Reluctantly, she shrugged out of the heavy leather and folded it over one of her thin arms. Her hair had lost the color from the night before and hung in white tendrils around her shoulders. Her skin, as always, was a pale grey and she knew she was far thinner than most considered attractive. The village girls called her corpse when they thought she was out of range of hearing, and sadly it was the most appropriate description for her that she had heard. She did resemble the walking dead and it was not a fact she was proud of.
“Do you feed her at all, Dominic?” Troyelle asked sharply from behind them. The General stepped forward quickly, his gaze locked on her and she hastily stepped back from him, ducking her head. He had the same expression on his face that everyone aside from Dominic had when she removed her coat. It was a look of disgust and pity in equal parts and she hated it.
“He feeds me well, Lord General,” Zoelyn offered in her typical quiet voice.
“She never gains weight, Milord. She was sickly when I found her, if you recall,” Dominic said in a weary voice. “Because of her condition, I cannot heal her, though I have tried.”
“How exactly would you describe her condition?” Lord Blackwolf asked loudly, and Zoelyn flinched from the sound. It wasn’t that the man scared her; it was the hatred in his voice. She knew without a shadow of doubt that he already considered her a monster and nothing she said could change the fact. He was a Shifter, after all, and they were essentially druids in their mind set. Nature was above all in their culture, and she was quite unnatural.
“Father, you are scaring her,” Sebastian chided gently, though she could see the revulsion in his eyes, too, despite his attempt at kindness.
“I am not scaring that creature,” Lord Blackwolf snapped and raised his eyebrow at Dominic. “Well? How would you describe her condition?” he repeated.
“She seems to be a rather strong siphon, Lord Blackwolf,” Dominic began slowly and let out a long sigh. He glanced at Zoelyn and she could see the sorrow on his face. He was about to shed all of her secrets to these strangers. “There is nothing magical or living that is safe from her powers when she doesn’t have herself covered with the special clothing I’ve made for her. She absorbs the essence of life from creatures as well as any magic cast upon her.”
Zoelyn watched Dominic, her heart racing. Way to throw me under the wagon, Dominic. Don’t pull any punches, by all means. She kept the thought silent, but she was sure it showed on her expression and Lord Blackwolf was watching her every move.
“She is very careful about her powers, though, Milord. She takes such precautions to avoid contact with anything she might injure or damage,” Dominic finished, his gaze moving to General Troyelle with the final words.
“Such as at the river yesterday. Tell me, Dominic, what would have happened had she fallen toward the young man, rather than away?” Lord Blackwolf’s eyes narrowed as he spoke, as if daring Dominic to lie to him.
“Then I would have likely broken my nose on the rocks because I wouldn’t have dared risk touching him with my hand and I wouldn’t have allowed him to catch me even if it meant splitting my own skull open in the fall,” Zoelyn answered before Dominic could gather his words.
“I was not speaking to you,” Lord Blackwolf growled his gaze moving to her.
“I, however, appreciate her answer,” Lord Arovan broke in and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Do you drain everything, Zoey?” He paused and frowned, glancing at Dominic then back to her. “Zoelyn or Zoey? Which name do you prefer, child?”
“Either is fine, Milord Arovan,” Zoelyn began, bowing her head with respect and gratitude to the High Lord. While both he and Blackwolf were of equal rank among the Elder Blood, they were in Arovan which meant his word was law here and no matter how badly Lord Blackwolf may want to speak, he didn’t dare interrupt the High Lord of Arovan. “I drain anything of magic, Milord, from items to spells. I drain the life from creatures, though I do not know how large of creatures I affect. Aside from the fish yesterday the only accident I have had previously was a kitten, and I assure you that was a bitter lesson that I will never forget. I avoid touching things that I know I will hurt. I hate it when I damage even the smallest plant,” Zoelyn explained and lowered her head once more. It was possible that she had just used more words in that single breath that she had spoken in the last week. Lord Arovan seemed genuinely interested, however, and it gave her a bit of hope that she might possibly avoid exile.
