Page 115 of Burdened Bonds
There’s nothing holding me back now, though, and so carefully – oh so carefully – holding my breath – I rearrange the thoughts in his head, reorder the words and letters, manipulate them until they are something altogether different.
The prisoner must be taken to the Lord Protector immediately, without delay.
“We have no weapons,” I tell him.
He nods. “Fine, let’s go then. We’re wasting time here. This prisoner must be taken straight to the Lord Protector.”
The soldiers around us glance at their commander, surprised his mind has changed so quickly. Renzo and Rhi look equally shocked. But I don’t hang about for anyone to unpick this chain of events. I hold Rhi’s arm and walk us forward and soon everyone is falling into step.
We walk the length of the road leading up to the Kennedy residence, through the now heavily guarded set of iron gates and up the steps that lead to the great house’s entrance. There are yet more guards at the door and our commander steps forward to speak to them. More questions, more suspicion, and I’m required to do some more altering of thoughts until finally we’re let through and made to wait in the main entrance hall surrounded by so many guards I lose count.
Yeah, this was the most stupid plan Azlan and I have ever come up with and there have been some pretty dumb ones over the years.
A messenger is sent off to inform the Lord Protector of our arrival and I can sense Rhi’s nerves beside me. I squeeze her arm, try to send her reassuring emotions through the bond, but, truth be told, I’m as nervous as she is.
I never liked Azlan’s uncle. He always gave me the creeps. And that feeling has only cemented the older I’ve become. Maybe once men like him both terrified and amazed me. I’d stand in awe of their power and abilities. Those times have long passed. Now I see them for the jerks they are.
We wait. The house is large and sounds emit from within its depths – voices, machinery, the whirr of magic. It is clear the new Lord Protector has moved the heart of his power base from the ruined council building to this mansion.
“Is he here?” I whisper to Rhi without moving my lips.
She nods her head ever so slightly, keeping her eyes trained ahead, her chin lifted in defiance.
“Can you tell where?”
She tilts her head to the side. I follow the trajectory and spy a door in the wall, a guard standing before it. I search hismind. There’s a staircase behind him that leads down to the old cellars of the house. The boy is being kept in there along with one or two other prisoners the Lord Protector deems of particular interest.
I search the guard’s mind some more – for information on the security precautions down there in the cellar – for what we might face when we head down there. But the guard is ill-informed. His job is to guard the door and that is all. I skim through other minds searching for answers, finding none.
Do we risk it? There are twenty men at least in this room guarding us and who-knows-what down there in the cellar. Are the three of us strong enough to take that on? We have the element of surprise, we have Renzo’s ability to travel through space. We also have his pure craziness and my ability to manipulate minds. In fact, maybe I could use that ability right now to–
But I’m too late, because the Lord Protector is already here, and we’re well and truly screwed.
44
Rhi
A man strollsdown the grand staircase, his back rigid, his hands clasped in front of him and his black robes billowing out behind him in a way that makes him look like a bat swooping down from the ceiling.
His skin is sallow, his nose hooked and his eyes full of malice.
I don’t need any introductions to know this is Christopher Kennedy. I recognize him from the dueling match. Although that day, he’d been a formidable blur in the distance. Tonight, he’s much closer and, despite my attempt, I struggle to see the likeness with his son.
Where Tristan is all golden and fair, his father is colorless and dark. And where Tristan disguises his intelligence behind that mask of nonchalance, his father’s cunningness radiates from every pore. In one way they are alike though,both arrogant. Both powerful. The man’s magic seems to fill the great hallway, even the guards cowering in his presence.
His intelligent eyes lock onto me and a wide unkind smile spreads slowly across his face.
“So it really is you, Rhianna Blackwaters. I wasn’t sure whether to believe it or not. And delivered to me by none other than the academy’s wayward professor and Lowsky’s hunting dog. How intriguing. How very intriguing indeed.”
“We’ve delivered her to you,” Stone says, “now we want the money.”
“I’m sure you do, Professor Stone,” Christopher Kennedy says, continuing to stalk down the staircase. “I’m sure you do. Once a sewer rat, always a sewer rat. That desperation for money never leaves you, does it, no matter what pretty position the academy hands you?”
Stone bristles on the spot, struggling to hold his tongue.
Christopher Kennedy reaches the bottom of the staircase and crooks a finger towards me.
“Come here,” he commands.
