Page 8 of Bound In Stone, Claimed In Fire

We stare at each other in seething silence. Finally, he mutters under his breath, turning away. The air around him crackles with suppressed fury. “If you think this changes what you’ve done?—”

“I’m not saying it does,” I cut in, tone clipped. “But maybe you could pause and realize I’m not your enemy. I didn’t set out to ruin your sacrifice or free your evil ex-lover. I have my own problems.” My breath quickens, heart racing from this confrontation.

He spins back, stepping so close that I can’t help but inhale the faint scent of ozone clinging to his skin. Gargoyles, with their life-earth magic, often carry hints of stone, iron, even a tang like charged air. The combination is unsettlingly potent. “You are still complicit,” he growls, each word measured. “And now, we’re bound in ways neither of us wanted. You can’t deny it.”

My stomach clenches. The bond. I felt it last night, thrumming in my chest like a second heartbeat whenever he so much as glanced my way. This morning, it’s no weaker. If anything, it’s grown more insistent, as though each passing hour cements its hold. “I’m not denying anything,” I say, forcing calm into my voice. “But raging at me won’t fix our predicament.”

He bristles, but before he can retort, I take a half-step back. The sensation of his anger, combined with the whirling echoes of guilt and frustration, is nearly suffocating. I need space, if only to breathe.

My plan is to storm off a short distance—to prove I don’t have to stand here and endure his hostility. But the moment I pivot, an acute weakness ripples through my legs, as though the ground beneath them vanishes. My knee buckles, and I let out a sharp gasp, stumbling forward. A wave of dizziness hits me so hard that black spots cloud my vision.

I’d topple face-first if Kaelith didn’t lunge, grasping my upper arm. The contact sends a jolt through the tether between us, an electric pulse of shared energy. I gasp, blinking away the sudden stars. He steadies me with far more gentleness than I expect.

“What—?” My voice breaks. “What’s happening?”

He exhales, a harsh sound that borders on a snarl. “You tried to leave.” He angles his body so I can see his own slight grimace, a tension that draws lines around his mouth. “I felt it too. We can’t stray too far from each other without suffering the consequences.”

A chill that has nothing to do with the Prazh winds seeps into me. I recall hearing of accidental bonds in ancient purna texts—unique spells that entwine lifeforces, ensuring neither party can stray. Some were used as punishments; others, as forced alliances in times of war. “So if we separate,” I whisper, “we both weaken?”

He nods grimly. “Seems that way.” There’s bitterness in his gaze—he despises this just as much as I do. “We discovered that last night, when you tried to distance yourself at the fire. It was mild then, so I thought it might be exhaustion. But now, it’s clear we can’t break the proximity limit. Not without risking our own well-being.”

My mind reels, recalling the moment at the fire when I shifted a few feet to gather more twigs. I’d felt faint, and the ache in my chest had grown heavier. I assumed it was only hunger or the aftermath of the temple’s collapse. But apparently, it’s the result of this cursed tether.

“I—” I attempt to straighten, ignoring the wave of residual dizziness. His grip eases, though he stays close enough to catch me if I collapse again. “That means we’re stuck together.” My voice shakes. “At least until we find a way to undo this link.”

His jaw clenches, and I notice the muscle tighten under the faint glow of morning. “Yes,” he says tersely. “Which isn’t going to be easy.” A glimmer of guilt flickers in his eyes, as though he hates acknowledging we need each other. “But we have no choice.”

For a moment, I stand there breathing hard, trying to process the magnitude of this revelation.Trapped with a gargoyle.The ramifications are enormous. My entire being balks at the notion of traveling with someone who views me with suspicion and anger, especially when I have my own pursuers to fear. A fleeting memory of Drayveth’s furious expression ghosts through my thoughts—his ultimatum was clear: come back to the coven or die. Maybe now, ironically, having this gargoyle at my side might be my only shot at staying alive.

