Page 58 of Daemon Master

His bond with Lockrod appeared normal at first glance. However, when he tried to summon or communicate with the daemon, he found their link blocked. It wasn’t quite what he’d experienced with Heartrender’s bondstone—that had been like an invisible barrier erected between them. This felt moreamorphous, as if he lacked a good enough grasp on his aether to access Lockrod’s bond.

The more he struggled, the more dread stole over him. Even cycling aether through his body proved impossible. That explained the aching muscles and addled mind. His body was so used to the extra strength imparted by his aether that, suddenly stripped of it, he felt like an invalid. He couldn’t even muster enough to reach out with his aethersense.

He fought down a rising tide of panic. He was still alive, which was more than he’d expected. And unless he’d gravely miscalculated, Kali, the Serenity Corp agent who’d hunted him for months, had perished. If he could accomplishthat, then he could find a way out of this new predicament. Staggering to his feet, he set about searching his cell.

An hour later, he wobbled back to his sleeping mat to rest his whirling head.So much for optimism.Whatever was suppressing his aether hadn’t faded, at least not to any noticeable degree, and the walls and door were solid despite their worn appearance. Spirits above, what was he going to do?

He didn’t know how long he lay curled there, but eventually, a rasping click came from the door. He sat up too quickly and had to lean forward as he waited for his vision to stabilize. A figure slipped inside, shutting the door behind them. Once the room had stopped spinning, he glanced up and saw it was a woman. Her graying hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her wrinkled face glared at him with obvious mistrust.

His patience reached its limits. “Where am I?” The words came out a croak. “Who are you?”

The woman’s disapproving scowl deepened. She huffed, turning away. At first, he feared she was going to leave him here alone again, but then she set something down on the small table—a platter of food, with a cup to drink from. He hadn’t even noticed her carrying it.

When he tried to sit up, the woman whipped around, raising a finger in warning. “Don’t! I like you right where you are, spirits have mercy. You can eat your fill once I leave.”

She moved to do just that.

“Wait!” he called. “Please.”

The woman paused, her hunched back toward him.

He swallowed and did his best to gather his addled thoughts. “If you won’t tell me about yourself, at least tell me what happened. The last thing I remember, I was dying in the forest.”

Sighing, she turned back to him, though she kept a hand pressed to the door. “It was a near thing. If you hadn’t called that friend of yours for help, you’d probably be daemon chow.”

Called for help?Spirits above, what didthatmean? He sorted through the hundred different questions he had for the most pressing. “When you say ‘my friend,’ do you mean Seymour?”

She jerked a nod, and some of the coiled tension in him eased. Though he still didn’t understand how it was possible, it sounded like Seymour might not have abandoned him after all.

“Aye, him,” the woman continued unhappily. “Insisted on rushing to your aid and dragged poor Xander along to do it!” She eyed him as though he should be ashamed of that fact.

The name sounded vaguely familiar. It took him a moment to recall the kid they’d rescued from Souleater. “Is Xander a member of your…group?” This woman couldn’t be part of the Watcher Division, not when she bore no weapons and wore a woven shawl rather than armor. Did she live in a small village like Hillvale bordering Overlin Forest?

She ignored his question. “Xander, bless his naïve heart, thought he owed you, and now you’reourmess to deal with. We should’ve turned you away, but Elana’s too gentle a soul.”

Elana. Was that the name of their leader? He filed the knowledge away for future reference. “Thank you for tending to my wounds. Is that why I feel so weak?”

The woman snorted. “That’ll be the Suprimera tea. No long-lasting effects, but it stops you from accessing aether.” She gave him a stern look. “I’ll be back later to make sure you take another dose. The last thing we need is a daemon master running amok.”

He frowned at the way she saiddaemon master, like it was a curse. Practically everyone over the age of thirteen in the League unlocked their aether to bond their first daemon.

Letting the unusual comment slide, he asked, “And my daemons? Are they okay?”

“As if a daemon master like you actually cares. I assume they’re caged inside you, as usual.”

Caged?Maybe it was his suppressed aether, but he felt like he’d missed some vital part of this conversation. “My daemons aren’t my prisoners. They’re my friends.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Friends?What kind of twisted joke is that?” Fury made her forget her earlier caution, and she stepped away from the door, jabbing a finger at him. “You daemon masters are all the same, thinking you have the right to own another creature. Well, you don’t!”

“It’s not like that!” he protested. “Our daemonschoseto bond with us. As equals.”

“Your friend claimed the same rubbish. No doubt it’s yet another lie to justify your kind’s lust for power. Daemons were meant to remain free, same as us.”

Her dismissal left him strangely angry. Here he was, risking his life to defy Serenity Corp, and this woman had thegallto lump him in with them.

He opened his mouth to continue arguing, but she spoke first.

“Save your words. They’ll do you no good—not with me.” She turned toward the door.