Page 74 of Blood Fist

From a tactical perspective, kidnapping and bewitching the eldest Tylock was brilliant. He was obviously a powerful magic wielder, and his identity would make anyone pause in hurting him. Which brings about the question—who was his kidnapper?

And were they an enemy to the clan? Or Kaledonea?

Jonen knelt beside Corric, rubbing his cheek against his hair. A soft rumble had Corric turning to him, closing his eyes as he buried his face into Jonen’s shoulder. Calming alpha pheromones spread through the tent, making Brune twitch a little. He stepped closer to Ridan.

“I’m going to be honest,” Ridan said, choosing to plow ahead. “I don’t know if I can keep Schok safe. The other chiefs would demand his head. Telling them he’s bewitched won’t make it any better.”

Just mentioning magic would have the clans ready to drown Schok and leave his body for the buzzards.

There was a soft cough at the tent's entrance before the flap opened and Derry stepped in. He looked nervous; his scent tinged with anxiety. Behind him was a tall, thick, black haired alpha Ridan didn’t recognize.The woman had a bag slung over her shoulder and a fresh bruise blooming across one dark cheek.

“Chief,” Derry said, knuckling his chest in a rare sign of respect from the normally aloof omega. “I…I brought someone I think can help…”

Ridan stood, taking a moment to examine the newcomer. She wasn’t Stone Blade. In fact, she smelled a lot like Thewn. And judging by her clothes—baggy and high collared—she was Iron Jaw.

She was also staring at Schok, face impassive but far too interested for Ridan’s tastes.

“Iron Jaw,” Ridan addressed her, crossing his arms over his chest.

The alpha winced, looking away. “Not anymore.”

That surprised Ridan. Derry was quick to grab the tall alpha’s arm, holding it close. “Please, Ridan, just listen.”

“I haven’t stabbed her yet, have I?”

The alpha looked worried, but Derry just smiled. “This is Halm Sharp Finger. She’s been studying under the Iron Jaw’s healer. She was in the market and witnessed the attack.”

Ridan’s patience was rapidly deteriorating. His glare must have told Derry as much because he continued.

“But she’s more than a healer’s apprentice. She is learned. Knows everything there is to know.”

Halm grumbled. “Not really…”

“This interests me, how?”

“She knows what’s wrong with the magic user.”

Corric gasped. “You know how he’s bewitched?”

“He isn’t bewitched, exactly.” Halm grabbed the strap over her chest. “He’s a thrall.”

That made everyone in the tent pause. They all looked as confused as Ridan felt, so he nodded for Halm to continue.

“Bewitching can be used to influence a person, but ultimately, it cannot control them. Thralls are different. They are puppets. Their will stripped away until they are nothing but a body only capable of doing exactly what their master commands.”

Halm stepped around Derry and closer to Schok. Jonen growled. Halm bared her neck, slowly kneeling at the side of the pit.

“See the runes? It takes a lot of magic to turn a Thrall. A lot ofoldmagic. Whoever did this might be one of the most powerful magic users left.”

“How do you know so much about magic?” Ridan demanded, feeling his hackles rise. Clansmen didn’t study magic. They didn’t talk about it; they didn’t think about it. In traditional clans like Iron Jaw, it was forbidden to evenspeakof.

“I like to learn,” Halm said sullenly. “It’s not that I can, or even want to, wield magic. I just…like knowing things.”

“Is that how you got the bruise?”

She nodded. “I told Thewn I thought I could help you. He grew angry. Banished me.”

That drew a collected gasp. The entire room went silent.Clanless.A fate worse than death, saved for only those who were irredeemable—those the clan couldn’t trust but didn’t see fit to kill. The Clanless were little more than marauders. Doing whatever they could to scrape a living in the wilds.