Page 78 of Acolyte (Tempris #2)

Which meant that both Carin and Asher were likely standing behind him now, concealed behind a veil of water magic. And though Asher would be easy to take out—he was weaker, slower—Carin could be a problem. She was a shadow mage. Not as strong as Vaughn, but still formidable.

Skye kept his eyes pointed straight ahead. This was a trap, and Vaughn was the distraction. If he gave even the faintest hint that he’d figured it out—this would be over before it had even begun.

“So if you don’t follow my orders—” Skye began, letting his magic fan out, feeling for the edges of the water glamour. Just behind him and to the left, and Vaughn was still advancing—herding him. “—then who holds your loyalty?”

Vaughn chuckled darkly. “That is none of your concern.”

“I’m afraid I have to disagree with you there.” Skye glanced over his shoulder, pretending to trip as he looked for the ripple of water magic he knew would be there.

Shards, think. Think!

They didn’t want him dead. That was a safe assumption.

After all, Vaughn had already had plenty of opportunities to gain the upper hand.

He could’ve struck without warning at any point, but he hadn’t attacked, hadn’t even drawn his weapon.

Instead, he had set a trap, putting his men in the perfect position to jump out and disarm him as soon as he stepped into range.

Which meant they wanted him alive. For what reason—he couldn’t be sure. But that did give him a slight advantage.

“Come, Skylen,” Vaughn said, holding out his hands in a gesture of friendship. “Let’s talk. You must have questions—questions that I can answer. ”

“Why don’t we start with why you’re really here? It’s not to help me, that’s for sure.”

“We want the girl, of course.”

Skye snarled, body shaking with rage.

Another step. Another glance—it was a good glamour, practically invisible.

But not completely. He could still see a shimmer in the space beside the dais, where the light shifted and bent as though it were being directed through a prism.

And truthfully, if they had expected him not to notice the faint itch of water magic permeating the air, then they must truly believe him to be a novice.

Which was fair. With only twenty-five summers to his name, he was a child in their eyes. How could he match hundreds, perhaps even thousands of years of experience?

The simple answer was that he couldn’t. Not in a direct fight.

They had more training, a more complete command of their magic.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t use their assumptions to his advantage.

He was young—that was true. But he was still a member of House Ghislain—one of the most powerful houses in the history of the Fey Imperium.

He had more raw aether at his command than most fey could ever dream of possessing, and he had been schooled in the art of magic since birth.

A plan began to take shape, and he pulled at his magic, letting his aether curl around the crystals embedded in his armor and clacking together in his pocket. With the dense ambient aether swirling all around them, Vaughn was unlikely to notice this subtle shift .

“I’m sorry, Vaughn.” Skye plastered on his best smirk when Vaughn angled his head, confused. “But I don’t think this is a fair fight.”

Whirling in place, Skye ducked as a sword shrieked overhead. There was no one in front of him, but that water glamour still itched.

Find the water mage. That’s what Ivain had always said. It was easier to fight if you could see what you were facing.

Skye scanned the area—saw the ripple, the subtle shift in the light.

He lunged, immediately slamming into a body. The man barely had time to grunt before Skye had planted his feet and swung his sword in a wide arc.

Blood sprayed, wet and warm, as a head with wild blonde hair rolled across the gleaming marble tile. Asher’s body slumped to the ground as the water glamour evaporated in a hiss of mist and magic.

Carin slowly faded into focus, eyes wide and swiftly filling with tears. She was only a few steps away, her attention riveted on that head as it continued to bounce and roll, leaving a trail of blood across the tile.

Less than a heartbeat of hesitation, but Skye seized it, launching himself forward.

Carin recovered, her own aether pulsing as she let out an enraged scream that bounced off the walls, echoing with a pain that was all-too-familiar. Asher had been a friend, maybe more.

And now he was dead.

Skye swung his sword, but she met his blade with her own, sinking the dagger in her off-hand into his side, then his gut, rage fueling each blow.

The pain was sharp, but he didn’t let himself falter.

He’d been expecting that blow, as well as the next, and the next.

She was fast, striking with lightning-quick precision.

But Skye was still larger.

And now she was close—close enough for him to end this fight.

Clenching his jaw, Skye dodged the knife, feinting left, then right. Her dagger sliced through nothing but air, throwing her slightly off-balance, and he hooked a foot behind hers, tugging at her ankle and sending her hurtling towards the ground.

