The pain was irrelevant. So were the four guns trained on him, and the four shaking soldiers who held them. There was only one person he wanted to see.
“Corbin!” he shouted, heedless of the way the soldiers’ fingers tightened on their triggers. “Damn you, Corbin! Let me go back! I have to go back! Corbin!”
“I am here,” said the familiar, calm voice. “And we will speak once you can do so like a man rather than a beast, Blaze.”
A fresh throb of pain shot through Blaze’s binding. He clenched his fist as a tall, austere figure stepped out from the shadowed doorway.
As always, Corbin wore the black, full-length robe and gold-lined hood that marked his rank. A casual observer might have mistaken the outfit for traditional academic dress. With his graying hair and lined, thoughtful face, Corbin did look the part of an absent-minded college professor.
In truth, he was something far more dangerous.
Corbin folded his hands into his wide sleeves, regarding Blaze with cool appraisal. “You are not in control of yourself. You know what that means, Blaze.”
The Phoenix rose in his soul, alight with hatred. With gritted teeth, Blaze forced his beast back down. He didn’t like this process any more than his animal did, but fighting only made it worse.
Blaze’s binding burned. His vision went dark, a wave of dizziness sweeping over him. His beast shrieked in outrage and fear—and fell into strangled silence, as Corbin fully opened the link between them.
Blaze swayed, power running out of him like blood from an open vein. Across the courtyard, Corbin drew in a soft, sharp breath, his chest rising as he siphoned off the Phoenix’s fire.
The warlock kept the connection open for a long, agonizing minute. By the time Corbin finally released him, Blaze was on his knees, hands braced on the flagstones.
“There,” Corbin said, calmly. “Better?”
For a moment, all he could do was breathe. His ears rang with the sudden silence in his mind. There was a sick, sour taste in his mouth.
But the warlock had drawn off the rage that had threatened to consume him. The Phoenix fire burned low and fitful in his soul, leaving him space to think.
Painfully, he got back to his feet. “Thank you, High Magus.”
The warlock tipped his head in acknowledgement. “And now that you are not half-feral, you can explain yourself. I summoned you back the instant I sensed you start to lose control, but even so, I was nearly too late. What happened, Blaze?”
“I don’t know.” He swallowed hard, still feeling dizzy and nauseous. “I went to the fire. It was helping to calm my beast, just like it always does. But then—there was—”
He stopped, words failing him. His memories were a confused jumble, as they always were after he walked in a wildfire. It wa
s like awakening from a dream, and trying to pierce together sense from jagged, too-bright fragments.
A voice like a song, calling to him. Skin as soft and dark as soot, every rich curve gloriously, maddeningly bare. And her eyes, her eyes…
“There was a woman,” he said, haltingly.
Corbin went very still. “A woman?”
“Yes. The most beautiful woman…and I knew her.” Just the thought of those heart-stopping eyes made fire rise again in his soul, even though Corbin had only just drained him. “But I’ve never seen her before. High Magus, how is that possible?”
A muscle ticked in Corbin’s jaw. “I do not know.”
The warlock had raised Blaze from childhood. Corbin had been parent and mentor and prison warden for as long as Blaze could remember. Their very souls were bound together. He knew Corbin better than anyone.
And he knew when Corbin was lying.
“You do know something! Or you suspect it, at least.” Unable to contain himself, Blaze took a step forward. “Tell me! Now!”
The soldiers in the corners of the courtyard tensed. Corbin lifted a hand slightly, motioning them back down.
Corbin’s gray eyes never left his. Blaze was used to being studied by the warlock for any sign of instability, but this much unwavering scrutiny was unnerving.
If he didn’t know better, he would have said that the High Magus was…afraid.