“I’m not asking the same question again and again,” Ryland snapped, his voice hard as his focus jolted to Wyn, who raised her eyebrows in some kind of challenge I didn’t understand.
The two glared daggers at each other, fueled by the tension in the room, and I seized, my muscles clenching painfully throughout my back.
“He’s asking questions as a good leader should,” Risha interrupted.
“As we all should.” Ilyan’s loud, commanding voice took over the conversation with a snap, causing Ryland to collapse back against the wall with one look from Ilyan, his focus drifting back down to his shoes.
It was as if the whole room took one, big sigh with the end of the standoff, the tension releasing ever so slightly. Thankfully, my body didn’t feel so much like it was smothered by a pile of rocks.
Ilyan’s shoes snapped against stone in the suddenly silent space, the ribbons of light dimming as he moved back to the center of the room, the place he always occupied during these meetings. I only wished this meeting had been like all the others, not an emergency council held in secret, or rather, held without Sain.
We were holed up in this tiny room, one of our usual numbers conspicuously missing. Even without sight, I already had an idea where this was going.
“So this man,” I began, my hands wrapping tightly around the old, earthen mug I held, “you are sure he works for your father?”
“I don’t see any other reason for someone to avoid us except to move through the barrier,” Ilyan answered in Czech, his voice growing deeper as he switched to his native tongue. “I don’t see how they could know how to move through the barrier unless they were.”
I nodded, knowing he was right. I heard Wyn ask some question about motive, but I stared into the dry and cracked bottom of the mug, silently wishing I had the ability to fill it myself, that the next question would never come.
“—and he’s one of us,” Wyn finished her thought, her voice drifting away as she avoided the obvious.
Too bad I wouldn’t.
“You believe this cloaked man to be Sain.” It wasn’t even really a question.
I didn’t often get nervous, or I hadn’t for all my life until a few months ago. Right then, as I sat with a dozen eyes on me, the solitary sound in the room that of Wyn’s heavy breathing and Ryland uncomfortably shifting his weight, I was positive my heart was going to explode out of my chest and do some sort of twisted tap number for them all to see. Nerves and anxiety were a new addition to a life without sight, it seemed. Much like Black Water.
Luckily, Joclyn understood my need for the latter. Her hand extended toward me in a silent request for the mug. Her face was torn between sympathy and anger that I had already made the connection about why our father wasn’t here, not that it was hard to miss. Sain had never missed a war meeting before; I was just the first one to put voice to it.
“In some ways, having our culprit be Sain would be the lesser of two evils,” Ilyan announced, his voice cutting through me and awakening an anger I hadn’t felt in quite a while.
I didn’t like the idea that my father would somehow be a lesser evil than something else or, worse yet, the greatest evil of all.
“Being double-crossed by your own man is the lesser of two evils?” Wyn asked, her voice rising to its haunting history, each word so reminiscent of our connected past that I couldn’t help shivering. “If that’s the case, then I think I want a do-over. Let someone else take the fall for my ‘lesser.’ “
“Being double-crossed by a condescending, old man would be much better than having Edmund’s entire army knowing how to move through the barrier.” Joclyn handed my now full mug back to me as Risha gasped, the sound so loud I jerked, almost missing the mug and spilling the liquid gold over the blankets that covered me, something that probably would have been quite painful judging by the way the delicious fluid had started to burn inside of me.
“Edmund’s entire army able to move through the barrier at will, attacking us in a cage?” Risha’s normally sweet voice had dropped, the heavy strain accompanying that side of her increasing. “As if they don’t attack us enough on our normal raids. We lost three people this morning.”
“Okay, yeah,” Wyn conceded before leaning against the headboard of the bed opposite mine, obviously ready to watch the show from where she sat, squished against Thom’s endlessly sleeping frame. “That would be worse.”
“I can’t believe he would do that,” Ryland muttered from where he leaned against the wall. “He has the same goals as we do; why would he work for someone he wants to kill just as badly?”
