Page 89 of The Crimson Walls Of Algorath

Behind her, Kall huffed but said nothing.

“And swords.”

Another more audible snort.

“And my technique could use some work for striking.”

Madan raised a brow. “You’re doing a lot. Do you still train every night?”

“With magic too…when we’re not going to parties,” Phulan said, appearing from the kitchen with phantom stealth. She poured a glass of water and held it out to Ariadne. “She’s made quite an impression on Desmo Melia Tagh.”

The sparkle left Madan’s eyes, replaced by a simmering fire. “You met Melia?”

“I can see why Azriel loved her once,” Ariadne admitted, though the very thought of him with any other woman felt like a punch to the gut. “She is charming.”

Her brother pointed a warning finger at her. “She’s a snake, and never forget that. She’ll eat you alive if you’re not careful.”

For a moment, Ariadne was not certain if he meant those words literally. After listening to the haunting tales about the mage, she would not have put it past her to do such a thing. Or at least have someone else to eat her alive.

“I would never consider her a friend.” She hoped the seriousness of her tone reiterated the assurance. She was not so daft as to let the woman imprisoning her husband to sway her so easily.

Madan pulled the cloak from his shoulders and draped it over the chair beside him. He opened his mouth to speak but did not press on until after a moment of hesitation. “Have you seen him?”

Him. Azriel. The only reason any of them, save for Phulan, to be in such a dangerous city.

Ariadne’s heart ached at the thought of the last time she saw her husband. He should have died. How he had not, she could not wrap her mind around. He just would not stop bleeding. Could not. The sands had been soaked crimson from him, and the way that dhemon woman had had to drag him out, hardly able to lift him after her own fight, had sent a spike through Ariadne that she could not quite understand.

“Yes,” she rasped, holding back the emotions that clogged her throat. She swallowed hard in the hope of easing the hot tension there.

That was when she saw it. The flash of fear in her half-brother’s eyes. “Where?”

“Where do you think?” Phulan cut in. “We went to the Pits.”

“He is alive,” Ariadne said, blinking back the tears from the memory. The terror she had felt.

Madan’s shoulders eased. “I shouldn’t have doubted—”

“No.” Ariadne shook her head, losing the battle with her emotions as a hot streak ran down her cheek. “He almost died. He was bleeding so much. Too much. He…he reminded me of…”

She could not bring herself to say it. By the way Madan’s face paled, she knew he understood. Azriel had reminded her of him. Her brother. The one she had dragged out of a cell.

“And where were you?” Madan looked to Kall, his mouth thinning. “She could’ve been hurt.”

“He is not my guard,” Ariadne cut in, wiping her face dry with the heel of her hand. “He could not come anyway. Melia would know.”

Phulan crossed her arms and gaped at Madan indignantly. “You trust me enough to house her and shield her from that bitch, but the Pits is where you draw the line?”

“That’s not what I’m saying—”

“Bullshit.” The mage flashed him a rude hand gesture before turning back to Ariadne. “Show him you don’t need any of us.”

Madan couldn’t quite wrap his head around what he’d heard. Though he and his brother certainly had their fair share of dancing with death, not to mention Azriel’s suicidal ideations last year, he never truly considered that one day his big brother would actually meet his end. Such jests never would’ve included the Pits.

He didn’t have long to linger on the implications of what Ariadne had said, however. It raked at the back of his mind as his half-sister nodded to Phulan’s demand, and she pivoted on her heel to return to the stone garden. The glance to Kall and his responding nod didn’t go unnoticed. The two had grown close.

In the garden, Madan felt more than saw the subtle magic barrier Phulan had put in place to keep out prying eyes. Any movement others saw would be of two women co-residing in peace. Neither he nor Kall would be seen from the streets or surrounding buildings. Every once in a while, however, he saw the shimmer in the moonlight. Any other mages would likely assume it to be a way to keep the grounds’ temperature consistent throughout the desert heat of high day and cold of the night.

What he didn’t expect to see, however, was Ariadne rolling her shoulders back as she picked up and held a shortsword between herself and Kall. They’d progressed, then, from training weapons to sharp metal.

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