“Where are we going?”
“My personal stronghold. Somewhere your misguided mate can't follow quickly enough to matter.” Carved stone begins materializing around us, growing from nothing into towering spires of black marble and iron. “Somewhere you'll have time to understand what you've been missing.”
The transportation begins, that nauseating sensation of space folding around us. The world dissolves into marble and shadow, and I'm gone.
KIAKOA
The bond convulses in my chest when she vanishes.
One moment, I feel her presence burning bright in the eastern wing of my castle. Her fear, her anger.
The next—nothing. Empty silence where her heartbeat should echo through our connection.
I wheel my mount around immediately, abandoning the false trail. A scout, one of the outriders, gallops to meet me.
“My lord! A message from the forward scouts—the Valajoki settlements are empty. Evacuated. There are signs of a plague warning posted weeks ago.”
The words confirm what the broken bond already tells me. “A false warning,” I say, the rage building so hot it becomes cold. “A fabrication to lure us away.” I'm already pushing toward home, the horse responding to the urgency in my voice. “This was a diversion. Vasek has taken her.”
“Orders?” Morris asks, riding up beside me.
“Return to castle. Mobilize every remaining guard.” The animal grunts under the pace I demand, but I don't slow. “Full war footing. Anyone who aided in her capture dies.”
Morris nods grimly and signals the column to wheel around. Professional soldiers, they adapt quickly to changed circumstances. But they can't match the speed I need.
I abandon the formation within minutes, driving my mount far beyond normal endurance. The horse's breathing turns ragged, foam flecking its mouth, but I don't relent. If the animal dies under me, I'll run the rest of the way.
The rage builds with each stride. Not the controlled anger I've learned to direct over centuries, but something older. Primal. This is the same raw power that first claimed this territory.
She was taken from my home. From under my protection. While I chased shadows and false intelligence.
I will paint the world red for this insult.
The horse collapses two miles from the castle, heart finally giving out under the supernatural pace I demanded. I continue on foot, covering ground faster than the dying animal ever could.
The familiar spires come into view, and immediately I see the wrongness. The eastern wing flickers in my vision, architecture unstable from lingering reality distortion.
The main gates stand open, my remaining guards rushing to meet me. “My lord!” the gate captain calls. “We felt the magical disturbance, but?—”
“Where.” One word, but it carries harmonics that make the stone walls vibrate.
“Eastern wing, sir. Vasek's signature all over the chambers. Portal magic, but unlike anything we've seen.”
I stride past them into the castle, taking the stairs three at a time. The shadow servants materialize around me as I climb, more solid than I've ever seen them. They feed on my escalating rage, growing coherent enough to actually grasp at my clothes in their eagerness to help.
The eastern chamber still holds traces of Vasek's reality manipulation—scorch marks on stone where dimensions folded incorrectly, the lingering taste of metal and alien spaces. But more importantly, I can smell her here. Fear-sweat and determination, copper where she bit her own lip.
And underneath it all, Vasek's presence. Wine and arrogance and the cold sterility of ancient power carefully controlled.
Scratch lies crumpled against the far wall, his form barely maintaining coherence. Multiple cracks run through his smoky body, evidence of violence.
“Master.” His voice is barely a whisper. “I tried to protect her. Tried to fight him.”
“Where is she?”
“The Ironspire. Vasek's personal stronghold.” He struggles to sit up, form flickering dangerously. “I gave her a tracking charm. You can follow the trail.”
My vision goes red around the edges. “How long?”
