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He peered ahead, past Knight, letting their bond carry him out to the full reach of Cassia’s senses. Nothing.
She grasped his hand, sending him a flash of awareness of his own body. Warm blood smeared across his palm before she released him. He lifted his hand to his mouth and tasted her lush new flavor again, stronger now. Biting his palm, he mingled their blood. Power infused their Union, tangling him tighter with her senses.
There. He felt the bloodless like the changing patterns of a chameleon’s skin. The spell was unlike any he had encountered before. He still couldn’t see or smell the undead, but now he could detect the natural disguise the unnatural creature wore.
A sense of victory passed between him and Cassia, and a hint of wonder came through his fear for her. They were working magic together. Her magic.
But when the tents fell away behind them and a guard post loomed ahead, Lio’s dread regained the upper hand. They were leaving the perimeter.
Another surge of thelemancy rose in him, and he let it. He felt air fill his lungs as Cassia gasped. Her aura pulled him closer. Whatever lay ahead, they would face it together.
Unseen shadows rose, Mak and Lyros strengthening their wards. The air warmed with Solia’s readied fire spells. A dagger appeared in Kella’s hand.
They slipped past Flavian’s sentries. The men shuddered as if a chill breeze had slid under their collars, then went back to staring into the trees.
At the edge of the river, Knight faltered, sniffing the bank with urgency. The Lustra spell seemed to melt into their surroundings like an animal slinking into the grass. No, they could not afford to lose it now!
But there it was again on the other side of the river. Through Cassia’s mind, Lio reached out with his own magic and stepped them all across the water. She let out a surprised, elated sound. Knight bayed, finding the trail again, and they rode on.
Her hound led them past fields and through patches of forest. Each time the bloodless seemed to disappear, Lio and Cassia sensed for it again and stepped their party ahead to wherever it reemerged.
The moons sank lower in the sky. Step after step, they covered miles, Lio knew not how many. He could no longer care what lay in wait for them at the end of the chase. He would face it again if he could ride toward it joined so deeply to her mind, their magic wound together.
When more tents came into sight ahead, they shared an instant of confusion, then understanding. They had not circled back to Patria. It was not Flavian’s banner that waved in the night wind, illuminated by torchlight. The blue flag bore a castle on a cliff over the sea, the emblem of Hadria.
Cassia turned her head and called out to Solia. “You’re not ready to meet Lord Hadrian. Should we stop?”
A beat of silence. Then Solia answered, “No. Ready or not, we must find out where the necromancer is hiding in his camp. Keep the veils up.”
They slipped between patrols of sentries wearing Hadrian blue. Into the precise rows of military tents where the day watch slept. Past the carefully banked embers of fires and racks of well-polished weapons.
The question crept up his and Cassia’s spine. Just how deeply had the Collector embedded himself here, where there was no Hesperine presence at all? Here, where his ally Lucis still reigned?
At last the Lustra magic fell away from the bloodless, and it slipped into a long infirmary tent. Then it disappeared completely from their senses, as if behind a grave shroud. Disgust and a question rose in Cassia, and Lio shared his knowledge with her. They were sensing necromantic concealment spells that covered the entire tent. The undead’s master must be inside.
“Hama! Barda!” Lio said with Cassia.
Knight halted at the edge of the tent and went into guard stance. They were at the end of their hunt.
He heard a voice, Solia’s, he thought. But the voice of Cassia’s thoughts was nearer. Whatever lies within, we face it together.
Together. So close. He had no desire to stop listening to her. Her aura pulled him deeper, like an ocean current dragging him into her irresistible embrace. He was hers. Forever.
A sharp pain in his arm jolted him back into his body. He gasped like a mortal surfacing from the sea. Colors, sounds, and smells struck him. He managed to focus his vision on his forearm in time to see a fang mark heal.
“Back with us?” Lyros asked. “Thought you might need some help.”
“Thank you.” Rubbing the tear in his sleeve, Lio turned to see Cassia swaying in the saddle and Mak helping her down.
He had no time to ask if she was all right before Solia pointed to them in twos and gestured around the tent. “Spread out! Surround it, leave no exits unguarded. We go in on my signal.”
She was ordering Lio away from Cassia. His veins burned with protest.
Lyros guided his horse around Lio’s, herding him and Moonflower toward one side of the tent. “Cassia will be safe with Mak. You’re with me.”
Lio took a deep breath and heeded his Trial brother. They dismounted, Lyros sending their mounts off to join the other horses nearby, then took their post at the side flap.
“Try to master the necromancer’s mind and prevent any more violence,” Lyros said. “I’ll protect you while you cast. Trust Mak to keep Cassia out of the way if the enemy targets you.”