Steadying my breath, I release a ragged sigh. “Look, we can fight all day, or we can accept reality and figure out how to fix this.” My voice sounds tired, and I feel as if I’ve aged a decade overnight.

Kaelith’s wings shift slightly, the faintest sign of acceptance. “The second option is the only rational path.”

I nod once, chewing my bottom lip. The tension between us simmers, but at least we’ve reached a kind of stalemate. He helps me step back to the meager remains of our fire. The coals have cooled, so I crouch to rekindle them with what leftover scraps of fuel I can find. He watches me, arms folded, stance imposing. I sense he’s reluctant to show any vulnerability. Typical, I suppose, for a gargoyle who once trusted a purna and paid dearly for it.

As the flames rise to a soft flicker, I draw my cloak tighter. “We can’t linger on this ledge forever,” I say, voice hushed. “Drayveth won’t be far. He might have had to retreat last night because of the collapsing temple, but he won’t give up.”

Kaelith’s mouth twists into a grim line. “Your mentor is the one who hunts you?”

I inhale, dread coiling in my belly. “Used to be my mentor. He’s… not that anymore. Not after what he did.” My tone breaks at the end, unbidden. My past with Drayveth is complicated. He once championed me to the coven, proclaiming my raw power could be harnessed for great things. Then, the moment I questioned his methods, he turned. He accused me of harboring traits that could lead to corruption, manipulating the other purna to cast me out. I close my eyes briefly, shutting out the sting of betrayal.

Kaelith’s gaze intensifies, the gold rim of his irises brightening. “What did he do?” he asks, not gently, but there’s a current of curiosity underneath.

I have this urge to snap at him for intruding, but if we’re going to be forced into alliance, he deserves some context. “He accused me of subverting the coven’s ways,” I say, letting the words come out in a monotone, hoping that strips them of their pain. “Said my magic was ‘unnatural.’ That I was heading down a path like the old horror stories—like the first Nyxari. The coven believed him. They branded me.” My hand finds the scar on my wrist. “Then they banished me under threat of death if I ever returned or used my magic outside their control.”

He exhales, studying the mark on my wrist. His expression is inscrutable, though I notice the flicker of recognition. “So they fear another dark prophecy. One that might mirror what happened to Nerezza.”

“Yes. Drayveth hammered that comparison into them,” I murmur bitterly. “Ironically, by calling me too powerful, he may have forced me into dangerous situations I never would’ve chosen otherwise. The more I ran, the more suspicious they became.” I shake my head, a hollow laugh escaping. “And here I am, accidentally unleashing an actual threat on the world. I guess Drayveth will feel vindicated if he ever finds out.”

A heavy silence wraps around us. Finally, Kaelith says, “So you truly had no intention of playing with ancient wards. You were just… desperate.”

I roll my shoulders, bitterness coiling in my throat. “Desperate. Yes.” Another memory slams into me: Drayveth’s eyes flaring with green-black energy, vines of corrupted magic lashing out at me in some half-lit corridor. I’d barely escaped with my life. If I hadn’t found the temple’s glyphs, I wouldn’t be standing here. “He won’t stop until he’s certain I’m dead. Or until I grovel back into the coven. I’m not interested in either option.”

Kaelith makes a low sound, not quite a growl. “You risk the entire planet to save yourself from that bastard?”

My anger flares again, though at least this time it’s tempered by weariness. “Don’t twist my words. I’m not happy about any of this. But do you know how it feels to have no safe place left to run? To watch your only allies turn on you because you won’t kneel to their demands?” My voice shakes. The memories tumble forth: the fear, the heartbreak, the shame. “He told me he would break me if I didn’t comply. So yes, I used the only means I found in that temple. I had no clue it would unravel your sacrifice.”

Kaelith’s tail thumps against the rocky ground, stirring up a faint cloud of dust. His intense gaze remains fixed on me, evaluating. At last, he nods curtly. “It seems we’re both victims of events beyond our control.”

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