“General Troyelle, bring in Amlon,” Lord Blackwolf ordered and Zoey watched in suspicion as the General quickly left the tent.
“What do you have in mind, Nicoli?” Lord Arovan asked softly.
“I know what she is. I intend to show you as well,” Nicoli Blackwolf replied quietly in a voice as cold as winter. “What is she, Father?” Sebastian asked curiously.
“I’d actually like that answer as well.” Zoelyn added her own voice and forced herself to remain in place as Lord Blackwolf glared at her.
“She is the reason we have the word Undrae in our language. She is a creature I had hoped was extinct. There is nothing more unnatural than this thing before us, Elijah, and I urge you to end it here,” Lord Blackwolf answered softly.
“End it? You mean kill her?” Dominic gasped, his eyes widening. “Lord Arovan, please the child is innocent. She does no wrong, and I swear to you she keeps her powers closely guarded so that she doesn’t harm so much as a blade of grass.”
Before the High Lord of Arovan could respond, the tent flap opened once more and General Troyelle pushed a manacled young man before the High Lords. The man was filthy and dressed in the Rivasan colors of red and yellow. His blond hair was matted with blood and his eyes were wild as he searched the faces in the tent for a sign of what was to become of him.
“Amlon, you are convicted of treason and aiding the enemy of our land. You are native of Glis, and yet you have betrayed your countrymen by leading the Rivasan forces through Arovan. If not for you, Micah Arovan and Honor Hai’dia might still live. You have been sentenced to death, but you plead that you are innocent. Because of this, I give you another option.” Nicoli smiled coldly at the man as he slowly turned to look at Zoelyn. “The girl possesses unusual magic. Simply touch her so that we may learn the truth and you may win your freedom.”
Zoelyn stepped back quickly and shook her head at the prisoner. “He lies,” she hissed, her eyes widening.
“To insult a High Lord in that fashion is a grave offense, child,” Lord Blackwolf scolded, shaking his head in disapproval at her, though his serpent-like smile never faded. “If you are innocent you have nothing to fear, Amlon,” the high lord pressed and waved a hand in her direction.
Amlon looked between the High Lord and Zoelyn and then back, his eyes still wide with panic. “All I have to do is touch her?” he asked in a hesitant voice.
“Milord, please stop this,” Dominic begged, his eyes moving from Troyelle to Elijah and back.
“My son is dead and this man claims he is innocent,” Elijah began in a quiet voice. He regarded the prisoner with a cold stare and nodded to Nicoli. “I approve of this test.”
“I don’t!” Zoelyn broke in loudly as the prisoner took a step toward her. “Please don’t touch me. It won’t save you. I promise you that.” “You think he will die if he touches you, then?” Lord Blackwolf asked, holding a hand up to stop Amlon from approaching her any closer.
Slowly, the High lord rose from his chair and moved around the table to stare down at her. His every movement reminded her of a predator and it took all of her will to keep from stepping away from him. Had she moved, though, it would have put her even closer to the doomed prisoner and she knew Blackwolf himself wouldn’t get close enough to touch her. The desperate man might, however.
“I don’t know if he will or not, but I don’t want to risk it. I don’t like hurting people or animals or plants for that matter, Lord Blackwolf. I don’t want this test of yours,” Zoelyn cried, her voice rising as she
searched the tent for anyone willing to help her escape his torment.
Blackwolf nodded slowly at her and lifted his hand. A pulse of magic filled the air and the earth bucked under her feet propelling her toward the prisoner. Stumbling, she tried desperately to avoid the man, but he was quicker and had balance on his side. Even with the manacles on his wrists he still managed to break her fall. The world seemed to slow as Zoelyn looked from his filthy hands grasping her upper arms tightly to his wide blue eyes filled with pain and utter confusion. She could feel her curse draining him and watched in breathless panic as his eyes glazed and his skin darkened. By the time she regained her balance the man was dead and she knew it had taken only seconds.
