Page 2 of Rogue's Possession (Covenant of Thorns 2)

In this case, the drowning death of half the humans in the opposing army. Or navy, I guess.

I sure as hell couldn’t drown a bunch of innocent humans. The fae might regard their lives as disposable, but I knew the men on those ships had no more choice—or stake—in Falcon’s ridiculous war games than the wooden vessels themselves. Rogue had warned me I’d face this moment if I chose to honor my servitude instead of running off with him. Since I hadn’t been eager to exchange my status for an even more questionable one with Rogue, I was well and truly stuck.

Don’t think about him.

A white slice of anger at my current predicament flared in me. Something sharp and alien enough to take my breath away. I shuttered my mind, thinking it came from elsewhere, but it continued its headlong race through my heart and disappeared again, leaving me rattled. This wasn’t the first time I’d felt it since the last battle—like the remnants of a fever dream after you’ve awakened. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I knew giving it attention was probably a bad idea.

Instead I concentrated on my goals for the day:

1.Do what you’re told.

2.Keep to simple agreements.

3.Stay alive.

4.Try not to kill anyone.

The four habits of highly effective sorceresses.

I found a rock to sit on, tucked the cloak around me and watched the ships wheeling around, puffs of flame and smoke exchanged, and not much else.

Maybe it was just me, but I found battle to be incredibly dull. Especially from a distance. I had no doubt it didn’t feel that way for the people actually fighting. As far as spectacles, however, it was terribly overrated. And then knowing that people were losing their lives for no good reason—it all made my stomach clench. There were few combinations worse than horrific monotony.

Darling had fallen asleep and I envied him the easy nap. To keep myself focused, I counted ships. Then counted again.

With a slowly dawning horror I realized there were nine enemy vessels. And I’d agreed in specific language to sink exactly half of them. No matter if I sank four or five, I’d be an oath breaker. My knotted stomach revolted as I thrust away the images of what I’d seen happen to those who violated their bargains. I couldn’t let it happen to me.

Despite the chill air, a cold sweat broke out over my scalp.

Could I sink half a ship? And how would I make sure it was exactly half? The sailors and fighters on board would certainly count, and they’d be in motion. It would be next to impossible to make sure exactly half of them—no more, no less—went into the drink. And then how to keep them from dying?

I tried to make good use of the downtime, planning a spell that might simulate drowning. Darling, clearly just catnapping, showed me a mermaid giggling and cuddling him against her plump naked bosom. I seriously doubted he’d really found any mermaids, but he insisted on the tale.

Though…didn’t mermaids save drowning sailors? Maybe I could work that angle.

Darling yawned and stretched.Uh-oh.He sent me an image of General Falcon conferring with the fae noble in charge of the navy. It had to be nearly time, though the battle below looked much the same to me. The fae both looked upset, however, pointing at the sky and growing red-faced.

From my vantage point, I tried to discern which way they were looking. And then I saw them.

Dragons.

Heart thudding up into my throat, I stood, squinting at the V formation of giant reptiles flying through the roiling clouds. They sparkled like jewels despite the gloom, glorious, impossible and terrifying. I’d encountered them only once before, but that had been plenty to convince me to keep my distance. Immune to magic, they were the enemy’s trump card.

Darling sent a pointed poke, like a claw-swipe to my mind.“Now.”

I reached deep inside for the place my trainers had taught me to find, that cool and remote spot where I existed without attachment to the world. It came from nothingness. The nothing I had become when they destroyed me before rebuilding me in their image. Almost.

My skills had been hard-won, paid for with pain and the kind of loss of self that comes only from torture and sophisticated brainwashing. I was frankly lucky to still be sane. If I truly was.

Carefully I shaped the idea of what I wanted. Precision was crucial if you didn’t want unpleasant side-results. Like with organic chemistry, a slight error turned sugar to poison. To keep it simple, I focused on sinking four of the ships, holding the images of those particular ones clearly in mind. They would come apart with slow grace, the planks becoming sieves. Gently, they would lower into the water, allowing the people on board time to swim away. I added mermaids, beautiful and solicitous, carrying the sailors and soldiers to the beach.

A lot could go wrong, but it was a key discipline to keep any of those thoughts from contaminating my idea. Only what I wanted. Exactly what I wanted.

Once I had it, perfect, shining and precise, I pulled on the energy. It seethed inside me like my own personal churning sea. In this way, Rogue had done me a favor, staying away these past few days. My desire for him raged hotter than ever before. Our torrid night together, dream world or not, had barely touched the roaring need he stoked in me. All I had to do was open the door to it and it poured through, setting fire to my idea and making it reality.

The world shimmered, shifted as the new reality settled in, and the four ships I’d selected began sinking into the waves, like ladies in fancy ball gowns dropping into a gracious curtsy and continuing forever.

The size of beetles from my perspective, men poured overboard, jumping into the water where mermaids popped up, drawing the swimmers to shore.

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