#ryderestate

The mark on his back was gone. They had checked and rechecked Lyn's work. He kept his part of the bond quiet in his head, embarrassed at his weakness still and hid more physically in the estate's tea room. It wasn't that Lyn didn't know where he was - he didn't sleep and Lyren didn't pretend he hadn't noticed lich blue eyes following him when he padded out of their room in the morning.

There was a book open in his lap. He wasn't reading it. Long slender fingers gripped in almost white knuckled as his brain went over what could have been. Not just with him. Why hadn't he thought to use polymorph earlier? They could have freed both Gentil and the Shadoloran scion.

But he hadn't, and that meant there was at least one of them out there that he could have prevented. And Silvermoon - if he was braver he would have suggested going to the city and see what was going on. Flynn and Dakkian could and were looking after Gentil - the morning was still young. But it had been a long night.

He was used to fire. Fire was his. The fact that his new home at the Ryder Estate had been threatened with it made him bristle. And of course that had been the threat - he knew very well how easily things fell to flames. It was no surprise that first Donavin and then Gentil had threatened the building with fire.  It did show how complacent he was, being used to living on Starsong's lands.

The wards here were… different. Newer. Not necessarily worse but… Starsong had wards and runes that were literally soaked with the blood of generations of their family. Flynn had created these wards what, two years ago? The property wasn't ready for an actual assault. They had been lucky - lucky with Gentil and Donavin. Lucky with him, that Ash had stopped him before he got as far gone as they were.

Now, he could only hope their lucky held.

He only wished Mae'syr were there. The two girls had hit it off. Maybe a little too well. But it made him happy, seeing them play. He sought the girl out, finding she had wandered onto the grounds. "Coraline," he called softly.

"Yes uncle Lyren?" She blinked at him, her eyes big and wide and innocent. The whispers in his mind were louder when he hesitated. The mark below his tattoo burned. He had ignored too many opportunities so far.

"Come here for a minute," he said, gesturing her forward. There was a dagger in at his waist and loud voices in his head. He had let them in.

She tilted her head, curious and trusting as she walked up to him. "What is it? Is uncle Lyn back yet?"

He flinched, had to shake his head to ward off a sudden surge of unease-no-don't. He held out a hand toward her. "Give me your hand. Uncle Lyn isn't back yet but when he is - he'll be furious. You should - " 

Oh. That hadn't been what he meant to say, that wasn't what the voices wanted. "You should stand still a moment," The fire mage said, his voice shaking. 

Ash, Ashenvald, where as he? But he had made the bond muted days ago, some instinct knowing it wouldn't lead to what they/he wanted. A small hand was put into his and he smiled, briefly.

Her forehead was crinkled in concern. "Why will he be mad? Did I do something wrong."

"No, not you," he soothed, gripping her wrist gently and turning it over so her palm was facing up. His other hand unsheathed the dagger. "Stay still a moment, honey. This won't take long."

"Uncle Lyren?" There was fear there now and the whispers were soothing and all encompassing. He pressed the dagger to her wrist, about to cut -

"What the hell is going on here?" That was Ash, that was bad/good - and that was a suddenly blast of cold, digging into his skin and around him, around the dagger. It hurt, the way ice always did, and slammed into him, taking his breath away. 

And his consciousness. The last thing he remembered was cold - and the whispers in his mind, unfulfilled.