Page 23 of The Malice of Moons and Mages (The Broken Bonds of Magic #1)

Twenty-Three

Lua

L ua kept loose hold of the reins to keep the stubborn gelding at a safe distance. His hands may have been gloved, but fatigue caused his focus to slip and, much like his companion, the horse constantly tested him. Whenever it tossed its head, his magic lunged for the beast and Lua worried he’d not be able to restrain it much longer, despite the precautions he’d taken.

Audra stumbled and cursed. Not letting her buy the all’ight had been shortsighted. They would’ve made better time with more than ring and moonslight. Her familiarity with the terrain didn’t make it less dangerous for her in the dark.

Another argentava circled above them for a time. The small warning spell that Lua threw at it left them both spent.

Audra’s breath was white against the night sky. She shivered, tugging her hood around her face before rubbing her gloved hands together. Though this was nothing like the northern cold he was used to, her discomfort seeped into him. Back home, a second layer of snow already coated the landscape, with a frozen sheet thickening over the lakes and ponds. Soon the sea would send plates of ice crashing onto the shore as starling moved further away from them. Those nostalgic memories would not spare him from the recent horrors he’d committed when next he entered the castle. Amala was dead by his own hand.

They camped between boulders a safe distance from the road, and he cast a fire with kindling and brush. As soon as the gelding was settled, Audra curled on the ground so near the flames that her cheeks flushed. Her breath was deep and steady though her stomach rumbled. The ache of her tired legs echoed in his body.

He wasn’t at full strength and couldn’t afford to give much to her. And yet, the fact that he’d taken down the argentava with such little effort was both curious and disturbing. The spell had come unbidden. Twice. He’d searched for a flaw with Audra’s thread but found nothing unusual. The yarns were thicker, but that was to be expected, and it pulsed in rhythm with his heart. But there was an awkwardness strung between them, pulling one way then the other. This bond was different.

Audra was too uncomfortable to allow him to sleep, so he reclined beneath Silence’s rays and absorbed all that he could. With that, he sent a little nourishment to his anchor. She relaxed slightly.

Audra wasn’t the first person he’d looked after. There was his mother, of course, and Eras. Both had needed increasing care before they died.

He’d suffered with Eras, his first anchor, in the end and thought he’d deserved it for surviving. Though the monks separated them and secured him quickly to his second, Eras’s life had tried to hold on to him. He’d been forced to cut the final tie himself and watched her twitch on the floor. When he drew a new breath with his second anchor, people cheered. Lua had mourned Eras quietly in the solitude of his chambers for years after.

Memories of Eras came to him more frequently these last few days, perhaps because she’d been the only other woman he’d been anchored with. Committees had handpicked all the others from a pool of soldiers. They discouraged the women or attractive men quickly for fear of another emotional connection.

Brav and Elicia were lucky. Their emotional attachment had come after their bonding. It wasn’t always the case. When the pair was incompatible, a mage would often become their anchor’s jailer.

Lua rubbed his face. He’d suffered a greater range of emotions over these last weeks than he had in the last seventy years. He wasn’t sure if it was because of Audra or everything he’d lost.

Audra rolled onto her back and drew an arm above her head. She was so tethered to everything around her, not just family, but horses and animals. Even the way her eyes smiled at the trees, the taste of wintry air upon her tongue, and the stinging wind against her skin.

He’d never been allowed to feel so alive. Li-Hun’s control over his children had been suffocating, leaving no space for anything other than duty. With the Rajav dead, Lua suspected his sister would follow their father’s example.

Audra whimpered, dreaming again. Although her waking thoughts were barred to him, glimpses of her dreams flitted toward him. Images of faces or places twisted her memories. But what was dream and what had been real was more difficult to ascertain. He closed his eyes and followed the thread, spiraling into her fear.

Surging heat contrasted with icy air, the combustion of angry spells. Screams as white armor battled black. An occasional flash of green licked out and vanished.

A woman with familiar eyes held his hand, gripping an old sword in the other. Her tears were barely held back by a mother’s determination. A small boy clutched to her side while gold and silver spells sailed around them. Swaths of blood painted the ground as they stepped over bodies.

Then the woman set the boy on the ground and told Lua to take care of him. She ordered them to run. He hesitated, looking back once as the woman charged a towering man in white armor. Time had slowed their mother’s reflexes; her sword was too long unused. He knew what waited if he stayed, so he ran, dragging the boy behind him.

