“I don’t know how much longer I can fight her,” she whispered.
“Just hold on,” Alexander said. “I’m coming as soon as I can.”
She nodded into his shoulder. “Lacy’s here.”
Alexander held her out at arm’s length, new fear flooding into him. “Has she opened the box?”
Isabel shook her head. “I sent Wren to tell her the truth about everything and help her escape, but I don’t know if they got out. The last thing I remember was Phane beating me senseless for breaking his magic mirror.”
Alexander frowned questioningly.
“He used it to spy on us,” Isabel said. “When he turned his back on me, I smashed it. He was so mad, I thought he was going to kill me.”
“Fortunately, he doesn’t want you dead. You’re in bed right now, healing. Just focus on that.”
She nodded, slipping into his embrace again. “I wish you could stay with me.”
“Me too.”
He held her for a long time, content to be in her soothing presence, even if it was just a dream.
“There’s more,” she whispered, as if she was afraid of breaking the spell by talking too loudly. “Hector’s turned against us. He’s helping Phane retrieve the Goiri bones.”
“Why? Why would he do that?”
“Phane promised to bring his brother back from the dead.”
“Oh, Dear Maker,” Alexander said, looking up at the make-believe sky. “Hector better hope Phane doesn’t make good on that promise. It’ll be the worst thing that ever happened to him.”
Isabel stepped back, looking up at him. “Are you safe? Are you well?”
“Let’s just say I’m still alive and fighting,” he said with a reassuring smile. “I wish I could tell you more.”
“Me too, but I understand.”
“I have to go now. I love you, Isabel.”
“I love you too.”
“Be strong. We’re going to get through this. We’re going to win. Hold on to that, no matter what.”
“I will. Stay safe,” she said, as he faded from her dream.
Alexander rose above the fortress city, considering his next move, and deciding, perhaps against his better judgment, to visit Phane. Floating through a window in one of the upper levels of the black tower, Alexander found him standing in a magic circle set into the stone just adjacent to another magic circle. He was chanting under his breath, dark magic roiling in his colors.
Alexander appeared nearby without drawing his attention.
“Hey!”
Phane snapped out of his spell, power draining from his colors.
“Do you have any idea how many hours I spent on that spell?”
“I hope it was a lot,” Alexander said.
“I have nothing to say to you,” Phane snapped, gesturing dismissively.
Alexander felt his psyche scatter into the firmament, but this time it was different. Always before, he’d felt fear at being scattered, fear that he would become lost, that the firmament would claim him, but this time he knew better. But more than that, after his recent experience, he seemed to have much greater control of how he experienced the firmament.
Not more than a second after Phane sent him away, he reappeared, smiling.
“You’re losing your touch, Phane.”
The Reishi Prince looked at Alexander’s illusion with disbelief. For the first time Alexander saw something in Phane’s colors that gave him hope-he saw a faint glimmer of fear.
“How?” Phane demanded.
“I think I’ll just let you fret about that. I stopped by to let you know that I’ll be watching you and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“There’s where you’re wrong,” Phane said. “As I understand it, you’re sitting in a cage somewhere in Mithel Dour as we speak. It won’t be long before Nero brings you to me and then I’ll be able to do a great deal.”
“Nero overestimates himself, and the Babachenko has his own agenda-one that doesn’t seem to coincide with yours. I wouldn’t count on my arrival anytime soon.”
“I’m well aware of my servants’ limitations,” Phane said. “But I’m quite certain that both of them will do exactly as they’ve been instructed to do.”
“And both will fail,” Alexander said. “In fact, I put a knife into the Babachenko just a few hours ago. Tragically, I missed his heart by a couple of inches, but I did make him bleed. If I can kill their king and put a knife in the Andalian puppet master while I’m their prisoner, just imagine what I’m going to do to them once I escape.”
“Now who’s overestimating themselves? No, Dear Cousin, the Babachenko will hand you over to Nero and he will deliver you to me … and then your wife will kill you for me.”
“Speaking of Isabel, I see you’ve taken to beating women. I mean, I knew you were a coward and a thug, but really?”
“She behaved very badly, so I punished her. There’s a lesson to be learned there, Alexander. The price for peace is obedience.”
“So much for the Old Law,” Alexander said.
“Your precious Old Law is a relic. Times have changed and the law must change with them.”
“You miss the point of it entirely,” Alexander said, “The principles defined by the Old Law are timeless precisely because they are derived from our very nature. Only those who wish to abuse the life, liberty, or property of others need fear it.”
“It is you who fail to understand, I am the rightful sovereign, and as such, the lives, liberty, and property of every single person in the Seven Isles belong to me. You are the criminal. You stole the Stone from my father’s corpse and took my birthright with it. I will not rest until I get it back. I will have justice, Alexander.”
“You wouldn’t know justice if it hit you in the head,” Alexander said, fading into the firmament.
He thought of Lacy and found himself floating over a carriage escorted by at least a hundred of Phane’s soldiers, but before he could look inside, he snapped back into his body, pain flooding into him like a tidal wave.
He was convulsing, spasming from the constantly clenched muscles which were constricting his chest and nearly suffocating him. He struggled to impose order on himself, casting back to his memories of the mana fast and the trial of pain for guidance. It was an ordeal like few he’d ever endured, but he finally regained control over his body, realizing after he did that he needed to be present to manage the torment wracking his body or it would overwhelm him again.
When the Babachenko returned many hours later, left arm in a sling, Alexander was sitting on the edge of his bed. Most of the burning pain he’d suffered over the past day had subsided, leaving a raw, hollow feeling in his arms and legs. He sat calmly meditating.
He watched the Babachenko closely as his colors flowed from smug certainty through confusion, doubt, disbelief, and finally, fear.
“How’s the shoulder?” Alexander said, without opening his eyes or making any move to get up.
There was a long pause, the Babachenko scrutinizing Alexander as if he were trying to comprehend what had happened during the preceding hours, yet failing for lack of some crucial piece of information.
Alexander held up the collar, still clasped shut, and tossed it through the bars without opening his eyes. The Babachenko caught it, blinking with a mixture of disbelief and incredulity. Alexander was happy to see fresh fear ripple through his colors.
“How is this possible?”
Alexander ignored him, sitting quietly, legs crossed, eyes closed as if he was deep in meditation.
“The slave collars cannot be removed without the consent of the collar’s master, unless you had help. Who did this?”
Alexander chuckled softly, opening his eyes but not bothering to get up.
“I’ve heard rumors that you are bound to a fairy,” the Babachenko said, “but I never believed them.” He started casting a spell. It seemed to take a long time, his colors undulating with power, before he completed the spell and looked straight at Chloe sitting atop the cabinet, hiding in the aether.
“He can see you, Little One. Hide!”
She darted through the ceiling and out of the room, taking refuge in the small spaces where no one could follow.