Page 413 of Primal Bonds

“Ah.” Cleia opened her mouth, closed it.

“Go ahead. Say it.”

“We made it work when no one—even you—thought we could. A sun fae and a river fada.”

He just shook his head. He was still holding the food. He took a bite of the sandwich and followed it with a gulp of coffee.

“You are hungry,” she said, and to please her, he kept eating until it was gone.

As he was finishing up, Lady Olivia ’ported in. They turned to her hopefully. She strode toward them, her long, fire-colored dress draped like liquid flame over her slender body, her penny-bright hair twined in a coronet around her head.

“Peace to you and yours,” she said, and then gave a rueful shake of her head. “I’m afraid I haven’t made any progress on the wards.”

“By the Goddess,” Cleia bit out. “How is he keeping us out? You’re the best spell-breaker we have.”

Dion briefly closed his eyes.

Olivia touched his arm for the first time ever, as far as he could recall. “I’m sorry, Dion. I’ve tried everything I can think of.”

“I know. And I thank you for it.”

“We will break through,” she said. “And when we do, I’ve prepared a few helpful…aids, shall we say?”

“Oh?” murmured Cleia.

“One moment.” Olivia conjured up a blazing fae light. A nearby shadow made a small sound of pain and hurriedly withdrew. With a little half-smile, she held the glowing orb higher so they stood within a shaft of light.

Dion narrowed his eyes. He didn’t have the sun fae’s love of bright lights, but he accepted the need for it.

“You have the protection charm?” Olivia asked him.

He wordlessly held up his wrist. The delicate silver bracelet encircled it.

“Good,” she said. “Get that back to Rosana as soon as possible. It won’t block a fae as powerful as the prince forever, but it will buy her time.” She handed Cleia a small silk bag. “I made a charm for the Savonett female as well.”

Cleia frowned. “That’s good of you, but you’ve expended so much energy trying to break the wards. Are you sure this wasn’t too much for you?”

The other woman raised a fine sable eyebrow. “I know my limits.”

Which didn’t really answer the question.

Dion eyed the fae lady. Her narrow, pointed face looked gaunt. Magic at the level she’d been wielding it sucked life-energy right out of you.

Cleia sighed and pursed her lips. She might be queen, but Olivia was her top adviser, their relationship one of near-equals. “Just remember we’ll need you when we do break through.”

Olivia inclined her head.

“What if he’s convinced Rosana to accept his geas?” Cleia voiced Dion’s deepest fear.

A chill prickled his skin. He was fairly certain his sister wouldn’t accept Langdon’s geas for herself, no matter what the prince offered her. But she might accept it to save Adric.

“Then we’ll have to encourage him to break it,” Olivia replied.

“How?” Dion demanded. “A geas is almost impossible to break.”

“By the person who accepted it, yes,” Olivia said. “But not by the fae who set the terms.”

Dion’s mouth twisted. “Why would he break it? He’d love to have a Seer in his power for the next ten turns of the sun.”

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