Page 49 of The Malice of Moons and Mages (The Broken Bonds of Magic #1)

Forty-Nine

Xiang

X iang slipped into the tent in a rare moment of opportunity. Jayna sat beside the fire, answering the Starling’s incessant questions with half-truths. Traq asked about anchoring while the others listened aptly. Anchoring wasn’t taught to the southerners, so, naturally, they were fascinated. As Jayna spoke, Wren listened quietly, biting her lip as if she had her own opinions on the matter.

He clutched the small mirror that had gone unused for days. It had been too long since he’d contacted Bolin and, though they grew closer to the monastery, Xiang struggled with a solid plan. The Starlings kept close watch on him and Jayna. Understandable. If their situation were reversed, he would have done the same.

No. He would have dismembered their bodies and dumped them in shallow graves long ago. It was a fundamental difference in perspective. Mercy would be their downfall after Lua was defeated. Theirs would be a welcome sacrifice, and Xiang would not sorrow at the loss.

He propped the mirror on the floor and took out a small, dull knife he’d managed to hide during a meal. He closed his eyes and chanted the short mantra while drawing the blade across the back of his forearm. It took five attempts before an adequate amount of blood surfaced and the mirror’s image rippled.

At first, the view on the other side was only an empty chair with a blank canvas wall behind it—a tent. They were travelling.

Bolin slid into view with a relieved smile. There were tears in his eyes as they use practiced gestures and pantomimes to communicate. Selene’s angular face peered behind him, quickly taking in his environment. Xiang told them what he could, hating how Bolin worried since there was nothing to be done about it.

Selene wanted to know how far from the monastery they were.

He held up two fingers.

She made a gesture that was commonly rude toward the Starlings, then held her hands wide and counted fingers. How many are with you?

Xiang showed the three mages and ticked off the number of soldiers. Her expression was grim. She rested a placating hand on Bolin’s shoulder. Selene managed to indicate a higher-ranking mage, maybe a council member, but the purpose of the mention was unclear. After a round of reassurances to Bolin, his wound clotted, and the image faded. His own haggard face stared back at him.

He stuffed the mirror into his interior pocket and pulled down his sleeve. If Selene went to the monastery, Bolin would be in jeopardy when she confronted Lua. Her actions were a direct result of Xiang’s failure to capture the Oji.

Laughter trickled from the fire outside, but their humor was lost on him. They’d asked him to join them, but he wouldn’t waste time on those who didn’t know they were about to die. Despite his promises of retribution and cooperation, Selene wouldn’t render mercy unless there were advantages to be gained.

He wondered how Audra fared with Lua. If the monks demanded them separated, the way Lua had swept in at the ruins made Xiang think they’d have a difficult time. Whatever was happening with the Oji and his anchor made him unpredictable and elevated the risks before them.

Whether Selene or Lua was stronger had long been a source of quiet debates for many years. He held more stars, but she was more conniving. That their anchors were siblings would only come into play if Bolin recognized his sister, and that was unlikely given he’d not seen her since she was a child. Xiang wouldn’t tell him. Knowing Bolin, it would only confuse his sense of self-preservation. If Xiang could save Audra for Bolin’s sake, he would. But he’d willingly sacrifice her if it came to it. If she wore the bloodstone, there was a chance she could survive, but nothing was guaranteed.

Xiang closed his eyes at another round of laughter. He curled on his side, pulling a blanket over his head. He hoped to dream of Bolin’s soft lips and tender touch, but his nightmares were filled with the bloodied faces of those he’d killed.