Chapter 9

  Earlier

  Daeg stared at the unconscious form in loathing, skin prickling with goose-flesh. First Meether said this Cannibal had eaten no souls, then the fucker had backlash enough to kill a person, the words ‘Genesis Mage’ came out of Ihllaea’s mouth, then the girl overcame years of death-magic induced trauma in moments in order to Heal this man?

  What the scorching hell was going on?

  But worse…his own Foresight had gripped him like he’d never felt before. For Flame’s sake, he’d had a Foresight vision of this man just last night.

  …treaded on the surface of the pond, lazily watching the Tor Elf, who grinned broadly, mischief in snapping black eyes, as the man dived neatly. He was under for a while, but came up beside Daeg, spouting like a broaching whale. He pushed shoulder-length black hair from his eyes. “Do ye want to try for the boulder again?” he asked in a strong northern lilt.

  Daeg and the stranger dived together, reaching, reaching in unity—and they touched it. In that moment a bond was formed, a loyal liegeman, a friendship, a brotherhood.

  They had to turn back. Daeg surfaced, shook his head, wiped water out of his eyes.

  His hand came away with blood, but Daeg ignored the small head wound, looking out over the battlement to the wasteland of bodies. Beside him, his best friend stood grim, protective guard over him, also eyeing the battleground, his left fist clenched around bright, vivid crimson flames, waist-long hair braided for battle. When the death-magic came at them, the man’s eyes became black steel and he fought the darkness with every weapon he had, including his hatred of the evil they faced. His ally. His vassal. His friend.

  His heart-brother.

  Daeg blinked and found the man kneeling before him, glaring helplessly up at Daeg, in a battle of wills that Daeg had to win against this man. He’d never met such a will! But Daeg had to protect him from himself, from the self-destruction the man wanted with desperate need. “Declare fealty to me,” he repeated. Reluctantly, with knowing and despair in black eyes, he looked up at Daeg, shoulder-length hair sliding away from his face. He lit his darkened lifespark and swore fealty, and Daeg knew, with a certainty like none he’d ever felt, that the man’s loyalty was absolute and unshakable.

  Every image of this strange man gleamed, overlain with a faint rainbow shimmer—yet weirdly surrounded by green.

  Daeg snapped from the memory of his dream. His Foresight had never felt this strong.

  It was happening now. A beginning. Daeg shivered in the wind of Foresight and Eldritch power.

  Who was this man?

  Daeg glared down at him. For a long moment he wondered if he was deceiving himself. This was not the man he’d seen in that Foresight dream. It was the same man, but under very different circumstances.

  Could this broken thing, this Cannibal, really become the ally he’d seen?

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  The friend?

  Daeg rejected the notion immediately before his thoughts carried forward to the full potential of what this man could be. This Cannibal…he wouldn’t befriend him even were he not a Cannibal. He’d been burned too many times. He didn’t need friends.

  But an ally—now that he needed.

  But that Foresight…

  Ambivalence made him waver. He wondered if he should just tell them to let this evil man die.

  But his Foresight gripped him. He’d never experienced this before, though he’d heard of it. Foresight was not a strong gift, was fickle at best. Most mages didn’t have it at all.

  But sometimes it Seized…and didn’t let go until it achieved what it wanted. And Foresight was one of the few gifts known to come straight from the Eldritch.

  Staring at Ihllaea as she worked, head bent close to the man’s, hands around his head as she Healed, he wished she’d left. Daeg didn’t want her around his death-magic—this death-mage that she’d Sparked with.

  The time they spent on this foul creature… Pacing, fiddling with the violet life-gem at his throat, waiting, watching and snarling to himself, Daeg was torn between loathing and hope.

  Daeg’s Healing gift was slight. But even he felt the shift in the battle and turned to the huddle. Daeg went to Curu, crouched at his side, waiting.

  When Ihllaea gave a little cry and a laugh and said he would live, his Foresight released him. He sighed very quietly to himself, heard someone else do the same.

  Daeg clenched his hand. He couldn’t escape the simple fact that…Foresight was from the Eldritch.

  He had to accept that the Eldritch had plans for this creature of death.

  But Flames, he sure didn’t want to.

  When Ihllaea met his gaze, green-gold eyes shimmering with unspent tears, he knew she’d been moved just as hard and sternly by Foresight as he had.

  But then again, she’d been moved by more than that…a Spark. Something equally powerful, if not more so.

  He should know. His soulbond with Sarroah continued to thrum with his wife’s worry, despite repeated reassurances over the hours.

  Expressionlessly, he looked at the man. He was no longer gray with impending death, but he sure looked like shit.

  Daeg stood, Sarroah’s worry and fear hammering at his mind anew. “I’m alright, my aebae,” he murmured to her again, gave his soulmate a gentle mental caress. “Things are settling. We’ve got a bit of a problem, but the Eldritch is moving, so I’m as clueless as Meether. I’ll explain more later.”

  She accepted his reassurance reluctantly, but finally withdrew completely. Daeg sent her a wave of love, easing her fears.

  “Daeg?”

  He turned to Meether.

  “I’m going to Heal that backlash. Those spell-remnants on him will have to wait, but the backlash won’t. It’s affecting him just as much as that infection. See that the Warriors are taken care of, get Ihllaea out of here, and set Warriors to guard the door and this hallway. No one is allowed into the Hall.”

  Daeg nodded. Meether drew Ihllaea to her feet, pushing her toward the door, ignoring her protests. Stubborn girl. Daeg went to his little cousin and took her elbow. “You’re spent, Laea. You’ve worked a miracle. Now go rest,” he said gently.

  Her uncertain gaze strayed back to the Cannibal even as Daeg led her into the hall and gave her a gentle push. She opened her mouth to protest despite the fear he sensed from her.

  But he’d already turned back. Letting Ihllaea argue was tantamount to admitting defeat; that determined girl would ride right over anyone that disagreed with her.

  In the room, he asked Ordnan to bring more Warriors, and waited with him for them to report. Once they’d arrived, he looked them over.

  Oh yeah. They’re gonna to talk.

  Daeg stared at them sternly. “You will keep Silence, Warriors, and I speak to you as your High King.”

  That got their attention. They stiffened and gave him nods or salutes. He dismissed the injured, tired Warriors to the Healer’s Ward, placed new ones in strategic locations. Daeg smiled tightly as he explained to the fresh Warriors that this Cannibal was insane, ill almost to death, under broken spells with severe backlash—and the man had still almost kicked their collective asses.

  Their widening eyes told him that he’d made his point.

  When he was done, he turned back. Meether had taken Ihllaea’s place, hands burning indigo energy as he worked on the man.

  Four fucking Healers. Daeg shook his head. It had taken four Healers hours just to stabilize the Cannibal. Forget Healing. This was all in an effort just to keep him among the living.

  Daeg clenched his fist at his side, the other wrapped white-knuckled round the hilt of his sword. The Eldritch sure wants this man alive.