Page 7 of Possession

“One I assume you would impose by force,” says Aris. “Why else gather this paltry militia behind you?”

“I won’t force you to agree. They’re only here for my protection.”

I glance at the men behind him, taking a quick sweep of the room. Maybe he’s telling the truth, but none of them look like they would be opposed to a fight.

“You offer freedom,” Aris says, and I return my gaze to the Grand Mage. “What do you want in exchange?”

“You would work with us. Instead of harming humans, you would fight to protect them.”

“No,” Aris instantly replies. “You say I should serve a race as lowly as your own?”

Hang on, let’s at least consider what he’s saying!

No, he says, annoyed. I’d rather stay in here until you die of old age.

I’m not sure how to react to that. It’s a fate I’ve considered, but hearing it laid out so callously is hard. There aren’t many options for me. There isn’t much of a future, and what can I even do here? If Aris says no, then the offer is off the table. I’ve been included in this conversation only because I have to be. In full truth, I have nothing to negotiate. I’m just a body, and they can easily find another.

Unperturbed, the Grand Mage goes on to say, “You could have whatever you want. Fortune, sex, worship, fame.” He gestures his hands broadly to get the message across. “Anything. Imagine statues in your honor, churches built with offerings left in your name.”

“I could have that without you,” Aris says.

“From this sunless room?” the wizard replies, raising a thick brow, and the nonchalant move raises Aris’ temper. “You would choose to stay trapped here, in a weak host?”

“Mary is not weak!” Aris snaps.

I’m a little surprised, and he hisses, Only I’m allowed to talk to you like that!

“Of course, I apologize,” says the Grand Mage. “But even still, you could be put into someone stronger. You could have a selection.”

“This is my body. She is mine, and I will never leave.”

Behind the Grand Mage, his mages shift, eyes seeking contact with those around them; they’re fiddling their fingers, cracking their necks, exposing nervous tics. Something about it unsettles me. Do they expect Aris to do something? What is making them anxious?

My own fingers begin to tap against my leg, on edge from the uncertainty of the situation. The mages want Aris on their side, but why do they want him now? It’s been three years, and they never once tried to convert him. We were a lost cause. What’s changed? Why do they suddenly seem so desperate?

The Grand Mage draws my attention when he tilts his head; he is back to studying us. I’m not sure what those rings on his fingers can do—maybe he’s reading my mind. His eyes seem a little too keen, to the point of being smug.

“Aris,” he says, and I find it interesting that I’m not even being addressed now. “Let us be amicable. We can help one another.”

“It seems that you need me much more than I need you,” Aris replies.

“Need?” says the Grand Mage. There’s an edge to his tone now. “Because I believe in your rehabilitation, I’m offering you the chance to be free in this world. What would I need you for?”

“Anything. You lack strength.”

“We were strong enough to capture you.”

My lips twist into something like a snarl, and my nose curls, teeth baring. This anger is not my own, but it’s powerful enough to override every other instinct. Aris isn’t even controlling my hands, but they’ve balled into fists at my sides.

“You will die for your arrogance!” Aris growls.

I try to get a handle on his anger, but it’s like water slipping through my fingers. Maybe death threats aren’t the most constructive—

How dare he come here and ask for my aid, only to ridicule me?

Yes, but—

“I took that too far. I apologize,” says the Grand Mage sincerely, interrupting our discussion.

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