Page 95 of The Crimson Walls Of Algorath

“It’s an ancient practice,” Phulan continued a bit cautiously, “to bind clans to their leader or even non-dhemons to a dhemon spouse.”

Madan gave Ariadne’s hand another squeeze. “It doesn’t take away free will, but it does make one more…loyal to the dhemon who initiates it.”

Looking between them, Ariadne frowned and moved to take her hand away. To retreat within herself as he’d seen her do so many times in Laeton. “Does that mean…when I chose to stay with him—”

“No!” Madan held fast, refusing to let her lock herself away. “You stayed with him out of love. Not loyalty.”

“You strong.” Kall moved to catch her gaze, his ruby eyes serious. “You fight oath like dragon.”

Her frown deepened.

“Most dragons don’t appreciate the vinculum process,” Madan offered. “Even as newborns, they fight back. The individual that triggers the reaction must be strong enough to control it.”

He remembered his own vinculum with Brutis all too well. They hadn’t meant to stumble across the clutch in the Irem Tundra. The Crowe had sent them north a century ago in search of ancient temples for Bastien, the God of Rain. So few called upon the god, the dhemons had hoped to seek his help in the war. Whether it was in response to their devotion to finding him or their stupidity for traveling so far north, Madan didn’t know.

They hadn’t even understood what they’d found at first. After traveling so long in brutal cold, Azriel, Madan, Kall, and Whelan thought they’d finally discovered ruins on an expanse of the tundra without any snow. In fact, the air in the space felt warm. What looked like monoliths from afar were oddly round as they started between them. It didn’t take long before the first stone cracked.

To his surprise, it had been Brutis who emerged first. Most ancient texts depicted newborn dragons to be the size of a cat. They couldn’t have been more wrong. Brutis had been equivalent to a large horse, though wobbly on his legs and unclear in his thoughts.

That was when the vinculum snapped together for them both. Two shaky steps out of what they had realized were pieces of shell, Brutis lunged teeth-first at Madan. Mind scrambled, he barely got out of the way. He saw the huge lizard-like beast before him one moment, then looked down at himself through blurry eyes the next.

He’d gotten sick from the back and forth, but when Azriel had drawn his sword and readied to kill the dragon, Madan stopped him. He couldn’t let the creature die. Once he steadied his own mind and understood the connection between him and Brutis, the vinculum was complete.

No sooner had he reined in the tie than the next egg began to crack.

“What does this mean about my oath to Azriel?”

Ariadne’s question snapped Madan back into the present. Gods, he missed Brutis, even though it’d only been a couple of nights since he’d seen the dragon. He missed Whelan, with whom he’d completed the oath in reciprocation of the bond he had for him.

“It means you’ve controlled it,” Madan said, remembering the way the vinculum felt when it settled and how it compared to an oath. They were similar, as Kall suggested, though his oath had been to the Crowe and not to a partner. “Think back to when you found out the truth about him. It felt different, didn’t it? Like two sides of you were at war.”

“How is that any different than loving and hating him for what he did?”

“You wanted to leave.” Madan felt a soft pang in his heart for all the times he’d sat with his brother in the nights following their fallout. She’d avoided him like the sun. “But you stayed anyway.”

“Out of love…right?” Ariadne looked uncertain now. “Or was it loyalty?”

Madan shook his head. “Love. If it’d been out of loyalty, it would’ve been done begrudgingly.”

Still appearing unclear, she sighed and waved a hand in defeat before pressing her fingertips to her temples. “But if I can fight an oath, how would this help us with the prisoners?”

“Desperation makes for the best soldiers,” Phulan said. “They won’t fight the oath because they need it to get free. And once they are, they’ll be forever loyal to Azriel. To you. You need an army? Liberate one.”

Ariadne gave a hollow chuckle. “A dozen prisoners is hardly an army.”

“Perhaps,” the mage agreed. “Until word spreads throughout the Districts. Once the other prisoners hear of an uprising, they’ll flock to you.”

Madan nodded his agreement. “Once you speak with him tonight, you’ll have very little time before you can move. Don’t risk Melia finding out what you’re doing.”

“And if we’re going to attend,” Phulan said, getting to her feet. “We need to leave.”

Chapter 22

For the first time since his arrival, Azriel joined the prisoners herded through a large bathing house in preparation to enter Melia’s chateau. Servants were not there to clean them. Rather, guards stood around the edges to bark orders over the chaos. Fights broke out to claim places amongst those lucky enough to be the first into the sunken pool.

Azriel stood back. He looked on as the humans and fae clambered to the front. Beside him, Sasja crossed her arms and shook her head while Raoul chuckled in wry amusement. They’d endured this far more often than he did.

Yet this time around, no one offered him blood he couldn’t refuse. Melia had been wise to keep the vampire half of him starving, so each time she wished to drug him, he had no self-control. She didn’t seem to want to keep him hidden, though. Not one drop of blood was provided.

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