Page 42 of Blood King, Part I (Crowns #4)

“Go,” Everan told him. “I’ll tell the council you’ll meet with them later, and I’ll start the men working on mass accommodations for the arrivals.”

Cyrus didn’t need too much convincing. “Thank you, brother.”

Everan nodded, then turned and set to his task.

“So, you’ve created a portal?” Cyrus pressed as he fell in step beside Essandra, back toward her chamber.

“Not exactly a portal, but a way to travel, yes.”

“And this will let us bring back Jaem and Bravat and the rest of our men?”

“Not yet,” Essandra said. “First, I have to see if it works. And it’s not like Tomel’s power—you can’t just travel anywhere.” They passed the hall to her chamber, and his brow hitched. Where were they going?

“What do you need from me?” he asked.

“I need you to help me travel through the Aether, since only a seer can.”

They reached a cross hall, and she turned the corner to the right. He followed, confused. “I didn’t think the Aether was a place,” he said.

“It’s not, but I’ve employed… an unconventional magic to use it like a bridge between two points in the physical world.”

“What do you mean unconventional magic ?”

She swallowed. It took her several steps before she answered. “Dark magic,” she said finally. She seemed to think he’d be troubled by that, but it held no meaning for him.

“Look, I’ll be completely honest with you,” she said. “This portal serves me and my agenda. I’ve linked it to a place that I need to go to gather an ingredient for my spell.”

He didn’t need to ask her which spell. He knew—the Amoran Cup spell.

“I had to link to a place of great power for the portal spell anyway,” she explained.

“This place is the only one I know, and even then, I’m not sure if it will be enough.

If this does work, I still won’t be able to create a different portal closer to your men.

But where I’m taking us isn’t terribly far from Mercia, and I think it will prove a reasonable solution for your needs too. ”

It was certainly better than sending his men through the Tribelands.

“So, what do you need from me?” he asked.

“A tether, or a bonding spell, and for you to come with me so I can travel through.”

“What’s a bonding spell?”

She reached a chamber and opened the door, and Cyrus followed her in.

It was a study—no, not a study—a workroom, similar to Teron’s.

A large table sat in the center, and on every wall, shelves stretched from floor to ceiling.

They were filled with all her witchy things: books and scrolls, stacks of bowls, bottles of tonics, and jars of bones.

“What’s a bonding spell?” he asked again.

“Exactly what it sounds like,” she answered shortly.

He caught her arm, pulling her to him and forcing her to look at him.

Her green eyes flashed in challenge. When faced with fight or flight, he suspected she’d always choose fight, but he wasn’t looking for a fight right now.

He did want to help her—this was important to both of them.

Maybe she saw that, because, slowly, she softened. He loosened his hold.

She swallowed. “I’m sorry. I’m just…” Her voice dropped, betraying her fear. “I haven’t been able to get it to work, and if this doesn’t work now, with you…”

He glanced around the room and noticed all the open and half-filled jars on the table and bowls with various mixtures and the ash of spells past. Books lay strewn open, with parchments of notes that had been stricken and rewritten many times over.

Evidence of prior tryings. And failings.

“If this doesn’t work, you’ll keep trying until you figure out what does,” he assured her. She nodded, but he could still see her doubt. “Tell me what to do,” he said.

“The tether works similarly to the bond you create when your blood touches someone’s skin,” she explained, “except this will be a bond of the body, not a bond of the mind. There are several uses for this specific bond. In this case, I’ll use it so the power of the Aether sees my body the same as yours, which will allow me to travel through it as you do.

For this, it’s you who needs to take my blood. ”

“Do all spells need blood?” he asked. It seemed like quite a lot of them did.

She pricked her finger with the tip of her dagger, drawing a small crimson swell. “I can mix it in a bowl with wine, if that’s easier.” She glanced around behind her for a carafe. “Blood holds the most power—”

Her words stopped abruptly as he caught her hand and brought her finger to his lips, taking it into his mouth and sucking gently.

He wondered if she felt how he did when his blood touched another—the instant bond.

She certainly felt something, as she stared at him with her eyes large.

Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and her lips parted.

Then she cleared her throat and quickly pulled her hand from him.

“Blood, um, holds the most power, so, um, most spells that, um, require a lot of power need it.” She stood awkwardly, very uncharacteristic of her, but snapped out of it as she shuffled him toward the center of the room.

Facing him, she whispered, “Amana fasora.” A spell.

Again, he expected a physical feeling, for something to happen, but nothing did. “Did it work?” he asked.

She pushed up the sleeve of his tunic and, with the flick of her wrist, made the tiniest of cuts on the inside of his forearm.

He flinched, and she winced. “What did you do that for?”

“It worked,” she said simply.

His brows dipped. “How do you know?”

“I just do.” She slipped the dagger back into its sheath. At least she was done cutting him. For now.

“So, I should be able to travel through and take with me those physically bonded or tethered to me?” he asked. If this worked, he could use it to bring the rest of his men back.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“How many people can I tether at a time?”

She hesitated. “That comes with other risks. Let’s just see if this works first.”

He studied her for a moment—her deep emerald eyes, the flush of excitement in her cheeks. Her hope.

“All right,” he said.

Essandra hurriedly moved around the table and took a bowl with a dark sand mixture inside. She poured it into a small sachet. “This creates the door,” she said. “We’ll pour a line and step over it. But we can’t use all of it. We need some to create a door back as well.”

He pushed out a breath between his lips. “All right.” This was getting complicated, but he trusted her.

Essandra stood beside him. She poured a palmful of the dark mixture into her hand and drew a line in front of them.

“What if this doesn’t work?” he asked. “What will happen?”

“We’ll probably burn in the Aether.”

He jerked abruptly. “What?”

“It’s a very small possibility, though. Very small. I think.”

“Well, I’m not sure—”

“It’s fine. It’s going to work.”

She sounded confident enough.

“All right,” he said finally.

Essandra sucked in a deep breath before exhaling, then she looked up at him. “I’m nervous,” she confessed.

“ You’re nervous?” What the f—

And she pulled him through.