Bone crunched, and metal clanged. A second head rolled to join the first.

The altercation was over in seconds, and Skye panted, gritting his teeth against the pain.

The air reeked of blood, but he forced back the bile as he stepped over the body and the rapidly spreading pool of crimson still gushing from the neck of the corpse.

He raised his sword and fixed his attention back on Vaughn.

One-on-one. He liked those odds a bit better. Granted, Vaughn was stronger, but at least he stood a chance now.

“Well now,” Vaughn drawled, re-sheathing his own sword without any sense of urgency.

Skye’s eyes tracked the movement. “It seems I underestimated you.” A glance at the bodies that still twitched, the two heads that lay only a few feet apart, twin expressions of slack-jawed shock distorting their delicate, fey features.

“Not that it matters. This is an irritation, but hardly a setback. They were far from important.”

Traitor, traitor, traitor. The word was a chant, pounding in his blood. This man had been in their city. He had worked with their guards and their people—and they’d had no idea.

Skye adjusted his grip on his sword, groaning when the tendons of his arm sparked with pain. Carin had stabbed him twice in the ribs and once in the gut, but the wounds should’ve healed by now. He channeled a bit more aether, but—

Why wasn’t he healing?

“It will be a slight inconvenience replacing Lady Fenmar, but” —Vaughn smiled— “I suppose we have you now, don’t we? The simulacrum was a bit crude, but as long as you have the aptitude for bloodcraft, the rest can be taught.”

Skye didn’t reply. Merely kept his sword raised as Vaughn began to circle him. The pain was spreading, and he was still bleeding. He could feel his aether start to dip.

“To be honest,” Vaughn said, “we were starting to think you weren’t going to look for the girl. We knew you were the key, of course. One more week, however, and my master was going to have you seized, and I doubt your pretty little bondmate would’ve liked that very much.”

Skye’s stomach churned. There was no way this man could’ve known about the bond. No way he could’ve known who or what she was.

Unless…

“I was there,” Vaughn clarified, no doubt reading the shock in his expression. “When she projected. Little thing probably thought she was dying with so much magic pouring out of her. I suspect she went to say her goodbyes.”

Vaughn was still circling. And Skye let him, keeping an eye on the door. Trying to ignore the rising pain .

“Whether you know it or not, we are at war ,” Vaughn said, hands clasped behind his back.

“There is a plague moving through our ranks. A sickness that could kill us all. Fewer and fewer of our kind are born each year, and yet the Genesis Council has done nothing. They sit on their thrones, watching as we allow our fellow fey to breed with those Shardless beasts , all in some vain attempt to pad our ranks with half-blood imposters.”

Those yellow eyes flared. “My master is the only one willing to do what must be done. He has given us a way forward, a promise for the future, and your bondmate is going to help him deliver us. With a time mage, we can solve this problem once and for all.”

“Taly will never help you,” Skye bit out. The pain continued to blaze, setting his blood on fire and pulsing like a second heart. “And neither will I.”

“Are you sure about that?”

A beat of confusion, and then—

Skye’s grip on his sword began to slacken, the strength leaching from his body.

That snake’s smile widened. “Let me put it this way.”

Weakness pulled at Skye’s arms and legs, rapidly spreading into every cell and fiber. His sword clattered to the ground. Poison, he thought, trying not to let the panic take root. The pain, his wounds—Carin’s dagger must have been tipped with poison.

So he began to push back. It was eating away at his aether, but he pushed back. There were ways to clear poison from the blood—with bloodcraft. He only needed to figure out how to shape the spell, how to—

Vaughn kicked the sword away, and the clang of metal against tile thundered in Skye’s ears as he tried but failed to rein in his aether. His magic was crushing in on him, lurching out of his control and threatening to devour every shred of sense.

Vaughn said, “You only have two choices, boy.”

The pain spread beneath his skin like a living fire, and the world went in and out of focus. Skye stumbled, swaying on his feet. But still pushing.

“One,” Vaughn continued, so calm, so collected, “you come with us, and convince your bondmate to do the same.”

The blood was flowing out of him in a steady stream, draining his magic and leaching the color from his skin. It pooled on the floor around him, so garishly red against the snowy white tile.

No.