Page 66 of A Frozen Pyre
“Your Majesty, I cannot act without bias in pursuing your daughter’s creations while I serve beneath you. I cannot remain a servant of Farehold.”
Eero’s brows knit. He asked, “Do you seek to return to Raascot?”
Samael’s frown deepened. “Raascot is not home. Neither for myself nor Onain. We’re here to serve the realm. I’ve spoken with my sister, who has served an advisory role in Gwydir longer than I have in Aubade. The world changed with the flick of Ophir’s wrist, Your Majesty. We agree, this is not a job that can be done with bias to kings or masters.”
“Say what it is you intend to say.”
Samael straightened his shoulders. “I’d request a reprieve from kingdoms and alliances. I will serve neither Farehold nor Raascot—no agenda, save for the well-being of the continent.” He turned to Harland. “We know of at least two of her dragons and at least two humanoid demons. Has she made anything else, to your knowledge?”
Harland closed his eyes. He didn’t look at his king before nodding in honesty. Yes, she had. No, Eero would be neitherthrilled nor impressed that Harland had hidden such an integral piece of information from him.
“Do you have any idea as to her rate of creation?”
Harland shook his head sadly. “She began manifesting before she ran.”
“Manifesting,” Eero repeated quietly from his chair.
“And the dagger?” Samael arched a brow.
Harland pulled the dagger out of his palm. Scarlet droplets ran down his arm, soaking into the cuff of his sleeve as he extended his hand to Samael. “Serve no king. Do what you must, you altruistic bastard. But don’t hurt her. Do this and I’ll spend every day until the end of my days ensuring that you’re able to perform your calling.”
He extended the dagger to Samael.
“Truly? You would call for us to exchange blood?” Samael looked to Eero.
Eero said, “Take this vow, and I release you.”
Harland ignored their king entirely. He pushed out a rush of air through his nose before saying, “There are few moments in life that require a certain solemnity. This is one of them.”
Samael looked between the blade, his kneeling friend, and the man who’d been his king. If the All Mother had put him on the earth for one reason, it was this. He knew in his marrow that no one else would extinguish the blight on the land unless he rose to the occasion. Wisdom told him this was the best deal he would be offered to fulfill his calling.
Samael accepted the dagger. His gaze remained on Harland’s as pain shot through him. Hot rivers flowed from his hand, wrapping around his wrist and dripping onto the ground at his feet. He allowed the blade to eat into his flesh, slicing into the meat of his palm before he clasped hands with Harland. Their blood mixed as they sealed their promise.
“As long as you don’t hurt her.” Harland flexed his fingers, pulling Samael in closer.
“I’ll do what must be done.”
***
“Your Highness!” Harland cried after the northern king at the gates of Castle Gwydir. He’d scarcely caught the disappearing silhouette of Ceneth’s form as the winged king of Raascot slipped behind the front gates. “King Ceneth!”
Ceneth paused in the last dark-gray lights of dusk. He made a show of attempting to conceal his displeasure at Harland’s arrival, but his best was not enough. He snarled at the guard.
“I’m busy, Harland.” Ceneth looked back at the woman who’d been at the meeting. Their voices stayed low as she helped him cinch his weapon’s belt. This was something that an attendant should be doing, not someone the king considered an advisor.
“She shouldn’t have been able to do that,” the one called Galena was saying quietly. Harland had heard her say a variation of this lament for three days as she remained in her shell-shocked state. Every thought that passed her lips had been filtered through mourning and self-flagellation. Thanks to Galena’s presence, Zita had been unable to call her shield. Evander’s skin had been little more than flesh. They’d heard it from her mouth and seen it on her face: she’d never be able to forgive herself for the mortality she’d brought into the room.
Ceneth looked to the neutralizer. “No one should be able to do what was done in that room. It’s manifestation.”
Galena shook her head. “She shouldn’t have been able to do anything. Why would everyone else’s abilities be rendered useless, save for hers?”
“Because,” Ceneth said, grunting absently as he continued to work on his hardened armor and the weapons at his side. He didn’t look at them as he said, “Manifestation is not magic.”
“Sir?”
“It’s godhood.”
“Is…” Galena struggled to keep up. “Is this the explanation for the six dead bodies within our walls? Anothercreature of hers?”
