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:For fuck’s sake, read the fucking room, plague,: the dragon grouched. :Use the fucking bond she gave you. Listen. So you know what the fuck’s going on.:

:I am listening.:

:No the fuck you aren’t. Or you’d know we’re all shitting our britches over what just happened.:

I didn’t enjoy feeling like the butt end of a spear stabbed into the mud. :You’re not wearing britches.:

The dragon blew out a plume of smoke as he retracted his head and shifted back to his human shape. :G, come get your charge. You deal with the fucking plague.:

Sir Guillaume let out a surprisingly chipper chuckle. :I cannot leave my assigned duty, dragon. General, this sounds like a job for you.:

Sekh clamped a hand on my shoulder and steered me toward the exit. :Close that wound, plague. We don’t need to leave a blood trail for the Screaming Madness to follow.:

:I have been cured of the plague.: I couldn’t help protesting even as I licked the wound on my wrist closed. :I am no longer contagious.:

:Right,: he drawled out, shaking his head. :We’re going to do a mental exercise.:

The spider-legged Blood waited in the tunnel. With the impressive sweep of his horns, I had no idea how he’d navigated the tight dark spaces. As soon as he pocketed a metallic trinket in his hand, the mysterious oval opening immediately closed, the stone wall as smooth as before. No seams or lines marred the entrance. He shared a long look with the general that I couldn’t decipher and then reached back into his pocket and pulled the trinket out on his palm.

The door didn’t open again. He nodded and tossed the item on the ground. The general ground the piece of metal beneath his bare foot, but the item remained unharmed. So he bent down, picked it up, and popped it into his mouth.

Stunned, I could only gape as he chewed the strange object and then swallowed it. Followed by a surprisingly loud belch for such a small trinket.

:Did you get that, Warwick?:

:Pardon?:

Sekh sighed again and jerked his head at the other Blood, who immediately went scuttling up the tunnel after the queen’s party. Ah, I see. With oddly elegant precision, Vore twisted his head to the side, allowing one horn to proceed him. Hopefully he was aware of who might lag ahead of him in the tunnel.

The general turned burning golden eyes on me, and suddenly, despite my advanced age and experience as a knight, I was reminded of what it felt like to be the youngest squire attending his first real battle.

:You’re only using the communication level of the bond. The light surface layer. But there’s a deeper connection you’re missing. A full, deep Blood bond provides an incomparable connection, not just to our queen but also to the rest of her Blood so we can serve her better. You should be able to feel her emotions as your own. Her pain as your own. Her thoughts will fire in your head even if she doesn’t intend you to hear.:

:Why would I…?:

His face twisted in a vicious snarl. :If you’re going to be an Isador Blood, you’ll accept the full Blood bond as the Mother intended and use it to the maximum of your ability. Or I’ll swallow you whole this very moment and add your dust to the blowing sands of the Red Lands.:

His eyes burned like fiery exploding suns. He looked angry. With me? :I beg your pardon, general. I’m not being deliberately obtuse. I am willing to accept and use a full Blood bond. I thought I made my intention apparent when I fed once more on our queen.:

His eyes narrowed into wicked slits that sent chills rippling down my spine. :You’re so fucking shut down you don’t even feel me.:

From the lack of inflection in his words, he hadn’t meant his statement as a question, but to be safe, I shook my head. :I was in an iron box for centuries, general. Perhaps my senses were permanently damaged by the captivity.:

He stepped closer and gripped my shoulders, one in each hand. Toe to toe. Eye to eye. Almost nose to nose. Close enough I smelled the musk of his sphinx, the scent of lion making my own horse want to shy away. Run away. As fast and far as possible.

:No,: he growled. :Stay. Look into my eyes. Reach for me.: I started to lift my hands, but he immediately snarled again. :Not physically. Mentally.:

I stared at him until my eyes hurt and a bead of sweat trekked down my forehead. But I felt nothing. Not even a tickle.

Relenting ever so slightly, the general tried again. :Go ahead and put your hands on me. A physical connection might help. Then close your eyes.:

Dread tightened my jaws, adding more force to my grip than I would have otherwise normally dared on a Blood of his stature. :I don’t much like the darkness. I would rather see.:

:What you fear blinds and numbs you to what is possible.: Despite the bluntness in his tone, his fingers kneaded my shoulders as if he tried to put me at ease. :This time, you’re not alone in the darkness, Warwick. You belong to House Isador now. You’ll never be trapped and alone in the dark again. Once we open your connection, she will always be with you. I will always be with you. All of us. Nothing short of eternal death will separate us from her.:

Always with me. Even in the darkness. Even in the iron maiden that had become my own personal hell. I wouldn’t wish that nightmare on anyone, let alone our young queen. Though if I could have a deeper bond with her…

Dread tasted like rancid meat on my tongue, but I squeezed my eyes shut.