Ilyan looked to Ryland with a snap, his eyes narrowing as he took a slow step forward. “But do you know that he does, Ryland? I know what you two have been through. I know you have become very close to him. Regardless, we have to keep every possibility open, and his behavior with Joclyn as of late, with our queen, has been highly inexcusable.”
Ryland cringed a bit as Ilyan spoke, his bulldog stance sagging as the strength of Ilyan’s words sunk in.
“No, I will give you that,” Ryland sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I find it hard to believe he would be working with Edmund after everything he put him through.”
Even Ilyan remained silent. It was obvious Ryland had a point.
Grumbles and groans and whispered agreements moved through the small group as instances and possibilities and facts about Sain were thrown around. Everyone was trying to find their own answer. I wished I could feel as comfortable as easily as Ilyan and Joclyn seemed to be with accepting that my father—the first of our kind—would work with the man who had called the order for the entire destruction of our race. Yes, he had been unruly recently, but like Ryland, I couldn’t accept this.
“What makes you think it is Sain?”
Ilyan turned toward me at the question, my shoulders tensing from the dangerous look in his eyes. The mug in my hands was so warm I knew I needed to drink it soon, although part of me was too scared to do it. I was beginning to understand how the others felt when they sought sight. Black Water burned. If it didn’t taste so good, it might have been easier to avoid it.
“Joclyn saw him within a sight in the cloak, running through the city. She’s seen the same figure a few times. After what we saw this morning—”
“She saw him in sight? Or she saw him in real life?” Risha interrupted, her voice quivering uncharacteristically.
“What are you asking?” Joclyn snapped, her face draining of color.
I straightened, a tense knot forming in my spine as I looked between the two women, obviously missing something.
“Well, after this morning, I feel it’s necessary to look at other possibilities.”
Joclyn cringed, her shoulders pulling into her neck, her face wrinkling in the way it always did before she erupted at our father. Except, this time it wasn’t father; it was Risha.
Ilyan’s second.
Joclyn’s second.
“Joclyn?” I whispered as I leaned toward her, the mug all but forgotten. “Are you okay, my dear?” Placing my hand on her knee as I always did, I pulled her attention away from the beautiful Skȓítek who looked like she had walked into a men’s locker room.
Joclyn looked at me, her eyes pained and sad. The wrinkles in her brow intensified as her eyes shined with tears. That was new.
“Wait. What happened this morning? Lightning bolts erupt out of her head or something?” Wyn asked, putting voice to the question that, thanks to Joclyn’s heartbroken expression, had been about to leave my lips.
“She had a sight,” Ryland provided, moving away from the wall, his hand running through his shaggy hair again. “She couldn’t tell the sight from reality.”
I froze; everyone did. Everyone but Ilyan, who moved back to Joclyn’s side, his arm draping over her shoulders, his chest expanding in the familiar protective stance I had seen many times before: in the cave, when Joclyn was trapped within Cail’s mind; in Rioseco, when Sain first returned after
I had awoken. It was a role he was born to play.
I had also seen her do the same. I had seen Joclyn protect Ilyan when he was unconscious in Italy.
Even right then, Ilyan stood beside her, strong, defiant, while she sat beside him, her eyes narrowed, brow hard, willing to do the same for him.
It was magnificent, this pair before me, their love and adoration so breathtaking even Ryland was lost to it, staring at them from where he stood, his lip twitching into a smile. If only the beauty could have taken away the truth…
I was not confident anyone else realized it, but this sight that distorted her reality was an even worse omen than some cloaked man betraying us all.
“She couldn’t tell…?” Wyn began, her eyes drifting in obvious worry to her best friend.
Joclyn said nothing, and Wyn didn’t pry, even though I could tell she wanted to.
“And that makes her untrustworthy?” Ilyan asked of Risha, the power in his voice pressing against her as she cowered in respect.
Her loyalty to her king was clear, even though you could tell something was still nagging at her.
