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Kerik continues, merrily, “You said yourself I have great power. And when I can wield Iceheart it will grow stronger. We could take the world. Return here and conquer this realm. Rule the greatest Empire the world has ever seen.” Kerik grins. “And I could give you Vylenor. When my power is at its fullest we can return and take this place. You could show them who you truly are and force them to accept you on their knees before both of us.”

Perl takes a breath.

Magic and mortals.

Must it always be this way? His father, Jareleezi… it always ends the same. Magic destroys any mortal it touches, breaking them to madness. Why had he thought Kerik would be any different? “Kerik,” he says slowly. “I am not awakening your magic so you can become Duke of Fanost. You need your power only to battle Ur-Durik. You are the Magician of the Five Fae Princes reborn.”

“Well,” Kerik says dismissively. “I am sure I can do both. If your demon does return. I will use my power to destroy it, naturally.”

Perl looks at him. And he sees it. Kerik does not believe anything he has told him about Ur-Durik. And he has not been working on his magic because he is the fated magician. He has been doing so in the hope of winning power for himself.

He is no different from the rest of them.

Except that he is. Except that this time Perl has given this mortal more than power. Perl has given him his heart.

24

KERIK

Over the next days, Perl seems to grow distant, brittle in a very familiar way. He is acting as the stiff, overly controlled creature he was when they first met.

When Kerik tries to touch Perl, or kiss him, Perl pulls back, muttering that they need to be careful, that they only have one more test. Kerik is not sure why that means they must be so restrained, even in the safety of Perl’s warded chambers. He supposes it must be Perl’s nerves, worry overwhelming him as the end of their time in Vylenor grows nearer.

He had mentioned something about betraying the Queen he clearly respects and feels he owes his life to. Perhaps that is all it is. Perl is still a creature so heavily cloaked in guilt and shame.

Or perhaps it is because he has told Kerik so many of his secrets and regrets it. Or he is simply brooding about the way they had coupled. The way he had given himself to Kerik. But it is clear he still aches for such acts. Kerik will simply have to wait. He is sure he will have more chances to take Perl’s body when they leave Vylenor.

Leaving Vylenor means completing the final test perfectly.

As they wait for Exeinil to declare this test, which Kerik learns will be conducted with great ceremony in the Ice Hall for a large audience of faeries, he starts to grow apprehensive too. Every test so far has held some hidden trick or cruelty.

But he must complete it. His future plans depend on it.

Kerik resolves to do just that. The exact nature of the test has not been revealed to them. Kerik just hopes it does not involve anything like being chained inside a giant block of ice.

When the order finally comes, Kerik dresses in his hip cloth and collar and follows Perl, leashed as usual, to the Ice Hall. The hall is thronged with faeries, giggling and chattering in their lewd outfits and glittering wings. There is a platform in place in the hall’s centre, but there is nothing on it that hints at what this test will be.

Perl bows before Exeinil and Kerik sinks elegantly to the floor, prostrating himself, forehead to the cold marble. He hears Exeinil make a soft sound of delight. He hopes it is down to his obedience. Perhaps she is remembering his performance at the previous test, sucking Perl on his knees. Kerik has no doubt she enjoyed that.

“The final test will be The Positions,” Exeinil announces. “Perlash-zeren-ai, you will take your thrall and have it strip and stand.”

“Yes, Grand Majesty,” Perl says. “Thrall, stand and remove your garments.”

So he is to do these positions naked. Kerik supposes it could be worse. There seem to be no humiliating additions to his body. He does as he is bid, removing the hip cloth and handing it to Perl, who takes it and makes it vanish into the air. Kerik hopes it is not gone for good. He has become quite fond of it and he has already considered how much he would enjoy seeing Perl wearing it after he has used magic to make it far smaller.

Perl leads Kerik by the leash up onto the platform and says in a soft, low tone. “Stand straight with your arms outstretched.” It’s a simple blunt statement, but as Kerik gets into position, Perl leans in and kisses him on the lips. A single soft sweet kiss, but it sends heat straight to Kerik’s cock. He looks at Perl. Was that a kiss that meant something, or simply for show?

Kerik knows better than to ask when he is displayed before all the faeries as a thrall.

As Perl steps down from the platform, Kerik feels a sudden strange sensation in the fingers of his outstretched hands. A rush of air and warmth, accompanied by a light tinkling sound.

He looks and realises each of his fingers is decorated by a tiny silver bell, hanging from each middle joint. He moves his fingers in surprise and the bells tinkle again.

Exeinil laughs lightly as do many of the other faeries, amused by Kerik’s surprise.

“Do not allow those bells to ring, thrall,” says Exeinil. “Or the test is failed.” She turns to Perl. He is offering his wrist to her. The Queen waves a hand over it, conjuring the suppressor cuff.

And the first part of the test begins, such a simple thing. It quickly becomes difficult as Kerik’s arms start to ache, the muscles desperate for relief. The bells on his fingers seem to grow heavier, but he cannot tell if that is magic or simply his imagination.