stifled a growl. For his sake, he’d better not be.
Nukpana’s grin was slow and wicked. “Would you care to place a wager on that? A private wager?”
My father spoke. “The two of you did what you had to—and unfortunately forged an umi’atsu bond. Tamnais is powerful enough to be one half of an umi’atsu. You are not. But you and the Saghred . . .”
“Let me guess: it was enough.”
“The level of magical power you and Nathrach generated to save those spellsingers was more than enough. Have you seen him since that night? In person?” he added.
“No, we didn’t think it would be a good idea just now, what with Carnades thinking we’re forming our own league of darkness. Does he know about—”
Sarad Nukpana snorted. “Of course Carnades Silvanus knows about magical bonds, especially anything that could involve a goblin. His life’s goal is to wipe every one of us from the face of the earth. So what if we conquered, tortured, and enslaved thousands of elves—that was hundreds of years ago. Ancient history. Some people don’t know when to let go of a grudge.”
When I’d first met Carnades last week, he’d told me that he was an avid student of goblin history, and that only through knowledge can your enemy be defeated. To Carnades, every goblin was his enemy. Unfortunately a lot of powerful elves, mostly pure-blooded high elves and military types, felt exactly the same way. Part of me didn’t blame them; part of me actually sided with Sarad Nukpana. That was a scary thought.
“But elves have become more adept at protecting themselves over the centuries,” Nukpana noted. “They may even be more intelligent than their rather dim ancestors.” He sighed nostalgically. “It’s not as easy to defeat and enslave elves as it used to be.”
Cancel that. I agreed with Carnades, at least as far as eradicating this particular goblin was concerned.
Eamaliel’s eyes met mine. “Raine, you have an umi’atsu bond with the chief shaman for the House of Mal’Salin—”
“ Former chief shaman,” I hurriedly corrected him.
“To those such as Carnades Silvanus, that technicality makes no difference.”
“And if I’m in this bond, the Saghred is in it.” I didn’t ask it as a question; I knew the answer.
“Unfortunately correct,” he said softly.
I plopped down in the chair. “Carnades is gonna love this. He’ll get me and Tam on the executioner’s block in one fell swoop.”
And possibly Mychael along with us.
A prickle of cold panic ran up my back. The walls of my room were fading and the gray void was seeping in.
My father swore. “You’re waking up. Have a care, daughter.” His voice was fading, as was he. “And trust your instincts.”
Sarad Nukpana’s mocking laughter came as if from far away. “You can’t trust anyone else.”
I woke up, came to, whatever, as my eyes blinked their way open—and told me nothing. It was dark. I think I was under a blanket or cloak; however, I didn’t feel any manacles on my wrists. Good to know. I was also upside down, over someone’s shoulder, and that someone was moving fast. It felt like all the blood in my body had converged between my ears. My carrier adjusted my weight with a grunt. I knew that grunt. Vegard. If he was moving that fast and had to hide me under a cloak, yelling for him to put me down probably wouldn’t be a good idea. I opted for pounding my hand once on his armored back to at least let him know I was conscious.
He responded by tightening his hold on my legs and running faster. That didn’t fill me with the warm and fuzzies about our situation.
“Stop!”
The sharp command came from in front of us. I heard steel being drawn from all around us. My blanket fell off, but I still couldn’t see jack squat.
Footsteps echoed on stone, leisurely walking toward us. Then they stopped. A voice spoke, his words calm, his expectation nothing less than Vegard’s complete cooperation.
“Give her to us, or
Nukpana’s grin was slow and wicked. “Would you care to place a wager on that? A private wager?”
My father spoke. “The two of you did what you had to—and unfortunately forged an umi’atsu bond. Tamnais is powerful enough to be one half of an umi’atsu. You are not. But you and the Saghred . . .”
“Let me guess: it was enough.”
“The level of magical power you and Nathrach generated to save those spellsingers was more than enough. Have you seen him since that night? In person?” he added.
“No, we didn’t think it would be a good idea just now, what with Carnades thinking we’re forming our own league of darkness. Does he know about—”
Sarad Nukpana snorted. “Of course Carnades Silvanus knows about magical bonds, especially anything that could involve a goblin. His life’s goal is to wipe every one of us from the face of the earth. So what if we conquered, tortured, and enslaved thousands of elves—that was hundreds of years ago. Ancient history. Some people don’t know when to let go of a grudge.”
When I’d first met Carnades last week, he’d told me that he was an avid student of goblin history, and that only through knowledge can your enemy be defeated. To Carnades, every goblin was his enemy. Unfortunately a lot of powerful elves, mostly pure-blooded high elves and military types, felt exactly the same way. Part of me didn’t blame them; part of me actually sided with Sarad Nukpana. That was a scary thought.
“But elves have become more adept at protecting themselves over the centuries,” Nukpana noted. “They may even be more intelligent than their rather dim ancestors.” He sighed nostalgically. “It’s not as easy to defeat and enslave elves as it used to be.”
Cancel that. I agreed with Carnades, at least as far as eradicating this particular goblin was concerned.
Eamaliel’s eyes met mine. “Raine, you have an umi’atsu bond with the chief shaman for the House of Mal’Salin—”
“ Former chief shaman,” I hurriedly corrected him.
“To those such as Carnades Silvanus, that technicality makes no difference.”
“And if I’m in this bond, the Saghred is in it.” I didn’t ask it as a question; I knew the answer.
“Unfortunately correct,” he said softly.
I plopped down in the chair. “Carnades is gonna love this. He’ll get me and Tam on the executioner’s block in one fell swoop.”
And possibly Mychael along with us.
A prickle of cold panic ran up my back. The walls of my room were fading and the gray void was seeping in.
My father swore. “You’re waking up. Have a care, daughter.” His voice was fading, as was he. “And trust your instincts.”
Sarad Nukpana’s mocking laughter came as if from far away. “You can’t trust anyone else.”
I woke up, came to, whatever, as my eyes blinked their way open—and told me nothing. It was dark. I think I was under a blanket or cloak; however, I didn’t feel any manacles on my wrists. Good to know. I was also upside down, over someone’s shoulder, and that someone was moving fast. It felt like all the blood in my body had converged between my ears. My carrier adjusted my weight with a grunt. I knew that grunt. Vegard. If he was moving that fast and had to hide me under a cloak, yelling for him to put me down probably wouldn’t be a good idea. I opted for pounding my hand once on his armored back to at least let him know I was conscious.
He responded by tightening his hold on my legs and running faster. That didn’t fill me with the warm and fuzzies about our situation.
“Stop!”
The sharp command came from in front of us. I heard steel being drawn from all around us. My blanket fell off, but I still couldn’t see jack squat.
Footsteps echoed on stone, leisurely walking toward us. Then they stopped. A voice spoke, his words calm, his expectation nothing less than Vegard’s complete cooperation.
“Give her to us, or
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