“Not to me, My Lord,” she clarified, her shoulders heaving as she stepped back toward Ilyan, her jaw clenched tightly. “But to others … There are things that have been said, things I have heard.”
“You mean the rumors?” Wyn asked, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed as she sat up a little straighter, staring in fear at what had begun to unfold before us. “Everyone’s heard them; that doesn’t mean they are true. For all we know, it’s some jealous Chosen who is mad they can’t ‘see’ like Jos can.”
It was the reasoning we had always used. What was said, what was being spread around, was so vague there wasn’t any basis to think there was any concern, any basis in fact. Right then, I wasn’t so sure.
“I think I may know for certain where they are coming from.” Risha looked right at Ilyan, her eyes narrowing in an anger that was not meant for him.
I sat frozen, my heart thundering in my chest as I looked between Risha and Ilyan, the bed below me shaking as Joclyn did.
“When Sain stopped me and Joclyn in the hall, when Joclyn had that other sight, he said some things.” Risha was hesitant. I didn’t blame her; Ilyan’s temper, which was always close to the surface lately, increased with every word she spoke, the heavy weight of his anger drifting over the room and tightening the knot of anxiety I had been trying to ignore.
“What things?” Ilyan’s voice had grown even harder, and this time, I saw Risha’s confidence dip.
“That, as she won’t listen to her magic, the Drak in her is dying.”
Everything was silence. Wyn sat still with a clenched jaw. Ryland was caught between looking at Risha and Joclyn in some kind of shock. Ilyan stared at Joclyn with such severity it was clear they were deep in silent conversation, and I sat still, unable to move thanks to the weakness that had overtaken my body, my lack of magic increasing it.
“He said that?” Joclyn asked as she finally pulled herself out of her revelry. The depth of her voice was so close to that of sight that my blood reacted, my chest tightening in an anxious anticipation I hadn’t felt in a while.
“I don’t believe him, Your Highness, but it was too close to what we have been hearing, to the rumors that have been going around since you first—” Risha stopped halfway through, her own confidence failing from what she had been about to say. No one liked to mention what Joclyn had been dealing with, least of all to Joclyn. “But he’s your father; he wouldn’t say such things…”
Ilyan and Joclyn exchanged sharp looks as Risha took a step back. Wyn and Ryland looked like they both had walked into a slaughterhouse, thinking it was a petting zoo. Sitting in the bed that had become my prison, I gawked at my sister, not wanting to believe what I had heard.
“Why would he tell you that?” I asked, not convinced anyone else understood my true meaning. No one except Joclyn, whom I had taught enough about her magic, about the Drak inside of her that she had obviously pieced it together. “Did he say anything else?”
Risha looked to me in confusion, unable to get any response from Ilyan and Joclyn, who were again locked in an intense, silent conversation, before answering, “That, because she wasn’t listening to her sight, she wasn’t able to understand what she was seeing.”
No. It couldn’t be.
“The Zlomený,” I whispered, the familiar phrase pulling Joclyn and Ilyan’s focus right to me.
“What about it?” my sister snapped at the single word.
I wasn’t surprised by her sudden anger. The word had been thrown at her often, and I guessed it still was. We hadn’t realized until right then.
“What Risha has heard from Sain is the reason for the Zlomený. But there is so much more…” I stopped, unsure what to say, what I could say. Father had always been clear never to repeat the truth about our kind. Yet he was doing that to everyone other than the one person who needed to know.
“What did he—” Joclyn began, only to have her eyes gloss over, her mouth dropping open in fear. “Sain is coming.”
As though someone had shot a bolt of electricity into them, everyone moved, the tension and fear erupting. Wyn jumped up, obviously ready to pin the old man to the ground if she had to; and Ryland shifted around, his loyalty to the man who had helped him for so long turning into a confusing mess.
I sat still as I watched Ilyan clinging to Joclyn as my own anxiety rose to inhumane levels. I tried to mask it, silently sipping the Black Water, letting it warm away the agitation I had been infected with. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working so well.
