Free Spirits of Light and Shadow (The Gods of Talmor) by India Drummond Page A

you for anything before. Only this.”
    Despite Graiphen’s cold and relentless stare, Korbin found his plea compelling. If he’d been weeping or babbling, Korbin might have helped him out of guilt, but not wanted to. Not that he wanted to now. No, everything told him to run, but this might be his last opportunity with his father. If he turned his back now, there may be no returning home till the end of his days.
    He sighed. “Okay. I’ll let the kitchen know there will be two for dinner. Or shall I say three? Will Tarsten stay?”
    “That snake? I wouldn’t eat with him if it was my final meal.”
    “Father, I believe he has tried to help. When I spoke with him and Eliam, they appeared genuinely concerned.”
    Graiphen shook his head pityingly. “He wouldn’t be much of a politician if he couldn’t make his concern seem genuine, would he?”
    “No,” Korbin said, mostly to avoid an argument. “You’re right.” Suddenly he felt sixteen and back in the same helpless position he’d been in all his life, conceding to his father’s demands.
    Just this one final thing , he told himself. Then I’m off for Iszle and never looking back. The words sounded hollow, even in his own mind, but there was little he could do. Walking away was no longer an option. Just this one thing.
     

Chapter 6
    Korbin’s day had been difficult and long, his father’s company no easier to bear now than two years before. The servants brought what Graiphen considered a simple meal, but what was, in fact, far richer food than Korbin was used to. They’d eaten in uncomfortable silence, every bite punctuating the difference between the past and present, widening the gulf between the two men.
    As planned, Graiphen faked a raging temper at the end of the meal, throwing a half-full decorative platter against the door. Korbin frowned at that. His mother had bought the piece in Domen when he was a small boy.
    Servants rushed in to clean up the mess, and Korbin pretended to restrain Graiphen in the adjacent sleeping chamber. Acting as though he was upset and dismayed wasn’t difficult. The servants understood when he asked to be left alone. They kept away from the family section of the house, creeping through the corridors, keeping out of sight. When the time came for Korbin and Graiphen to make their way to Graiphen’s study, they didn’t have any difficulty so long as Korbin moved ahead and signaled when the coast was clear.
    A couple hours after nightfall, he led his father out the back door and into the side streets. Graiphen wore simple clothing, but Korbin had to remind him to slouch. The man’s back was straight and his neck stiff, the bearing of a soldier and someone who expected others to get out of his way.
    As they moved through the streets, Graiphen’s condition began to rear its head. He snapped and muttered, stumbling on occasion. When Korbin slowed, Graiphen hissed, “keep going” from beneath his hood.
    Korbin encouraged his father to lean on him, as though drunk. The ruse wasn’t comfortable for either man, but it looked more natural and would explain anything an onlooker might find odd.
    Over the last half of the journey toward the temple district, Korbin realized he didn’t know this man at all. He felt less kindly disposed to him than he would a stranger. Their blood was the only thing that bound them.
    Korbin’s thoughts turned to Octavia. She would probably say blood was the only thing that could bind two people. He winced when he recalled the “root blood” she had taken from him to break the curse. Of course Graiphen hadn’t said so much as a simple “thank you” for the sacrifice.
    The temple district was dark and quiet at that late hour. Some temples would conduct nighttime rituals on occasion, but fortunately, none were being held that night. It was as though fate had intervened to make one aspect of this unbearable situation somewhat easier. For that, Korbin was grateful.
    “We’re here,” he