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Through the magic connecting them, Cassia sensed Lio’s tension. Was his effort to rid them of the mages about to come back on them?
“All is not well,” Lord Hadrian said. “Your Majesty requires truthful reports from me. Mages who call themselves our allies caused the deaths of my men.”
Blunt and truthful though he might be, Lord Hadrian was still adroit at twisting his words.
The king’s voice was gruff as always, but sounded hoarser than she recalled. “Our allies from the Magelands would prefer we handle such accidents with discretion.”
“With respect, Your Majesty, there is nothing discreet about lives wasted due to friendly fire.”
“And what of lives endangered by Hesperines? We know they are at large in the area. Without the Aithourians, how will you protect my armies from these creatures?”
More power poured through Cassia, and sweat broke out on her skin. Mak and Lyros’s line of blood trickled across the grass, as if the magic gave it a life of its own. On the other side of the king and Lord Hadrian, she could see the dark red stain where the Stewards’ circle had begun.
Lord Hadrian stood his ground. “Your Majesty knows I am wholly devoted to preserving peace in your kingdom. I cannot do so with those mages in my camp. I have six grieving families to answer to. The Aithourians should consider themselves lucky that I am too loyal to my king to hold them accountable under Hadrian justice.”
The king urged his horse alongside Hadrian’s until he was staring the lord in the face. “Yes, you have long held the distinction of being the most loyal man in Tenebra. I have never punished you for speaking freely before me. But if you are hiding something, do not imagine you are above my justice.”
Cassia gritted her teeth against the force of the spell, against the danger unfolding before her, beyond her control. They could not afford for Lord Hadrian to fall from grace now.
If the king drew his sword, Lord Hadrian would need all their power on his side. This would turn into not only a bloodbath, but a mage duel.
“If Your Majesty is displeased with my performance, I will exile myself to Hadria. I can disband my force this very night and relinquish my camp to our Cordian allies.”
A perfect counterattack. The king well knew that Lord Hadrian’s army was all that stood between him and the rebellion brewing at Patria, and seven Aithourians would not be enough to protect him.
“I want a tour of your camp,” the king demanded. “I must search it for threats and personally ensure that you will be safe without Aithourian assistance.”
“We are making ready for you as we speak,” Lord Hadrian replied calmly.
“I know your men are always prepared. I’m sure we need not delay. Take me through the camp now.” It was not an invitation.
Lord Hadrian had no choice but to turn his horse and ride toward the camp. Toward that last gap in the circle of blood.
The line of blood snaked its crimson, glowing tendrils behind Lord Hadrian’s mount. The unseen nip at its heels made the horse dance forward. Lord Hadrian tightened his hand on his reins.
The king looked away from Lord Hadrian, his gaze scanning their surroundings.
And then Cassia felt it. It was so much worse than any Aithourian magic she had ever encountered. The spell that snapped out of the king was wrong. Sick. A twisted, burning thing that smelled of fear and rage.
He was evil to his core. Even his magic was corrupted by his cruelty.
But she had magic of her own, now. Real power to protect her sister and her Grace and their Hesperine family.
She watched the king’s magic sweep over them. First Mak and Lyros, who bared their fangs. Then Solia, her knuckles white on the hilt of her sword.
Then it hit Cassia. It burned her skin and made her sweat like every time he forced her to kneel before him. Her stomach flipped, and bile rose in her throat.
Lio tightened his hand in hers, his magic swelling, and she bit back a cry of effort as she held his spell within her shaking frame. Hesperine magic shone, blinding, inside her, her skin and bones the only veil that concealed it from the king’s probing curse.
And then the fire banked, and she felt cool air on her skin, and she breathed.
The Hesperines’ Wills pushed that line of red in the grass the final distance. Solia focused with them. When blood met blood, the circle fused, and the structure of the spell flashed in Cassia’s mind’s eye like a shield of glass and adamas.
The magic drained out of her and into the ward, and the strength left her limbs. Lio scooped her up and clutched her close to his chest.
From his arms, she watched the king ride through the thelemantic ward and disappear among the tents.
When the last of Lucis’s soldiers crossed the now-invisible barrier, Lio said, “The Collector is not among them.”
