Page 24 of Bonds of Blood
What I wasn’t I expecting was Baylor Wilde in the clearing before me. He stood there alone, none of his eidolons to be found. No Satchel in sight, either.
I kept my eyes glued on him, vigilant, maybe a little afraid. He’d betrayed me enough already. I didn’t need him pulling even more of his dirty tricks. The others were already there, the soles of their shoes catching in the grass as they stopped abruptly, just as surprised to see him. Sylvain’s shoulders rose and fell with every slow breath, so fiercely loyal and protective that he’d already covered me with his body.
The tinkle of Ember’s jewelry sounded more ominous somehow, the air around him burning hotter, the bright glow of his body registering in my peripheral vision. The clink of potions from Bruna’s belt, the low growl from Namirah’s throat, even in her human form — it was incredibly reassuring to know that my friends always had my back, how I could easily tell without having to look.
Somehow the sight of a lone summoner was more frightening than seeing him surrounded by all his creatures. It was the anxiety of anticipation, the terror of not knowing what Baylor could call to his side. The near future was brimming with horrible, deadly potential.
“I didn’t think we’d find you so quickly,” I said, hanging back with the others. Five against one sounded like a far better deal to me, at least until Baylor actually unleashed his eidolons.
He waved his hand and chuckled. “Why not settle this quickly, I thought? Like men. See how much grace I offer you, Lochlann, knowing that you’re still a boy. Still trembling in your father’s shadow.”
“Get over yourself. First things first. Satchel has nothing to do with this. Let him go.”
“On the contrary, my familiar has everything to do with this. See how powerless you’ve become without your precious medallion. No. He might have other uses. I think I’ll hang on to him.”
Ember shot forward with a chaotic jingling of chains and bangles. Sylvain’s reflexes were incredible, catching Ember in mid-flight with a single hand. Ember hissed and kicked in defiance, but we knew better. Baylor was a dangerous man. We’d free Satchel some other way.
Still, Baylor laughed, tilting his head as he spoke. “Are you so concerned for your pixie friend, little one? Not to worry. He hasn’t come to any harm. At least not yet.”
“Kill him,” Ember sputtered, his words only muffled because he was trying to get them out through Sylvain’s fingers. “Going to kill him.”
I stepped in front of them both, hoping to distract Baylor from the idea of striking at Ember first. “Why did you even bother coming back, Baylor?”
He raised his chin at me. “Referring to me by my first name? Defiant, aren’t you? You know why I returned. It was to bring your mother out of the Wispwell, rekindle my relationship with my wife. Nothing more, nothing less.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheeks, trying to ignore the implication of his words — that he’d never meant to reconnect with me at all. That this had never been about family. Not really. Just something between him and his eidolon.
“Tell me this, then. Why did you engineer the Withering?”
Baylor’s eyebrow cocked. “How long have you known? You guessed before Brittle and the fire sprite put everything together, didn’t you?”
“I had a hunch, even though I hated the idea of it. We’re summoners. We find the right eidolon for every situation, the right tool for every job, and that always comes down to figuring out the best element to use. Dr. Fang taught me as much, and you’ve done the same throughout your career. Who else but a grand summoner would understand enough of the language of the deep elementals to craft this mad curse?”
“Pah. You call it mad. I call it inspired. To drain the world of moisture, remove water wherever the plague touched. It’s horrific, yes, but really quite elegant at the end of the day. The deliberate elemental imbalance made ripples, if you’ll pardon the pun. In the end, truly, it was the most sensible method by which I could lure your mother out of the Wispwell.”
My mouth fell open. Mom had said as much. The elements were out of balance. The world called, so she answered. We found the cure through the Wispwell, mostly eliminated its blight, but so many had already been hurt by the Withering’s brittle embrace. All this, just to force her back?
“It was meant to coax her out in the end, but alas, it appears that the curse has gone too far. A failed attempt, in all. At the beginning I might have considered it a curious study in how the arcane underground would handle an epidemic. An experiment.”
Sylvain stepped forward so forcefully he could have cracked stone with his footfalls. “Listen to yourself. You endangered not only the magical population, but the fae of the Verdance as well. My own mother was infected by the Withering.”
Baylor’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. I recognized it as the childlike curiosity of someone who loved to learn. On the face of a young student, perhaps even an aged scholar stumbling upon some new discovery, I might describe the expression as uplifting, even inspiring. On the face of the man who used to be my father, it was chilling.
“And did your royal mother receive the agonizing blessings of the Withering? Oh, do tell, Prince Sylvain. If only I’d found some way to isolate the curse’s tendency to empower someone’s magic without whittling away their physical form. Without killing them.”
“You’re despicable!” Sylvain roared. I tugged him away by the arm, my muscles straining, needing all of Bruna and Namirah’s help to hold him back.
Baylor waved his hand and rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Call it scientific curiosity. Again: an experiment.”
I pointed straight into my father’s face, a gesture that not two days ago I might have considered disrespectful. Unthinkable. “You’ve lost it, Baylor. Really, creating the Withering just to get Mom’s attention? That sounds like a pretty fucking extreme way to get your wife to pick up the phone.”
“Contrary to everything you may believe, Lochlann, I do love your mother.” He turned up his nose. “I wouldn’t have gone to such a ‘fucking extreme’ if I didn’t care.”
“You and I have very different ideas of what it means to love someone, then. Your definition involves ownership. Mom was just another trinket to add to your collection.”
He bared his teeth. “How dare you speak of my wife that way? And don’t believe for one second that you’re above any of this, Lochlann. You’re not any different at all. A summoner, exactly like the father you so detest. Your entire stock of arcane power — no, your veryidentity— hinges on your enslavement of the creatures beneath you.”
My jaw dropped, not because he’d prompted some grand epiphany, but because I knew he was very, very wrong. I looked at my friends, at Sylvain, most of all, who knew my thoughts without me even having to speak them.
