Page 11 of Eldritch
“The night I dragged you out of Bonesguard and you wouldn’t stop with your incessant questions.”
A vague recollection of feeling overwhelmingly cozy while straddling his horse came to mind. Of course, I couldn’t summon a single event after that. Not until the next morning. “Is it possible then that Elowen may have cast a spell on Aleysia?”
“I’ve never known a spell to last for days, but I suppose, yes.”
“Is there no way to break it?”
“Spells break themselves at some point. They’re a weaker form of magic, mostly used by spindlings. Perhaps mortals, as well.” He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, the gesture a minor distraction to the thoughts he’d stoked.
“But Elowen changed the color of my eyes. That lasted most of my life, up until she passed,” I said, forcing myself to ignore the gentle toying of my hair.
“That was blood-binding, I’m sure. I doubt she’d have resorted to that for a slumbering spell.”
“Why?”
“Too much risk, binding your blood to someone. Besides, it seems her death would’ve broken it. Unless …”
“Unless?”
He sighed and rolled onto his back, tucking an arm beneath his head. “Wasn’t her blood.”
His change in position allowed a clear view of Aleysia’s room, and the darkness of it sent another shiver through me. “And if it wasn’t, then Aleysia remains in slumber until we find out who, or what, she’s bound to.”
“Essentially, yes.”
“Would it require killing the other to break it?”
He shrugged. “Not necessarily. So long as it could speak the spell that would break her slumber. But this is all hypothetical at this point. If a blood-binding was used, searching for whatever she’s bound to would be like looking for a particular single leaf in the woods. Could be anyone, or anything. We don’t even know if she’s under a spell. She could simply be comatose, given how cold it was.”
“So, youareaware of what happens when mortals get cold.” I propped myself on my elbow and sighed, catching the smirk on his lips. “Then, we’ve no choice but to wait.”
As if he couldn’t resist, he turned toward me and ran his hand over the dip above my hip, fingers curled in a proprietary squeeze that slid me closer to him.
I pressed my cheek to his chest, but something felt different from the night before. In spite of my heart’s anguished scream, the unbearable yearning for him that clawed at my ribs, my head had already begun to distance itself. I squeezed my eyes shut and held him tighter, desperate to stay in this moment. To keep my mind from slipping into hopeless thoughts of the future.
It's going to be okay. Everything will work out in the end. It always does.
“Are you alright?” Zevander’s question broke my thoughts. “Your nails are on a mission to pierce through my ribs.” Amusement colored his voice and I loosened my grip.
“I should be thrilled that I found her, but everything feels so heavy right now.”
“The world doesn’t always play fair. It may give something back, but it’ll take from you in exchange.”
“I feel like it’s taken far more than it has given.” Jaw hardened, I shook my head. “I won’t let it take from me again. I want to resume our trainings. However long we’re here. I need to learn to defend myself and my sister against those things.”
“Yes, you should. But you sound as if you’re making plans to face them alone.” He ran his thumb across my cheek, eyes burning with a steely resolve. “I’m not leaving you.” Curling his fingers around the nape of my neck, he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “We can begin training in the morning, if you’re up to it.”
I nodded, tracing the ridges of his chest, and when my fingertip caught on a protrusion, I frowned, leaning forward for a better look. A strange symbol looked to have been seared into his skin that, on closer examination, held even smaller symbols that reminded me of endless tiny glyphs.
I hadn’t noticed it before. Likely because it wasn’t entirely obvious, the way it blended into his scarred skin. “What is this?” I asked, gently running a finger over it. A strange heat burned beneath my fingertip.
“A scar, courtesy of sablefyre.”
“It burned you?”
“It marked me. What you’re prodding is said to be the root of my curse,” he said, and when I retracted my hand, he captured it and chuckled. “So many times, I’ve tried to cut it out of my flesh.”
I palpated the jagged scars on the outside of it, ones that must’ve been carved with a knife. “This is what binds you to the flame?”
