Page 35 of To Kill a King
“I’m beginning to think those elves accompanying Aliya may be more competent than I expected.” Too much so. “What will I do if I can’t retrieve her?” If he couldn’t access her power for his artificers’ new weapons? His hand stilled as lead congealed in his gut. If that was the case, the war was lost.
The cat opened her eyes and pouted at him. When he didn’t resume petting her, she flicked her whiskers and redirected her focus to the garden below.
Malkov sighed. “I wish you were human. You’re the only one I can trust. You’ve never let me down, my one, true friend. You’d bring Aliya back for me, wouldn’t you?”
Shadow’s tail swished against the railing as though agreeing with him before she jumped down and strolled into a darkened corner of the balcony.
He turned his attention from the cat and glanced at the sky. Perhaps his wife could be reasoned with. Everyone wanted the chance to contribute to saving the world, right?
He rubbed his hands up and down his forearms. The energy he’d taken from the mages at the college tingled as it danced over his skin. He’d intended it to be used to infuse more of his new weapons, but if he could use a small amount to dream walk and convince her to return of her own free will, it would be power well spent.
He brushed the energy from his arms as though wiping off cobwebs and crushed it into a tiny ball between his palms. Keeping Aliya’s form firmly in mind, he tossed the magic on the balcony floor by the railing.
Light flashed with a pop of released pressure in his ears.
Aliya stood several paces away with her back to him. She frowned as she turned her head left and right. “El? Zadé?” She glanced at the stars above, and the edge of her frown pulled up into a smile.
“Mrow?” Shadow jumped onto the banister and stared at her expectantly.
Malkov scowled, biting back the growl that rumbled in his throat. Traitor cat.
“Hello, pretty. What’s going on?” She scooted forward, threading her fingers through the animal’s scruff. Shadow’s purr carried through the air as Aliya wrapped her in a hug and buried her face in the black fur.
“Aliya.” He stepped up beside her, resting his hands against the balcony rail and staring into the darkened gardens below.
She startled.
A smile stretched across his face as warm satisfaction spread through his gut. “I’ve summoned you via dream walking so we can have a conversation.” Unfortunately, the spell was only temporary, at best lasting for just a few minutes. He needed to be quick or the magic would run its course and she’d disappear again.
Shadow leaped down and scurried into the darkness.
“Do you remember the last time we stood here?” he asked. The night before their wedding—when he’d been less than twenty-four hours away from setting everything in the realm to right.
She gulped.
He nodded. “I see you do. I meant what I said that night, and I don’t find this stunt you’ve pulled amusing at all.” His stomach tensed at the thought of his nobles laughing behind his back. Great King Malkov…left at the altar by his blushing bride. The outer corners of his lips tightened.
She squinted and glared at him. “Why did you wed me then?”
He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t have to marry someone to steal their power. You proved that when you massacred everyone at the Mage College.”
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. A burning sensation erupted in his chest, flaring through his muscles as he ground his teeth. Forcing himself to unclench his fists, he took a deep breath. “Reappropriated, Aliya. Magic I reappropriated. For use in the war, as is my right as king.”
She gestured to the north. “You gave up all the land around Taldea Pass, and control of the Northern Port, in exchange for my hand. If you only wanted my magic, why didn’t you just take it?”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand the subtleties of politics.” He groaned and stared at the heavens. “The elves attack our borders every week.”
She raised her eyebrow. “I know.”
“They steal our food, kidnap our women and eat our babies.”
Pressing her lips into a frown, she shoved her hands into her pockets. “They’re not all like—”
He sliced one hand down through the air, cutting her off. “What would you know of it? Have you ever been to a battlefield? Surveyed the site of a recent raid?”
“Well, no.”