Page 60 of The Malice of Moons and Mages (The Broken Bonds of Magic #1)

Sixty

Audra

A udra followed Lua through a cloud of incense that wafted toward the large open panels overhead. Raia’s vibrant emerald glow was muted by the brighter tones of the full moons. Silence loomed against the dark sky; its bluish hints contrasted by Song’s yellowy cast. The smaller moon inched slowly before the larger one, nearly in line.

The hundreds of people that filled the room quieted at the Oji’s entrance. Those of higher status sat at round tables near the dais, but others lurked in the perimeter as ominous faceless shapes.

Audra flushed beneath the kohl. The amount of constrained magic in the room caused her head to spin when she curiously reached out, searching for Traq. She clutched the insides of her robe as the memory of the only other time she’d been surrounded by so many people flooded her brain. Lost and alone, pressed between bodies. Trapped. That fear had never quite resolved.

Being held in small cells was bad, but this was worse than any jail she’d ever been in. As her heart ticked faster, Lua’s steps slowed. He glanced back at her. A steadying swell filled her chest, a calming reassurance that everything would be all right. That she was safe with him.

Audra followed him onto the dais where Anjing, Sharine, and the remaining council members stood before their chairs and bowed at his approach. Three chairs reserved for Song tribe council members remained empty.

The Oji stopped before the black oak throne in the middle of the stage. Its back was carved with two sickle moons interwoven, cut in opposing directions. Like most chairs she’d experienced since entering the northern territory, it looked hard and unforgiving: intended to keep its occupants miserable.

Lua flashed a knowing smile at her and motioned to a smaller chair beside his. Though still austere, a thick cushion filled its seat, embroidered with a small green dragon. The surprise of it caught in her throat. Throughout Audra’s life, her comfort had gone largely neglected due to either circumstances or by her own denial. A small, tortured part of herself believed that because she’d survived death many times while others had not, she didn’t deserve care or comfort or love.

He'd seen her discomfort, knew her facade of strength covered deeper pain, and repeatedly sought to alleviate all of it in his own way. His actions meant more than she could voice. This was what she’d imagined love was. Not grand gestures or proclamations, but small acts of consideration done only because he wanted to take care of her. And no matter who he’d been before they met, she loved Lua more than she’d realized. He winked at her, his smile warming her insides as she bit her reddened lips.

The crowd waited for the Oji to sit before doing the same. The speeches would come after the ceremony. As Fallue spoke, the all’ights dimmed, the room lit only by Raia’s glow and the dual moonslight that streamed in from above. The mixture of blue, yellow, and subtle green blended across Lua’s pale skin and ebony hair, turning him ethereal and beautiful. He glanced at Audra once, offering a small smile before he closed his eyes.

The council members stood and spread their arms, chanting prayers with their unfamiliar words. Their voices vibrated through the air.

Lua took a shuddering breath and gripped the throne’s armrests. He closed his eyes, whispering the same prayers he said each night. He gasped, chest thrusting forward at the same moment sharp pain cascaded into Audra and burned her insides cold.

The cascading light changed with Song’s transit over Silence. Raia was lost in darkness, emerald hues only visible further away from the apex. A sliver of Silence morphed from blue to dark red as the planet’s shadow spread across its surface. With every passing inch, Lua’s magic was wrenched away, like skin flayed from muscle.

Audra’s green thread spanned between them, untouched, but Lua’s silver thinned as he offered himself to the moons. She gritted her teeth as his anguish flooded through her. Fallue said Lua would be vulnerable until the eclipse passed and the moons returned his magic, but she’d not realized entirely what that meant. This was supposedly the surest way to gain the blessings of both moons and their tribes. The responsibility of the Raani was to ensure their Rajav survived the process. But she couldn’t have anticipated how painful it would be, like talons shredding through their flesh.

As the shadow crept over Song’s edges, Lua convulsed. One by one, each of his threads vanished, leaving only a single fiber between him and Audra’s green threads.

She didn’t know how long she could feel his pain and not react defensively. What little of his magic still coursed between them was raw and frail. Instinct demanded she do something, but protocol insisted otherwise. She thrummed her magic into his remaining thread and gave him what she could. Her head swam, dizziness threatened her consciousness, but she resisted. Lua needed her.

Sanguine shadows engulfed both moons and the temperature inside the room plummeted. Darkness fell, save for the sparse scattered all’ights and the amber glow that streamed from above and encapsulated the man on his throne. Lua was too still. The pain from him had vanished as quickly as it had come, as if he were suddenly empty. Or as if he did not exist. The moment stretched in agony.

Protocols be damned. Audra scrambled over the side of her chair and clutched his cold hand. Her heart beat alone. Lua wasn’t breathing. She flooded more of herself down their remaining thread, but the energy recoiled back into her. Her breath hitched on the edge of panic .

“Lua?” Her shaking voice echoed through the silent hall. Her breath a white swirl in the darkness.

A stream of bluish light struck his hand. Lua sucked in a breath, and Audra with him. The council members resumed their chanting, but their voices were strained. A sickly sheen of sweat dotted their brows. They muttered, choked. Anjing collapsed and writhed on the floor, followed rapidly by three others.

Fallue swayed on his feet, staring fixedly upward. He continued his prayers until a red line bloomed across his throat. Blood spewed from beneath his beard and cascaded down his chest. When his body crashed on the stage, his head rolled away. His lips uttered one word.

“Emaline.”

Sharine alone stood unaffected. She eyed the unconscious Lua still slumped on his throne while shocked screams rippled through the room. People stood, unsure. Guards rushed toward the dais, but Audra didn’t know if they intended protection or assault.

She climbed to her feet and stood before Lua, daring anyone to come near. Fallue insisted that Lua would wake when the eclipse passed. But the Mage Council leader was dead. His glassy eyes stared at the sky above. Somewhere in the room’s dark recesses, someone screamed her name. But a harsher voice rang out.

“Now!”