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But, to who?
Gabriel and Kalen seemed to enter some sort of staring contest, and before I could put much thought to how Kalen had come to be immortal and who served as his master, Ione rose from her seat on the oak table where she’d been restlessly toyingwith Kalen’s dagger.
“Enough, you two,” she said, lethally calm. “It is clear you still hate each other. We waste time picking at old wounds.”
Gabriel’s chin lifted slightly in acknowledgement. “Well taken, dear sister.”
“Gwynore,” Ione said, and my throat bobbed hearing my name on her tongue, the tone so sinister yet mocking. “Come.”
I straightened immediately, trying neither to sprint towards her nor acknowledge the way my heart grew wings, flapping against my chest, trying to escape through my throat as I approached her.
“Kalen has told us about your journey to the prison world. The length of time you spent there and under what conditions. While I…” her words stopped abruptly when she looked towards me. I hadn’t even noticed my mouth opening to speak. “What is it?”
“I apologize,” I said, not really sorry. I couldn’t help myself. “I don’t quite grasp your meaning when you say the Binding was a prison world. Yes, I remained there for a while, but it did not seem like seventy years. I had no sense of time, and I only stayed because I did not know how to leave.”
“A world without Time?” Gabriel spoke up from his corner, crooked mouth reappearing. “I have known no other definition for the wordprison.”
He turned suddenly and pranced to the serving table along the far wall that held assorted cheeses, fruits, and toasted loafs. Kalen had put it there purely as a courtesy, not expecting any of the Sages to indulge while there were such serious matters to be discussed. But the way Gabriel was dallying along made me think he may have been inclined to balance the serious with plenty of play. And sugar grapes.
The Time Sage had just popped one into his mouth when his sister snapped: “Frankly, I do not care. Your comfort inside The Binding is a trivial matter, Gwynore.” Her black paintednails tapped once atop her lap as she seemed to quietly gather herself. “What I seek to know is how you are here, now. Tell me, Preserver, how exactly is it that you found your way into a place in which not even Gabriel’s power can reach? How is it possible that Gwyn has been rescued?”
Kalen grunted, stalking forward to where Gabriel sat on the serving table. I thought for a moment the wicked gleam in his eye meant he would yank the stem of fruit from the Time Sage’s hands. But Kalen stopped barely a foot’s length away, keeping his eyes on Gabriel while he answered Ione dutifully.
“I commissioned a very powerful witch, I’m sure your brother knows of her.” He looked down his nose at Gabriel, who answered his gaze with a mischievous pop of dimples. “Ayona Burnwell.”
Gabriel’s brows shot up at this, and his throat bobbed with surprise. “That wench! And she didn’t think to tell me?” He spoke as he chewed another grape. “Still holding onto a grudge, I guess.”
“She didn’t tell you because she is dead.” Kalen answered simply, and Gabriel’s smirk fell flat. “The enchantments she used to send me into the Binding were of a very old magic—the Arts, you may have heard them called. She grew weak when she summoned them. It overwhelmed her.”
Like it meant little to him, the price paid to bring me back.
Gabriel sucked on his teeth, but something in his eyes seemed to die the moment he looked Kalen over and realized what he claimed was true. “Of course, it did,” he said grittily. “Common, isn’t it? That your presence in other’s lives often leads to death.”
Kalen didn’t reply. I searched his face for any clue to Gabriel’s meaning. A crease in the corner of his mouth, a pinched eyelid. Something to tell me there was a speck of emotion for whatever had happened to thisAyona Burnwell. That the accusation Gabriel had made was some sort of exaggeration orfarce. Anything would have been better than the slack, guiltless expression Kalen wore now.
“There,” Ione said, distracting the pair once again. “We have solved one mystery, now onto the next. You escaped the Binding, Gwynore, but you did not leave intact. There is the matter of three stones. Parts of your soul that remain hidden from you.”
“Just two stones, Your Grace. I have reclaimed one,” I corrected.
“Interesting.” Ione’s eyes squinted at this revelation, slowly tracing a path toward Kalen. “You expect to do what, once you possess the other parts of your soul?”
Gabriel scoffed. “Don’t be coy, sister. You know exactly where Gwynore is headed once she realizeswhoshe is.”
“If I wanted you to answer the question, brother, I would have directed it at you.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes at Ione, turning his face to the wall to blow a raspberry. I almost laughed, something breathy and relieved, finding a small piece of respite in his childishness. But then every Sage eye turned to me, waiting for an explanation.
“Gabriel is right, Your Grace,” I admitted, trying to muster some confidence. How could she ever believe in my plans if it did not sound as if I even agreed with myself? “Once I retrieve my soul, I plan to travel to Sythe and reclaim the Light for my faction. Of course, I hope to ask for your support in the endeavor. Kalen and I will—”
“No,” Ione interrupted, raising one of her hands as if she physically wanted to wipe the words away. “No, I cannot allow you to do that. You will not step one foot into the Shadow faction, Gwynore.”
“If it is Gwyn’s will to travel into any of the factions, by law you cannot stop her,” Kalen argued.
“If it is Gwyn’s will to commit treason, you are right, I can’t stop her. I won’t stop her. But by the same law, I’ll be forcedto kill her,” was Ione’s reply. Then she huffed, “Actually, forced may be too harsh a word. I think I’d rather enjoy it.”
“Treason?” Kalen shouted. “On what charges, exactly?”
It was Gabriel who spoke next, rather plainly: “Attacking a sovereign faction. Bringing harm upon a Sage.”
