Page 104 of Staff of Nightfall

Chapter 38

Something rough pokedinto Regulus’ back as he groaned awake. He shifted. Metal clanked, aggravating his throbbing head. What was going on? Something weighed down his arms. He pried his eyes open. Pale, early morning sunlight illuminated the trees and meadow around him. The almost inaudible crash of waves sounded in the distance. The blackened bark of an oak tree pushed into his back. He recognized the dull, lifeless black of the tree and the shriveled, charcoal leaves curled on the edges of the branches. He’d ridden past the same thing on his way to the sorcerer’s tower too many times.

Carrick and the sorcerer sat on stumps on either side of a small fire several paces away, turned away from him and eating something that smelled savory and made his stomach growl. Regulus went to move his arms and found he couldn’t. He looked down.

A thick chain wrapped around his chest and the tree several times. Another chain connected to shackles around his wrists, then wrapped around his forearms before also wrapping around behind the tree. The right sleeve of his shirt had been cut off. He strained against the chains, but only succeeded in bruising his chest and making his wrists hurt. He glared at Carrick and the sorcerer, but they continued eating and paid no attention to his grunting and the clinking of the chains.

“Hey!” He tried to use his legs to push himself up, but the chains were too tight. “What am I doing here?”

They finally looked at him. Carrick’s mouth curled into an irritated snarl as he chewed, but the sorcerer just wiped his fingers on his robe, picked up the Staff of Nightfall, and stood. Carrick glared up at the sorcerer, then tossed down the last bit of meat in his hand and followed the sorcerer toward Regulus.

“You are here,” the sorcerer said, thinly veiled fury in his voice, “because of this.” He held the top end of the Staff of Nightfall in front of Regulus’ face.

At first, Regulus didn’t understand. But as he looked closer, he saw the source of the sorcerer’s rage. Two deep, jagged cracks ran through the opal mounted in the top piece. Spots of murky white marred the shiny black surface. The purple, blue, and red flecks looked dull instead of glittery. The sorcerer tossed the staff aside.

“I don’t know how to fix it,” the sorcerer spat. “Every time I use it since I tried to kill you with it, it doesn’t work properly and burns my hand. But perhaps, if I can better understand this,” he bent and placed his fingers between the chains on Regulus’ right arm, on top of Adelaide’s mark, “I can understand exactly what happened and fix it.”

“Well, if you’re hoping I can explain,” Regulus said with a glare, “I can’t. I was unconscious when Adelaide put that there, and I know nothing about magic.”

“Oh, I don’t need you to explain.” The sorcerer straightened. “I know what that is, even if I’ve never seen one before. Honestly, I thought the lover’s bond to be purely hypothetical. First time I’ve been wrong in quite a while.”

The way Carrick clenched his fists and tightened his jaw atlover’s bondlit a satisfied spark in Regulus’ chest. Let the cad try to argue he could win Adelaide’s heart now.

“There are three known bonds,” the sorcerer said. “The servant’s bond, sometimes called the slave’s bond, which I perfected and with which you’re well acquainted.” Carrick frowned at that, and Regulus nearly laughed. “The protection bond, which is the most common but still not widely used because few people are so selfless as to let another essentially borrow some of their magic. Finally, the lover’s bond. Obviously the rarest, since I didn’t believe it existed outside of legend.”

The sorcerer stroked his beard. “But the lover’s bond is also the strongest, the hardest to break, and most closely unites the bearer and the giver.” He sat cross-legged next to Regulus. “So you don’t need to explain what it is or how she put it there, or even how it works because I’m aware your stupid brain doesn’t understand it. But I do want you to explain what you have experienced since receiving it. What are its effects? What changes have you noticed?”

“Let me say this plainly and simply.” Regulus rested his head against the tree. “As Adelaide said: I’m not yours anymore. I don’t answer to you.”

The sorcerer shook his head. “You always make things so difficult.” He placed his palm against Regulus’ chest. The pain was immediate, and worse than anything Regulus had experienced when he had the sorcerer’s mark. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if it was because of the direct proximity of the sorcerer, but he was too consumed with the pain to think clearly. He screamed, struggling against the chains but unable to do more than kick his legs. His boot hit the sorcerer’s side, and the sorcerer’s hand left his chest. Regulus gasped for air as the world tilted and shifted before his vision cleared.

The sorcerer rubbed his side and cursed. “All right. Let’s try this again. Tell me about the effects of the bond.”

Regulus glared. He wanted to tell the sorcerer to go to hell. But he also didn’t want to experience that pain again. More importantly, when what hurt him hurt Adelaide, he couldn’t go asking for punishment. But would that information help the sorcerer fix the staff? A malfunctioning weapon would help Adelaide defeat him.

“This shouldn’t require that much thought, Hargreaves.” The sorcerer stood. “If you won’t tell me, I suppose we’ll just have to do some research. Carrick.” He motioned toward Regulus. “Have fun.”

Carrick grinned and pulled a dagger from the back of his belt. “My pleasure.”

“No, wait.” Regulus struggled to sit up straighter as Carrick crouched next to him.

“Afraid of a little blood, mongrel?” Carrick laughed. “Where should I start? Maybe I’ll reopen that scar of yours.” The blade glinted as it moved past Regulus’ eyes.

He squelched his rising panic. It would be better to pretend to play along, give obvious information, than let them hurt Adelaide. And he didn’t want to be tortured, either. “I heal.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” the sorcerer spat.

“Little things heal, too. Nicks, bruises.”

The sorcerer squinted. “And that’s it? You’re holding out on me, Hargreaves. Do it, Carrick.” Carrick grinned and moved the point of the knife to the top of Regulus’ scar.

“No!” The chains clinked as Regulus fruitlessly tried to raise his hand to stop Carrick. “That’s it, it works like yours, but without the pain! Please! I heal, there’s no pain, she can’t control me, that’s it.” The point of the knife touched his skin. “Don’t! That’s it, I swear. Please!”

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