44. Vexxion
44
VEXXION
I ’d just awakened yet another collared Nullen for the king to drain and stood by his side with a bland expression on my face as he guzzled down the man’s power—my power, that is. I’d gotten so used to siphoning varying amounts of it to Ivenrail that I could almost do it in my sleep.
“Not too much,” High Advisor Adwarin chittered from my right, his voice lifted in excitement and his fingers twitching at his sides. I’d only caught him draining a collared Nullen once, and he still bore the mark of my slash across the top of his chest. It peeked above the collar of his robe, and he must see it whenever he peered into the mirror. I’d made an enemy that day, adding another to the large group I’d found at Bledmire Court. If only I could kill him right now for taking from Fury. “Save some for—”
“You?” I lifted one eyebrow and moved over to the Nullen, tugging the man away from the king. “You’ve taken enough. ”
“I decide when I’ve had enough.” Ivenrail’s dazed gaze met mine, and his speech slurred. “You have no say in this.”
“Perhaps you’d rather I stopped awakening them.”
“Someone else could do it for me.”
His new enforcer? The name hadn’t yet been announced, though I had my suspicions.
“It takes a delicate touch,” I said. “Or their magic will be tainted.” That wasn’t true but the king believed it.
“You have no say in this,” Ivenrail snarled.
“Don’t I?” I growled.
Three collared Nullens standing to the right of the advisor jerked. One slid sideways, melting behind Brodine who continued to stare blankly at the floor where he’d clustered with the others. Even the advisor’s gaze dropped from mine.
Only Madrood, to the left and behind the king as always, continued to stare at me. I hadn’t decided what, if anything, I should do about the king’s pet. Had he purposefully saved my fury or was he startled into killing the Nullen as she’d suggested? This dragon had been loyal only to Ivenrail from the time he hatched, sliding right into Ivenrail’s waiting hand. The king showed more favor to his pet than he ever had his sons or whatever fae woman currently warmed his bed.
Vexxion! Fury’s voice burned through my skill. The horror and panic in her tone made time stop. My heart plummeted. A silent scream echoed as terror’s icy grip wrenched me sideways.
Where? I asked Drask.
Through his gaze, I studied the empty sitting area. She hadn’t taken him with her.
Where are you ?
She didn’t reply.
“I need to go,” I said, hating that I had to say even this.
Ivenrail lazily looked at me, his fingers gliding back and forth along the arm of his throne as he continued to float in the bliss of my power. “Why?”
“One of the high lords has arrived to attend your wedding and has need of an awakening.”
Grunting, the king’s lips thinned.
High Advisor Adwarin’s breath caught, and he subtly leaned closer to hear each and every word I said.
“Very well.” Ivenrail stared dreamily at the floor. There’d be no more business conducted today. “Return when you’ve finished.”
A command, not a request.
With a curt nod, I flitted to the aerie, but I didn’t find Tempest outside the building.
Where are you, Fury? I bit out. Tell me.
The lack of reply tore through my belly, gutting me.
When I stumbled over a Nullen lying dead across the end of the hall, I knew what had happened.
Ignoring all promises and respect, I flung my mind into Tempest’s to see through her eyes. Then I flitted to the highest peak of the mountain, landing behind her as she stood on the edge of the cliff, staring down with dismay.
She kept whispering the same thing, over and over. Dead. Finally dead. Blood poured from wounds on her arms and legs.
My breathing ragged, I cupped her shoulders and gently turned her my way, studying her face that looked like someone had torched it .
She stared up at me with eyes so dull that for one instant, I feared some fiend had found her. Drained her. That she was gone, and I’d never find her again.
“I killed Delaine,” she murmured in an almost singsong voice. “The bitch is dead. The bitch is very much dead.” Strength started to churn through her words, and I welcomed it with relief. “She didn’t think I had it in me, but I surprised us both.”
Only now did I hear the uproar behind me. I turned, keeping her snug in my arms.
Iasar, the dragon Tempest freed from the door, kept blasting icy flames at five Lieges standing near the edge of the scruffy forest. Their stolen magic combatted his quite easily.
I needed to exercise caution. He’d know me.
Two Lieges peeled away from the others, moving around behind the dragon while he continued to scald the rest. The Liege’s arms lifted, and white bands of power—stolen from Nullens and Ivenrail because they had none of their own—shot toward Iasar, freezing him as if he’d been turned into petrified wood.
