The Banished of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood, #1)(62)

There was a rift in the mountains, a trail leading up to a lower pass. Their destination.

Maia?

The voice in her mind startled her and sent her slamming back into her body. It had been hours since they had left the king’s camp, and she could feel the grogginess in Collier’s thoughts.

Maia, where are you?

As he awoke, she could sense his surroundings. He was still in the tent, jostled awake by one of his guards, who had grown alarmed by his long silence. Through the kystrel around his neck, she could feel his growing fear, which he quickly mastered. She had guessed as much earlier, but here was the proof. The magic had bonded them together. He took a cup offered by his brother and drank it quickly. He gave some curt orders, for the men were restless.

“Where is Lady Marciana?” someone asked him.

It was so strange, feeling like she was still in the tent with him when she was hours away. He was sick with worry, wondering if linking himself to her had been a terrible mistake. She saw him as he was inside, saw the mixture of human feelings that he carefully guarded and concealed from others, but could not hide from her. She could strip his soul bare. It would be so easy. There was nothing he could do to protect himself. Yes, the kystrel gave him power—the ability to summon the Medium and command it to perform. But in return, it gave her absolute power over his mind, his thoughts, his feelings. His everything. She could bend him, twist him, make him into anyone she wanted him to be. She could . . .

Maia was horrified at the deliciousness of the feelings surging up inside her. At the welling hunger.

Maia?

His thoughts were timid. She could feel him reaching out to her, and it would be so easy to respond. It did not matter how many leagues separated them.

Their very souls were entwined because of the kystrel. When it had been wrenched from her neck, she had felt empty and anxious without it. But because he was wearing it, her powers were only magnified. The stain of the tattoo would grow on his chest now while hers started to fade. She could sense it vividly now, the mixing of their minds, the drawing together.

I sense you, he thought. Why will you not answer me? You are mounted and riding fast. It makes me a little . . . ill. How strange this feels. You can hear me? I sense that you can. Answer me.

He gave another curt order to someone and stormed out of the tent. She could feel his anger starting to throb, frustration mingling with it. He inspected his stallion’s saddle and then scolded the boy who had prepared it for doing it wrong. He touched his heart, covering the kystrel with his palm.

Maia, answer me! I sense you . . . east. You are riding to the mountains. One of the passes is very dangerous. You must not go there. There is a creature in the mountains. No one can kill it.

She wanted to get his thoughts out of her mind. She pulled her awareness away from his, feeling the jolt and shudder of the horse as it charged beneath her.

Maia stared at the mountain range. The air was crisp and lovely, the scent heavy with the smell of grass and earth. She stamped at the horse’s flanks, riding harder, faster, trying to escape the thoughts flitting through her mind. She had always loved horses and was an accomplished rider. A horse meant freedom, which is why her father had given all of hers away.

She would not answer Collier. Though that sick yearning inside her said otherwise, she did not want the ability to control him or root around inside his mind. He had been so reckless, not willing to recognize the danger of his actions. What would happen when she fell asleep? What would the Myriad One do to him through her?

No, she could not fall asleep—not just to save herself, but to protect him.

Behind her, she could hear Jon Tayt calling out, but his words did not fully reach her. Her cloak whipped about her shoulders, fanning out behind her like a banner. Tears stung her eyes from the wind beating against her face. Faster, she wanted to ride faster!

She had studied a Dochte Mandar’s tome about the hetaera. She had learned about them, been warned about them, but really . . . so little was commonly known about them, only tidbits chronicled by Dieyre before his death. She knew about the brand on the shoulder. She knew that once a hetaera gave her kystrel to a man, her powers increased. She had also learned that hetaera always betrayed those who held their kystrels. Betrayal was their favorite tool.

Maia, please! Answer me. What would you have me do? You said last night you would guide me. Do you want me to invade Comoros? Do you want me to topple your father?

Maia gritted her teeth, anguished by her feelings. She could use her powers to stop him. But using them would only increase the Myriad One’s sway over her.

She tried to shut him out of her mind. She tried to bury his thoughts away where she could not hear him. Maia kept her gaze fixed on the approaching mountains, the hulking snow-capped peaks and rugged edges. It was beautiful, yet she was filled with nothing but dread.

She knew that no matter how hard she rode, she could not escape Collier’s voice in her head. She would not be able to escape until she found an Aldermaston who could banish the Myriad One from her body.

Cruix Abbey. The thought burned in her mind like a seething coal from a fire pit. She had to reach the abbey without sleeping.

Yet why did that thought also bring with it a small throb of glee?





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE




Fear Liath

The air in the mountains sliced like knives with each frozen breath. Maia was grateful now that Jon Tayt had insisted she bring both gowns, for she had needed them for the arduous journey rising into the Peliyey Mountains. While the view from the valley below was majestic in its splendor, it had been a difficult climb, taxing both her strength and her determination.