Page 59 of The Malice of Moons and Mages (The Broken Bonds of Magic #1)
Fifty-Nine
Selene
T he blizzard stalked Selene and her Songs over the narrow mountain passes and across the icy flatlands. Six horses had fallen over the previous three days, and two soldiers had died in their sleep, their lips blue in the pale starling light, fingers frozen shut. A few soldiers grumbled at not performing proper funerals, but there was no time.
Bolin tried reassuring them that leaving the bodies for the animals was the right thing to do. A good death meant contributing to the continuation of life around them. His Western beliefs did little to appease most of them, but a few had nodded politely, pretending to understand.
The moons were nearing their conjunction when they finally rode past the empty tents and village outside the Silence monastery. The combined illumination made those last few miles easier on the soldiers. Despite the frigid temperatures, Selene pulled back her hood to absorb as much Song light as she could. She prayed like she always did, but the stubborn moon refused to acknowledge her .
Bolin had been solemn since Xiang’s last message. Selene wished he’d looked more surprised when the general revealed the vials of liger’s bane. She wondered how long Xiang had been planning her death. She’d keep a tighter grip on he and Bolin moving forward.
A thick crowd of commoners gathered around the main gates, trying vainly to gain entry for the coronation. The people parted when Song soldiers ordered them to give way with the points of their sword. There was no need to announce her. By the nervous looks of the guards, and the two Silent mages, seven and nine stars, that blocked the entrance, they’d been expecting her. She slid from her horse and approached the main gate. Bolin blended in with the soldiers behind her, but his anticipation bled into her.
The nine star mage was a large, middle-aged woman with a steady confidence that probably intimidated anyone other than Selene. The seven star was a thin man with boyish features who nervously licked his lips and gave a slight bow.
“Open the gate.” Selene said.
“Apologies, Oja. Under orders of both the Oji and Master Fallue, no one is allowed entrance until after the eclipses,” the woman said. Fear hinted in her voice. The man was still as a rabbit.
“Stand aside. I won’t say it again,” Selene’s patience had thinned over the days of travel. Posting these weaker mages here was an intentional insult. The shifting shadows of a squadron beyond the gates caught her eye. Her hopes of lessening the casualties were dwindling.
The woman bowed again, deferentially. “I cannot do that, Oja. I beg your forgiv?—”
Silver lashed from a third mage hidden atop the wall. It sliced Bolin’s cheek as he jerked sideways. The magic skidded across his scaled armor, careening into a neighboring throat. The soldier fell, gurgling on steaming blood. A shout from above sent a volley of arrows arcing toward the Songs.
Blood dripped down Selene’s jaw. With a furious scream, her magic spun toward the nine star. The woman conjured a shield, but it shattered beneath Selene’s attack.
Another lash from above cut down two soldiers beside Bolin. Whistling arrows lodged into shoulders and eyes before shields could be raised.
Two Song mages wove a wind spell that sent the next wave of arrows spiraling into the crowd of innocent onlookers. People screamed and scattered; four fell to the ground.
With a tug on Bolin, Selene’s cheek stitched together. She rushed forward as her shield absorbed another whip from above. The nine star stumbled back. The seven star man leaped between them, trying to catch the Oja.
Selene spun away, but the nine star’s thread encircled her ankle and threw her off balance.
The seven star’s thread aimed for her throat. But it fizzled, faltered. The spell died in a scream as the mage’s hand tumbled to the ground. Blood spurted from his wrist as Bolin’s blade drew back and pierced the man’s chest.
Selene’s magic captured the tether around her ankle, encircling the thread and yanking the nine star toward her. Bolin lunged forward, cleaving halfway through the woman’s torso as she screamed.
The remaining mage targeted them again, but Selene was faster. Her spell dragged the mage from the wall toward her. Her hand caught his face, magic consuming him, then dropped him in a pile of dust and robes.
Selene pulled on Bolin. The next blast hurled a dozen Silence bodies from the wall. Bolin’s small wounds healed. His cheeks flushed, and pupils dilated. A smile twisted his lips. The thrill of a fight surged between them.
Song soldiers rallied behind them as Selene pressed the gates open.
S elene, Bolin, and five soldiers moved stealthily down the winding passageways. Her forces would head for the ceremonial hall when they were done outside. She’d ordered them to kill anyone who stood against them, no matter what tribe they claimed loyalty to.
