The large owlbear looks at me with trepidation in his eyes. He even shifts a little, as if to take a step backwards. I send him soothing reassurance down the Bond.

  You did not exaggerate, he projects, his words ‘blurry’ in the way that those who are unfamiliar with communicating with others often are. Our battle would not have ended with my success.

  “No,” I agree. “But you saw sense and we didn’t fight so everything is fine. Now, will you let me look at the talisman that binds you to this place?”

  Yes, the yelna replies, standing very still as I come closer. Getting so close to that serrated, blood-stained beak and those vicious claws would be reckless if not for the Bond that prevents him from dealing harm to me. But then, I surround myself with dangerous predators. Speaking of…

  Thanks for the assist, Kalanthia, I project. She’s still standing a bit of a distance away, cleaning herself in a way that distinctly reads of smugness.

  My pleasure, she responds with a rumble. I wish I could have intervened earlier, but several of the beasts remained alive within the rock – if I had left them to their own devices, their strength might have destabilised part of the cliff.

  They’re all dead now, though?

  Oh, very, she rumbles, though the sound is almost a purr. I shall pull out their caracasses for you.

  Thank you, I tell her, a little surprised at the offer. We’ve come a long way since I needed to bribe Kalanthia with Cores for every little thing, but she still generally needs to be asked. Perhaps this mission is having more positive effects than I thought it would. I make a mental note to do something nice for her later to say thank you.

  Meanwhile, I busy myself with inspecting the talisman, both physically and with my Skill.

  Finally, Inspect Item is starting to be useful, giving me more details than those I have already been able to conclude for myself. Destroy the heart, eh?

  That would normally be a death sentence. As I experienced with Kalanthia, even a Tier three still needs its heart to function – a Tier two would die for sure. But with me around…. I wish Alyna or Hunter were here, though – they might know what a destruction rune could do and if there’s anything else I need to be wary about. It’s not one of those I am familiar with.

  Unfortunately, both of them are out of range of communication in words. The best I could do would be to press an impression of the rune into our Bond and send them a sense of question, but I’m not sure that the answer I’d get would be of any use – or that the question itself might not worry them unnecessarily.

  Instead, I look up at Sorya, hoping that she might have some knowledge of runes.

  “Are you at all familiar with talismans? Or destruction runes?”

  The mage comes closer, sending another disturbed glance at where the lava is still red and steaming. Then she focuses on the talisman in my hand.

  “Talismans, no, though I know of their existence. Destruction runes, however…it’s sometimes necessary to use them in rifts to destroy the anchor.”

  “Then would you have any advice about dealing with the destruction rune that’s tied into this talisman? It seems that it’s supposed to destroy the heart in revenge if it’s destroyed.”

  Sorya’s mouth presses into a line.

  “Then that is what it will do. Destruction runes are powerful and very hard to block.”

  “But will it be satisfied if it attempts to destroy the heart and fails, or will it continue working to do so until it’s achieved the goal?” I press.

  The mage shrugs.

  “It depends on how much power was committed to it, and the type of reagent used to create it. I’m sorry, my lord, but I cannot give you a clearer answer than that.”

  “Thanks anyway,” I sigh, knowing little more than I did before. I fix the yelna with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry – it seems like we’re just going to have to wing this.”

  The owlbear lifts his head proudly.

  I knew the probable result when I accepted your chain. All I ask is that you seek to repay what has been done to me when you meet my binder.

  “Hey, we’re not giving up yet,” I remind him. “There’s still hope.”

  Sorya sends me an incredulous look, but since she hasn’t seen what I can do, I ignore it.

  “OK, everyone, let me concentrate, please. This is going to be tricky,” I warn my party. “Sorya, when I say, now, please destroy the talisman.”

  She hesitates for a moment and then she steps forwards, wariness in her expression. I suppose she doesn’t have the guarantee that I do, coming close to the owlbear.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  I close my eyes and start to sink my awareness inside the yelna.

  “Sorya–” I cut myself off and my eyes fly open as alarm sweeps through the Bond. “Wait!” I exclaim as her hand tightens around the talisman. Since my wings are still sprouting from my back, I leap into the air straight from my crouch, beating upwards frantically.

  As I rise above the cliff top, I spot the source of the alarm: Noir, who had returned to crouching on the top of the cliff, is now thrashing inside a net of light, pain and fear shuddering through the Bond as he panics.

  Noir is under attack! I shout through the network. Everyone who can, come and help!

  Meanwhile, I shoot towards the one attacking him – a dark-haired woman dressed in robes. She’s holding a carved wooden orb from which the lines of lightning-like magic are extending. And her other hand is holding a shield against the flashes of fire Sirocco is battering her with. A look of irritated concentration is on her face.

  Gripping currents of air, the easiest magic to do while flying, I try to rip the orb from the woman’s grip.

  Her eyes fly to pin themselves on me, their deep sapphire-like blue sparkling with fury. She clenches her hand on the orb and I can’t wrench it free. I snarl at her. If she won’t give it to me, I’ll destroy it instead.

  Using the same line of air magic that has been trying to prise the orb from her, I send down a current of fire, just as the woman begins to speak with incomprehensible words.

  She wasn’t expecting that and gives a shriek as the fire engulfs her hand, and her fingers spasm. My air hook succeeds in dragging the orb out of her grip and, as she loses contact with it, the net around Noir disappears. Sirocco dives at her and begins assailing her with claws and beak.