“Now, imagine a Blight with those powers, Elijah, because if they find out she exists, they will breed with her. We know they seek out the most powerful for their mates and after witnessing that can you truly tell me she is not powerful? She is Undrae. She is a servant of death. Her kind are a curse upon us and must be extinguished,” Lord Blackwolf said calmly as he returned to his seat at the table.
“I agree with you about the Blights,” Elijah Arovan began slowly, his gaze moving from the dead man to Zoelyn. His expression was much calmer than she had expected and still there was no loathing on his face despite what he had seen. “I do not agree with you on her death, however,” he continued after a long pause. All eyes in the tent moved to him as he let out a long sigh and offered her a faint smile. “You are terrifying, girl, but I saw how you tried to avoid that man even knowing he was a traitor. Given what I have seen, I have a question for you, Dominic.”
“Yes, Milord?” Dominic’s voice sounded faint and his eyes were locked on the shriveled husk on the ground before him. Both Dominic and she had always wondered how powerful was her power to siphon life. Now they had their answer.
Bile rose in her throat and Zoelyn stared down at her own boots in shame. It was bad enough knowing she had killed someone, but the feeling of energy and warmth flowing through her was even worse. She almost agreed with Nicoli on his reasoning for killing her. The Blights were creatures of impulse and if one had powers such as hers it would kill as quickly as it could simply to achieve the sense of wellbeing she had now. They were all right. She was Undrae in every sense of the word.
“If you were trying so hard to keep her from being noticed why did you bring her with you here? This is a very crowded camp. Surely you knew she would be noticed here?” Elijah asked with a thoughtful expression on his face. His gaze had returned to her once more and he seemed to be studying her hair and eyes with interest.
Zoelyn didn’t need to look in a mirror to know what he was seeing. It had been the same with the kitten as it was with the fish so she knew how she looked now. Her skin would be pale rather than grey and her hair and eyes would be gold. All magic seemed to have its own signature on her body and life essence always showed as gold.
“I knew the battle was a very large one and that I would likely be gone for some time. I didn’t want to leave her alone in the village, Milord,” Dominic answered quietly.
“Were you afraid she would damage something or injure someone?” Elijah asked, though by his tone she could tell he already knew the answer to his own question.
“I was afraid of what would happen to her without my protection, Milord,” Dominic answered and shrugged. “The villagers don’t understand her at all, Milord. They fear her, but they respect me so they leave her be when I am there,” he added after a short sigh.
“As I suspected,” Elijah said with a slight nod and leaned back in his chair once more. Still watching her, he steepled his fingers in front of his mouth and frowned. His gaze dropped to the corpse lying before his table once more and then he nodded again more firmly. “Because of the bruise on her face as well as your answer and my respect for Lord Blackwolf’s concerns, I will be taking your Ward, Dominic. She isn’t safe where she is, though it’s by no fault of yours. I am sure you have done what you could for her while she has been in your care,” Elijah said at last.
“Taking her, Milord?” Dominic stammered as if he didn’t quite understand what he was hearing.
“She will return with me to my home and live under my protection, Dominic, until further notice. I will not kill her for simply existing. From what I can see, she has committed no sins. Were she aggressive as the Blights are, I would not hesitate to deal with her accordingly, but from what I have seen she is simply a scared child that seems to carry a very large curse on her shoulders. Perhaps, given time, a method of helping her will be found, but until then she is mine to look after.” Lord Arovan stood as he spoke and looked down at her. “I leave for the capital tomorrow, Zoey. Please be prepared to ride as well.” His gaze moved to each of the others in the tent and he nodded faintly. “We are done here. Troyelle, please do something with that body and be discreet about it. I don’t want questions rising about what killed him.”
Zoelyn watched them all with a detached shock, her eyes slowly moving to Dominic who seemed to be taking the news as poorly as she was. It was better than death, she supposed, but not by much. The capital was brimming with people and not only would she be in the capital she would be in the palace itself. She had imagined a hundred ways that this meeting could end, none of them had been good, and yet none of them had been this one either. Elijah had caught her completely flat footed with his choice.
