Free Sworn To Transfer by Terah Edun Page B

chin and glared, “I don’t even know what this is. But as long as it’s not going to bite me in the ass I will happily forget about it.”
    Staring into his empty glass miserably, the Duke looked like he wanted to get drunk at his own party.
    “You know your mother—Lily—was always getting into trouble. Just like you. But when she met a dragon and he tried to claim her even she knew to run,” the duke said in a mumble.
    “Wait, sir,” Ciardis said while grasping his forearm urgently. “You said my mother was running from a dragon? When?”
    He looked at her and said with a barely concealed bitterness. “Why child...right before she disappeared.”
    Ciardis stared at him, uncomprehending, for a moment. It upset her that her mother had been running from something. Running from a dragon even more so.
    “Well?” said the slightly drunk duke. Ciardis didn’t reply. She was weighing his words. He might have been a tad drunk, but she heard truth in them. The question was what to do about it. The dragon calling her a sarin could be pushed off as a mistake, but her mother’s disappearance was different. She needed to know more. Why had she truly left the courts?
    “I want to know more,” said Ciardis quietly. “I want to know everything about why my mother left court and I want to know now.”
    “Then you’re talking with the wrong person,” said the Duchess of Carne. She had quietly entered her husband’s protective shield and stood looking down at Ciardis with a sad smile on her face.
    “Come with me, Ciardis Weathervane,” she said. “It’s time someone told you the truth.”
    With a backwards glance as she followed the duchess, Ciardis caught sight of Prince Sebastian as he was preparing to leave. She’d have to catch him up on the events pertaining to the Duke of Cinnis another day.

Chapter 8
    M iles away on the road to the home of the kith , the Weather Mage was riding at a breakneck pace on a stallion built for long distances. Beside him, astride a horse of similar merit, rode the person the Weather Mage internally referred to as “the Shadow Mage.” Externally whenever he addressed the mage, he called him “Master.” He did it reluctantly. But he had learned swiftly in the few days they’d been together that the man would tolerate nothing less than absolute subservience.
    The Weather Mage was a man of pride as most mages were. The Shadow Mage had entrapped his mind with his magic and could control his actions with just a surge of his magic. It was humiliating and frustrating - rankling his pride like a dog with too many fleas. He constantly itched to throw off the yoke that hobbled him and had finally sought to revolt against the Shadow Mage one night. It had not gone well. As punishment the Shadow Mage had his dark, ink-like creatures carve into the skin of the Weather Mage’s back with claws made of shadows. They left his flesh torn and in bloody ruins, causing rivulets of blood to run down and his poor back to feel like it was on fire. After that he’d never talked back—not aloud. He couldn’t help his thoughts, and he suspected the Shadow Mage could hear them. But he never responded to them.
    They rode at a hard pace toward the only destination that this road led directly to: the Forest of Ameles. With a shudder the Weather Mage thought of what lay there: inhuman creatures with the powers of mages, creatures that could talk and were sentient. It made him ill to think about it. He had no hope of escaping once there. The creatures would eat him alive if he left the Shadow Mage’s side; after all, every mage knew the number one rule when entering the Forest of Ameles. Safety in numbers.
    Sighing, he bit his lip and hoped he could escape before the shadows inside of him erupted again. They were always there. A dark presence that invaded his magic and his mind. Occasionally the Shadow Mage would call upon the shadows to overtake his mind. Once he’d even ordered him asleep when he’d