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“’Tis grave news, indeed.”
Truer words were never spoken. “Have you decided what you’ll do about Olivia, keep her or break your mate bond?”
“I cannot let her go.” His gaze, full of concern, lingers on her pale, still form.
“You should know…if Olivia lives, Mathias will probably seek her, just as he will seek the book.”
He clutches her tighter. “Nay.”
“Yeah.”
I choose my next words carefully. Saving magickind from Mathias might not be possible unless I get my hands on the book. And until I discover how to steal it or end Marrok’s curse, I can’t touch it.
“The Book of Doomsday could win Mathias any magical war with a few strokes of his pen, but he has probably surmised, as I have, that it’s even more powerful if wielded by a Le Fay.”
Is Marrok aware that he cradles Olivia even more protectively?
“I realize there are no easy answers, and you have a monumental choice to make. But the survival of magickind is resting on your decision.”
“Mine?”
I am tired of talking. Tired, period. Marrok hates magic—with good reason. He’ll do whatever he wants, never mind all those magical who will die trying to protect their loved ones, the witches Mathias will rape until death, the wizards he will kill for sport, or the younglings who will vanish into the disposable army he’ll use to commit unspeakable atrocities.
“You need to decide if you’re going to break your bond.” I glance at Olivia’s deathly pale face again. “If you do nothing, she won’t live to see the next sun rise.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Well, Bram?” my half sister prompts the moment I enter Goldcroft Manor.
I turn to Sabelle, who is far more interested in magical politics than I like. Magickind is no longer dealing with subtle intrigues and Machiavellian games. We’ve plunged into truly dangerous times. Yet she’s all too willing to jump into treacherous waters headfirst. As always, I stand ready to be my younger sister’s life jacket.
Sabelle recently celebrated her eighty-fourth birthday. Old by human standards…but young in the magical world.
On the other hand, she’s quick, clever, and understands magickind in a way few do. Despite her youth, she provides surprisingly sage advice.
“What did the Council decide about Mathias’s return?”
“Nothing. Too busy squabbling.” I roll my eyes. “Ineffectual idiots. Why did I agree to fill this vacant seat?”
“Because you are the future of the Council. Their time is nearly past. Patience…”
“The Council elders fail to see that if they rescind the Social Order, Mathias will have no cause to hide behind and will be exposed as an evil, murdering power-grabber.” I grit my teeth. “But they fear Privileged backlash if they rescind it even more than they fear Mathias. So they argue between prudence and action. They’ll keep arguing while everyone around them dies.”
She sighs. “You can’t be surprised.”
“They’re so bloody afraid of change!”
“What about Marrok? Will he give you the book?”
“He never admitted to having it, but I’m convinced he does. If I had any notion where he’s hiding the blasted thing, I’d take it. But he won’t part with it willingly until he’s broken his curse. That could take centuries more. Time we don’t have.”
“True, but you can hardly blame the man.”
“I would like to.”
Sabelle sends me a saucy smile. “In his shoes, you’d do the same.”
She’s not wrong, but… “The good of magickind—”
