Page 27 of The Malice of Moons and Mages (The Broken Bonds of Magic #1)

Twenty-Seven

Xiang

N ori lost the thread four days into the journey, but Xiang had already planned their route in anticipation of such an event. The Oji wasn’t foolish enough to keep wasting his magic while in a weakened state, and there was only one place he could go. They’d hoped to follow Lua’s trail and intercept him before he arrived at the monastery, but they would forge their own path.

Although Xiang had been away from his homeland for many years, the roads hadn’t changed. Everything was smaller, dirtier, and more constricted than he remembered. The stark beauty of contrasting sienna and violet hued mountains was diminished with time, and the late blooming shrubs made his eyes water. Only the nighttime cold felt like home anymore.

The stark high desert pass was dotted with too few conifers to allow for adequate coverage against Starling light. Though the all’ights helped the soldiers and horses with the nighttime travel, the search for daily shelter was taking its toll. If they kept this pace, their collective exhaustion would amplify their vulnerability when they reached Lua .

A horse stumbled in the darkness ahead, recovering with a soft neigh.

As if anticipating his train of thought, Jayna said, “We should rest soon.”

“There’s an old monastery ahead. We can shelter and try to find the thread before we get to the border,” Xiang said.

She nodded. “Are you from this area?”

“No. Closer to the Starling border. I fought at Oxton during the...” He’d said too much. “Until they consigned me back north.”

For Jayna, the last invasion would be an intangible memory. For Xiang it was the end of one life and the beginning of another. He’d been ambitious once too, set on saving his tribe. He couldn’t reconcile that youth with the bitter man he’d become. He was proof that love and desperation could make terrible things of anyone.

“The Song monks said the Western mages and their dragons had grown too dangerous, and that was why the Rajav wanted them destroyed. But I’ve wondered if there were other reasons we invaded the west,” Jayna said.

Xiang pursed his lips. This wasn’t a conversation he’d willingly delve into. Sometimes he doubted the truth he knew. Every tribe lied to have their version seem most noble and ensure loyalty from the ignorant masses. “I offer no opinion on that. You’d be better served questioning your senior monks.”

Her shoulders stiffened at the dismissal, but she kept pace beside him. “I hope Galia’s all right,” she said.

“The Bulou should have returned north by now. They’ll be in Uduary soon enough.”

Jayna glanced slyly at him. “I know you aren’t a mage, but you’ve seen plenty of ten stars rise and fall. Can I ask you a question?”

He kept his eyes on the road, which turned due north at the crest of the hill. Behind them, the dawning sky was pink and gold. The light would burn her skin soon if she didn’t don her hood. “What is it?”

“What will happen to Galia and myself when I test for ten stars?”

He stifled a sigh, considering his answer. “Do you want the truth?”

She nodded.

“Let these words go no further. ”

She nodded again.

“End it with her now.” He might as well have slapped her. “Anchoring complicates love. It makes you vulnerable, easy to manipulate. And, believe me, they’ll use her against you.” He didn’t need to mention Dain or the mess that had come from his secrets. Jayna was observant enough to have her own suspicions about why the Oji’s anchor had betrayed him. Dain’s daughter was probably dead; Selene hated reminders of failure.

“But Galia is strong, smart, loyal. A perfect anchor,” Jayna said.

“True. But because you want her so much, the mage council won’t let you have her. They’ll choose someone they deem appropriate. Best-case scenario, they’ll keep her near so they can use her to manipulate you. Worst case, they’ll kill her slowly in front of you as a lesson to not consider anything or anyone more precious than your tribe. It won’t matter either way. After ten stars you won’t be able to touch her or anything with a heartbeat if you don’t want to siphon it. You know that,” Xiang said.

Jayna blanched.

He paused his horse to meet her eyes. “Nothing can have greater importance than your tribe, especially not something as mundane as a personal love.”

He nudged the horse on, and Jayna joined him a moment later.

“Is that what happened with you?” she asked. “Your devotion to the Oja, I’ve wondered if?—”

“No. Never.” He lowered his voice. “My lover has exceptional physical stamina and an unequivocal life force that makes him, unfortunately, an ideal anchor.”

Jayna swallowed nervously. “Your lover. He’s?—”

“You have my advice, do with it what you will,” Xiang said, prodding his horse down the road.

In the distance stood a series of buildings that comprised the last of the Western monasteries to fall. It had lasted fifty years longer than any of the others, reportedly protected by dragons until they vanished. Though intricate etchings in the stone peeked through the climbing pothos, the last assault had done irreparable damage. Time and weather had done worse. Two towers still stood tall against the sky, though one’s roof was collapsing. Beyond these ruins lay the remains of several villages, including Bolin’s childhood home.

Xiang hadn’t been here since his sister had pledged herself when he was a child. She’d hoped to achieve greatness, even dreamt of calling a dragon though their numbers had dwindled long before she’d been born. Seeing the monastery in which she died fighting the people he now served brought grief and doubt. His sister had died a brave Westerner, and he would die a traitor.

“We’ll camp here until tomorrow eve,” he said. With the Song moon absent this night, it would save them from being exposed when they were most vulnerable. There was a collective sigh that lightened the atmosphere. Xiang hoped they could pick up the trail again. The Oji had to be close, and it would be best for everyone if they found him on this side of the border.