  But she has her own tricks and a bubble shield pushes Sirocco away just as an inexorable force sucks at me. I slam towards the ground, impacting it heavily. Pain shoots through me – at least two ribs are broken, possibly more. I just use Sensation Management to dull the pain down and fight against the pull. With more leverage, I manage to force myself up to my knees.

  The mage smirks down at me, ominous yellow light growing around her right hand, the bubble shield still keeping Sirocco away.

  “You’re going to regret interfering with me, hunter,” she threatens.

  I give my own bloody smile.

  “Or perhaps it’s the other way around, mage,” I return, wheezing a bit. She releases the yellow light and I roll quickly to the side to avoid it. I hold in a cry as the edge of it lashes my foot, the yellow light making it feel as though it has been flayed and then dipped in boiling, salty water.

  But she wasn’t the only one building up an attack. She shrieks in surprise as the earth bucks under her feet and sends her stumbling to her knees. Rock reaches up to encase her hands and feet, keeping her pinned there. The shield is still in place, but Sirocco dive-bombs it, understanding that any shield can only take so much abuse before it shatters.

  The mage pays her no heed, instead glaring at me with those deep blue eyes,

  “You’ve assaulted a member of a noble House, hunter!” she snaps. “I’ll have you in a collar for this!”

  “Well, if we’re pulling rank, you’ve assaulted the heir to a Great House, mage,” I snap back at her.

  “What?” she demands weakly, suddenly looking uncertain.

  Just then, the cavalry arrives. A horde of beasts interspersed with humans suddenly surrounds us. Sulir and Nurisoth come to me and help me to my feet – the effects of the gravity spell or whatever it was are still strong. But specific to me – it doesn’t affect them. Bastet, Fenrir, Lathani, and Catch all stand protectively between me and the mage. Sirocco rises back into the air, deeming the situation under control.

  “Are you well, my lord?” Sulir asks anxiously. I send a wave of magic through my body.

  “Just a few broken bones and a lot of bruising,” I tell him with a shrug. “Nothing I can’t fix.” He gives me a long look that seems to politely question my sanity, but doesn’t say anything. I immediately get to working on my injuries, as I reach out to Noir. Are you OK? I ask him anxiously.

  I ache, he whimpers and I curse quietly.

  Will you watch to make sure the mage doesn’t try anything? I ask the others.

  They agree with varying degrees of bloodthirstiness – she attacked one of our own and we’re not going to just forgive her for that. I turn and head to where Noir is collapsed in a heap where the net released him.

  I pause healing my own injuries to check on him, clearing out the remnants of shocking mana that remain in his system. He sighs in relief as I do that, and then relaxes even further when I heal the slight burns that have occurred within his body. That net was definitely lightning-based and clearly designed to incapacitate more than kill.

  Feel better? I check. Noir sends me a glorious sense of relief.

  Much, he agrees. I stroke his head a few times, sending him my own relief that he has suffered no permanent harm. Given everything he’s undergone in his short life, I hate it when he suffers more.

  Are you OK, Sirocco? You didn’t hurt yourself when battering that shield, did you? She circles down to land on my shoulder.

  A little bruised, perhaps, she agrees. I quickly heal those but she remains perched on me. I stroke her breast feathers in appreciation for her aid.

  Glancing over at the cliff, I see two new additions – a ledge of stone, and two loads of vines. I guess I have both Kalanthia and the still-nameless yelna to thank for everyone getting here so quickly. I send them both my wordless appreciation. Kalanthia replies with warm satisfaction; the yelna replies with uncertainty. He’s actually still at the foot of the cliff – the talisman must prevent him from joining us.

  With all the injuries dealt with, including my own, I head back to where the mage is still pinned in place.

  Sorya strides close to meet me halfway.

  “My lord!” she starts in a quiet but urgent tone. “This is Mage Worddelver – I know her from the guild. We trained in the same academy for a while. She’s more than a little…scatterbrained, but the quality of her research has made her a rising star there and kept her in high standing with the Deepdelves, despite her…quirks. She’s not in the line of succession but, if you kill her, the Deepdelves won’t be happy!”

  “I wasn’t planning on killing her,” I assure Sorya, then step through the line of my companions, stroking Bastet, Lathani, and Fenrir in thanks as I go. The mage is still encased in my stone, but she’s no longer fighting it. Her braided black hair is mussed and her sapphire eyes gaze at me with apprehensive speculation. “Are you going to fight any more or can I let you go?” I ask her with a raised eyebrow.

  “I won’t fight…my lord,” she replies a little tentatively.

  Touching the magic of the earth through my feet, I release the bindings around her hands and feet. She stretches them with obvious relief and then pushes herself to her feet. My companions press a little more closely, making it clear that if she makes one wrong move, she’ll have to answer to their claws and teeth.

  “Might I know the identity of my…sparring partner?” she asks politely.

  “The one you attacked, you mean?” I correct with raised eyebrows. I wait until she nods reluctantly – admission of the attack puts her in the weaker position now she knows she’s dealing with another noble. And technically, I attacked her first – except for the fact that, as a Tamer, my Bonded are considered in many ways to be extensions of myself. It could be argued either way – though as the higher-ranking noble, I suspect I’d win it. “I am Lord Markus, heir of Titanbend,” I introduce myself. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to my new identity, not in the way I was accustomed to being Markus Wolfe, but it doesn’t feel as embarrassingly awkward as it used to.

  She pales and I overhear a muttered ‘oh gods’ that I don’t think I was meant to catch.

  “Now,” I continue, crossing my arms and glaring down at the shorter mage. “Care to explain why you attacked one of my companions?”

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