As his curses retake him, Baldur winces. The rest of my drakes and Lærke come around the chaise now, seeing what’s happening, and Bjorn growls, dark. I quite agree, everything inside me on high alert now as my inner drakaina lashes her tail.
Because the one thing Baldur was supposed to be for us was an unshakeable light to our careening darkness, rampant in our bond because of the vast Bone Magic we possess.
His sudden loss of faith, ever since the Black Dragon cursed him, has undone all that for us. We need to get to the bottom of it, soon; because whatever plagues him undermines his belief in himself, and us, so thoroughly as to cause this creeping darkness I now feel inside him.
We have to address it, before it gets much worse. Or it will devour all of us right along with him, as I watch the Usurper’s curses lick out another quarter-inch along his flesh.
And feel the way they drain us all—to death.
12
SOUL
As Baldur shuts me out, preventing me from understanding what’s going on with him right now, I narrow my eyes on him. My inner dragons roar that he’s withholding something from our Bloodbond; I tense as he squeezes my hand in reassurance, everything inside me rigid.
As a low growl slips from me, dominance challenging him now as my dragon-energy roars up around me in the library hall, Baldur’s eyebrows lift in surprise. I don’t take it back, however. We’re life-mated now; we have to discuss what’s happening with him and why he feels the need to block it from me and the rest of my drakes.
No matter how much of a hermit Baldur was for a thousand years, he needs to know he’s not alone anymore. If he can’t play ballwithme and my drakes, going rogue with his power and doing only what he feels he needs to inside our bond, that’s just not going to work for me.
It will not work, period—because so many lives depend on our bonded power.
Not just his alone.
A tense moment passes between us as I feel Baldur wrangle his innerdrake away from rising to my sudden challenge. As he takes a moment to smooth his energy back down, he doesn’t cease shutting me out, or apologize.
Although pain sparks in his deep blue eyes with a quick flash of crimson anger, to hear me growl at him, he holds his ground. I don’t give in, either, because he’s putting all our lives at risk by hiding secrets and I just don’t tolerate that shit.
Even though we need to talk about Hedda’s scrolls right this moment, I know it’s long past time Baldur and I had words.
Which I fully intend to do now—no more waiting.
“Alright. We need to address this shit one issue at a time,” I say tersely now, as I pull my hand from his. My move is subtle, but lets him know my severe displeasure with all his secrecy bullshit. I stare him down hard now, letting him know that we are going to circle back around to why he’s hiding shit from me. But first thing’s first.
“So you believe you’ve found something useful in Hedda’s scrolls?” I prompt him now as I watch him.
“I’ve found something I believe gives us a chance against the Black Dragon, yes.” Baldur smiles at me, though his smile is tense now, uncertain, as he feels my ire. “I was able to dream-read your Ancestor’s scrolls while I slept, Rikyava. Keeping a part of my mind and aura here to focus on them and evaluate them, even as I rested out in the Void.”
“What have you found?” I ask him point-blank now, because I need my hermit-turned-lover to communicate with me, not hold back.
“Actually… I believe I’ve discovered your Ancestor was quite mad, Rikyava.” Baldur breaks eye contact with me now to nod at the scroll that’s open upon the gargantuan silver mirror-stone. “From what I’ve evaluated so far, Hedda was an insanely magically literate Bloodwalker shamaness. She knew things about the stars and their alignment, the movement of auric winds in the Void, and about sigil-binding those forces into objects here on earth that I could only imagine in my wildest dreams. It’s been illuminating, to evaluate what must have been her masterwork, preparing all her calculations and ceremonies to bind the Dragon of All Souls into its flesh. And also… terrifying.”
“Terrifying, how?” I watch him intently, because I can’t feel his emotions through our bond right now, so I have to watch for physical tells instead.
“Hedda’s work is like a puzzle, in a painting, in 3D.” Baldur frowns, pensive now, as he watches the scroll. “Like a magic eye picture, where there is far more to be seen in every layer, I keep having toadjust my consciousnessto even come close to understanding what she’s saying in every phrase of sigil-binding she created. It’s not… putting myself someplace nice in the Void, to figure it all out.”
“What do you mean?” I push him now, as my drakes all listen to the conversation with me, intently.
A deep wariness shared between us, at what Baldur’s just said.
“I have to… put myself someplace dark, to evaluate this creation,” Baldur says quietly now as he watches the scroll like he’s entranced, then blinks hard, looking back at me. “Someplace where the cosmos loses all light.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound good.” As Ström crosses his arms, he looks at me, his emerald gaze piercing. “Are you sure it’s safe for him to be looking these things over, considering his condition, being cursed right now by the Black Dragon?”
“Baldur?” I press him, pinning him with my gaze, intense.
“I’ll be fine. I can handle it,” he says with a stubborn streak, not all that different from Bjorn’s. Behind me, Bjornharrumphs, as I feel his energy get beyond furious, knowing Baldur’s holding out on us.
Because all of us can feel how Baldur’s not letting us understand how this process might be dangerous for him. Everyone maintains their silence, however, letting me grill Baldur on all this alone just yet.
