Page 2 of The Malice of Moons and Mages (The Broken Bonds of Magic #1)

Two

Lua

Moon Tribes Oji

L ua lay curled on his side, planning the murders of each person aboard the Mirren . For two days, he’d languished in the bowels of the ship, encouraging his captors to believe he was defeated while gathering strength enough to manage the spells necessary for escape.

“It’s nearly time.”

The moon’s voice pulled him from his musings on the cell’s musty floor. Salty air burned his throat, distracting him from the nausea brought on by the rocking sea and the tearing of flesh where the constraint bolt burrowed deeper into his back. It squealed like a wounded cat when he resisted it—high-pitched and furious.

It would take everything to sever his anchor, but Dain’s betrayal left Lua no other option. If Selene, his sister, took him back to Uduary, their tribes were doomed. With the Rajav dead, the people needed a stable leader, not a darker shadow of the man who’d just been assassinated. And the Song tribe was too desperate to maintain control. It was time for Silence to rise again .

Whispering prayers to the Silence moon god, he didn’t deserve the blessings asked for, not after everything he had done. Even less so if he survived this day. With that thought in mind, Lua tugged off his stained gloves.

He reached down the magical threads connecting him to Dain, his anchor, trying to draw energy from him. But the way remained blocked, as it had been for the last three days. If Lua waited any longer, he’d be too weak to manage the task before him, whether the Song and Silence moons favored him or not.

On the ship’s deck, sheltered beneath silk canopies from the harsh Starling rays, mid-level mages cast steady winds that pressed the sails northward. Their magic whispered to him through the air. Lua would need to take it all, down to their very lives, to survive.

All Moon mages knew where Starling was in the sky, since its light diminished the powers of the moons and their magic. The star would set in a few hours, and then Song moon would rise in a parallel trajectory beside Raia’s emerald ring. Lua needed to act before Starling passed over the horizon. Well before they travelled into northern waters, where his sister’s collection of Song tribe soldiers and more powerful mages awaited his delivery.

Xiang, his sister’s favorite general, was on his way to intercept the Mirren, likely accompanied by another triad of mages. This was further proof that Selene didn’t want him dead yet. She had plans for him, or, more specifically, for his magic. Lua needed to disappear before Xiang arrived.

There was a small knock on the cell’s door a breath before it opened. Rayan, a six star mage, carried a tray of food. Lua had taught her the spell that got her that ranking and relied on those nostalgic emotions to bring her nearer. He’d been in the same position for days, each tray she’d kindly delivered went untouched. Her footsteps paused, as they had before, and she settled the tray slowly on the floor.

Rayan’s voice was soft with natural concern and empathy. “Oji, are you awake?"

He kept his breath shallow. The movement of his chest was barely visible beneath the layers of black silk and the long shroud of ebony hair surrounding him. Dried blood pooled on the oaken planks beneath him, a consequence of the bolt’s damage. Lua had smeared that blood down the sides of his face, pasting his locks to his skin so that the hair wouldn’t inhibit his movement or vision when the time came.

Rayan hesitated before stepping cautiously forward. “Oji?” But she’d come too near.

Lua gripped her ankle and yanked her to the ground. The struggle was short and quiet. Only a small cry rang in the air before Rayan’s voice dried. Her muscles clamped tight in protest as they shriveled. Skin withered on her bones. Her dark eyes dulled and emptied as his magic consumed hers.

The bolt whined, twisted, and squealed as it fought to restrain him. He grimaced, accepting the pain while continuing his resistance.

Lua pulled himself to standing and shook the stiffness from his limbs. Rayan’s husk lay at his feet. He closed her eyes, her skin already fragile and ashy. She’d known better than to get near him. Avoid contact with any mage over ten stars, only their anchor was made for it. Rayan’s foolish concern had been a mistake that she’d paid for with her life.

The food’s enticing smell caught his attention, but he wasn't hungry yet. Dain, like all other anchors, had no magic. An anchor’s sole purpose was to act as a robust repository for their mage’s power. However, ever since their capture, Lua hadn’t been able to reach or control Dain. These offensive limitations on their connection prevented Lua from drawing more than the essentials for life. If Lua managed to siphon all the mages’ magic, he’d be able to cut the strings between Dain and himself. If the Silence monastery sent aid and another anchor with them, perhaps he’d live. But there were too many ifs.

The Mirren was too far from land, and unless the Silence monks had anticipated what Selene would do, it wasn’t likely they’d arrive in time. Lua was on his own, and he’d rather take his chances with the ocean than his sister’s mercy.

The Oji’s lethargy had made the guards in the hall too complacent, believing in their victory. The bolt’s frantic whisper startled them a moment before Lua’s fingers brushed their arms. As they stiffened and fell backward against the wall, he claimed one of their poleaxes and hauled them into the cell with Rayan. The crude weapon felt awkward, but it would do until he was stronger .