“Come on, Zoey,” Dominic urged, and she nodded faintly as she followed him silently from the tent. It was hard to believe this was the last night she would spend in his company. For seven years he had been the only person in her life. Now everything was changing and she couldn’t think of a single way to stop it. Even if she ran from the camp, she lost Dominic. Swallowing heavily, she fought back tears and tried to stop her mind from thinking about what was waiting for her tomorrow.
Chapter 3
Southern Goswin
Neph closed the door behind him and it took a force of will to keep from slamming it so hard the boards rattled. For the past two weeks it had been a constant struggle to keep order among his people, and it was wearing on his nerves. Most of his remaining people were too old or too young to fight, but the ones that were of fighting age seemed to have nothing on their minds but pissing him off. It was barely two days into the week and he had already had to kill a man for challenging his right to lead. That brought the total number of Delvay warriors he had killed to six since he had arrived in Goswin. At the current rate he was progressing he wouldn’t have enough of a fighting force left over to even contemplate retaking his land.
Closing his eyes he tilted his head back and slowed his breathing. After several moments his fists unclenched and the desire to rip off someone’s face began to fade. Life had never been this difficult at the Academy. Sure, Valor and Finn could be obnoxious at times, but he had never truly wanted to kill them. The desire to punch them in the face a few dozen times had been there, but that was only natural considering how they behaved. Every time he had a conversation with his own people he had the overwhelming desire to light someone’s face on fire and attempt to put out the flames with a knife. They simply didn’t listen and they were as thick as stones when it came to strategy. Honestly he believed Kadan had killed off everyone with the slightest bit of common sense and left him with a herd of halfwits to command. He had no doubt whatsoever that Kadan was sitting in the afterlife laughing his ass off at his little brother’s difficulties.
“Damn it,” Neph muttered darkly as he realized his hands were once again clenched into fists and he was gritting his teeth just from thinking about dealing with his people. Closing his eyes once more, he leaned back heavily against the door and willed himself back to calm once more. “I need to punch something,” he muttered darkly after several long breaths.
“Neph, are you in there?” Shade’s voice called from the hall beyond and Neph’s hands twitched in response.
“I swear to the Divine, Shade, if you come any closer to this room I will not be res
ponsible for what happens to you,” Neph warned loudly not bothering to move from his spot against the door. At least with his full weight resting against it there was no way Shade could get into the room. It wasn’t that he wanted to preserve Shade’s life; it was simply not in his best interest to kill the little bastard. Neph was Madren’s guest until he reclaimed his own land and Shade was Madren’s friend.
“Are we having a moment, Neph?” Shade asked with amusement clear in his voice.
Neph cocked his head and glanced over his shoulder at the closed door. By the sound of Shade’s voice he was just on the other side of the door and likely leaning against the door frame. It was possible, if he aimed the blow just right he could jab a dagger between the boards of the door and stab the little bastard. It wouldn’t be a fatal blow, but Neph would take what satisfaction he could get. “I really think you should go away now, Shade,” Neph advised through clenched teeth.
“Madren just received a letter from the capital, Neph. It is apparently from the Empress Symphony to all High Lords. There is going to be a council in Sanctuary and all High Lords are requested to attend. There is a problem, though, Neph. Your name isn’t on the missive as a High Lord. There is a Rivasan listed as the Lord of Delvay currently,” Shade’s voice had grown more serious and he paused as if waiting for an answer. Long breaths passed as Neph fought to control his already frayed temper. “Madren wants to know how you want him to respond to the letter. He is considering refusing her invitation unless she names you as the lord of Delvay.” Shade paused again. “You know, I really hate having this conversation through a door. If I could see your face I’m sure I could just read the level of homicidal lunatic you are right now from your expression and decide what to tell Madren without you even saying a word.”
“It’s a really, really high level right now, Shade,” Neph snarled. The trick of slow breathing wasn’t helping at all anymore. Every muscle in his body was rigid and if anyone so much as looked at him wrong he knew he would snap. That didn’t bode well for the irritating little worm outside his door, but then he had tried to warn Shade to leave him alone.
The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 4 The Blessed Curse Page 8
