Could air smell...lifeless? Not musty with the stench of decay. Just...empty, lacking vibrancy. Leaves made a dull rustle beneath Sieger’s hooves. Sieger stepped on a twig, and a sharp snap interrupted the eerie silence.
The sorcerer waited in front of his tower, arms crossed, mouth pressed into a tight line. “I told you tokill the dragon,notget killedby the dragon!” His beard twitched in rhythm with his rapid, sharp speech. “It’s exhausting keeping you alive!”
Then why bother? And try dying, that’s not a leisure activity!But Regulus kept his tongue in check as he dismounted and removed his helm. He pulled the relic out of his bag. “I did kill it, my lord. And here’s...whatever this is.”
The sorcerer snatched the hollow gold egg out of his hand. “Doesn’t matter.” He looked it over, inspecting it. Apparently satisfied, he tucked it under his arm. His lips curled downward as he looked at Regulus. “This won’t do.”
The sorcerer held out his hand. Ivy-colored light emanated from his palm toward Regulus’ abdomen. The first time Regulus saw the sorcerer flashed through his mind. Shards of green light. His men dying. Irrational dread coiled in his chest, but he shoved aside the painful memory.He isn’t attacking.The torn armor screeched and groaned as the sorcerer mended the jagged hole left by the dragon’s tail. Once done, the sorcerer turned toward the tower.
Regulus stared at the relic in the crook of the sorcerer’s arm. Two years of service, and he still had the same questions.Why do all this? What is so important? What’s he doing?
“Why are you still standing there?” The sorcerer looked over his shoulder, pausing at the door. “What do you want? A biscuit? Go away!”
“I fought a dragon.” Regulus rubbed the back of his neck. Asking was a bad idea. But... “Adragon. Nearly died, again. And I wondered—”
The sorcerer laughed; deep, coarse, and mocking. “No. You still have plenty of debt to pay off.” He smiled, a patronizing flash of white teeth. “I’m keeping track. But this piece is a good step. You’re getting close. I’ll release you as soon as we’re even.”
“Actually, my lord,” Regulus took a deep breath, “I just wondered why.”
The sorcerer’s amused smile vanished. “Slaves don’t know their master’s business. You don’t need to know what it’s for to retrieve it, any more than a dog needs to know anatomy to chew on a bone.”
Regulus’ jaw tightened. He turned back to Sieger.
“Hargreaves.”
He closed his eyes, then faced the sorcerer again. “Yes, my lord?”
“I don’t like intrusive questions.”
Anger and trepidation squeezed his chest. It wasn’t fair. A question didn’t demand an answer. A question wasn’t dangerous. But he knew better. He bowed his head and braced for the pain. “I apologize, my lord.”
The sorcerer tapped his forefinger against the relic. “Are you forgetting your place?”
“No, my lord. I apologize. I had no right to ask.” He stared at the ground, outrage battling against fear the sorcerer’s anger wouldn’t be satisfied with hurting him. “Forgive me.”
“I think your title has gone to your head. I was planning on a mercenary, not a lord.”
Regulus gulped, unsure how to respond. Safest to say nothing. The pain would come. The sorcerer would let him go. He just needed to avoid angering the sorcerer into taking control of his body.I can’t hurt my friends again.
“Do you need reminded how powerless you are?”
“No, my lord.” Desperate, he knelt and bowed his head. He would suffer any humiliation to spare his men. “You are the Prince of Shadow and Ash. I am...nothing.” Silently, he prayed to Etiros for mercy. Mercy for his friends. “I won’t question you again, my lord.”
The sorcerer was quiet. Regulus tapped his toes inside his boot, panic rising as he cursed his own stupidity. He bowed until his hot forehead touched cool earth.Please. Please.
“You’ve irritated me, Hargreaves. Between taking all my energy to keep you from dying, asking impertinent questions, and wasting my time, I’m feeling the need to hurt someone. Choose.”
Regulus raised his head, the blood draining from his face. “My lord?”
“You, or one of your friends. Choose.”
He didn’t hesitate as relief flooded him. “Me.”
“Predictable and boring. Suit yourself.”
Searing heat and the sensation of thousands of tiny cuts raced up Regulus’ right arm from the mark and spread over his chest before covering his whole body. He bit back a cry. The pain intensified, and a strangled scream caught in his throat. He fell forward on his hands, his arms shaking. He dug his fingers into the blackened dirt as darkness pressed in on the edges of his vision. The pain pushed deeper, through his bones and organs, beyond bearing. His scream scraped his throat raw. The pain faded back toward his mark and stopped. Sweat rolled down his face, and he hung his head, his body still trembling.
“Next time,” the sorcerer said as he headed into the tower, “you won’t get to choose.”