Page 10 of War Mage

“A brand?” I question.

“When an Honorless is banished from Orik they are given a brand on their forehead that marks them as being unable to return to their fatherland. An Honorless that attempts to re-enter Orik would be killed on sight.”

I raise a brow. “You’ll be branded with this symbol of banishment? How willyoureturn to your homeland then?”

“It will be an illusion,” the queen responds, interjecting into the conversation. “Urim will receive a magic tattoo like yours that will allow him to make slight changes to his appearance. It is necessary for Urim to go with you, as Vargan, to make sure you are sold directly to Grazrath. There’s no other way. Once you’re in Grazrath’s bevy of slaves, you’ll be able to get in front of the demon and can use your soulfire against him.”

“I don’t hear the part of the plan where I am to escape afterwards,” I comment wryly. “Is this truly to be a suicide mission, then?”

“Can you not use your voidwalking to escape?” the queen asks curiously.

“I could,” I acknowledge. “But voidwalking is tricky in buildings. I could kill myself by teleporting into a wall or out a window on a higher floor. I would need to learn the layout of the castle in order to get out without dying.”

Lacrys and the queen exchange a glance, having a silent conversation. “We can get you a map,” Queen Adalind finally says. “Urim still has a contact in Barakrin’s resistance movement who can procure such a thing. If you study a map, would that be enough to help you voidwalk out of there?”

“It could only help,” I reply. “It would need to be very accurate, distance-wise, but if it is, I should be able to calculate how many steps to take in the void and what direction to go.”

“Good,” responds the queen. “You will also have to take Urim out with you. His survival is important.”

I don’t stop my lip from curling in distaste. “Oh, I’m sure that Urim can take care of himself.”

“I can,” Lacrys replies bluntly before the queen can speak. “And it is likely that you won’t survive the soulfire and I’ll have to make my own way out anyway.”

I roll my eyes at him. “So comforting. Do you also go around telling the sick how long they have left to live?”

“Peace, peace you two,” breaks in Queen Adalind. “But let me make something very clear, Adara. Urim is important, both to the kingdoms and the Crown personally. I am sending him on this mission only because that gives it the highest chance of success. If you have the opportunity to escape with him at the end and leave him to die, the consequences will be dire. I would consider our deal void and you would have to answer for his death.”

“That is unfair!” I protest. “This mission is dangerous, with many opportunities for things to go wrong. What if he dies and it’s not my fault?”

“Then you will be brought before a tribunal of orcs to tell your tale,” Queen Adalind responds calmly. “Where they will determine if you are lying about the circumstances of Urim’s death.”

“Great, so let me make sure I have this all correct. On top of assassinating an archdemon, I’m also this orc’s keeper and need to make sure he survives this mission? Assuming my soulfire doesn’t kill me immediately, of course,” I say with sarcasm.

“Is there truly no way for you to use your soulfire without ill effect?” the queen asks, ignoring all my other points. “Perhaps if you practice . . .”

I sigh. “Practicing is impossible. I only have so much of my core soul to give and once it is gone, I’m dead. Erased from existence, without even a ghost to go to the Nether. No, I’ve only read of one way and it’s not something we can do at this point.”

“What is that?” questions Lacrys, his face still impassive.

“A soultie,” I say. “When two souls are bound together, the mage who uses their soul element has twice the core soul to use and won’t over-tax their own. But unless you know someone willing to let me bind our souls together forever . . .” I trail off, letting the impossibility of what I’ve said hang in the air.

“Binding souls?” asks Lacrys, “like with a mating bite?”

“That’s one of the easiest ways to bind souls,” I acknowledge. “But I doubt you can find an orc that would be willing to mate with me just on the off-chance that it would help me complete this mission without dying.”

Lacrys looks thoughtful, but Queen Adalind shakes her head. “That’s out of the question. I’m sorry, but orcs can only mate with one person for life and suffer a wasting sickness if they lose their Claimed mates through desertion. I will not ask any orc to give up their chance for a family and children to mate with you for our convenience. Especially since, if you did survive but left them after the mission was complete, it would be a long and torturous death awaiting them for their sacrifice. I’m afraid we’ll simply have to risk you casting the soulfire on your own.”

I sigh again. “I figured that’s what you would say. I wouldn’t want to be bound to an orc for life anyway.”

Now that I’ve heard the whole thing, I can admit that it’s a good plan, just not for me. It shows that they don’t see me as anything more than a pawn that can be sacrificed. Sure, they’ll give me a chance at survival, but it’s obvious that my living to tell the tale is not a priority. And if I am not alive, there will be no one who can ensure that the queen will keep her promise to free the Mage’s Tower.

Continuing, I say, “I want it in writing that if I succeed in killing the demon, even if I die in the process, that you will give the Mage’s Tower its sovereignty. Then I want that written contract to be given to one of the mages at the tower to hold, so that the Crown can be kept to its promise.” My voice is firm as I say this, but the effect of my confidence is a little ruined as I wince at the end, the needle becoming especially painful for a moment.

“That can be done,” Queen Adalind says, not looking upset at my demand. “I can have it signed and sent to the Tower by tomorrow.”

“Good,” I reply, then take a steadying breath. I look down at the progress of the tattoo. It doesn’t look much bigger than it did when we started talking. Damn, this is going to take forever.

“Are you going to tell her the whole truth?” The troll woman asks suddenly, breaking into the conversation, still working on my tattoo.

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