Taeben just was, in the Void. He had no corporeal form and he felt nothing—at least nothing physical. It was as though his mind was free, but the rest of him was just gone. His magic was still there, but he couldn’t access it—not without Elspethe. Never patient in life, he had grown so in death because there simply was nothing else to do—until now. He had given Elspethe her consciousness back in addition to her body. She was doing his work and keeping herself bound to him at the same time. But that left his mind free to experiment, and in that process, he had stumbled into Gin’s mind.
The fact that their bond was intact was a surprise. He thought that maybe she hadn’t thought about having to sever it after her Qatu beast had killed him. Nothing else made sense. But the bond was still there, and he had heard her voice in his mind for the first time in—well, he had no real idea of how long it had been, actually. To keep himself from going mad due to the nothingness of his existence, he had focused on leading his apprentice along a path that would end with him using her corporeal form as his portal back to the land of the living. He had left off that last part when explaining the plan to her, of course, because her own will to live—nearly as strong as his own, he had to give her credit for that—would never have allowed her to go along with him this far. He remembered the last time he was with Elspethe, shortly before he died when he bound his soul to her soul with blood—that he asked her if he had ever done anything untoward in her mind, and she said she would not have allowed it. He scoffed. Would not have allowed it? She would not have been able to stop him when he was still in his body.
But now—now it was a different story. Taeben was basically a shell of his former self and had no power. All that he was came to him through Elspethe, through their blood bond. She had been a good and faithful servant—but that’s all she was. A servant to the greater good—his greater good. Taeben pictured Gin in his mind, trying to locate her through their bond again. He chuckled—or did whatever one discorporate could do that resembled laughter. She had blocked him from seeing her and communicating with her, but the bond was still intact. His attention was drawn, suddenly, to Elspethe. She was with the Mother Dragon—that was part of the plan—but she needed him. He could feel her drawing him toward her—again, like a lighthouse in his darkness—because she needed help. Soon she would be the one in the background permanently. He wondered if she could see or hear any more than he could when he was in full control of her body, but decided that he could not dwell on that. Pity was weakness, and weakness was death.
Just as he took the first step—figuratively, of course—toward Ellie, he took one last look at Gin and found that she was asleep. Taeben looked through the memories that she was not guarding—old memories, from before he reconnected with her—and picked one to open like a dream for her. Would she be able to sleep through that? Again, Taeben laughed—or whatever resembled laughter when one had no corporeal form and no discernable vocal chords—as he pushed the memory into the forefront of her mind. There would not be much sleep for his Ginny tonight, nor any nights after he returned to Orana.
Thirty-Three
La’al Drygyr, interrupted.
After a few hours of plotting, Sephine left Gin and Sath to check in with Isona and the other gods in the Void. Sath was still sitting with a makeshift map of the continent on the floor in front of him. Gin was meditating, re-creating the barriers in her mind against Taeben’s intrusions—as well as making sure that Omerith and the others with an innate bond couldn’t just turn up in her mind at will. She could feel Sath looking at her and turned around to catch his gaze. “You know I hate it that.”
“I do, yes, but I just can’t help thinking that we are missing something.” He ran one of his large hands over the top of his head. “Still weird to have all this fur on my face again.” He frowned, but Gin quickly closed the space between them, taking his other hand in hers.
“I love it. I missed it, to be honest. Your face wasn’t. . .you without it.”
Sath scowled at her, but his scowl softened to a grin. “You got those barriers up?” He smoothed a bit of hair back from her forehead, taking great care not to scratch her skin. She nodded and yawned. “Go on and get some sleep if you want. I can’t imagine how taxing all of this has been on you.” She padded softly back over to the bed and climbed under the duvet. She was asleep in no time. “Now then.” Sath rearranged himself on the cushion and closed his eyes. Gin had taught him how to look for people in the bond, and he decided that he might as well give it a try while she was sleeping.
First, he concentrated on a blank wall in his mind. No color, no sounds, nothing—and as soon as he had that image firmly in his mind, he began thinking about the golden dragon that he had seen in their chambers two days prior. Daelyth. He spoke the name in his mind over and over. There was nothing. Back to the blank wall again. Omerith. This time the connection was made quickly, but he was not sure that Omerith knew that he was watching. The red dragon was asleep in his own bedchamber—basically
