Page 48 of The Malice of Moons and Mages (The Broken Bonds of Magic #1)

Forty-Eight

Audra

A udra tried the handle for the tenth time, but it remained stubbornly locked. The shadows beneath the door shifted when she cursed and kicked it. The two men guarding her didn’t respond. In fact, beyond a servant delivering a tray of food, she’d been ignored.

It was strange. Audra was usually comfortable being on her own. Not that she’d ever really been alone, but these weeks tethered to Lua had made solitude unfamiliar. She could see their green and silver connections when she closed her eyes.

Kindling waited to burn in the fireplace, but there were no matches to strike it and her all’ight was too weak. She poked the braised, undercooked lamb and frowned. The food was bland. Even the seasoned vegetables and dense flat bread were nearly tasteless without the warming herbs of Western fair.

Slanting evening light entered through a small arched window and provided a view of the surrounding landscape. Past the dull, patched roofs of the small village that surrounded the monastery, snow-carpeted fields spanned as far as she could see .

She fumbled through the scrolls but was too distracted. When the script eluded her, she shoved them back in the bag. She supposed she should have been grateful that Lua had insisted they leave her and her things untouched.

Being cold and bored wasn’t anything new. Stealing took patience, and conditions like these were expected occasionally. But being locked in was nothing she’d ever grown accustomed to. Despite Lua’s fondness for this drab place, she wasn’t impressed. The monastery wasn’t the gleaming symbol of dark power she’d expected. Though it was tidy, the place was worn and run down, the air stale, as if its time had long passed and no one dared to mention it.

The Moons had fawned over their Oji, bowed respectfully, and cast their eyes away from him before ogling her with unnerving curiosity. But once the monastery doors closed behind them, the soldiers practically carried her up to this room. Hours had passed, and Audra was trying not to doubt Lua’s reassurances. That she’d not been interrogated yet was probably the result of his protection.

She closed her eyes. The thread was as it had been, green and silver entangled with knots. She reached out, searching for something of him, and found annoyance, frustration. Whatever he was dealing with, he was nearly as unhappy as she was. That brought her some measure of warped satisfaction. She would have been angrier if he’d been content. Which made her wonder if, in fact, her annoyance was her own or a result of his. It was difficult to tell where she ended and he began.

The window shook beneath a frigid wind that wafted into the room. She shivered and pulled her robe tighter. A decent host would have lit the fire, but the Moon tribes were especially harsh to foreigners. How had Bolin survived all these years here?

She held the bloodstone up in the fading light. It was unimpressive when compared to the precious stones she’d stolen. Even broken, the jade was always warm with life, but this remained cold no matter how long she held it.

Another gust hit the window. Her teeth chattered as she shoved the stone into her pocket. Lua made her practice lighting fires more than once, but she’d struggled to complete it. Every spell she’d created so far had been born of a strong immediate desire. Or instinctive, like Arn or during the fight. The image of blood spraying across the ground waited for Audra every time she closed her eyes.

She rubbed her hands together and stared at the wood waiting to be burned.

Audra wasn’t sure she could manage a spell on her own. Maybe Lua’s magic acted as a catalyst to hers. She didn’t have any training. All she had was a bit of green thread as temperamental as her emotions.

And excuses. She seemed to have plenty of those lately. Zin would say there was no point in complaining if you weren’t willing to try. Lua had said nearly the same.

She allowed the frustration to coil inside her, hating the dreary room. Cursing the cold that slithered beneath her robes and into her boots. Damning the mages and soldiers that locked her in. Hating?—

Green energy leaped from her hand, and the kindling burst into flames. A log popped, sending chunks of smoldering wood onto the threadbare rug. It smoked and glowered, eating away at the aged fabric before Audra doused it with the pitcher of water.

The fire popped again, sending a wave of warmth onto her cheeks as she stared at the burned rug. Maybe no one would notice. Or they’d start a fire for their guests from now on.

