Page 33 of Oath of Betrayal
‘I know, but we can use that. Calm her down. Be this Talmund if you must.’
Orm seemed torn. I knew deceiving her went against what he considered honourable, even if he was doing it for a good reason, but I felt no remorse. The entire castle could burn if we didn’t get this under control before the dragon fire destroyed everything in its path.
As the servants dropped off water and ice, Orm finally peeled the last layer of clothing from of her body, exposing her delicate skin that was lit from within by the strangely dancing flames. She was filled with fire, and for the first time since I’d walked into this hell, I realised it might not be possible to save her.
‘Vahin said she rejected his Anchor,’ Orm commented, and my gaze slid to above her left breast, where conduit mages wore the symbol of their bonds. It was the physical manifestation of the tether, the mage’s interpretation of the magic. She had one, but it looked nothing like a dragon. ‘She still wears the marks of her dead lovers,’ I said, grinding my teeth.
What kind of will or love could have kept their magic tethered to her body after they had died? What depth of grief did she harbour to cause it? I didn’t have an answer, but it was clear why she had rejected Vahin’s spirit.
Those symbols should have disappeared when the magic that had created them ceased to exist. Yet the shield, wrapped in healing blue ivy, was still there, sitting firmly over her heart. The flames were concentrated there, the faint shape of a dragon blazing from inside—seeking a way out, fighting to overcome the current symbols, and failing.
‘She will die if the ritual isn’t completed,’ I said, placing a wet, cold towel over her chest and abdomen. The cold water hissed, sizzling on her skin. When I added ice over it, Annika cried out in pain, reaching for Orm. He caught her hand, soothing her and murmuring sweet nonsense. When she calmed, he looked at me quietly for a moment before reaching for a dagger with cold, grim determination.
‘Would cutting out the marks help?’ He held the knife ready, and I looked at him in horror. ‘No, this is just her mind’s manifestation of her bond. We have to cut the attachment to her lovers, her memories, not her skin.’
I was out of my depth. I’d healed my fair share of patients, but the woman burning on Orm’s bed had Anchored a dragon and was wielding its flame while still being tethered to the spirits of her dead lovers.
Her attachment was almost unbreakable, and deep within my heart, I ached with envy. I’d begged, prayed and cursed mymother in order to remove the marks tying me to my family and here was someone who had defied death to hold those she loved near to her heart. Still, I knew that for Ani to survive, I had to break that bond.
‘You are really not going to like this … We have to use the woman’s delusion against her. You need to keep pretending to be Talmund and convince her to accept Vahin’s mark.’
‘I’m sure I look nothing like him,’ he answered. ‘I know, but Annika is lost to delirium and only seeshim, not you. The university report said that he was a paladin mage, forceful but fair, with his own code of honour. Do you see how she could have made the connection?’
‘Yes, but if I do this, how will she ever trust me again?’ Orm gave me a grim look and positioned himself behind Ani, cradling her head when it lolled to the side before brushing wet strands of hair from her eyes. She moaned painfully, cuddling her cheek to his large palm, and his face softened.
‘Annika, you have to live. How can I fulfil my promise if you go and die on me? I thought you were too stubborn to give in to death.’ I watched as Orm weaved strength, tenderness, and a teasing tone into those words, and I realised that in the short time he’d been with the mage, he’d grown to care for her.
Without prompting, my friend leaned down and softly pressed his forehead against Ani’s, his grip tightening when her body shuddered. Vahin’s pained roar shook the windows until she quietened, and as the mage’s eyes opened, a delicate smile blossomed on her lips. I don’t know what she saw, but hope glowed in the depths of her eyes as she gazed up at Orm.
That was my cue to act, and I began creating a sigil with the swirling aether. I placed my hand on her midriff, pouring in as much of my strength and power as possible to sustain her failing body, feeling her spirit brush against mine.
It was painfully exquisite.
Flames roared uncontrolled inside her, and when I activated my second sight, the world turned grey save for the maelstrom of aether buffeting Ani’s soul. She was a marvel, and I was captivated by the iridescent beauty of her magic. It was like staring at the source of all power through a silken veil, like knowing one faced destruction if that thin barrier was only swept aside.
For mages, our bodies were the vessels of our magic, and we spent decades learning how to contain more, but once we reached our limits, that was all we could achieve. Annika, though, was the glimmering shroud fluttering before the vastness of the aether, and I couldn’t resist the urge to peel it back just a little. I wanted to become a part of it, to bask in the glorious power, the woman ignorant of her immense potential.
I rarely utilised my mother’s abilities, but this time I embraced my imperfect psychic gift. The marks on my chest lit up when I reached for Annika’s mind. I wasn’t skilled enough to perceive much, but I felt her essence burning in dragon fire with no rest or reprieve in sight; yet she was unwilling to let her lovers go. She apparently preferred to suffer than to let the last vestiges of their connection disappear.
There was no other way around it. As long as she grieved, there was no place for another Anchor.
‘Damn it all to—this isn’t going to work, Orm. You need to use the geas to make Ani let go. I can’t keep her alive whilst she’s still resisting.’ I was beginning to lose the last of my composure, so when Orm looked at me in shocked disapproval, I flinched, offering a hasty solution.
‘I can make her forget you did it. I know it’s wrong, but this isn’t about hurt feelings; it’s life-or-death. Please, trust me. If you could see the ocean of magic that is trying to push through, you would understand. Do it for her, and don’t hesitate—I can’t hold on much longer.’
I was unable to say much more. Sustaining her life was taking an enormous toll on my strength, and I couldn’t keep splitting my attention. Smoke rose from the bed, the ultimate proof that we were heading towards catastrophe, when I finally heard a grunt from Orm.
‘Rahit va’car.’1
While I waited, I managed to direct part of my attention to a shielding spell. The heat decreased, but it wouldn’t last for long, and even being next to her was becoming difficult. We had to hurry. I grimaced in pain.
Orm’s face hardened into unyielding resolve. He placed a soft, featherlight kiss on her lips, and when she moaned softly, her lips parting to deepen the kiss, he whispered, ‘I’ve wanted to do that since I met you. This is probably the first and last time I’ll be allowed.’ When he straightened, all I could see on his face was steely, unfeeling determination.
‘It is time to say goodbye, my sweet girl. You can’t hold the spirits of the dead to this world. It hurts them, and it hurts you. They need peace, and so do you, but I will fill the void they leave behind if you’ll let me,’ Orm murmured, cradling her to his chest, rocking them both gently. I watched as my friend whispered something and then cleared his throat. ‘Release your dead lovers and let Vahin in,’ he commanded.
Annika’s body arched, every muscle pulled tight as her eyes snapped open, wailing as an unseen force tried to rip her apart. The raw terror in her features chilled me to the bone. ‘No, Orm. Please … No!’
‘Do it, Annika. Obey my command.’
