Page 28 of The Malice of Moons and Mages (The Broken Bonds of Magic #1)

Twenty-Eight

Audra

M oon didn’t protest when Zin casually dismissed him to sleep in the smaller barn. Audra suspected he’d been glad to escape the house. Given the abrupt change in his manners since they arrived, she thought he finally understood what her veiled warnings had been about. Every tale written about dragons referenced their gruff manners and lethal protective natures, and Zin was a perfect example of those characteristics. Audra couldn’t help wondering if Ferin would become that surly when the spell over him finally broke.

Although Moon hadn’t cast in days and didn’t pull on Audra too often, fatigue wormed behind his eyes. He was perturbed by something she’d been unable to discern yet, but she felt it growing. This thing between them had started to move both ways. His emotions, repressed as they were, slithered down their connection and left her confused.

Against her better judgement, she’d almost begun to like him. Almost. There were layers to him she’d never accounted for.

When the door closed behind him, Audra steeled herself for the wrath that seethed behind Zin’s clipped manners. Ferin’s snores pulsed through the house .

“Did you think you could hide that he was a Moon mage? From me ?” Zin demanded.

Audra slunk in her seat at the table, trying to disappear.

“Were you going to tell me?”

Audra caught the insulted glint in Zin’s eye and stifled a curse. “Honestly, probably not . I knew you’d be upset.”

Zin chuckled darkly. Her magic wavered, red scales glimmered and vanished along her arms. “Oh girl, you cannot fathom the rage that seethes in this heart for that man’s tribe.” Her talons drummed on the table. “And the bonding? What of that?”

Audra had the good sense to look guilty. Not that she had anything to be guilty about. If it hadn’t been for the jade, she wouldn’t have been on the Requin at all.

She slipped the cord from around her neck. She should have placed it on Ferin as soon as they arrived. The green stone caught the firelight as she laid it on the table.

Zin picked it up and turned it over, her expression momentarily wistful. “What’s his real name?”

When she shook her head, Zin’s exhalation seared the air.

“The Moons are hunting him,” Audra said. “That’s how we wound up on the same ship.”

Zin’s glowing eyes focused on Audra. The dragon turned as still as a snake fixated on a meal. It was intentionally unnerving. Audra hated it when she did this.

“And you don’t know who he is? I raised you better than that.” There was doubt in Zin’s eyes. Her fingers drummed on. “He reminds me of someone I once knew. Someone terrible.” She quieted for a moment. “What about the bond?”

“He said the monks at the Silence monastery could separate us.”

“He’s lying. He’s only thirteen stars.”

“Only? I’ve never heard of?—”

“You won’t survive it.”

Audra gaped. “What?”

“You’ll both die if the monks attempt to sever the bond. They know nothing of western magic.” Her voice hitched; the hints of anger replaced by concern. She leaned forward and gripped Audra’s hand .

“Would he lie?” Audra whispered. The words were ridiculous out loud. Of course he would. When had she begun to trust him and forgot about the horrendous things he must have done to warrant being hunted by his own awful people? He’d even said as much. But their bond had deepened, the resentment between them diminished. He’d softened toward her. And their lives depended on each other.

“Rather ask, why would he not lie? The Moons have never survived on kindness,” Zin said. “Do you remember what I told you?”

The words were a bitter sting on her tongue. “Never trust a Moon or Starling mage.”

“Especially if they think they have the upper hand.”

“What should I do?”

“Remember the scrolls in the monastery’s vault?” Zin asked. Audra nodded. “The Western mages could break bonds. Your mother did it. There might be something in there.”

“But I’m not even a single star. I still get nothing.”

“Stars don’t matter. That’s the Moon and Starling system. Don’t let those labels limit your perception of who you are or what you’re capable of. It’s a trap that too many fall into. If your mother were here, she’d tell you.” Zin’s eyes shone. “She never had stars, and she was one of the strongest mages I’ve ever known. A pity she didn’t teach you or your brother more.”

Audra bit her lip. They’d never gotten official notice of her older brother’s or father’s deaths, but, in war, sometimes the only way you knew someone wasn’t coming home was when they didn’t. She barely remembered their faces anymore.

“Get to the monastery before he wakes. You remember where the vault is?”

Audra nodded. When the Moons felled one tower, the Western mages knocked over another to keep the vault hidden. She’d only ventured there once before when she was barely a teenager and Zin sent her searching for jade. Down in the narrow tunnels and small vault, a noise had frightened her, and she’d abandoned her only all’ight to flee. She’d met Traq, alone and starving, on the way home. How he’d survived all that time in the forests, she never knew .

“Bring back all the scrolls you can carry. Surely there’s something in them.”

“Won’t the bond limit how far I can go?”

Zin arched an eyebrow. “Probably not as much as he lets you think. The distance might cause discomfort, but how else can you discover its limitations? I’ll handle the Moon until you get back.”

Audra contemplated the jade beneath Zin’s hand. “It’s not a spell breaker, is it?”

“No. It’s a catalyst for dormant magic, Western and dragon specifically. In Ferin’s case, I hope it lets him be what he was meant to be. And, theoretically, as he grows, you’ll become what you were meant to be.”

“Will it work?”

Zin turned the jade over in her fingers, emotion heavy on her face. “If Raia is generous, it will. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you before dawn.”