It was easier to focus his power against the door when he knew opening it wouldn’t harm what he’d come to find. To push against all the Jewels and craft set against him. The illusions had been more refined. The compulsions spun so finely he’d never even noticed them. Only his compass had allowed him to find the place. And his own power let him break down their centuries old barriers and tear the door from its hinges.
That and his soul deep need to reach his destiny.
The light was murky. It spilled in behind him and filtered through air thick with debris. Wood and plaster dust, motes of honest dust from a door frame that had not been dusted in who knew how long. Air that sang and shivered with sparks of craft that battered at his shield, erected when the first slash had opened his sleeve at the elbow. They really didn’t want him coming in. But Eben really didn’t care.
Probes ran before him, but he didn’t lash out. There was enough weeping and blood smell to steady his temper. The way they cowered and scurried away from him was pleasing. So was their crying, even if it also annoyed. So much confusion and distracted! He just wanted the queen! That was all. They should have been thankful for his service! Surely they wished to see Witch backed by a strong male. To see her rule as she was meant to rule.
Stepping over what might have been a body, Eben looked up, a voice calling him from up high. There she was. It took him a moment to find her, eyes tracking the railing, expecting her to step out of the shadows. He had not noticed the balcony loft when he’d come in, not until her voice had called his eyes to it. There she was. Calling him again, crouched low behind the banister. Hiding from the explosion of the door, probably.
”I see you.” I see you, Witch. Not well. Old wood bisecting her face where the shadows hadn’t obscured it. She sounded young, but a voice could be misleading. But she’d not made her descent yet. There was still time, time enough to teach her as he had been taught. Eyebrows thunderous, Eben tipped his back and looked at the ceiling, a twitch of his wings judging distance.
Enough, though barely. He only needed one good sweep. Stepping into the opening, Eben crouched, then leapt upward, wings propelling him those last feet up until he could grab the railing. He yanked himself up, feet balancing on the wooden rail before he stepped off of it and into the loft with her. His boots stirred dust here too. A crack running along the ceiling above them.
”I’m not here to hurt you, lady.” Ebenar held out his hand to her. He could see her better now. He would need an eternity to study that face. Beautiful where the other had been dazzling. Mouth soft, if almost petulant, instead of cruel. Eben liked the way she looked at him. Liked the way she looked. This was the one. It had been right to flee from the end of the old Witch. He had always bent meant for this one.
”Come.” Eben beckoned. He did not know where he meant for her to go. To him. With him. His fingers curling around her hand and drawing her close. He just wanted a sniff. To be sure. The temple would work fine. He didn’t need the tender spot behind her ear. Eyes closing as he looked for what he wanted to know. Probes like a flurry along her barriers. Girl queen, with hardly a whiff of woman to her.
He had plenty of time then, to be sure she was ready. Even if it meant he would be doing a whole lot of waiting. He’d waited before.