29. Chapter 29
Chapter twenty-nine
I spent the next hour or so in the glen behind the castle, watching the adult crescia fly around. The babies were cute, but the older ones were fascinating. They were incredibly active—dancing, preening, cuddling, and swooping about.
Thorell landed on me at one point and nuzzled my cheek. I gave a couple quick strokes down his feathers, and he flew off. I wondered which one was Sin’s. I would have thought with as much time as he spent in the arena that his crescia would have been nearby at least once.
Laying at the base of the largest tree to stare up into the branches, I let my mind wander over the possibilities of what my crescia might look like. If they changed to suit the bonded, then I felt bad for whichever one chose me. What type of fundamentally damaged monstrosity would I end up with to match all my own issues? It almost wasn’t fair.
To them.
Maybe I wouldn’t even get a crescia. God, how messed up would it be if this was all some great big mistake? I still didn’t have any powers or anything to confirm that I actually was the supposed savior. What if I went through all this, and at the end I was still just boring old Rain?
I thought back to my argument with Sin. How I begged him to hurt me so I could feel an inkling of magic in my veins. I spent almost ten years with the memory of that night buried so deeply in the recesses of my mind that I forgot about the scars most days. And I ripped it all wide open for the potential of magic. The potential to feel special.
I could feel myself spiraling and dug my meds out of my tunic pocket. I knew where this was headed, and it would be better to cut it off before things got much worse.
I waited another fifteen minutes or so until the soothing calm of Klonopin washed over my brain, quieting the churning maelstrom of painful thoughts.
Both suns were fairly high in the sky, so I assumed it was safe to say the morning had officially become the afternoon. Which meant it was time to go see Corym. If Sin wouldn’t help me with my power, hopefully his father could at least help me with the language.
I made my way to the library and was pleased to see Corym standing on a ladder, shelving a book, with no traces of last night's distress on his face.
He shot a glance over his shoulder at me and gave me a huge grin. “Raynella, you are right on time.” He shoved the book into place and climbed down.
“How come there are so few books,” I asked, while I waited for him to clean up his desk. “I would have thought a royal library would be bigger.”
“Ah, yes, one would think that and rightfully so. However, King Verren does not allow literature from other courts to be kept here. So we are limited to only those produced within the Diamond Court, and writing has never been much of a socially supported pursuit.”
I sifted through his words, trying to determine the meaning behind his stilted speech. “Are you saying writing isn’t cool here?”
“Yes, I suppose that would be the accepted vernacular,” Corym said, chuckling softly. “The Diamond Kings of centuries past have always had their citizens focused on building up the strength of our court more than anything else. For their own protection of course.”
I frowned. “Protection from what?”
“From the other courts,” he stated plainly, as if confused as to why I would even ask. “There have been few wars throughout Rivella’s history, but they have all been extremely destructive. The damage that powerful elemental casters can do is something quite terrifying to behold.” His eyes shuttered for a moment. “You did not come here for a history lesson, though.” He gestured toward his back office. “Shall we see what we can do about your language problem?”
I grinned, excitement bubbling up in me as I followed him into the small room. He seemed happy and healthy. Maybe the transfer would actually work this time.
Corym sat on the sofa and indicated the spot beside him.
“So, you’re better today?” I asked hopefully. “No headaches?”
He gave my leg a gentle pat. “You do not need to worry about me, Raynella. Not only have I spent my life providing knowledge to others, but I have also spent many years anxiously awaiting your arrival so that I might play a small part in your journey to save Rivella. I want nothing more than to help you.”
I almost asked how he could have so much kindness in him when Sin had so little, but I didn’t want to rip open old wounds.
“Okay then,” I said, clapping my hands together and rubbing them briskly. “Let’s do this. Anything I need to know first? Dey said the experience was disorienting.”
Corym scratched his chin for a second. “I suppose that would be an accurate description. Though it does vary person to person. Do remember that I have never done this on one such as yourself before.”
I didn’t know if he was talking about the fact that I was half-human, or the fact that I had no magic yet. Either way it didn’t matter, I wasn’t turning back now.
“That’s fine,” I said quickly. “I’ll take the risk.”
Corym let out a slow breath as he scrutinized my face. If he was looking for any sign of hesitation, he wouldn’t find it.
“Take my hands, Raynella, and close your eyes.”
I did as he said and waited for the crushing influx of the Rivellan language to flood my brain.
And waited.
And waited.
I cracked an eye open. Corym still sat across from me, but now his face was pinched in concentration, beads of sweat forming on his brow.
