Ayther, King of Zarral, stared disconsolately out the window of his study. His sister had disappeared early that morning with two of her maids, some clothes, and a large amount of money. Now the sun was little more than a half-circle over the horizon and she still had not returned.

“She’ll come back, Ayther,” his childhood friend and captain of his personal guard, Ranick, assured him.

Ayther ran his hand through his dark red hair, his green eyes too weary. “I hope so.”

The blonde and blue-eyed knight joined him at the window. Throughout the twenty-six years of Ayther's life, Ranick had always been there. Their parents had been friends and now so were they, even after both sets of parents had died when a horrible pestilence had swept through Zarral many years before. Ranick was his most trusted friend and advisor. But sometimes, he could be a bit too wise.

"She didn't take the news about the betrothal well, did she?" Ranick asked him knowingly.

Ayther shook his head. "She should have expected it, though. She knows-"

"And you made all the necessary arrangements before telling her," Ranick sighed.

"It's not about her, Ranick. It's about the kingdom. Besides, she'll be treated well. I don't know what could have driven her to run away..."

"She's a woman, Ayther, not an object to be bartered around."

"It’s how things have always been! We need trade and allies. The Malcor slavers are getting bolder and bolder. They’ve already raided some of our outlying villages. On top of that, it’s spring and the Night Hounds are on the prowl again. The villages near Kalborne have reported sightings. The Forgjans can help us in that respect, and for all their roughness, they treat their women well. Xandra will be worshipped. They will take great care of her."

“Have you tried to make arrangements with the Mordrans? There’s a big, powerful clan up north. They wouldn’t ask for a marriage in exchange, would they?”

“Mordrans are only interested in trees and machines,” Ayther said scornfully.

“What about the other people in Kalborne?”

Ayther frowned. “About Kalborne. I just heard a strange rumour going around.”

“Gossiping, your Majesty?”

He rolled his eyes. “I do try to keep abreast of the things going on with the neighbours. Anyway, I heard that the Temple’s in an uproar.”

Ranick raised an eyebrow. “The Remnants? They’re not known for being easily alarmed. Something terrible must have happened.”

Ayther opened his mouth to reply when there came a sudden, frantic tapping at the door.

“Come in,” Ayther said absently.

The door opened and the sentry outside his door burst in. “Your Majesty,” he said with a hasty bow, “the Princess has returned!”

Ayther jumped. “What? Where is she? Is she all right?”

“She’s on her way back with some travellers, according to the runner from the gate.”

“Travellers?”

The soldier bowed again. “I don’t know the details my Lord, besides that they appear to be Mordrans,” he said apologetically.

“Come on, Ranick. We’ll wait for them in the courtyard.”

“It’s raining again, my King.”

“I don’t need a weather report, Ranick,” he snapped peevishly. “You’d better hurry. I’m starting to think I want to ride out and meet them.”

Ranick sighed and rolled his eyes. But he obediently got to his feet and followed him.

Ayther stared. He knew it was rude and not very kingly, but he couldn't help it. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"Daimira," he repeated when they were introduced. He was vaguely aware that there were others but he didn't even let Xandra finish with her account of the incident with Malcor slavers.

"I thank you for saving my sister," he said, his eyes glued to her face. Behind him, he heard Ranick's amused cough and chose to ignore it.

"It is every person's duty to help his - or her - fellows in need," Daimira replied in a clear voice.

"Yes," Ayther murmured. "To show you my gratitude, let me offer you the comforts of my palace. It's raining and you are wet. I'm sure you'd like to stay the night and rest?"

"Oh no, we couldn't do that," a familiar dry voice said sarcastically and he looked up.

"Han-Ra!" he exclaimed, suddenly realizing that one of his sister’s rescuers was the daughter of the chief of the ruling Mordran clan. "I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"Realize I was here?" she finished for him. She looked vastly amused. "It's quite understandable. I suppose I could forgive you."

"I really wouldn't feel right if I let you all stay at an inn," Ayther frowned. "Please, you saved my sister and possibly the whole kingdom. It's the least I could do in return."