The door opened sometime later, waking Audra from near sleep on the hard couch. She wiped her mouth as Quin, one of the men who’d greeted them on the fields, entered. He was stocky and might have been attractive if he could wipe the hate from his face. He examined Audra with disgust, as if she were shit he’d accidentally stepped in and hadn’t figured out how to scrape off his shoe yet. But she suspected he was working on it.

“Come with me,” he said.

Audra rubbed her eyes. She wanted out of this room, but she didn’t mind watching him squirm. “Why?”

His contempt deepened. “Master Fallue has summoned you.”

“He’s not my master. Where’s Lua?”

Quin flinched. No one used Lua’s name so casually, she’d noticed.

“Our Oji waits with Master Fallue.”

The irritation in his voice made her move slower. She stood and stretched before nodding casually to the floor.

His eyes darted between the burned carpet and her face. “What did you do? That was original to this wing. How... No, why?—”

“There weren’t any matches.” She shrugged, tugging her robe around her shoulders. “You could have started it before leaving me to freeze to death. What did you think would happen?”

He seethed. “It’s unfortunate that suffering in silence is apparently not in your nature.”

Audra’s laugh made his jaw clench. She grabbed her bag and followed him out the door. They walked down twisting, stone corridors to a set of stairs that curved around a massive foyer and plunged down a hundred feet into the center of the building. Quin nodded to passing soldiers as they descended.

At the main level, his pace quickened down another hall, forcing Audra behind him until they reached a pair of plain oak doors. He knocked once before leading her inside.

The elderly Master Fallue was gaunt and pale. He sat at the end of a large table, his wispy beard trailed down his black-robed chest, rustling slightly with each breath. His silver hair was tied in a formal topknot. Lua sat beside him, donned in his worn black robes, hair half down. Her chest tightened at his smile. Desire pulled her a few feet forward before she stopped and tried to remember her anger.

“Audra?” Fallue asked, forgoing any formalities. “What is your surname?”

“Shan.”

Fallue’s tone was low. “A terribly common Western name.”

She bristled though Lua still smiled, like he hadn’t heard the intended insult. “There’s nothing wrong with being common,” she said.

The old man studied her with a frown. “How are the accommodations, Audra Shan?”

“Drafty.”

Quin cleared his throat. “There was an incident, Master.”

Fallue’s white eyebrows rose like caterpillars trying to crawl off his face.

“The Westerner burned the rug that Mistress Onia wove,” Quin said it matter-of-factly, but there was a hint of satisfaction.

“Burned?” Fallue’s eyes narrowed at Audra. “Ah, well. It was quite old. Probably only took a spark to ignite. Have it taken to the weavers. Perhaps they can mend it.”

Quin’s cheeks flushed. “Yes, master.”

“Leave us, Quin. I’ll send for you if you are needed.”

The soldier gave a small bow and threw a venomous look at Audra before he left. Lua motioned toward a chair beside him, pulling it out as she approached.

“The Oji and I were having a debate,” Fallue said. “It would seem that he won.”

The chair lacked padding, confirming to Audra that the Moon tribes loved their misery. “Is that why I’ve been locked in that damn room for hours?”

“Audra, don’t be rude,” Lua said.

Fallue pursed his lips. “It is. He wanted to prove that your magic could start a fire. We kept waiting for word from the guards.”

Lua looked almost guilty as Audra spoke. “Matches would have been simpler, and you wouldn’t be short a rug.”

“You managed it, didn’t you? I knew you could,” Lua said quietly.

“A one star could do that.” Fallue shook his head. “And look how long it took her.”

“Western magic isn’t like ours. There are no stars with?—”

“We still don’t know for sure that she is a Western mage and, if she is, how do you think that will be received?” Fallue’s voice urged caution. “Did you see Quin or the others? After everything they’ve done for you, you come home anchored to a foreigner. How does that make you any different from the Oja?”

Audra shifted uncomfortably. Every retort she considered died before it left her lips. Maybe she should ask to be locked back in that room. It was probably warmer than where she was now.