“Umlčet!” Ilyan commanded, his voice a loud boom as his magic washed over everyone in the room, pressing into them and taking control. As one, everyone turned to him, their bodies unable to disobey the control he had taken. “I need you all to watch. Watch the movements of everyone around you. Not just Sain, everyone. We cannot act until we know beyond any doubt who is behind this. We need to find this person before anything happens. No one else can know of your task. Wyn, you are the guard for the night. I had to tear down the Young Prince look-out building, so you will need to use the Old Man.”
Everyone nodded before they left, dispersing from the small room like a leaky faucet. Drip, drip, drip, and then they were gone, leaving me in the bed I couldn’t move from, Thom still a listless shape, Ilyan and Joclyn standing at the foot, wrapped around each other in such a tight embrace I couldn’t help smiling at them despite the ache in my chest.
The gaze they held between them was long, deep, and loving, their arms wrapped around each other, absorbing each other, as if they couldn’t get enough, as if they were scared to let go. It had been so long since I had seen love that deep. In fact, I didn’t know if I ever had.
It was beautiful and yet…
“It’s times like this I wish Thom were awake. I could sure do with one of his snide comments about propriety right now.”
Joclyn laughed, the sound deep and free, a welcome sound after the tension that had invaded my room for the last few minutes. “Are we bothering you, Uncle?”
“Well, you are my sister…” I smiled, lifting my mug toward her in a twisted toast that I wasn’t sure she saw as wrapped up in Ilyan as she was.
Her lips met his as lights flashed, popping around us all in a beautiful array that was almost comforting. I lay back as I watched them, content to observe the dancing sparkle of the earth’s magic, sad when they left as Joclyn breathlessly pushed Ilyan away.
The normally stoic man laughed, stealing another kiss.
“Seriously, will you get a room?” I groaned.
The two laughed even further before Ilyan swept out of the room, leaving Joclyn and I alone, the tension moving back so quickly I was in no doubt that I had dreamed the last few minutes into reality. I would believe it, too, if it wasn’t for the way Joclyn was staring at the door, her hands twisting the long, golden ribbon through her fingers in agitation that was so familiar for her.
> Saying nothing, I waited, sipping on Black Water, leaning peacefully against the old headboard and wondering faintly if this was what the elderly did in the mortal world. Perhaps I needed a newspaper.
“The Zlomený.” Her voice was soft, but still, I heard. It pulled me right out of revelry, my eyes snapping open to the girl who now faced me. “What are they really?”
Chest tightening in a panic, I was swallowed whole by her eyes, the silver gone from their depths, replaced by a color so dark it was almost black. I expected the ember glow, expected the sight, but she just sat still, staring at me as if she could see into me, as if she really was.
Draks had been taught to use our magic for a slow recall in order to peer into someone in order to understand who they really were. I had seen the deep looks, the knowing glances, many times before. I had performed them many times before. With Joclyn, however, it was different. It was as though she was peering into the deep hidden caves of your soul and connecting with them, understanding them, rather than exposing them and poking around.
“Nothing escapes you, my dear.”
“Well, I am your younger and much wiser sister.” She said it with a laugh, her eyes sparkling as the bed shook a bit under her.
“Siblings is a very loose word for what we really are, dear Joclyn.”
“Drak, then?”
“I’m not sure that fits, either,” I said with a growl, trying to ignore the deep longing that flamed through my soul.
“Why not? Apparently, my sights are broken,” she growled back, one look pulling her right back to the battle in Rioseco where our father had claimed their bonding had broken everything. “Do you believe him?”
“I…” I hesitated.
For the first time in what I was certain was my entire life, I hesitated.
She didn’t miss it.
Her focus finally pulled away from the ribbon wrapped around her fingers, her eyes wide in haunted fear as she met my gaze. “That bad, huh?”
Dawn of Ash Page 13