Daimira curtsied gracefully, though a bit oddly. The grace was inborn, but it seemed as though she was not accustomed to curtsying to anybody. "Then we are honoured, your Majesty. We would be delighted to stay."

"This is one of the most beautiful apartments I've been in my entire life - and I've broken into a lot," Falcon nodded, gawking at the rooms they had been led to.

Daimira smiled tolerantly as the young girl bounced around the common sitting room, turning vases in her hands, staring wide-eyed at crystal figurines and woodcarvings, and testing the sofa cushions.

Tarahn stepped out of one of the bedrooms. "There are three rooms. Lake gets one by himself."

"Falcon and I can share a chamber," Daimira offered without looking up from the panel of a small and uncomplicated thinking machine in the corner.

Tarahn nodded, looking pleased. “We should try to get some information, you know.”

“You can talk to the King,” Lake said, stretching out as best he could on a divan, which was too short for one with his height. “And Falcon and the Princess are the same age. Perhaps she could spend time with her.”

Falcon shook her head emphatically. “You’re forgetting that I’m a thief and she’s a Princess. We won’t have much to talk about after she realizes that.”

“And who says you have to tell her the truth?” Tarahn asked mildly. “You can pass for a Mordran. We’ll say you’re my cousin, an apprentice machinist and a promising alchemist.”

Falcon sighed heavily.

“What about you and Daimira, though?” Tarahn frowned at the young man.

“We’ll stay here. We have something to do.”

Tarahn shrugged, then went over and grabbed Falcon by the back of her tunic. “Come on. Time to make yourself useful and be on your best behaviour. Put that crystal back where it belongs. I’ll be searching your pockets once we’re back here, too.”

Falcon muttered something nasty under her breath, but allowed Tarahn to pull her out of the room anyway, returning a crystal tiger to a table as she passed.

“Are they gone?”

Daimira pushed the door to the apartment shut. “Yes.” She turned around and saw that Lake was now sitting up. She stared at him curiously and a bit nervously. “What are we going to do?”

He pushed a table aside and sat on the floor, his legs crossed. He pointed to the spot right in front of him. “Sit here.”

Daimira sighed and sat close enough for their knees to touch. When she looked at his face, she saw that the blank look in his eyes was gone. They were a brilliant blue, like the sky on a clear summer morning. “What are you planning?”

“That was an interesting performance earlier,” he said, evading her question. “Five men, knocked out by just one small suggestion. Impressive.”

“I don’t see why that should have impressed you.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to do that before, when I last saw you.”

She gazed steadily at him. “That was a long, long time ago,” she said softly.

“You’re not too tired?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then give me your hand.”

“Why?” she asked warily.

He seemed faintly amused. “Just do it, Daimira.”

She sighed and held her hand out self-consciously.

He stretched out his right hand - the one partly encased in metal - and placed it flat against hers. His fingers were strong, his skin warm. But the metal on his palm was cold, and when she touched the black stone set in the back of the gauntlet, a shiver crawled down her spine.

“Kremnos, still,” he murmured, his eyes downcast.

“Why would it change?” she asked, understanding what he meant. “Do we have to do this?”

He looked up and met her gaze. “Do you truly want him to find you?”

“Can you break a Binding Spell this way? When one end is so far away?”

“I do not intend to break it.”

She frowned in puzzlement. “Then what do you intend to do?”

He didn’t answer for a moment but twined his fingers with hers. “You will break it.”

“I can’t do that from this far away! I wouldn’t even know where to begin...”

“Surely you can feel it.”

“Feel what?” she asked irritably. She wished he’d let go of her hand.

“The old Bond between you and I. The one that formed naturally.”

“No, I don’t,” she lied.

“Don’t lie. It’s the only reason why he hasn’t found you yet.” His lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “You’re still mine.”

“I was never yours!” she declared angrily, trying to pull her hand away.

He didn’t move and he didn’t let her go. He kept his eyes on hers.

They really were beautiful, she suddenly thought. Staring into them was like falling into the sky. It had always been like that. It made her feel strange. Dizzy.

