Page 2 of Madness of Her Mages

He cast furtive glances over his shoulders, then spoke on a hiss. “I know you don’t want me to involve Thorin, but he would help if he knew Flora was ill.”

I flinched at the mention of his younger brother. I’d never liked Thorin. He reminded me too much of Djall, and not just because of his oily smile and saccharine words, but I didn’t likethe way he obsessed over Flora. He gave me a queasy feeling whenever he was near, and I always felt the need to shield my sister from his penetrating stare.

“What is he willing to do?” I finally asked, poison dripping into my veins at the mention of his name.

“He will change my uncle’s memories,” he said while chewing on his bottom lip, “just for a few hours.”

My heart skipped a beat as magic pooled in my fingertips. Was involving Thorin worth the risk? “I only need a few hours.”

He arched a bushy, dark brow. “Then should I ask him?”

There was a dull edge in his voice that gave me pause. “What will he ask in return?”

Selig averted his gaze, but not before I saw the wariness in his eyes. “For you to allow him back at court.”

“So he can try to manipulate us again,” I spat.

“He says he’s learned his lesson.” Selig turned his gaze back toward me, though he couldn’t hold it for more than a few heartbeats.

“My grandmother’s court is terrified of him.” Thorin’s mind-changing magic was the reason the women at court wore black veils and the men shielded their eyes with their wings. Good thing Thorin’s spells only lasted a few hours. I couldn’t imagine the chaos he’d create if he could alter our minds for days or longer.

“Your grandmother is dead, as is most of her court,” Selig admonished, no hint of sympathy in his voice. “If you wish to save your sister now, he’s our only chance.”

I heaved a frustrated breath. He was right, damn him. “Very well, but if he tries to alter any of our memories, he’s back out.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” He clasped his hands in a prayer pose. “I promise my brother will be on his best behavior.”

I snorted at that. I doubted Thorin’s ‘best’ behavior would last long, though I didn’t have a choice but to rely on him.

“Go. Tell him to make haste,” I said, shooing Selig away like he was a stray mongrel. “We don’t have a moment to spare.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” He bowed and quickly disappeared into the keep’s shadows.

I blew out a shaky breath, fearing I’d damned what was left of my grandmother’s court by allowing that sneaky mage to return. Oh, the chaos he could create.

I looked down at the hole in the ground that had become the bane of my existence. My veins solidified with dread at the thought of returning to the sewer. But I couldn’t forsake Flora now. I sucked in one more breath of crisp, fresh air before climbing back into the abyss.

Following the sounds of my sister’s phlegmy cough, I moved through the sludge with purpose in my stride, ignoring that foreboding feeling that I was making a terrible mistake by involving Thorin. I crawled through the tunnel toward Flora, no longer caring about the pain in my knees.

Once I reached her, I clasped her face in my hands, alarmed at the heat radiating off her skin. She needed a healer tonight. “Sister,” I pleaded, desperately searching her foggy eyes. “I need you to change me back.”

“No.” Tears welled in her eyes. “The bad mage will kill you.”

“I won’t let him. I promise.” I took her hands in mine, my voice breaking on a plea. “Change me back, dearest, so I can avenge our family, and you will never be forced to live in squalor again.”

A LONE SERVANT GASPEDas I strode through the hall, my head held high. She backed away, clutching her blood-soaked sponge while looking at me as if I was a phantom resurrected from the grave. I swallowed my fear, staring straight ahead whenI noticed the dried blood that painted the walls. The blood was everywhere, as if the castle itself had bathed in it. The blood of my family. The blood of my friends. Burning magic coursed through my veins.

I will kill him for what he’s done.

I followed the sound of music, passing the bedraggled musicians outside my grandmother’s bedchamber, their heads bent too far forward while they plucked at their instruments with blistered fingers. They didn’t bother to look at me. In fact, other than that one servant, everyone else had kept their heads down. It was how I was able to easily move about the castle without being noticed. The dark mage had made them terrified to make eye contact with anyone.

I pushed open the door to my grandmother’s bedchamber, immediately struck by the overwhelming stench of piss and vomit, not much better than the smells of the sewer. My heart sank at the condition of my grandmother’s things as I passed from her sitting room into her bedchamber. Chairs were overturned and shattered, cushions ripped open, and drapes were shredded. The carpets were littered with feathers, food crumbs, and broken glass.

The bed was in shambles, the frame broken, the mattress in pieces. It took all my effort not to lash out at Djall when I found him sprawled across the furs by the hearth with two sleeping, nude women. I didn’t recognize them, though their cloying perfume permeated the air, smacking my senses like an iron to the head. No doubt they’d come from one of Thebe’s brothels. Djall wasn’t focused on me as he tried to no avail to wake one of the sleeping women while slapping her chin with his shriveled, flaccid member.

Magic crackled in my palms, and I eyed him curiously as I cautiously approached. Though he had wings like all full-blooded Ravini males, his skin had always been a sickly wanshade, reminding me of a corpse, a result of spending too much time indoors. His pale eyes always had dark circles framing them, no doubt an effect of his love for liquor and smoke. Though he was about the same age as my mother, he looked far older, his eyes already wrinkling, his face pruning, his scraggly beard an ashen gray. If it hadn’t been for the herbals my grandmother’s green witch made him, he would’ve probably succumbed to the poison he was always imbibing. Too bad she hadn’t let him die. Too bad none of my grandmother’s other mages had the foresight to see his betrayal coming.

Sparks crackled in my palms as I watched him shake his lover’s shoulder. Though I was tempted to strike while he was preoccupied, I didn’t want to risk him turning his magic on me, for I knew I wasn’t strong enough to take him face-to-face. I’d have to get him when his back was turned. But how? I fought the urge to flee when he turned from his whore and stared straight at me. Would he recognize me? No, he had that glazed look in his eyes, the same look I recognized whenever Thorin had spun the mind of one of his victims.

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