” A pang of jealousy shot through Xander, an emotion he was a little better at recognizing than other ones. It was similar to the night before when he imagined Maisie leaving her elven tribe with a very young Red, giving up everything for her child.

“Of course he taught us, how else would we know?” Maia began pushing up her sleeves, revealing a metal cuff around one of her wrists, strange she owned jewelry when the two had so little otherwise.

“Never mind, just get on with it. Impart upon me the great wisdom your brilliant father imparted upon you.” He faced the two of them and held out his arms.

Maia and Costa once again looked at one another. She shrugged and Costa groaned.

“You should take off your coat and close your eyes.” The boy bit his lip as he shrugged out of his own cloak. “And you have to promise not to fight it.”

Xander dropped his arms. “Considering the ominousness of that statement, I will make no such vow.”

“Well, then we can’t teach you,” Maia snapped.

But I want to know! Xander’s chest hollowed out and drew in the nothing around it, jealousy deepening. The sucking void inspired a flash of Bloodthorne and his human mother in his mind. Bloodthorne had not known any arcana when he and Xander met, though he’d not even been speaking age back then. Xander had asked Diana why her son couldn’t fight back over Bloodthorne’s sobs after a failed sparring attempt. Diana had cooed patiently that her own son was just too young, and then she’d given him a cuddle that made Xander’s chest feel exactly as hollow as it did now. He hadn’t understood—Birzuma had taken great joy in teaching Xander blood arcana well before even the Chthonic alphabet.

In the stillness of the air around them, Xander looked up into the trees once more. Grey, brown, white. Even the jackdaw that peered out from the branches was a dull black. The color had leached right out of the world as it marched slowly toward death. Was that what was in store for him if he also did nothing?

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