When the boy stumbled, Lua cursed and tried to drag him. Fat tears rolled down ruddy cheeks. Lua picked up the boy, darting down a narrow street that should lead into the woods. They’d hide in the forest until they got to Auntie’s.

An elegant, menacing woman blocked the way. Long, disheveled hair danced around a pale oval face with high cheekbones and cold, gray eyes. Sharp teeth shone in a wicked smile.

“There you are.” Dark magic curled between her fingertips. Audra showed no signs of recognition, but Lua knew exactly who it was. In the dream, his sister Selene whispered a few words before the spell raced toward them.

He turned, instinctively angling away, putting the boy in the spell’s path.

Lua gasped and clutched his chest to calm his racing heart. His sweat-dotted brow matched Audra’s. He cursed and stared at Silence above.

“Is this another test?” he asked. But his moon didn’t answer.

Audra twitched, still running in her dream, carrying a limp child into the winter woods.

Lua rubbed the back of his neck. There were spells that could alleviate some of the trauma, but they were complicated and would drain them both. Plus, altering memories was dangerous without specialized training typically reserved for those who chose the healer’s path. He’d never considered it before, not after witnessing his father and sister employing those skills too often.

Audra’s groan pulled at him. He could give her something of his to focus on instead. He settled on the memory of a spring flower celebration when he was small. The blue poppies broke through the crusted snow around the castle gardens beneath two full moons that traversed beneath the vibrance of Raia. Amala hoisted him higher to better see the festivities from the balcony. Her hair was fixed in a topknot with silver, teardrop-shaped pearls and moonstones dangling from the headdress around her face. She smelled of sweet rosewater and honey. Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled and pointed to the sea.

The water swirled beneath the moonslight. Long figures twirled and writhed as silver backs broke the surface. One square nose lifted, followed by another. Amala called them the sisters. Their mouths opened in a haunting song, ethereal. Everyone quieted to listen, though Lua believed those voices were meant only for him.

He held the memory another moment before sending it down the thread. Audra stilled. A few tears trailed down her cheeks, but she didn’t wake.

She had the persistence and passion usually lost when time and sorrow stole them. But given the memories he’d experienced, that felt near a lie. Audra had determination, but for what purpose he didn’t yet know.

Selene’s face in Audra’s dream had startled him and left him with more questions. Another discomfort that—again—he was unused to. But this emotion wasn’t borrowed from his anchor like the others, and he wasn’t ready to sit with it yet. He and Selene had fought in the northernmost western villages under Li-Hun’s order during the last incursion. Audra couldn’t have known her face otherwise. If Audra knew who the woman in her dreams was, things between them might deteriorate further. He was already accommodating her by agreeing to deliver the jade to her brother. That would have to be enough.

He closed his eyes and leaned back. He was getting too attached. Especially foolish considering she disliked him so intensely. Audra’s death was predetermined, the severing of their bond would see to that, no matter what kind of magic she borrowed from the jade. Nothing could save her. And he needed a stronger anchor if he had any chance of saving his people from Selene.

Audra startled. Bleary eyes squinted at him in the firelight. A hint of concern in her voice. “Everything all right?”

Lua nodded. “Go back to sleep.”

She rested her head on her arm, her voice fading. “I had a dream about you in the sea drowning.”

He tucked the blanket around her shoulders, her breath softened, and the night was quiet again. Though he fought his fatigue, his eyes closed slowly and he drifted to sleep.

Starling was blushing the sky pale orange when he woke hours later, with Audra’s face pressed against his neck. They were entwined with arms wrapped around each other. Though the fire had burned to embers, the comforting heat of her pressed against him. Scents of pine and something wholly Audra flooded his senses. His first thought was to disentangle himself before she woke and misunderstood, but he sighed. It was difficult to pull away from her. The strength of this connection was another thing both disturbing and curious. Even with everything going awry, holding Audra made it feel like everything was just right. Like he shouldn’t be anywhere other than by her side. Even if she hated him. With that thought, he jerked away. She should hate him, and he should dispose of her as soon as they reached the monastery.

Her breathing deepened as she started to rouse. Lua was poking the charred embers beside the firepit when she opened her eyes and sat up.