Lua siphoned the lives of four more guards, stuffing their bodies into rooms as he went. He stood outside Brav and Elicia’s door, listening to the soft snores emanating from within. Elicia would be sleeping with a weapon at the ready. If Lua’s preference ever had any weight, he’d have been bonded with Elicia rather than Dain. But the Rajav had never given any bearing to his son’s desires.

Lua’s hand paused on the door handle, sending a sliver of magic to release the gears of the lock. He held his breath at the small click. Pressing the door slowly open, he winced as the bolt squirmed deeper.

Elicia’s sword sliced through the air, severing a lock of his hair as Lua ducked sideways. His poleaxe caught her blade on the second swing. A thin silver thread of magic wound from his fingers, strengthening his weapon under her assault.

Brav roused with a start, flinging the covers from an abdomen so thick it hid his genitals. He stood, naked, spanning his arms like a fool, and began a low chant. He’d never been a subtle man, too obvious in his choices for Lua’s liking, but he had talent. His spell would land hard if Lua didn’t disarm him the easiest way possible.

Lua thrust the poleaxe’s spike toward Elicia’s arms, catching her hand on her hilt. He jerked the spike back, dripping her blood across the floor. Brav cried out, his hand bled a matching insult. His spell fumbled.

Silence mages knew to embrace pain if they wished to survive it. Those of the weak and unfocused Song tribe lacked fortitude.

Elicia shouted for guards as she thrust the sword forward and slid away at his counter move. Lua twisted his weapon, sliding it down to the hilt of her blade as it neared. The curve of his poleaxe hooked her thumb. She screamed as he severed it from her hand.

Brav yelled, his dismembered thumb thudding on the dark floor. But this time the pain focused him. His spell strung tight and strong. It lashed across the room, heating Lua’s back as he spun away, and the magic crashed through the wall. Chunks of wood sailed through the air. Voices and boots careened down the stairs from the deck above.

With the aid of Brav’s bond, Elicia’s energy swelled. She gripped the blade with the other hand and feinted, swinging high, before dropping the blade mid-swing. Her thrust nicked Lua’s chest. Though her blood still dripped to the floor, her wounds were already mending, fresh skin stitching over her knuckle. With enough time, Brav’s magic could regrow the thumb completely. But that was a kindness Lua had no intention of giving them.

Lua darted from her sword’s path as magic lit Brav’s hands. Gray threads lashed out, a hungry whip. Lua ducked and deflected the spell, though that took half of what he’d siphoned from Rayan. He’d fall if the fight lasted much longer.

Lua blocked Elicia’s next blow and glided in close. They locked eyes as Brav’s spell threaded together and strengthened. Elicia gasped as one of Lua’s fingers skimmed her forearm.

“No!” She tried to jerk away, but Lua’s touch stayed her. Her mouth hung open, frozen in disbelief. A soft groan escaped her lips.

Behind them, Brav’s words faltered. He struggled to throw the remnants of a spell as his legs failed him. Elicia’s eyes slid to her mage as her muscles shriveled toward her bones.

“ Please not her...” Brav’s voice faded. His thick body struck the floor while Lua drained their lives away.

Lua lowered Elicia gently to the ground before siphoning the rest of Brav’s magic. He took a deep breath. Their energy swelled inside him while he ignored the weight of guilt. Emotions like that would only get him killed.

Lua draped a scarf over Elicia’s face as the thundering footsteps neared. Would that he had as good and honorable an anchor as Elicia had been to Brav. He hoped it was just one regret the Rajav had before he died. But for regret to occur, someone had to feel something for others, and his father never cared for anyone other than himself, not even his Raani.

A surge of emotion distracted him, and the bolt burrowed deeper. He staggered, adding a stronger thread to hold the bolt at bay, then stepped into the hall to meet the soldiers.

Some died beneath a silver whip of magic, others he drained for their strength. A blessed few took the point of the poleaxe to their head for a quick end but not before landing hits to his arms and torso.

The Mirren slowed as the mages abandoned their wind spells above. They raced down the stairs to confront him. Despite the protective silk screen and robes covering their fair skin, Starling had weakened them. They fought heartily, but the four and eight star mages lacked experience and had no anchors to draw from. Though Lua would have killed those anchors, too, if they’d had any.

Blood splattered his face, dripped down his fingers from the cuts on his arms as he stood before a cabin door. Dain’s energy pulsed on the other side. Lua focused on the thick threads still connecting them, that sacred spell that guaranteed mutual survival or death. At eleven stars, Lua had lost and replaced anchors, but always with the help of other mages. He’d never had one betray him, never heard of it happening before. An anchor made their vows young, committed to a lifetime of selfless service. If he’d only been a ten or an eleven star, Dain’s betrayal would have been a death sentence for them both. At thirteen stars, the chances of Lua surviving were slightly higher, but not guaranteed.

Lua placed a hand on the door. Dain’s fear swept toward him, though his thoughts were still cut off. Lua’s influence remained blocked. The bolt writhed, emitting a pungent scent that drifted through his clothing, like the incense of the Western tribes before he’d helped slaughter them.

