When a Magebound conceives, their child is expected to also become bound to their parents' magic and their bloodline. If two mages marry, then their child will inherit whichever is the more dominant magic, while the lesser magic vanishes. Lesser Magebound have even been known to marry those without any binding at all, just to ensure the survival of their own familial bindings. It’s rare when it doesn’t manifest at all, almost unheard of really, which is why my own incompetence was so notable. Magic didn’t just disappear from the high houses, and certainly not from the strongest of them.

Most who discover that they possess a Magebinding do so in adolescence, whether it was by an accident or through an intentional set of tests. It’s uncommon to hear of someone discovering their binding as an adult, but not impossible, which is why I had held out hope leading up to Alexia’s rescue.

I’d heard once that magic was the manifestation of essence, the power of the soul. I’d always believed that magic didn’t need to be learned. That its use would come instinctually like any skill that could be honed with practice.

I wasn’t entirely wrong in those thoughts. The more I communicated with the rats, and continued to bind more of them to me, the more familiar with my power I became. It did not hurt that after learning more about Count Lovick, I now had a purpose. I hadn’t thought much of escape before now. With a broken hand, and my father’s looming threat behind me, the risk of being caught had felt too great. But I wasn’t defenseless anymore. I didn’t know how a small army of rats might help me, but I had to believe it would be the difference I needed.

“I need you to find me a mending kit.” I told Apollo and the others I’d caught.

Apollo rose on his hindlegs and tilted his head in confusion. “What is a mending kit?”

I struggled to think of how to describe one. “They are small tin boxes, about this big.” I held my hand out to show the approximate size. “Or it might be a fold of fabric, like a small book.”

“Fabric is soft.” One of the other rats said, and the rest of them squeaked their agreement.

While all of them could understand me, Apollo was the one who I’d bonded with first, and seemed to understand me the best. Information was easier to relay to Apollo for him to give to the rest, like a translator.

For good measure, I tried to picture what both kits I’d described might look like, and attempted to project it through the individual bonds between us. With that, the rats all took off through the hole in the wall to complete their task.

They left their mending kits at the edge of the hole, out of sight from the open door. Within hours, they brought a tin of tobacco, multiple coin purses, a compass, and a surprisingly feminine compact mirror. Each time they brought an item, the rat who’d found it would wait inside the hole until I looked it over. I’d shake my head no, and then they’d scurry away to try again.

I could have asked Leander for one, but I had no desire to speak to him. I didn’t know what he had been told to say, or how to act, and I couldn’t be sure that anything I’d seen so far wasn’t a lie. If everything had been a lie, then I’d been a fool for entertaining the idea that he was safe. If he had been genuine... then the only difference was that he felt remorse for the tasks he’d been given.

The only words he’d exchanged since then had been to tell me that the storm had blown us off course, adding a day or two to the voyage, but that we were almost there. That knowledge had driven me to find a mending kit. I needed something small, and unnoticeable if I was caught with it. I needed a needle.

Being continuously bitten was already taking a small toll. Many of the bites had formed ugly yellow and purple bruises around the punctures. I could barely move my arm without agitating one of the spots. Saliva was no longer a convenient means of binding the rats, if it had ever truly been convenient. No, I needed a means to obtain their blood.

The tip tap of scurrying toes gained my attention, and I stood up with a glance down the hall. Leander didn’t turn to look at me as I moved out of sight towards the hole. There was a small latched case, nearly the size of the body of the rat who’d brought it in the hole. It was a little bit larger than what I was asking for, and after opening it, it was easy to see why. The rat had found a grooming kit. Complete with a nail file, tweezers, tiny mirror, scissors, thimble, and a razor.

I picked up the razor, careful not to cut myself as I examined the edge. If I used this, I’d have to be careful not to hurt them, and the chances of calming an unbound rat were not good. I placed it back in the pack, realizing as I set the razor back down that a needle case had been pushed against the edge of the tweezers. I pulled off the cap and dumped it. Two sewing needles dropped onto the floor.

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I pricked my finger with a wince, and smiled as a tiny bead of blood formed on my fingertip. I reached out across the bond to the rats.

“I have what I need, you can stop searching.”

I could feel their collective sense of accomplishment, and couldn’t help but smile at the simple way that they lived.

As for using the needles, that was another challenge all together. I had to figure out where to place the point, and how much pressure to use. It turned out to be just as difficult, if not more so, than being bitten. It required precision, and I was still limited to one hand. I needed Apollo, and a few of the other rats to help so that I didn’t hurt the unbound creatures unnecessarily.

