Page 44 of Ties of Death

Mundil's second bracer. It’s nestled in a bed of shimmering dark velvet, which only serves to accentuate how old and worn the bracer looks.

My initial reaction is to slam the chest closed again and bury it amongst the treasures of this room. But Daenn’s already reaching in, grabbing the bracer and pulling it out. With his free hand, he begins loosening the laces on his regular bracer.

“Wait—” I grab his forearm to stop him.

He stills at my touch, glancing over with a small frown.

“Don’t put it on yet.”

The frown deepens. “Why?”

Because I hate it. I don’t want him to wear it, to risk duplicating the effects the first bracer has on him. But that’s why we’ve come so far. It’s an unreasonable request.

“What if it overwhelms you? We’re not exactly safe yet. You need to be able to fight.”

There. That sounded sensible.

But Daenn studies me, searching my face, no doubt looking for the source of the fear coursing through my body.

To my relief—a relief I may be imagining is also echoing back from him as well—he finally nods. “I’ll wait until we’ve made it safely home.”

My hand slips from his arm as he turns and strides to Storm’s side and stores the bracer away in one of the saddlebags. I’m relieved, but not as much as I want to be. He’s still planning on using it, which is—good. That’s good. That’s what we both want. His magic to be gone so he can be free of it and I can be free of him.

So why am I not happier that we’ve achieved our objective and can return home?

We make our way back over to Yiorgos and the other monks. The room shudders under another large concussive blast; I shake the dust out of my hair. The monks keep working, undeterred by the sounds of the Elyri trying to break in.

It’s not much longer before the through-way ripples to life. I don’t need anyone to tell me that it worked; the inside of the gilded frame morphs from that dull grey to a deep, sucking green that tugs at my very being much like the bracer does. It’s not an entirely pleasant feeling, but it doesn’t have the same edge to it as the bracer. It doesn’t feel like it wants todevourin the same way.

Yiorgos stands and brushes his hands together. “There,” he says in satisfaction. He turns to Daenn. “I can’t deliver you directly to your clan—the through-way is limited by the mind of one who knows how to wield it, and neither I nor any of my brothers have had the honor of visiting your clan home. But there’s a village near the foot of the mountains; I’ve been there. Would that do?”

“Yes, that’s perfect. We can make the journey the rest of the way from there.” Daenn inclines his head to Yiorgos. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for assisting us, Your Majesty,” Yiorgos returns. “I trust you’ve found the other bracer?”

“I have.”

“Good. May it serve you well.” He looks at me. “Thank you, Your Majesty, as well. Your efforts were invaluable in reaching this room.” He gives a small bow.

I swallow away my alarm at the title and nod. “Thank you.”

He turns and places a hand along the gilded frame. The green ripples and shifts subtly, its hue deepening to that of forests and underbrush.

After a moment, Yiorgos nods. “Safe travels to you both.”

Daenn places a hand at the small of my back, the other on Storm, and together we step into the through-way.

27

Dance with Nostalgia

We stumble into daylight and cool, dry air. The shock of the change freezes my whole being—body and mind; I can’t move, I can only gasp and cling to Daenn’s hand as I try to take in our surroundings.

The dark humid jungle is gone. The stone walls of the temple. We stand on the edge of a forest, but instead of vines and vibrant flowers and ten dozen shades of green, these trees are full of bright orange and pink peaches. The trees end just before us—and a village begins. Stone houses clutter before us with little wooden fences framing their gardens. A dirt road snakes between them, and above them all rise mountains—and the largest peak I would recognize from any distance or angle: our clan’s mountain.

This must be Lissbury, the village at the base of our mountain.

Daenn pats Storm and steps back. “Go hunt. We’ll leave for the mountain as soon as you return.”

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