Lua sighed. Dain was trapped. Death was inevitable. Best to draw the storm first and wait for his anchor to come to him.

He donned one of the dead mage’s robes, pulling up the hood to shield his skin from Starling before heading onto the deck. Standing beneath the dark silk screen, he chanted and called on the strength of his gods. Silver threads spun from his hands, reaching for the clouds above.

He’d only drawn this spell once before, over a small Western village and monastery fifteen years prior. That memory was a bitter taste in his mouth, a foulness he’d never managed to swallow. The Westerners had fought hard, died with dignity, and their deaths had lacked satisfaction. It was only later that he understood how pointless it had been. The moons hadn’t spoken to him for a long time afterwards.

His hands moved faster, words slipping past his teeth in a succinct rhythm as the spell grew.

The wispy clouds above thickened, darkened, lashing together until they covered the sky. A sudden chill sent the sea to roil as thunder vibrated the air. The spell would linger well into the night unless Lua died. He only hoped to find land or another vessel before the clouds parted tomorrow morning. If not?—

Heavy steps broke through the pattering of rain on the deck behind him. Dain was a quiet man by nature, but tethered to such a powerful mage, he’d never had to learn the light step.

His blade missed Lua’s heart by an inch when he spun backward. A strip of his robe sailed away in the mounting wind as they stared at each other. Dain’s bloodshot eyes narrowed as the storm broke above. Hard rain wept through the silk screens, dripping down their faces.

Dain’s shirt clung to his chest, pulling the wet fabric open. A dull stone peeked from beneath, its black and red color disturbingly familiar: bloodstone. Lua’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“Take that off,” Lua said, nodding to the necklace. “We could still escape together.”

Dain wiped the water from his shorn head. His voice broke. “She took Maya.”

Lua’s jaw clenched in resignation. He should have expected no less from his sister. Dain chose his death when he’d twisted the bolt into Lua’s flesh. He offered his anchor no words, taking strength in silence as they danced around each other.

Without Lua’s magic, Dain’s long sword looked suddenly graceless. Lua batted it away with the poleaxe, taking his time. They parried as he started another spell. He brought it down as the poleaxe speared Dain’s shoulder.

Dain grimaced while Lua winced at the matching pain. Lua had hoped that the bloodstone weakening his control over Dain would also prevent him from sensing his anchor's suffering. Yet, although his skin did not break or bleed, he felt the stab. He’d feel Dain’s death just as he had with his previous anchors.

Lua sharpened and honed the spell before bringing it down again as Dain advanced. Despite the spell cutting some of the silvery threads, the knots formed over the years remained too entangled to be cleanly severed. Their connection stubbornly held.

The bolt twisted furiously, grinding deeper into his back. Lua stumbled, accepted the pain, let his resistance to it lapse as he gathered his full power .

Dain loomed, sword raised high. The poleaxe met the blade and wrenched it away. It spun across the slippery deck as the poleaxe plunged into Dain’s gut.

Lua’s spell slammed down between them. They flew in opposite directions as the bond snapped and unraveled.

The sharp pain in Lua’s stomach faded quickly, leaving the sensation of a deep bruise. With labored breath, he drew the dregs of his magic around the bolt and slowed its movement again. The unspooling threads of Dain’s life force lashed desperately toward Lua, but he shielded himself and batted it away.

He drew the spell that he hoped would keep him alive without an anchor until the Silence monks found him. But he didn’t know how long he’d last. He stood on trembling legs.

Dain was sprawled on the deck in a pool of blood and pelting rain. One hand gripped the handle that jutted from his stomach. He moaned pitifully as Lua moved closer. Dain mouthed soundless words until he fell still. Lua closed his eyes gently and said a small prayer.

Grief would have to wait.

Thunder cracked as the storm gained strength with the violence necessary to sink the Mirren . There was no time. Darting below deck, he found his ebony robes neatly folded in Dain’s rooms. That the man had cared for them so tenderly sickened him further.

Ominous, green-tinged clouds swirled above as Lua tumbled into the small rowboat. His hands slipped on the ropes and gears as he tried to loosen them. He cursed. There was no magic left unless he relaxed his hold on the bolt, and that would hasten his demise. He struck the winch repeatedly until his knuckles bled.

The ropes released at the same moment a lightning bolt split the ship in half. The rowboat slammed into the water. It tipped, hovering on its side for a long moment before toppling over and trapping Lua beneath it.

Ducking under the side, he sucked in sea water while gasping for air. Lua clung to the overturned boat as angry waves beat their wrath. Starling was setting. The star’s power waned behind the clouds. It was no night for Silence, the larger, slower moon, but perhaps if he prayed, Song would watch over him .

“ Are you worthy of being Rajav to the Moon tribes, little Oji? After everything you’ve done? ” Song asked.

Something brushed his feet beneath the water. It slithered past, working its way to the corpses from the ship. A long thick tail flicked upward, silver scales gleaming, before it crashed down on the moon mage and the boat. He flailed, grasping at water and finding nothing to hold.

The next wave took him under and dragged him deeper to sea.