Page 46 of Twisted Bonds
The voice in my head is haunting and shrill.
And then the sight is gone, and I’m just Dan’thiel sitting alone too far away to help anyone. My head finds my palms.
I hope I can get the Guardians on my side before it’s too late.
twenty-one
Mira
As I finish a surprisingly decadent breakfast of fresh-baked toast, sausage links, baked beans, roasted tomatoes, mushrooms, and two sunny side up eggs, I’m so stuffed I waddle back to my lounge chair. The pain in my leg is considerably less today, more like an annoying, dull ache. I groan with regret from over-indulging.
When I’m eating, when I’m hurting from being so full, I’m not thinking about Yurghen or the Keepers of the Portal. I’m not thinking about what dangers could find Bobble or Sunder. I really need to find a better hobby. A better distraction.
Just as the thought flits through my mind, Callum knocks on the door. I know it’s him when I call for him to enter because he’s the only person in this entire fortress with the manners to do so. Even the servant girl just barges in, whether or not I’m half naked.
His gentle face brings a smile to my lips as he takes a seat beside me. The scent of peppermint and old books follows him into the room, bringing an unexpected comfort. His gaze flickers to the remnants of my breakfast. A teasing smile plays at the edges of his lips. “I see who the favorite is around here. All I got was toast.”
“Oh.” A knot of guilt forms in my belly. “Are you still hungry? I can ask for more.”
He waves me off with a smile. “I’m fine. Besides, in this remote area, I’d guess food stores need to last a long time. Who knows how much longer we’ll be here?”
It hadn’t occurred to me that there might be a rationing situation going on. My table is always packed full of treats and hearty foods. Not only does the girl bring me three feasts a day, but she also slips in an afternoon tea service with those delicious little finger sandwiches and a tray of desserts after dinner, which is my favorite. My sweet tooth hits hard right before bed.
My eyes drift down, a twist of guilt settling.
“Why the glum face?”
I shrug, but don’t answer. He raises an eyebrow at me, prodding. Finally, I say, “I just didn’t realize… about the food. I thought they were trying to fatten me up like a goose for a foie gras, but maybe I have some hedonistic tendencies.”
In more ways than one. Images of my nights spent basking in pleasure sandwiched between Bobble and Sunder send a flush to my cheeks. If I were to bond with all four of them…
“He’s rich and powerful. I doubt there are any true concerns about food, Mira. He can just wave a hand to make more appear, I’m sure. You deserve a little hedonism in your life.”
Callum’s words bring a small smile back to my face. But I can’t shake off the guilt entirely. I decide to change the subject, but before I can open my mouth, Callum’s face turns downward. “I wish I could provide that for you.”
His voice is soft and sad. Instinctively, I reach for his hand. His gaze meets mine as we link fingers. “I don’t need much to be happy, Callum. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I enjoy luxury as much as the next person. I had a good job before coming here. I could afford whatever experience or impulse purchase I wanted, within reason at least. But those things turned out to be empty and kind of sad when I had them. I wanted someone to share them with. Money and power don’t mean much by themselves.”
He shrugs, a bit sheepishly. “I don’t expect to have either. Money is a necessary evil. I’m happy to live a small, simple life. And power… the thought of channeling turns my stomach. I don’t want it.”
I picture Callum living as a farmer or carpenter in some small village where he knows everyone’s name. That suits him somehow, but the last part surprises me. “You don’t want Chroma back?”
His head shakes emphatically. “It corrupts people more than money ever could.” Idly, his fingers stroke the scar along his chin, a mixture of a thoughtful gesture and reminding himself of something painful.
His words strike a chord in me. I’ve seen the corruption of power back in my own world. The way it twists people into something unrecognizable, something monstrous. But here, in this world, it seems to hold a different weight.
Our linked hands rest on the small table between our chairs, the comfort of our shared touch a balm to wounds we both hold deep within. I nod at his words, understanding his sentiment. “Power can be a heavy burden to bear.”
“And it’s not only the power, Mira.” His voice is low and serious. “It’s what comes with it - the responsibility, the fear of making mistakes… and always being judged by others.”
A shadow crosses his face as old memories surface, and I can’t help but reach out to brush an errant lock of hair away from his eyes. He blinks in surprise before giving me a small, grateful smile, the intimacy of the moment making my heart flutter.
“Just remember, Callum,” I murmur, my fingers still entwined with his, a tender tether between us. “You’re not alone anymore. You have me now.” I swallow hard, daring to meet his gaze head-on. “And however things turn out, we’ll face them together.”
Callum’s hand falls away like a wilted rose, the once tender gesture now a thorny reminder of something troubling. His expression shifts to something somber, and he won’t meet my questioning gaze.
“I have a piece of you, but I’ll never have all of you.”
His words strike like a blow, leaving me momentarily winded. I struggled with the same thing when I first met Sunder, but he and Bobble were so at ease with the idea I learned to let go of that worry. Hearing it again shatters a makeshift peace I built inside me.