“Don’t,” she murmured, trying to pull away.

“Do you want to be bound to him?”

“Do you think I want so badly to be bound to you?” she countered.

He laughed, and the sound seemed to come from a great distance. “You already are bound to me.”

“You disappeared for so long, and I couldn’t find you. What kind of bond is that?”

The sky filled her vision. “But I found you. I came back, and I found you. And I’m right here, right now.”

She could hear him clearly, but she could hardly see him now. “How do I break it?”

“Follow the thread back. Can you feel it?”

She concentrated for a moment. She could feel the other end of the Binding Spell pulling on her, the cords of magic as wispy and fragile as they had always been. But she could also feel Lake holding on to her tightly. “I know where Kremnos is.”

“Good. Follow it straight back to him. Be there with him.”

She shuddered. “We’ve never used the Binding Spell that way. It’s too risky to do it now. He could hold on and follow me back here.”

“He won’t.”

“You don’t know Kremnos as he is now,” she said anxiously. “He’s much stronger than he was back then. It would be so easy for him and you would be no match for him.”

She felt a low laugh rumbling in her mind. “You have no idea what I am capable of, Daimira. Besides, our bond was sealed with blood. Your blood. It's far stronger than the one you share with him, you should know that. You've studied Binding Spells extensively.” She felt something push against her. “Now go.”

And she went. She had heard of people communicating over great distances via the Binding Spell. She had heard of people sharing one consciousness in the same way. She had never tried any of it herself. She just couldn’t bring herself to form such an intimate connection with Kremnos.

But she did it now. It was easy. As easy as allowing one’s self to be carried down a river by the current. Only safer, because she knew Lake was holding on to her.

Kremnos awoke from his nap with a gasp and looked around him nervously. For a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was. Wasn’t he supposed to be in a room? Sitting on the floor with—

With whom?

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, he saw he was deep in the Kalborne forest, beside a woodland stream. He remembered flickering back here, exhausted from his search for his missing ward.

Daimira, where are you?

He took another deep breath, mentally groping for her end of the Binding Spell. When last he’d tried, his sense of her had been muffled, as if layers of wool had been packed between them.

He frowned. And now he couldn’t seem to...

The Binding Spell.

What happened to our bond? he thought in alarm as he cast about him. All of a sudden, he felt completely alone. Panic began to rise inside him and he quickly fought it down. That was the last thing he needed.

The Binding Spell was broken. He no longer felt as if a thick wall was standing between them. He could not feel her at all.

He scrambled to his feet. He was too tired to flicker so he ran, slipping slightly on the damp grass, straight for the Temple.

A Binding Spell could be broken, yes. A powerful mage could do it. And the death of one end of it could break it, too.

She can’t be dead, he thought as he rushed through the forest in the direction of the temple, both impatient and afraid of what he would see once he got there. Would the High Priestess’ Life Stone have turned black?

If, when he got to the Temple and the stone was black, it would mean the woman he had sworn to protect with his life had perished and he had failed in his duty.

But if it still glowed with its brilliant white fire, it would mean that she had broken their bond herself. That was the only other explanation. She had betrayed him somehow, and it was a possibility that was even more unbearable than the first.

Daimira slumped forward suddenly on the floor, her head nearly hitting Lake’s knee.

He touched her hair carefully. “Daimira. Are you all right?”

She gave a small shudder of exhaustion. “Don’t make me do that again.”

“But did it work?”

She nodded, straightening. “It’s broken,” she confirmed, and looked him in the eye.

So, so blue.

He blinked. “Now I’m sure it is broken.”

“Why?”

“Suddenly, I want to... Never mind. It’s just the Binding Spell.”

Daimira swallowed, recognizing the look on his face. “Just the Binding Spell.”

They stared at each other for a moment.

Then Lake groaned, reaching for her. “We really shouldn’t have done this without a breaker. Just in case...”

“It’s just the spell,” she repeated, letting him touch her face.

“We can keep telling ourselves that,” he murmured agreeably, just before his lips met hers.