Obel pointed to his chest. “The Night Relic,” he said, sharp gaze piercing. “Why do you wear it?”
With a cautious glance at Auden, Deckard shifted in his seat. “After our encounter with Renaul, we agreed it would be best to keep the Relics more closely guarded. And as I was able to disguise it before, I could do so again should the need arise.”
“Hm.” Obel’s brow quirked up. “Do you not feel a pull to use it? Does it not weigh on you like a cloak of sorrow or somberness? Is there no grand urge within you for rest and tranquility?”
Though Deckard knew heshouldfeel those things—any Mage or Warrior not Bonded should feel the individual effects of the Relics upon their emotions by all accounts—he shrugged. “I do not,” he admitted.
“It doesn’t bother you at all?”
“No more than any other necklace might.”
Obel frowned. “And the other Relics, what experience do you have with them?”
Pausing, Deckard found himself surprised. “I don’t,” he said. “I’ve never used any of the other Relics because we assumed I was a Night Mage, and therefore, the Night Relic would best benefit my powers. But I’ve not had the occasion to test the other Relics.”
“Hm,” Obel said again.
“Hm?” Deckard urged.
The duke’s grin grew sly. “Bloody Space Mages,” he said, then tipped his chin toward Deckard. “Bonded or not, you are not a Night Mage. That thing should be crushing you, demanding that you use it. The fact that it doesn’t have that effect on you leads me to only one conclusion: the vastness of Space grants you a focus of mind, a willpower of infinite proportion beyond even what the Relics can demand. You managed to disguise that Relic with Space magic. You managed to carry it unhindered with Space magic.”
Lord Obel’s green stare bored into Deckard, penetrating to his core. “Highlord Calder is right, Colonel,” he said ominously. “Your magicisdangerous. You are a young Mage, both in age and in experience. Yet, you’ve managed to carry a weight of power not even I could bear. It’s good—for now. But as you learn to harness the vastness of Space, you will become even stronger and more capable of far more dangerous things.”
His voice dipped low as he edged forward in his seat. “Yes, Colonel, if you wanted to, I believe you could take all eight of those Relics and destroy this whole damn world.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The amber light of late afternoon flooded into the empty main room of The Rook. After hours of drinking ale and telling jokes, Rafferty stood behind the counter, juggling four wine glasses as Evylin finally got Ethenn to admit to his new relationship with Ilain. When he explained the unique tradition of a Waulden betrothal, they all gaped at him in shock.
“You’re married to her?” Thom asked.
“On a trial basis,” Ethenn confirmed.
“Wow,” Rafferty said, having caught the wine glasses with expert precision. “Does that mean you can boff her on a trial basis?”
All three of his companions sent him a scathing look.
“Just asking,” Rafferty said, then returned to his juggling.
Though Evylin didn’t approve of the lascivious manner in which the question was asked, she couldn’t deny her own curiosity. Knowing of Wauld’s more open culture and scandalous fashion, she leaned closer to Ethenn. “Does it?” she whispered.
“No,” he said immediately. Then he blushed. “Sort of—I mean, no, but we can...you know. If we decide to finalize it, I mean.”
“Curious,” Thom muttered, then emptied his ale. “Well, congratulations, Loxley. She’s a wonderful woman, and you’ll be happy, I’m sure.”
Ethenn eyed him warily. “Thanks.”
Sitting between them, Evylin wondered at their newly patched-up friendship. Thom was working to right his wrongs, but she didn’t know if that included informing Ethenn of Ilain’s true feelings. She thought it must since Ethenn and Ilain were engaged—or rather, wedded on a probationary basis.
What a confusing tradition.
“So,” Rafferty said, eyes on his wine glasses, “Eve and Ethenn are about to be two Bonded Warriors while you and I remain ever ordinary, Thommy. How do you like that?”
“Can’t say I care for it much,” Thom replied good-naturedly.
Rafferty caught the glasses again, setting them on the counter one at a time. “How do you think it works?”
“Not liking something?” Evylin asked.