Lua’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t see what she did when the Songs attacked us. Or how she stopped an accidental siphon. It’s new to her. She doesn’t have control yet.”

“Better to sever her now before she gets control.”

“I trust her.” Lua’s voice rose above Fallue’s. The old man quieted, eyes narrowing as Lua gripped Audra’s hand and stood. “You don’t know her yet. ”

“Wait,” Fallue said. He rose gingerly, bracing himself against the table. “Don’t be like this.”

“I am about to be made Rajav, and you would still deny me what I want. How much longer did you think you could control me with my anchors?”

Fallue’s mouth snapped shut. “I’ve only tried to protect you.”

“By catering to my father. But he’s dead now.” Lua pulled a little on their thread before continuing, “You want to protect me? Then teach her. In that way, you can help us both.”

Lua tugged her through the door. Two guards hastened ahead of them, down the hall and up the winding staircase to the third floor. The Oji didn’t acknowledge those who bowed as they passed, and Audra didn’t look at anyone. The gasps as they saw her hand in his were more than enough attention.

The guards opened a set of arched doors and swiftly closed them behind the couple without a word. The room was bigger than Zin’s cabin. A fire danced in the large hearth, and steam rose from a copper bathtub where sprigs of lavender floated atop the water. The largest bed Audra had ever seen sat against the farthest wall. Its black oak frame was draped with ebony curtains.

Lua gripped Audra’s hand and drew her close. They were alone, and they were finally safe. Her feelings might be muddled, but she knew what she wanted in that moment.

Despite his shell of arrogance and entitlement, he’d been insecure when speaking to Fallue. Lua feared disappointing him and his people, worried about failing everything he’d been raised to value. Against all of that, he’d defended her, fought for her, and she knew he’d do it again.

“Are you all right?” she asked, brushing the hair from his face with tentative fingers. The connection sparked through them. His expression was cautious, mixed with shuddering need.

Their mouths collided in a frenzy of desperation. They stumbled backward, kicking off boots and frantically tearing at clothing until their naked legs met the bed. The overwhelming arousal of his flesh against hers consumed her.

He paused, panting, and cupped her cheeks. “Are you sure?”

Audra shoved him down onto the soft mattress and straddled his hips, feeling his desire beneath her. She leaned over him, inhaling the scents of road and lust, cloves and night, and stared into his pale eyes. She considered her usual flippant responses, thought about telling him to shut up again, but that wouldn’t do. Not now. She could speak truth, and he wouldn’t leave.

“There’s nothing I want more.”

Audra savored his mouth, kissing his neck and chest as his fingers worked through her hair. He groaned, rising, and flipping her onto her back. She opened to him, biting his lip as they became one.

The silk curtains reflected green and silver as their magic entwined. It rose and fell in undulating waves, dissolving before rising again until it exploded with dazzling brilliance, causing the sturdy bed frame to shift against the wall.

She lay in Lua’s protective embrace, a sheen of sweat glowing upon her skin. His eyes were closed, breath deep and satisfied. Audra traced the lines that crisscrossed his chest. She counted them, remembering the marks she’d seen on his back on the Requin and those on his legs from the road. So many scars.

“Where did they all come from?” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Your scars.”

His body tensed slightly but he kissed the top of her head. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters before you.”

Her chin rested on his chest. “I want to know your pain.”

Silver eyes slitted open. “In time, I’ll tell you everything if you want, but for now, I only want my thoughts to be here with you.”

She smiled dreamily; a euphoric, nearly drunken emotion warped her senses. That feeling that she might dissolve into him nagged at the edges of her awareness until she remembered what Lua had said to Fallue.

“You said that you were about to be made Rajav.”

His jaw tightened. “The coronation is in five days, during the dual lunar eclipses.”

“Coronation?” She pulled away from him. The impact of Fallue’s words hit her. The Rajav was dead, of course Lua would be the Moon tribes Rajav. “Even though you killed...” Her words trailed off; they’d not spoken of it. Bitterness swarmed toward her at the mention of his father.

