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Of course. In his arrogance, the Collector would make even his bloodless pawns the highest quality.
Mak’s saddle bag flew open, and a canvas bag imbued with warding magic levitated into his hand. He stuffed the severed head inside. “There. Now the thing can’t see or hear us and carry information back to its master.”
“I’ll burn it when we’re done with it.” Solia held out her hands to Mak, and he surrendered the head to her.
“We could use some help from Tuura to disanimate this,” Lyros said through gritted teeth.
“Let her sleep,” Kella said, her fortune blade in hand. Tilili launched herself at the undead, and Lyros let her have it. The cat pinned the writhing, headless corpse to the ground with her razor-sharp claws.
Lio showed himself some mercy and looked away from the creature. He stopped breathing so he wouldn’t smell the odor of rot wafting off its body.
His father had dealt with such things for hundreds of years. Rudhira and Nike had survived it, too. Methu had died for it.
Lio would learn to bear the horrors of going errant for the sake of the irreplaceable woman in his arms.
Cassia shifted under him, squeezing a hand over her nose. He didn’t let her up, but gave her more room and handed her a handkerchief. She covered her mouth and nose with the Orthros silk, tilting her head to meet his gaze.
Her hazel eyes were so full of life, her aura so vibrant in the shelter of his body. That could change in an instant. She was so mortal.
“I’ve got you,” he said.
Her scent gave her away. Salty fear at what had just happened, but mixed with a warm musk, her body’s instinctive response to his nearness, to his protection.
“Don’t forget I’ve got you, too.” Her words were bold. “If there are more undead, Knight will find them. Seckkaa!”
Knight headed into the shadows, sniffing. Several minutes later, he returned to Cassia. There were no dismembered pieces of an enemy in his jaws, only a knife.
“No more bloodless in the area,” Cassia concluded, “but what has he found?”
“Don’t touch it.” At last Lio rolled to the side to let Cassia up. Mak offered him a hand, while Solia helped Cassia to her feet.
Lio cast a magical probe over the weapon Knight had retrieved. “I don’t sense any curses on it.”
Kella fiddled with a silver pendant hanging from Tilili’s saddle. “My Azarqi charms aren’t warning me of any curses, either.”
“Let me take it, just in case,” Mak said.
“We’ll keep our wards up,” Lyros agreed.
“And I will melt it if anything unpleasant happens,” Solia promised.
Lio rarely regretted his affinity, but at the moment, he wondered if he would have been more use to his Grace if he had inherited his mother’s mind healing, rather than mind magic. He gritted his teeth and let everyone else protect her.
At Cassia’s command, Knight dropped the knife into Mak’s warded hands. He turned it over, studying it, and his magic deepened. “It’s an ordinary kitchen knife, as far as I can tell. Rather dull, in fact, and now with liegehound teeth marks all over the grip.”
A silent, collective sigh of relief gusted through the Blood Union.
Solia pulled Cassia into her arms. “You’re all right.”
Cassia’s anger was already overtaking the fear in her aura, but she held Solia, perhaps more for her sister’s sake. Every instinct in Lio screamed that he should not let Cassia out of his arms, but he stood back and let the sisters reassure each other.
“Good reaction time.” Mak clapped him on the back.
“Would it have been better to levitate her out of the arrow’s path? Or step her to safety?”
“No,” Mak answered. “We didn’t know how many archers there were. You might have levitated her into the path of another arrow. And stepping away from your bodyguards is never a good idea. Don’t you forget that.”
“I won’t.” Lio swallowed. “Good catch.”
