Twenty-year-old Tarquin is smart, tactless, and braver than he knows. He's also been Mage of the Realm of Kelor for two years, taking the title from his mother after she died protecting Kelor from a terrible threat. Mages, unlike all other magicians, give their blood in exchange for far more powerful magic. Unfortunately for the Mage of the Realm, there's always the chance one day Kelor will need magic of such potency that a mage will have to give not just their blood, but their life. Tarquin's mother already made this sacrifice, and Tarquin knows it's likely also his fate. While on a quest to heal his brother, who is dying because of Tarquin's reckless mistake, Tarquin is attacked by a horrific, flesh-eating monster. He's saved by an enigmatic and mute young soldier, called "Five", who is cursed with a terrifying appearance that conceals the heart of a knight. There's an almost instant attraction between the two men, but no time to explore it. The monster's attack is the harbinger of a new invasion. With Kelor helpless, the realm's only hope lies with Tarquin. Just as he feared, his sole choice is to sacrifice himself the way his mother did, in exchange for magic strong enough to destroy the coming evil. He's prepared to give up his life to save the realm, but before the battle is over, he'll be faced not just with his own death, but the death of everyone he cares about. Including the cursed soldier he's come to love.

Blood for Magic

“Don’t go,” he said again, pulling himself to his feet. “Please, don’t go. I can fix it. I can heal…Uh-oh.” He leaned heavily on the stable door, swamped with vertigo. Black spots like flies clouded his vision.


Tarquin sank back to the straw-covered dirt, but the floor had stopped being solid somehow and he just kept sinking. There was a thumpsomewhere. Maybe Tea had come back, but Tarquin couldn’t speak to ask. Then his last little hearth magic light went out, and he slid completely into darkness.  3: The Bowl and the Gold Bear


The bowl was stone and as wide across as a grown man’s shoulders, but not deep. Carved out of a natural rise in the stone floor of the chamber, it had been the same gray once. That had been a long time ago. Now the bowl was stained brown with the remains of the blood it had collected for centuries. More blood, dried brown, stained the outside of the bowl. It was easy to imagine how the knife might’ve slipped, how their hands might’ve been shaking.


Chapter 14