Anchors rarely shared the same meals with their mages outside of their homes. That way if one were poisoned the other could give their companion enough energy to sustain themselves. However, if they survived, any poisoning would weaken both parties for a time. It wouldn’t take much of the liger’s bane to diminish them. If Xiang had managed to poison the anchors’ wine the results would be in full effect during the peak of the eclipse. But in case that plan failed, Selene would visit Master Fallue’s anchor, Emaline, first. The death of the Mage Council and Silence monastery’s leader would create chaos that could be advantageous.
And considering how vocal Emaline’s animosity toward Selene had always been, how she’d spread rumors about the Oja, that decision was easy to make.
Emaline had once been a renowned fighter with a keen mind, but the anchoring had taken its toll. The woman was weak and blind, not that Selene was prone to pity.
A terrified servant had quickly given up Emaline’s location. Selene siphoned the two guards stationed outside while Bolin knocked loudly on the thick wooden door. The Oja wiped the dust from her hands.
“What does everyone want?” Emaline’s throaty yell cracked with annoyance. Another voice tried to calm her.
Bolin opened the door slowly. “Beg your pardon, Mirzas. Would one of you fine ladies be Emaline?”
Selene shoved past him, slamming the door against the wall. “Quit playing games, Bolin. We’re on a schedule.” She entered the room in a flurry of ebony robes, eyes glittering with stolen life.
A familiar woman sat beside Emaline on a small couch and held a cup of wine near the woman’s lips. The hint of magic that wafted from the young woman was sickly, mostly spent, barely even a star. A plate of soft foods and assorted cutlery was scattered on the table before them. The mage paled at seeing Selene and placed the cup on the table.
“Emaline, it’s been too long. Unfortunate that I’ll miss seeing Fallue, but it’s you I’m looking for,” Selene said.
Emaline’s milky eyes narrowed. “Who is this?”
The younger woman shifted nervously and whispered, “It’s our Oja, ma’am.”
The older woman cackled and shook her head, graying hair dancing across her face. “Not my Oja. I don’t have a damned Oja. She should have been smothered in her crib as the Rajav wanted. ”
Selene’s smile didn’t waver, but her eyes flicked to the mage. “Aren’t you one of Xiang’s?”
“Jayna, Oja.”
“Of course. Best to move out of the way, dear.”
The edge of Jayna’s tunic twisted desperately in Emaline’s gnarled fingers. “You’d let them kill your senior mage? Weren’t you mentored in the house of Silence?”
Gently, Jayna undid the old woman’s fingers before backing away. She shook her head. “That was a long time ago. I can’t help you.”
Selene stepped forward. Bolin sauntered behind like a shadow waiting to breathe. Emaline flinched as the light shifted across her eyes.
“Have you spread any more rumors lately, Emaline?” Selene asked.
“Not rumors. Facts.”
“And what facts are those?”
“The Rajav never wanted you close to the throne. Every time he sent you to war with an incompetent anchor, he hoped you wouldn’t return,” Emaline said. “He knew you were damaged from the moment you drew your first breath.”
Selene’s laugh was high and light. “Thank Song for Amala then. But no, I’m talking about the more recent rumors surrounding my poor father’s death.”
“Ha! Your poor father . Those words should make your wicked mouth bleed.” Emaline spat.
An insincere frown marred Selene’s delicate features. “You know, I can make this hurt. Draw it out so the whole assembly witnesses Fallue wither and suffer. Hacked to pieces slowly while knowing his beloved anchor suffers the same fate. Or we could just wait for the poison to work, right, Jayna?”
Emaline froze as understanding took hold. A moment later, her fingers found the glass of wine. Slowly, she brought it to her lips and took a small sip. She resettled it on the table and snorted. “Special vintage, my ass.”
Metal glinted in Emaline’s fist, a small dagger slashed toward Selene. Bolin yanked the Oja backward. His sword whispered through the air. Emaline’s head landed at Jayna’s feet while her body crumpled to the ground .
Selene sighed with disappointment. “Too soon, love. I could have used her energy.”
“She attacked you,” Bolin replied. “You said we were on a schedule.”
Selene stared at the old woman’s face wistfully. “So we are.” She glanced back, sharp eyes laying Jayna bare. “Come along, dear. You’re in too deep to go anywhere else.”