Riven blinked.
Not ‘nothing’, more like a blank, a void.That had to be the Queen, yet she hadn’t any presence in magesight.The golden cords were linked, but she wasn’t…constrained?Restricted?
Curious.
One gold-red cord ran off and out of sight.The missing Bondmaiden, it had to be.
Other than the Bondmaidens and the spells in the walls, he didn’t see much evidence of magic.Usually, especially among the nobility, there were charms and whatnot, little bits of sparkling power.He saw none.
Until he drifted toward a tower filled with apartments and chambers, one of which glittered like a hard star.
The dead Chained Mage’s quarters.Had to be, the wards were not old and were deadly.With his death, they had started to fade, but they were still deadly.Riven pulled his sight back.Mage sight was a passive thing, not easily detected, but he would take no chances.
Nothing else stood out.The normal, sanctified glow of the chapel, he ignored, drifting past, ready to turn over and get some sleep.Until a pulse caught his attention.
Hate.Rage.Pulsing like a beating heart.
What could that be?He narrowed his focus, concentrating.Not the chapel.Below the chapel.The crypts?Riven moved closer, feeling the beginnings of a headache, but curious enough that the pain didn’t stop him.
A great seething hand of anger smacked him back with a blow that made his head ring.
Head pounding, Riven snapped his eyes open and cut his mage sight.His temples throbbed and he hesitated to breathe, fearing that he’d been discovered, or worse, was now pursued.
But his lungs forced him to take in air, and after long, endless moments, no one and no thing came after him.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.He was helpless, alone, and surrounded by Wyvern warriors, vicious Bondmaidens, possible detection by the Guild, and something lurking in the palace depths, and off he went like an apprentice, poking at things.He was an idiot.
Riven pulled the covers up around his shoulders.Whatever that was, it wanted no part of him.
And he wanted no part of it.
He shivered until exhaustion claimed him.
Days later Rivenhad his first audience with Queen Satia.
She lay sprawled on a lounge, looking sallow, dull, rather bloated, and very pregnant.The room smelled of ginger and sick, was empty but for himself and her Bondmaidens.It was the first time Riven had seen sunlight in some time.He blinked his eyes against the glare, even as he knelt before her, head down.The stone floor was cold and hard beneath his knees.
“So, you say your name is Riven.”Her tone was smooth, but it held shadows.
Riven’s skin tingled with goosebumps.Nora was directly behind him, with Caris and Mira to either side, their skirts hemming him in.Avice stood beside the Queen.
He had no doubt that here, now, he had to watch his every move, every word.
“Majesty.”He bowed lower, baring his neck, his tone submissive.
“You are a blood mage.”
An ever-so-familiar chill ran down his spine.“It is death to admit such, Majesty.”
“True.”Her voice was dry and hard.“But I have a need for such…skills.You have nothing to fear from me.”
A glance at the skirts around him said differently, but this was not the time to challenge.
“I have practiced those arts,” he said carefully.
“Hmm,” she mused.He kept his eyes down, but felt her stare.“Were you powerful?Before you fell to the bottle?”
He licked dry lips.“Yes.”
