Page 8 of The Missing Sentinel
“Who is our guest, Drexley?” the ancient necromancer asked.
Drexley hustled to the man’s side. “You should be inside resting. I have asked this stranger to leave.”
The sorcerer sighed heavily and immediately erupted into a coughing fit. If this man was the creator of the realm, there was no mystery why it was crumbling at the edges. The necromancer was nearing the end of his life.
“Adney, you should go inside and sit. I will ensure this man leaves.”
“Dear Drexley, stop fussing,” said the man as he sagged against the doorframe. Ducarius assumed he was Adney Blackwell despite the rumors of his death five centuries ago. “He cannot leave. I am afraid I kept a secret. This realm allows no one to leave except me, and I lack the sorcery to alter the spell.”
Perhaps if his mate weren’t standing a few feet away, Ducarius would be appalled at the thought of being trapped. But he refused to go anywhere without his other half, and he wanted answers. Why had Adney trapped himself and Drexley in this tiny realm? And what had he done to convince Drexley that his people should be ruled by the Order of Necromancia and its legion of asshole necromancers?
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Drexley’s mind was spinning, and his intense confusion helped abate his strange erection. If he had not studied so intensely, hewouldn’t have a name for the way his penis was reacting. Adney had been clear that sentinels lacked sexuality permanently and could not be mated. So, why had Drexley’s entire being reacted to the stranger trespassing on their land?
Ignoring the cloaked man and his rioting emotions, Drexley focused on getting Adney into the castle. But Drexley could not stop his mind from wandering. Why hadn’t Adney ever mentioned that he was trapped in the realm?Does it matter?Drexley immediately questioned. The only place Drexley could recall with any clarity was a compound he had no desire to visit.
Still, it was unsettling to have his choices taken from him without his knowledge. Drexley decided his thoughts about Adney’s actions could wait. As he helped the necromancer navigate the wide hallway, Drexley refused to acknowledge the cloaked sentinel stalking in behind them.
If Adney was correct and sentinels lacked mates, why had Drexley reacted so intensely to the stranger? And why did every sentinel know who Drexley was? Could he be in danger from the other sentinels? Drexley shivered as icy dread rushed through him. But he couldn’t honestly pinpoint what scared him the most.
Drexley led Adney to a seat in the great hall and immediately grabbed a blanket to lie across his lap.
“Thank you, Drexley. Now, let us speak with our guest. Everyone, have a seat.”
Taking the chair at Adney’s side, Drexley decided it was best for him to allow the other men to talk. He preferred the role of observer since he was so horribly confused.
“Adney Blackwell, I presume,” the stranger stated in an admittedly pleasant voice. His cloak was unrelenting gray, and it matched the boots poking through the edges of the voluminous fabric. “It is odd to meet you since rumors abound about your unfortunate demise five centuries ago.”
“I invited you into my home to speak to you aboutyourmission here, not discuss my past,” Adney retorted. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”
“My name is Ducarius. It is embarrassing to admit, but I tumbled into your realm. Your magic is fading, and I recognized an anomaly. It was my intention to bring it to the attention of the Lich Sentinel, not to immediately join you here. But I believe Fate had a hand in it now that I know my mate calls this realm home.”
“The Lich Sentinel should not have given himself a title. Alaric is a sentinel and should obey the rules of necromancers instead of putting himself in a position of power above anyone else,” Drexley stated firmly, then wanted to slap himself for getting involved in the conversation. It had been his intention to stay silent, but Adney had drummed into his head how wrong it was for Alaric to pretend he was a leader, so the words had slipped out.
“That is a conversation for you and Alaric to have,” Ducarius said, and Drexley frowned as he sensed some humor in the man’s nearly monotone voice.
“It was my belief that sentinels lacked mates,” Adney remarked.
“You believe in the truth of those words, but I cannot understand the logic. We were created by sorcery, which makes us a type of magickind. Fate blesses all magickind with mates,” Ducarius responded.
“In my mind, I considered sentinels resurrected beings, not magickind; hence my confusion,” Adney commented. “How can you be sure you are Drexley’s mate?”
“As a necromancer, were you not taught how to recognize your mate?” Ducarius asked, his tone mystified.
“That is a foolish question,” Drexley retorted. “Adney is a well-educated necromancer with thousands of years of knowledge. Of course he knows the basics of Fate.”
“Then perhaps you should explain to him how you recognized me as your mate,” Ducarius challenged.
Drexley frowned. While he couldn’t deny that his body had grown erratic at meeting Ducarius, did that mean they were mates? Or was Adney correct in his assumption that no resurrected beings had that connection to another?
“I do not know what to think,” Ducarius said, which was the truth. His entire being had reacted strongly, but until he met the mysterious Ducarius, he had not believed a mate was in his future. Did unknown reactions prove anything? He was far too educated not to think things through. As soon as he was alone, he had plenty to examine.
“You are overwhelmed, so I will not hold it against you that you are disregarding Fate,” Ducarius stated matter-of-factly. For a sentinel, the man sounded far too sure of himself.
“Where is your necromancer?” Drexley asked.
“Sentinels no longer have necromancers,” Ducarius replied, the words clipped and nearly angry. “The bond between our people was broken years ago.”