“No,” Tempest cried, staggering away from me. She hobbled toward the dragon as if, once more, she’d save him. When I caught her around her waist, she struggled. “Let me go. I have to help him.”
Flitting her from here was the wisest option, but I suspected if I left the dragon she’d befriended at the mercy of the Lieges, she’d never forgive me.
I lifted her with my threads and placed her farther up the mountain. “Wait here. Please.” I added the last because of the storm clouds gathering in her eyes. “You’re hurt. Let me do this for you.”
At her nod, I flitted, landing behind the dragon. I shot my threads toward the Liege on the right. Feed. They did so eagerly, consuming the Liege until only his cloak and bone coin lay smoldering on the stony ground.
I eliminated another, and the instant he died, Iasar burst free of the Liege’s power, shooting up toward the sky. I stalked toward the remaining Lieges, my threads snaking out, snapping around two of them. My magic sliced through them while consuming their power.
The king wasn’t the only one who could drain, though I only took from those who needed killing, those who stole power from others.
After sending a sharp glance my way, the last Liege melted into the forest, and I let him go for one reason only.
Turning, I flitted to my fury.
Iasar floated above her, undulating in the wind, his icy blue hide fracturing the sunlight, shooting it in arcs around him.
As I eased toward him, remaining at his back but still aiming for Tempest, he whispered to her.
“Your path will ssssplit ssssoon,” he hissed, his head close enough he could nip out and sever it from her neck if he chose.
I clenched my fists and barely restrained my threads. Once I touched her, I’d flit from here, taking her from this dragon’s sight.
She gazed up at him, her face rapt.
“Only one path leadssss where you must go.” His words slurred through the air, dissipating like mist in full sunlight as they reached me. “But the path issss not here or there or in the worldssss beyond. Find it.”
“I will.”
“Do not forget your promisssse.” His head swiveled, and his gaze landed on me. While I read a hint of thanks there, I saw no forgiveness.
A pop, and Iasar disappeared.
I flung myself forward, catching my fury before she toppled to the ground. I flitted us to our suite, where I wrapped my threads around the room so tightly, even Ivenrail wouldn’t find a way through.
With a flick of my finger, I filled the tub with steaming, scented water. I removed her clothing.
I sealed the wounds on her arms quickly and healed her face, then attended to her right leg before turning to her left. My breath hissed up my throat, and I dropped to my knees in front of her.
“I’m alright,” she said, her voice wavering as much as her body.
Bracing the backs of her legs, I stared at the mangled flesh on her thigh. Anguish sunk its claws into me, tearing and thrashing through my chest. I gasped for air, every breath complete torture.
“I’m sorry.” I gazed up at her as I laid my palm on her filleted skin, using magic to delicately draw the edges together and more power to sear a healing spell deep below the surface. One of the cuts had hit the bone, slicing a segment of it away, and I repaired that as well. Finally, her skin had closed over and her blood no longer flowed .
The wounds she’d received inside would haunt her dreams for many nights.
“Delaine,” she whispered. “She took me there. She cut me and left me for the Lieges.” Her chin lifted and a spark of flint edged into her voice. Seeing it made my eyes burn. She was here. She was still with me. She was safe. “I killed her. Thrust a dagger into her chest. When she tried to pull it out, I shoved her off the cliff. I watched as she fell. Watched as she hit the side, smacking into it until she was much too broken to ever be put back together again. I even watched as she landed on the rocks far below. She won’t heal from that.”
When Tempest slumped toward me, I caught her, straightening while cradling her in my arms. “I should’ve been there for you.”
“You came at the right time. I did it. I did it.” Her voice came out strangled. “The high advisor’s going to come for my throat. My heart too. He’ll rip it from my chest, hold it aloft while it’s still beating, then do something horrible to it. Burn it maybe. Does anyone do things like that?”
I carried her into the bathroom. Like before, I climbed into the steaming tub fully clothed. As I settled her across my chest and she snuggled into my frame, tremors shook her wounded body.
I held her. I never wanted to let go.
The corners of my eyes stung. Only this woman could draw tears from me. No one else had since I watched Ivenrail rip my mother apart.
After gently bathing her, I dried her body, taking care of the still-scarlet strips on her thigh. I carried her to the bed, using magic to tug back the flooferdar covers. I laid her on the soft sheets and quickly removed my wet clothing before climbing into the bed beside her.
She slipped into my arms. Clinging to my shoulders, she wrapped her leg around me.
She didn’t weep.
She didn’t ask me how to process what just happened.
She healed.