Page 34 of Disillusioned
“What do you mean?”
She thought of Father Guillaume, wherever he was, and seeing Garin in the halls. About Armand impaling himself on his own rusty blade. “Must you maintain regular contact with those you entrance in order for them to continue doing your bidding?”
Garin hummed in understanding. “Sometimes, if our commands are for extended periods of time and depending on how well-fed the entrancer is at the time his victim is spelled. Entrancements are often shorter term, lasting anywhere from hours to days.” He cleared his throat, sounding like he was suppressing a chuckle. “The guards I entranced at the Le Tallec estate were still standing obediently in front of the manor last I saw them, the night before Armand came to you. They’ll probably drop from thirst and hunger as soon as it wears off. It is rare, but possible for those entranced to break out of it, unlike a thrall. The entrancement can end if we specify the achievement of a certain task or time period. If we don’t, theeffect weakens over time, and they’ll continue performing the task or playing the part until it’s worn off. Your priest, for example, is very old and without much vigor behind his willpower, so I only need to pop in every now and then. I haven’t had to entrance him a second time.”
Lilac thought about how Henri had told her Guillaume had been summoned to Rome and would return in time for her coronation, before Garin reassured her he was kept nearby. She decided not to ask, holding not one ounce of pity for that man. He deserved whatever fate befell him.
A muted, sharp reply from Adelaide made Giles laugh, which Lilac did not believe was the witch’s intent. “So how is a thrall…released, then?”
“The most common method of thrall release involves the regnant leaving them in total seclusion. The bond will grow tepid, eventually fading, but it can take at least a week to start to weaken. At times, depending on the length of the bond, more.”
“One week? That seems almost too easy. The victim could escape and, in a month, be free of the bond.”
“Thralls are certainly not free, though it might seem like it to them. A fully bound thrall would never attempt to escape their regnant. They’d have to be physically removed against their will, and even then, no one in their right mind would knowingly kidnap a thrall from a vampire.” Garin’s look was faraway, and also astonished, as if such powerful magic shocked him as much as it did her. “They will try to seek each other out in distress if the release was not initiated by the regnant. It is easy containing a thralled human, but a vampire,” he said with a despondent chuckle, “not so much. In this way, there is some consequence to the vampire for siring a thrall.”
An involuntary shiver ripped through her.
“Laurent did his research and had his books, made sure we all knew the repercussions of creating thralls.” Garin’s fingers drummed upon his right thigh, where he’d pocketed the book he’d been reading in his armchair. “He did stress that, as the underlying force behind the ability to create them lies within the same arcane magic that gives witches, warlocks, and mages their abilities, there are exceptions to every rule. Each regnant and thrall pair is different; the terms of their bond privy to only them, in ways that cannot be controlled,” he continued, lost in thought. “Such a volatile relationship is not one even the most power-starved vampire takes lightly. Thralls are usually created for combat. Espionage. Pleasure.” Garin pausedwhen Lilac shivered again. He shifted off the wall, leaning forward, the flash of his teeth in a subtle grin gracing the strip of moonlight. “Have I said too much?”
“It’s cold,” she lied, rubbing her hands together. Some of her nail beds had been picked raw. She cleared her throat and took her time before speaking again. “Are thralls ever consenting?”
Annoyance colored Garin’s tone. “Consenting?”
“Are there any benefits to it? Are there people who everwantto become thralls? Without becoming victimized?”
He laughed dryly. “There are those who ask to be bonded to us in that way. There will always be those who beg for it, for a dance with immortality. But the things they’re after are never truly granted. It is a very strong belief of mine that all thrallsarevictims, regardless of their initial willingness.”
“But if the thralls made against their own will are dominated through arcane magic, would thosewillingbe driven by something like…” She trailed off, reddening, knowing her wording was all wrong.
“Like what?”
“Like love?”
“No.” He answered immediately, crossing his arms as if he’d been anticipating her questioning to go there. “That is not love.”
He said no more on the matter. The air was too still in the carriage. She watched, unseeing, as particles of dust swirled in the strip of moonlight from the window.
Eventually, Garin leaned forward, looking tired from their conversation. “You should get some rest,” he said softly.
She would have protested, except her eyelids had become heavy, too. They had at least several hours on the road ahead. “Maybe for a few minutes.” She shrugged further into her cloak and leaned her temple against the cool glass, letting the soft rocking of the carriage lull her away.
Lilac had just closed her eyes when suddenly, she was being lifted. One hand under her knees and the other around her shoulders, Garin scooped and placed her onto his bench, against his shoulder, scooting to the far wall so she had the rest of the room to curl her legs. She shifted her bottom away from him, only to rest her head on his thigh.
He cleared his throat, and she thought there might’ve been a smilebehind the noise. He rested his hand upon her head, his fingers beginning to gently knead the tension from her scalp.
Slowly, her eyes closed again. “I’ve missed you, Garin.”
“I am never far,” was all he said.
Anywhere that isn’t right beside me, touching me, is too far,she thought. She would’ve challenged him further, but his hand had started moving again, roaming the taut spaces between her ears and down the stiff back of her neck that had silently bore the brunt of all the calamity these last five years in the shaken, divided kingdom left to her. Garin’s slow breathing, and the steady bumping of the carriage, pulled her into the soundest sleep she’d had in weeks.
Knocking jolted her awake.Garin startled behind her with a snort, ripping the curtain behind them to the side and tearing it off its rack in the process. The muffled voices they’d fallen asleep to from the other side could no longer be heard. The tiny green firefly that Adelaide had conjured with Lorietta’s help still looped in the air several feet in front of them.
The sky before them was a gradient of rich violets. Ahead of them on the road, pinpricks of flame danced in the distance.
“Where are we?” As she straightened, several short, puffing chimney stacks became visible against the sky.
“Nearing town,” Garin rumbled.