“Is something still wrong?” I asked wearily, afraid he might be back in the same situation as yesterday.
He let go of my hands and shook his head. “There is something foreign swimming around inside your mind. I have never seen anything quite like it. I want to give you the language, Princess, but I am still fighting my own hesitancy. I do not think I can work around whatever this new thing is as well.”
“You’re still fighting to help me? I thought you were better?”
“I am much better, but there is still a reservation inside me that I do not fully understand. Nor do I understand what this is that floats at the forefront of your mind.”
I tried analyzing my own brain, but I had no clue what to even look for. It definitely wasn’t something I did. I wanted this more than anything. Frustrated, I slumped back against the couch. The movement caused my Klonopin bottle to shake, and a sick feeling hit me.
“Corym, is there a chance that a medication from my world could affect your abilities?”
He rubbed his forehead thoughtfully. “What type of medication?”
I swallowed. The last thing I needed was for Corym to think I was crazy or defective in some way. “It sort of… calms my mind. I guess that’s the best way to describe it.”
Corym stood and paced around the room, his anxious steps threatening to wear a hole in the rug. “It is possible,” he said. “There is simply no way to know how human drugs might impact your Vitaean half. It could interfere with my abilities.”
I groaned. “So you’re saying we have to wait until it’s out of my system?” I wanted to punch the sofa. Once again I was so close to making progress only to be shut down. Story of my life.
Corym tapped a finger absently against his chin, lost in thought. The perfect picture of a scholar trying to solve a problem.
I saw a flicker of light in his eyes and sat up. “Is there another way around it?”
“Perhaps, perhaps,” he said, still not quite fully present. I waited patiently, giving him the time needed to sort through whatever he was considering.
Finally, he grabbed my hands. “Raynella, I think I have a solution, if you are amenable.”
“Anything,” I blurted out, and it was sad how much I actually meant it.
“This substance lingers at the forefront of your active mind, yes, but your subconscious may be unaffected. I could attempt to deposit the information there, and once the medication is gone, you would be able to access it. I cannot say when that will be or how quickly the language will take root, but it is worth a try. Provided you are willing.”
“Oh, I’m very willing,” I said, shifting my body so I was facing him full on, the eager student ready to learn.
“Splendid. This is my first time using the subconscious, so please be patient with me.”
I laughed and gave him a sly wink. “It’s my first time, too, Corym.” He smiled politely, and I realized the joke had gone over his head. Seriously, how was he related to Sin?
I closed my eyes again and braced myself for whatever was about to happen. Luckily, it was less than a minute before I felt a tingling in my head. It was like wind chimes blowing in the breeze—a gentle sensation that tickled and danced through my head. I relaxed into the couch. I could handle this.
Then everything changed. A gasp escaped my lips as the gentle tingling grew into zaps of lightning arcing through my brain, each one a dagger of crackling electric pain. I was spinning, tumbling, falling into a black abyss of torment, clawing frantically at nothing. I was lost to the darkness and the purest suffering I had ever known.
Someone was screaming, such a horrific sound, and only when it began to fade did I realize it had been me.
Corym released my hands, and I fell back against the couch, my head lolling to the side. The misery faded but not the memory. I didn’t think that would ever fade.
“Did it work?” I croaked out, my voice scratchy and dry.
The older scholar's face was a mess of exhaustion and worry. I wanted to reach out and smooth the prominent wrinkles of his forehead, but I could barely move my body.
“Yes. I believe it worked.” His face contorted from worry to pain. “I am so immensely sorry, Raynella. If I had known…”
“Known what? You said anything could happen. Was it the most intense agony of my life? No doubt. But it was over fairly quick and I survived. I’ll take the win.” I started to sit up, but Corym placed a hand against my shoulder.
“Do not try to move yet. You should rest.”
“I’m fine, Corym, seriously. I can handle a few seconds of pain.”
He shook his head and kept his hand on my shoulder, gently pressing me onto the couch. “Princess, you have been screaming for over an hour.”
I stayed in Corym’s office for a little while longer, scarcely comprehending how what felt like seconds had actually been much longer. Mostly I was just grateful that it hadn’t been the other way around.
When I was able to get to my feet without help, Corym let me leave, but not before reiterating at least three times that the language would gradually settle into my brain, and he could not predict how soon or how fast it would happen.
I gave him a hug before heading out, and strangely it felt less awkward than the one I had given my father. Corym might not be my actual dad, but he had the empathy and kindness I still craved from Verren.
Back in my room, I collapsed on my bed, content to pass out for the rest of the afternoon. To my dismay, less than five minutes after my back hit the comforter, the sisters were in my room eager to prepare me for dinner.
