Magic Claims by Ilona Andrews

“I swear upon my honor and my soul to pledge my life to you, my queen. I swear to protect and honor you in victory and in defeat, in times of famine and in times of plenty, and even if the entire world turns its hand against you, I will serve as your shield. I shall place your life above my own and speak nothing but the truth to you. My blade, my mind, and my soul are yours.”

He'd modified the oath. The bit about not lying was ad-libbed.

“Do you swear that you are free to make this oath? That no other has a claim on your loyalty?”

“I do.”

“I accept your oath. I shall protect and honor you in victory and in defeat, in times of famine and in times of plenty. I will never forsake you for my own gain. I will care for you until the moment you pass from this world. I will defend you as I defend my own life, and your deeds in the service of our common cause shall be recorded and made known so our descendants may honor and celebrate your life. I shall treat you not as my servant but as my valued friend, who stands at my side. My oath to you shall be true until the end of my days.”

Jushur’s eyebrows rose. I also went with a nonstandard oath because if I accepted someone’s allegiance, I’d do it on my own terms. There would be no queen and servants. There would be a brotherhood of equals, or as close to equals as they would allow themselves to be.

“Do you accept my pledge, Jushur, son of Kizzura?”

“I do,” Jushur answered. “With all my heart.”

I reached out. The golden flood of magic bathed Jushur. The oath was symbolically sealed.

He continued to kneel.

“You don’t need my permission to rise,” I murmured.

“This might take some getting used to,” he murmured back. He got up and stepped back.

“Rimush, son of Jushur, the ninth of the Eyes and Ears, the Seventh Blade of Shinar, declare your intent.”

Rimush swore the same oath. I accepted it and pulled my magical protection back on. The show was over.

“Your father would not approve,” Jushur told me.

“He never does.” I turned to Conlan. “Jushur and Rimush are our people. If something happens to your father and me during this battle, it’s your responsibility to safely get them out of danger. Jushur is an older man, and he might need your help.”

Jushur and Rimush bowed their heads.

Conlan blinked and bowed back.

“Do you understand?” I asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.”

Uncertainty flared in Conlan’s eyes. Up until now he hadn’t considered the possibility that his father and I might not make it. It was a lot for an eight-year-old.

“Where would I go?”

“You would go to your sister and your grandmother. Jushur knows the way.”

“What about Darin?” he asked.

Darin had volunteered to join our party, and Curran had let him. His merman side gave Darin faster reflexes and enhanced regeneration, and like his father and uncle, he was really good with a bow. But more importantly, Darin wanted desperately to fit in, and he had decided he belonged with us and the Wilmington Pack. Curran and I were fighting for the lives of Penderton and our future home; Keelan, Da-Eun, and the other shapeshifters were fighting for the future of the new Pack; and Darin was fighting for himself.

“If there is a chance to save Darin, I’ll make sure he is safe,” Rimush said.

On the street, in front of the gates, the shapeshifters and archers formed up behind Curran. He looked up at me. Our gazes met. It was time.

“Your father is waiting.” I nodded in Curran’s direction.

Conlan took off down the stairs.

Jushur and I’d had a conversation this morning. He and Rimush carried Roland’s water necklaces. When broken, the necklaces would teleport them and whomever they were touching to the original source of the water. Teleportation was risky and dangerous. It was the last of last resorts, but if Curran and I both died, they would get Conlan out of there. They would grab Darin too, if they could get to him, and take the boys to California. Erra and Julie would take it from there.

Of course, for that to happen, the forest would have to kill me and Curran first. Conlan had guessed correctly. We were both angry.

“Sharratum,” Jushur said softly.

Getting him to call me Kate in private was harder than convincing my father that democracy was a valid form of government.

“It’s not too late to change the plan,” the older man said. “Nobody, in my memory, has ever attempted what you are trying to do. The magic drain may be beyond what even your body can endure.”

“There are some things that I won’t tolerate,” I told him. “I won’t lose another civilian to the forest. They are done killing these people. It ends today.”

He bowed his head.

I followed Conlan down the stairs and took my place next to Curran at the head of our little formation. We’d arranged our forces into a column. Curran and I were in the lead. Owen was directly behind us, carrying the big tent we borrowed from Penderton and two gallons of undead blood, which I would need for my blood armor. Behind Owen were Conlan, Darin, and Jushur, followed by Heather and her archers, two per row.

The shapeshifters formed a loose protective envelope around the column, starting with Keelan behind Curran to his left, and Rimush, who technically wasn’t a shapeshifter, behind me and on my right. The rest of the Wilmington Pack formed up behind those two, on the flanks, keeping the archers and the kids between them. Da-Eun, Jynx, and Andre brought up the rear. With those three, nothing would surprise us from behind.