The Bonds That Break Us by Erin Mainord

Author:Erin Mainord [Mainord, Erin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lake Country Press & Reviews LLC
Published: 2024-03-04T18:30:00+00:00

No one in this odious city can resist the call of a public address it seems; the townsmen and women flock to the market center like unruly geese. The cobblestone streets leading to the event are packed in with bodies, entrances to the small shops blocked with the crowd, and the roads now unsuitable for horse travel.

The four of us watch from inside the belfry, the vantage point granting us a decent view over the attraction, though it is too far to see anyone clearly, and too far for sound to travel, even for Sin and Eldridge. Gerard loaned us a standing mirror from his private quarters, and Eldridge hauled it up here earlier, its glass a perfect surface for scrying.

The mirror appears to be crafted from solid mahogany, polished into a dark glossy brown, and carved vein-ridden leaves run across the top and down the sides. It isn’t long before Dusaro takes his place on the center dais, Ileana and Aldred flanking him on either side. I catch glimpses of armored guards mingled throughout the crowd, and more posted at the start of every street leading to and from the event.

Sin hovers his hand above the mirror, and the glass turns frosted. A moment later, the frost dissipates, Sin’s magic agitating that in Ileana’s ring, and the glass becomes a reflection of everything the Hand sees. Residents crowd the dais, and bodies continue squeezing into the circle from the side streets. It isn’t often the kingdom makes public addresses, and especially not on short notice. The city dwellers know something is amiss, and they’re starved for new gossip to spread amongst the high-ranking families. Anyone not present will know everything spoken by the end of day, though the facts will likely be delivered in various shades of truth by the time the final rays of sunlight vanish beyond the mountains.

A mane of long, straight hair—as dark and shiny as tumbled obsidian—comes into view. Dusaro. Sin shifts at my side, crossing his arms across his chest, and his mouth twitches as if he’s running his tongue across his teeth. I resist the urge to put my hand on his arm, knowing the tumultuous relationship he shares with his father.

The crowd whistles and cheers as Dusaro approaches the lectern, bracing his hands flat on the surface, his arms stiff as boards. Neat braids span either side of his face, his hair spilling down the back of his long, black cloak, gold threading along the seams of the shoulders and wrists. He raises one hand, and the communal roaring silences at once.

Dusaro’s voice is thick with authority when he speaks, his words clipped and edged in iron. It isn’t difficult to imagine where Sin picked up many of his mannerisms. He’s the spitting image of his father, except where Dusaro’s heart is frozen through and through, I’ve seen a faint ember fighting for breath in the depths of Sin’s.

“I have no interest in taking more time from any of you than is needed, so I will be quick.

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