I never asked what the sisters' magic was, but their real talent had to be transforming me every night from a gutter rat into something frighteningly close to a princess. They had gone all out tonight with an elaborate updo held together by six- inch-long diamond encrusted pins that stuck out of my hair in an exquisite explosion of sparkles. Combined with a lemon-colored gown that faded down through shades of orange into a deep crimson, I looked like a walking sunburst in the best way possible.
Dey’s timing was once again impeccable, arriving just as they secured my bodice, and he escorted me to dinner, happily chatting about the upcoming ball. The entire time he remained oblivious to my slow steps and quiet murmurs of agreement.
True to his word, Dey had made sure Jo was seated across from us, and I was pleased to see the jubilant expression on her face.
“I have never sat so close to King Verren before,” she cooed happily inside my head. “Normally only his senior advisors are allowed here. I am usually lucky if I don’t have to sit with empty seats all around me.”
It was still a gut punch every time I remembered how the people here treated Jo simply because her method of communication made them uncomfortable.
“I will tell my father you should be allowed to sit here from now on. This archaic seating arrangement is just a stupid power move that serves no real purpose that I can see.”
My father arrived then, and I was surprised to see his step falter when he observed Jo seated across from me. Apparently Dey hadn’t given him a heads up. Interesting, considering he always seemed like a total scaredy cat when it came to anything involving his king. My father quickly recovered and took his seat at the head of the table.
Our meals followed shortly after, and I tried to ignore the disappointment I felt when I realized Sin wasn’t coming to dinner. I hoped I hadn’t caused any permanent damage to our friendship. Not that we actually were friends. I honestly had no clue what we were, but something had definitely changed when I walked out of that arena.
“How did your meeting with the seamstress go, Raynella?” my father asked, and I shifted to face him, letting Dey strike up a conversation with the courtier on his other side.
“It went okay, actually,” I said once I swallowed the bite in my mouth. I was still working on my princess manners, but I wasn’t a total lost cause.
“Wonderful,” he said, the smile on his face reminding me of how he had been when I first arrived—genuinely happy.
“Tomorrow,” Dey said, and I turned to look at him.
“What’s that?” I asked, his back still facing away.
He shifted to look at me. “I am sorry, Princess. I was speaking to Ferdin here. He doesn’t know English so I must converse in Rivellan.” He gave me an apologetic look, then returned to his conversation.
I frowned. He’d definitely said 'tomorrow', and it hadn’t been in Rivellan. I rubbed at my temples, trying to massage away the headache that had taken root.
“Are you all right, Raynella?” my father asked.
“Yeah, just a headache. I’m fine. Probably need to drink more water.” I grabbed the glass in front of me and chugged half in a single go.
Further down the table, the word 'absolutely' caught my attention, and it was followed up with a boisterous laugh. I glanced over, but the only person laughing was a portly fellow who definitely shouldn’t be speaking English.
What the hell was going on?
The pressure at my temples was steadily increasing, and I kept rubbing at them, hoping to alleviate even a hint of the pain.
“Rain, are you sure that you are all right?” Jo asked inside my head, her voice thick with worry.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I muttered and attempted to give her a reassuring look. I must have failed because the concern on her face held firm.
“Simply atrocious,” a high-pitched female voice said, the sound grating and unfamiliar. I whipped my head back around and pinned the voice on a snooty looking courtier a few seats away that was draped in far too many jewels for a casual dinner.
“How…?” The word just slipped out, and both Jo and my father gave me a curious look.
“How what, Raynella?” he pressed.
Before I could answer, a sharp bolt of pain exploded inside my skull, and I let out a pitiful whimper, clutching my head. A red hot knife attempted to pry my eyes from their sockets, and I pushed back from the table. “I’m sorry,” I managed to grit out through tightly clenched teeth. “This migraine is only getting worse. I think I need to go lie down.”
“Of course,” he said hesitantly as if he could tell it was more than a mere headache. “I will send a servant up with the rest of your meal shortly.”
“No, that’s okay,” I said, backing away from the table. “I had plenty. I don’t need anything else. I’ll… I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow. I think I need some rest.”
Sprinting to my room, I only just closed my door when the searing pain detonated with such intensity that I could no longer hold back my screams. This was not the sharp lightning from before. This was acid. Venom. It was a cancerous poison that consumed every cell in my brain only to spit it back out so it could dissolve them once more.
I managed to crawl onto my bed moments before the agonizing sensation fully consumed me, and a wave of darkness pulled me under.