Collectively, they could hold the new rat still as I tried to find the best place to draw blood. When I could break through the skin, the rats would writhe, making it even more difficult to find the forming blood drops through the fur. The longer I took to dig for it, the more agitated even the bound rats became as they held their kin down.

After the second rat was done in that method, I decided to try for the flesh of the tail instead. There was a noticeable vein that was far easier to prick than the flesh beneath their fur. Not to say that the new rats didn’t notice the needle, but if I went at a slight angle where their tails connected to their bodies, I had a much easier time drawing the blood to the surface. This at least made the experience less traumatizing for all of us involved.

My mischief grew from seven rats to thirteen, twenty-four, then thirty-two. I eventually stopped counting. I ate just enough to satiate my own appetite, saving the rest for the ship’s tiniest passengers. I rewarded and cared for my rats, while luring those not yet attached to my cell.

We’d been at sea for three weeks, and the voyage normally took between two and three weeks. The storm had delayed us, but I had no doubt that the coast would be visible on the horizon before long. We were days away from arriving in Etheroz, and I wasn’t prepared for it.

I had no way to prepare myself for our arrival except for exercising my Bloodbinding. I was set on binding every rat on the ship to myself, even if I didn’t know what good it would do me in the end. If I was going to go on the run, it probably wouldn’t be helpful to have forty or so rats following me through the woods. Or, maybe I should let Leander bring me to Count Lovick’s estate, and then use them to kill the man?

It was a dark thought, but he’d already killed one wife, and I wasn’t sure if my fate would fare much better once I’d produced an heir. No one would believe I was involved if he were mauled by a horde of rats. Animals couldn’t be controlled. No one would bat an eye at an attack. It’d be considered poor luck, and no one would suspect my own involvement as long as I never shared what I was.

The only one who I’d ever want to know would be Alexia, and I’d have to find her first for it to matter.

At night I’d send the rats away, with one or two stationed in the room next door to chase away any who might try to sneak into my room. While I had a new appreciation for the beasts, I still did not want to wake up with any of them crawling over me in the dark. The only rat I allowed to remain past dark was Apollo, letting me scratch his tiny brown head until I fell asleep.

Since Leander and the captain had insisted on my presence remaining a secret, I had to believe that my departure from the ship would follow similarly. That they’d wait until most of the cargo was unloaded, and the crew had been dismissed to enjoy the luxuries of the harbor town. Probably sometime after dark.

I leaned against the wall and stared into the pitch black of the room. It was a new moon outside, and the light of the stars wasn’t strong enough to penetrate the shadows of my prison. There was nothing to do but worry about the future.

I had no money to survive once I left the ship. I had no map, or even experience in reading one if I did. If I managed to outsmart Leander and escape, I’d spend the rest of my life in hiding.

I winced at the thought.

I’d been so willing to attempt it with Alexia, and now the idea felt more like a different kind of prison sentence. I’d had money when planning my escape in Astalia, a means to provide for us, at least for a little while, while we figured out how to live. But now? I was alone, except for the rats. It was terrifying.

If I didn’t run, if I let Leander fulfill my father’s orders, then I’d be at the count’s mercy. If he was as cruel as I suspected him to be, I wouldn’t be able to kill him right away. Assuming I had the stomach to kill him at all. Even with my role as a Bloodbound hidden, it would be far too convenient if he died on our wedding night. Enough time would need to pass so that I could guarantee that the count’s assets would pass on to me, and not another male family member.

I had no desire to be sent back to my father...

Apollo nuzzled against my face, sensing my roiling emotions through the bond. I hadn’t figured out how not to project my feelings down it, but I was grateful for the comfort. His little body was half hidden in my hair as he perched on my shoulder, but I didn’t need to see in order to reach up and scratch between his ears.

“I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.” I whispered to myself.

Apollo leaned into the scratches, unable to understand the choice I had to make. He stayed until my hand got tired and I stopped scratching his head and chin. He then crawled down my arm to scurry through to the store room next door. With a sigh, I moved to pull the blanket to me and huddled on the floor.

Sleep was slow to come as my mind raced in a never ending circle. If I ran, I’d have nothing. Eventually, I’d be caught. How severely I would be punished for it would depend on who caught me and how. If I went willingly to Lovick, then I would have to find a way to survive his treatment until I could kill him. It seemed the safer option, but I wasn’t a murderer. If it was ever known that I had commanded the rats to kill Count Lovick, I’d be sent to follow him to the grave.

I closed my eyes. I had no desire to taint my soul with death. I could only pray to the Undying One that it never came to that. That I would be spared the choice in the end.