Returning from Surclere, her small group had found almost the entire complement of Tyrland’s Sentene and more than half of the Hand waiting at Fenlis, the village abutting Darasum Park. Change your tactics. They weren’t certain this referred to the shield, but Lady Weston had wasted no time after reviewing the report Captain Faille had sent ahead about the projection. She would not risk a repeat of Asentyr.
Rennyn, stretching after a tedious round of casting, nodded brief farewell to Captain Illuma and fed the Sigillic until it shifted her into the cold embrace of the Eferum. Solace’s focus, now attached to a chain and heavy bracelet, immediately dragged at her hold and nearly slipped free of her fingers. It had taken a major step toward being one with the Grand Summoning, and she shuddered at the weight of power it allowed her to sense.
She’d prepared for an ambush by Eferum-Get, but the dark sea showed no unusual signs of life, and her divinations revealed only minor creatures some distance away. Perhaps, now that the Sentene were sealing these major breaches, there would be no more attempts at spectacular incursions.
Still cautious, Rennyn next triggered the divination which would measure the force approaching her. Soon. She cupped the vessel in both hands and waited, having no plans to linger a moment longer than necessary. The wave was coming.
And a tiny star came with it. Rennyn frowned, but it was not headed for her. A single Eferum-Get, one of the scaled and winged Darensi, was guiding a compact mote of tightly-wound Efera toward the forming breach. Some kind of casting? It looked like the hint to change tactics had been a warning that the Eferum-Get were about to alter theirs.
Knowing there was little chance of being able to return before that thing had gone through the breach, Rennyn concentrated on making the attunement, choosing the best moment rather than rushing. The younger focus pulled at her till she felt she was a fisherman who had hooked a whale. She would have to set her circle further from the breach next time, or risk being dragged in.
"Hello cousin."
As shock sent a cold spike down her spine, arms closed around her waist. And, far worse, two injunctions settled on her as he spoke, binding her from casting and moving. Immediately she tried to break them, to overwhelm them with her sheer strength, but they were an odd structure, layered as if she were wound in a thousand cords which flexed instead of snapping. She couldn’t stop Solace’s second son as he tightened his arms, pressing against her back.
"We have so much to talk of, cousin, but first I think a moment’s silence only appropriate. You must say goodbye to your little friends."
Rennyn couldn’t make the adjustment to look through the veil, couldn’t see what that mote was doing. She couldn’t even close her eyes. But the hot circle of power which was the shield abruptly flared and vanished, leaving her surrounded by darkness.
She pushed harder against the invisible bonds, feeling them stretch and fray. It would break, strand by strand if necessary, but the question was how much time she’d have to do it. Rennyn had never met an injunction so well built, its strength not drawn from any massive amount of power, but the intricacy of structure. What kind of mage was he? She’d not been able to detect his presence, but he had unerringly found her. She hadn’t had time to trigger even one of her defences. But he hadn’t killed her yet.
"How your heart is beating, cousin." The arms around her waist tightened further, and he rested his cheek against the side of her throat. She could feel his heart beating too. Fast. Excited.
"My name is Helecho," he continued, in a conversational tone. "I thought you should know. I’m going to have you, you see. You’re mine from the moment I walk into your world. You should know the name of the one who owns you."
With unhurried deliberation he undid the top four buttons of her shirt and pulled it loose at the throat, then began to kiss the side of her neck. The touch of his lips sent a blank incredulity through Rennyn, but the jolt woke a spark of hope. He wasn’t going to kill her, not right away at any rate. And no matter how well-built these injunctions, she had the advantage of strength. The longer he delayed, the more certain became her escape.
An injunction was an unequal battle of strengths. Structured magic was always stronger than the pure will of Thought casting which was the only recourse of a person under an injunction. Rennyn had been able to break Lady Weston’s injunction quickly because she was that much stronger than the Grand Magister, and the woman had not been prepared and so used a very straightforward Sigillic spell inscribed on a bracelet. This Helecho’s injunctions hadn’t used even half as much power as the Grand Magister’s, but their layers stretched instead of obligingly snapping.
Anger helped. All she was able to do was stand there while he nuzzled and licked her throat, his arms wrapping so tightly back around her waist her stomach felt bruised. It was revolting, infuriating. And then he freed one arm so he could slide a hand inside her shirt, beneath her thin camisole to fondle her breast. Outrage roared through her and she stoked it, concentrated it, fed it. Thought magic was as much will as raw strength, and the injunction was becoming badly frayed.
"I can’t promise to treat you well," he murmured, nipping lightly at her skin. His teeth were sharp. "Rather the opposite. But you mustn’t give in. Too dull, if you crumble straight away."
He was so pleased. Enjoyment of her situation radiated off him, and his excitement was reaching a fever-pitch as he bit her again and again, each time coming closer to breaking the skin. He squeezed her breast in painful accompaniment, twisting soft flesh cruelly, and made a little noise in his throat, one of triumph and satisfaction, and it was too much. It was enough.
Shedding fragments of the casting, Rennyn thrust him furiously away, and triggered one of the spells she’d prepared. The Efera all around her ignited, white fire blasting out into the darkness. Without pause she followed it with three expanding circles which would cut through anything, but they sliced into nothing. Unlike her, he could easily move through the Eferum.
"So powerful." The gloating words drifted out of the darkness, out of her reach. "I am going to enjoy you, little cousin."
Shuddering, Rennyn refastened her shirt as she tried to isolate from which direction the voice had come. "Not if I see you first, worm." She guessed a direction and spent her anger in a meaningless bolt of pure force, but there was no sign that she’d hit anything. This was his home ground and there was no value in lingering, so she made the shift back to the far side of the veil. And fell.
Strong arms caught her. Rennyn gasped, and clutched at an unseen shoulder, then stared about her. She’d forgotten the mote of worked Efera.
It was night, with a low sliver of moon. The carefully smoothed earth where she’d marked her circle was gone. Most everything was gone, replaced by a massive crater, a dozen feet deep in the centre. It covered a quarter of the lawn, shearing the stone-lined pool in two. The explosion hadn’t reached the house or even the rose garden, but dirt and stone had been flung in every direction, sparing little.