Page 13 of To Sway a Prince
His jaw worked. "I am not condemning him to death. This is his calling as it is mine. None of us are safe in this place," he said sharply. "Do you even understand what the Chasm is? What it does, woman?" He dragged his hand across the back of his neck, shoving aside his long, sleek hair. "Astraia?—"
My core tightened when he said my name. I folded my arms tighter, pushing that feeling down. Not the time or the place.
He released a heavy sigh. "I am not sacrificing them. But they are our last line of defense in protecting the Chasm from this world and itself. Without the dragons, I cannot shut the rifts that are tearing open within it. Without the dragons, I cannot defend our world. Without them, the Eye of the Needle falls, and once it falls, all of Rune may fall as well or at least be deeply and grievously wounded. I'm sorry." He then lifted his hand. "Do not make this harder than it must be."
My gut clenched. I tried to rush him, but he moved too fast, silver magic spilling from his fingertips. Runes spun around me in a silver column, a cyclone of letters and light, and then—something cleaved within my spirit.
The stable pulsed and hummed with energy, jagged streaks of lightning arcing across the air. Zephyrus's ears pinned backagainst his broad skull as he snarled. The other dragons roused as well, their hoarse bellows and rasping roars filling my ears. My hands flew to my chest, clawing at the runes that swept over me.
"Zephyrus!" I screamed.
Everything went dark.
6
FINDING THE LIMIT
Something had changed. The binding wrapped around my spirit like a girdle, tight, uncomfortable, but not precisely painful. More emotional than physical. Its weight held fast as I struggled to comprehend what had happened and how Ramiel had accomplished it so swiftly.
The darkness faded, and I found myself in what appeared to be another section of the tower. Fat globed oil lamps hung on the walls, casting flickering shadows all around me. Though cracks and crevices lined the aged walls, it was well kept and clean, smelling like stone and magic. My nose tickled, the musky scent of stagnant as well as biting fresh magics mingling. Hints of old parchment reached me as well, coating my tongue along with the acrid taste of the binding.
Swearing, I struck my fist against the wall. Bright pain flared through my wrist, and I screamed, just as much from frustration as pain. How had he managed to do it so fast? Binding rituals were supposed to take whole minutes, and he'd just shorthanded the whole thing. Somehow. Somehow!
Maybe he'd messed it up going that fast. Straightening my bodice and adjusting my cloak, I started down the hall.Wretched silver-haired bastard! If he thought I was bested, he had another thing coming.
I didn't even try to stay quiet this time. I just hurried forward. My aura flared out, aware of the sigils and wards. None were hostile. None even slowed me. They weren't even trying. He hadn't sent me back to the cell either. A strange choice, and one I'd ensure he regretted.
A staircase spiraled ahead, and as I neared it, warmth spilled over me in strange and intense waves. My heart skipped at the unexpected sensation—tenderness, heat, affection—almost like a caress that lingered on my skin. It was just like those dreams. So soft. So warm. A distinct mark on the inside of that wall made it easy to remember: a shield with three swords.
I couldn't afford any delays or surprises. So I pushed the sensation away and hurried down the hall. The binding within me tightened with each step, twisting but not painful. It pinched my breaths a little and then settled in. I paused, pressing my hand to it for another breath as I studied it. This was…different. Ramiel could have made the binding curse painful, but he didn't. Even though it tightened, it never reached a point of pain. Essentially just an awareness.
I carried on, scowling at this. Why would he do that? I certainly wouldn't show that courtesy to a trespasser who was trying to free a dragon I'd imprisoned for some purpose. Was it a mistake or perhaps intentional?
Within minutes, I found the staircase that led back down to the stable. The runes and sigils and wards did not react to my presence beyond pulsing a little with light. Nothing new so far. My muscles tightened. He could have easily added a couple unpleasant surprises here.
Nothing in the stairwell either.
As soon as I reached the bottom step and peered into the stable, I slowed. All the dragons so far were fast asleep. I creptfarther in, steady and silent. Their breathing filled the stable like a rumbling, rhythmic hum, punctuated by occasional snorts and huffs. Even as they slept as peacefully as if they had never been interrupted.
Zephyrus was still in his cell in the back. He cocked his head when he saw me, not greeting me with his usual enthusiasm. His tail struck the flagstones. I held up my hands to reassure him I was all right as I glanced around. "We're going to sort this out, Zeph." Where was Ramiel?
That miserable, frost-hearted bastard wasn't even down in the stable. He was so confident in his spell, he didn't even deign to be here to ensure it worked? I despised that man more with every passing moment. The sheer arrogance! Well, I'd make sure to be his undoing. He had underestimated me, and he'd regret that.
Zephyrus grunted and folded his wings back tight. He did not sound impressed.
"I'm going to figure this out," I said.
The chiding chuff that followed confirmed he did not believe me. But he didn't sound worried either.
Shaking my head, I drew closer slowly. The first thing was to determine the limits of the binding spell. The lack of pain and discomfort meant that there had been safety measures woven into it, so the pulseporting wouldn't take me somewhere like the middle of a wall.
I got within arm's reach of Zephyrus, and it pulseported me away.
Polph!
The world briefly spun as darkness swept over me. Then I landed in a dark sitting room. No torches or lamps brightened the dark, but my eyes adjusted swiftly.
White sheets draped over the furniture, dust motes swirling lazily from my disturbance. The musky scent of old velvet,ancient silk, and dry wood mingled with faint traces of arcane energy. A large stone fireplace dominated one wall, its hearth cold and empty. I swallowed a snarl of frustration. It was all right. This was just part of the process. I was going to find a way through.