Lua rose onto one elbow, frowning. His voice was barely a whisper. “Audra, I didn’t kill my father.”

“But—”

“Selene and I...” He bit his lip, trapping truth inside him for a breath. “I just made him easier to kill. Selene did the rest.”

Audra stared at him, understanding what he could not say. “You killed his anchor.”

Sorrow and shame swept over her. His silver eyes turned glassy as he looked down. He’d cut people down without flinching, spoke of killing Dain with less emotion than he showed now.

Something warned her to let it settle, but the strength of his emotions coaxed her tongue. “Who was the last Raani, Lua?”

Lua’s throat bobbed and it took him a long moment to respond. “My mother.”

Audra’s vision blurred, tears slipping from her eyes. Lua turned his attention to her shaking breath and wiped his thumb across her cheek. A hundred questions cluttered her mind while gnawing distrust encroached on the bliss they’d shared only a moment before.

“My mother was the kindest person I’ve ever known,” he started.

“But you killed her,” she said with a horrified breath.

He licked his lips, shaking his head. “It’s not like that. Not exactly.”

She sat up, drawing the blanket up to cover her breasts as her words turned threatening. “Then you tell me what it’s like, Lua. You tell me right fucking now.”

He reached for her, but she pulled away. “You remember what I said back in Pangol about the anchoring bond taking a lot from an anchor?”

She nodded, stealing herself.

“Amala, my mother, should have only lasted twenty to thirty years at most. Just long enough to see Selene and I out of our childhoods,” Lua said. “But she was different, her aging was slower than it should have been. When her body finally turned against her, father wouldn’t let her go. For decades, mother begged anyone who came near to kill her.” Lua’s voice was steady though immense grief held his expression.

“To say that she suffered doesn’t give the whole scope of what she endured. Her joints were warped, body too weak to leave her bed. Her anguished cries echoed down the halls for years and no matter how much we pleaded for father to release her, he refused and forced the healer to keep her alive. Whatever had allowed her to last longer than the others, had also enabled his magic to flourish. They made draughts that kept her pain at bay while also trapping her in sleep. But when her pain became too strong for him to deflect, he’d put a stone around her neck, and it would diminish the connection for a little while.” Lua cleared his throat.

“When her bones began crumbling to dust beneath her skin, the healer came to me because she feared the Rajav’s response. Selene and I agreed that helping our mother let go was the right thing to do.”

Audra was rigid, stuck between empathy and sickness. She licked her lips. “How?”

He shook his head. His voice was low and tremulous. “You know how. I held her in my arms and drew the life from her myself. The last thing she felt was the arms of someone who loved her.”

The wave of sorrow that had clung to Lua for weeks crested and crashed over them both. Audra pulled him down onto the bed and held him in her arms.

The fire in the hearth was sputtering low when new worries woke her. The fear that her fate might be the same as his mother’s weighed on her. But Lua lay beside her, studying her face with raw emotion. Trapping her here would be the same as being locked in that room upstairs. She had goals, obligations that had nothing to do with the Moon tribe. None of that changed despite her feelings for him.

“What if the same thing happens to me?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Mother had no magic, Audra. She had some Western blood, but nothing like yours.” Lua tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I won’t let anything happen to you, I swear it. You will be made Raani, a holy position.”

“Will they accept a common Westerner in that role?”

“Fallue didn’t mean that.”

“Yes, he did.”

“There is nothing common about you. You’re a mage,” Lua said.

“One star. ”

“A one star wouldn’t have been able to do what you did in Stonetown or against that mage today.”

She scooted to the edge of the bed, where his touch couldn’t distract her. “What about Zin and Ferin?”

“What about them?”

“When can I go home?” She asked.

A crease formed between his brows. He clutched her hand before she could escape, kissing her palm. His voice was soft. “Audra, you are home.”