Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Something was definitely wrong. If only Fedra could see. Unfortunately, she was relying solely on her other senses. While she picked up a lot with her ears, she was missing subtleties.
“Is everything all right?” she asked after Con and Marcus had departed.
Rhi laughed, though it sounded a little forced. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I thought I heard someone dragging a foot.”
“That was me on my way over to you.”
Fedra had to give it to Rhi when she slid her foot over the floor to demonstrate. It was similar to what she had heard, but not the same.
“See?” Rhi said.
Fedra smiled. “Oh, yes. I see how I mistook it.”
“There’s still tea. Would you like me to refill your cup?”
“Thank you,” Fedra said.
She sat back and listened as Rhi chatted more about the children. The easy way Rhi commanded the conversation, moving fluidly from one story to the next while also giving Fedra time for any questions, proved that she had been in similar situations before.
Or maybe she was reading too much into it, and Rhi was just keeping her company. It was difficult to know without more known variables. She was hindered by her weakened body and blindness, both of which put her at a disadvantage. Whether she was in enemy territory or not remained to be seen.
Having her eyes covered did allow her to ignore Rhi without the other woman being aware.
Fedra thought again about the sound she’d heard when Marcus and Con had still been in the room.
She was sure the foot dragging had come from somewhere close to her.
Rhi had indeed hurried over, but the sound had come well before she reached Fedra.
Con had been somewhere near the door. That meant it must have come from Marcus.
Why had they lied about it? Had Con or Rhi harmed him in some way? Marcus hadn’t made a sound to indicate that he was injured, and the three seemed friendly from the multiple conversations she had overheard.
If Con and Rhi hadn’t hurt Marcus, then what had?
There had been nothing in his voice, in the way he walked, or even when he had his body next to hers earlier to indicate he was injured.
Did that mean whatever it was had happened suddenly?
Dread began to swirl in her chest. She tightened her fingers around the cup. Had someone used magic?
She desperately wanted to ask Rhi, but, at the same time, she didn’t want to know. Because once the words were past her lips, there was no taking them back. She would have to explain things. That time would come, but it had to be once she’d regained her eyesight. Until then, she was at their mercy.
No one had said a word about magic, other than when she first woke. Had they intentionally kept it out of their conversations? That was certainly a possibility. Especially if they realized that she made things difficult for anyone and anything with magic. Then again, they could be devoid of magic.
She had a vague memory of being told there were those on the realm who despised anyone with powers.
If that were the case, she could be among those very individuals now.
It would make sense that they never spoke about it.
If she brought it up, they might assume she had magic and drive her out. Or worse.
No, it was better if she kept it to herself for now and waited until one of them brought it up again. She would know better by then how to respond to any questions and what to ask herself.
“Fedra?”
Rhi called her name softly. Fedra inwardly winced. Rhi must have realized she hadn’t been paying attention. “I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?”
“There’s no need. I kept talking for too long. I’ll leave you to rest now.” Rhi took the cup from her hands.
Fedra slid down on the bed as Rhi got to her feet.
She rolled her head to the side and pretended to sleep as she listened to Rhi walk to the door.
The hinges creaked faintly as it closed.
Fedra remained there for several minutes, making sure she was alone in the room, then she sat up and pushed the covers away.
She hadn’t expected them to leave her unaccompanied.
They must have thought she couldn’t do much—and they were correct.
But she might very well have lost her sight forever.
In that case, she needed to get accustomed to things.
First things first, she needed to be able to move about the room without having someone guide her.
Fedra swung her legs over the side of the bed and touched the pillow, moving her hand toward the headboard, feeling along the wood.
There must be a table nearby. She reached out and bumped it with the back of her hand.
Clumsily, she found the edge and used both hands to trace around two corners and then along the front.
The front was longer than the side, making it a rectangle.
Next, she moved to the top of the table and patted around until she bumped into something solid.
She felt up it only to jerk her hand back with a hiss.
She grabbed her fingers that now throbbed.
Was it a candle flame that she had come into contact with?
To be sure, she used her uninjured hand to find the object again.
This time, instead of worrying about how tall it was, she focused on the feel of it.
Once her fingers met what she thought was wax, she dug her fingernails into it, then withdrew them and ran the remnants between her fingertips. It was, indeed, wax.
“Why candles?” she murmured aloud.
Did these people not have electrical power? Were they still that primitive? She would have to wait until someone returned to learn that. Until then, she would continue her investigation of the room.
Fedra got to her feet and took a deep breath.
The stones were cold and smooth. She had just warmed her feet, but it was a minor discomfort.
She bent over and felt around the table, shuffling until she encountered a wall, then straightened.
Using one hand on the wall, she held the other out in front of her and began slowly walking forward.
She didn’t think about counting steps until later. This wouldn’t be her only time around the room. There would be other chances to count each step. For now, she needed to learn the layout and assess the obstacles.
Step by step, she walked, waiting to reach the corner.
She stubbed her toe on something. The sound of metal scraping against tile reached her before hot wax dripped on her outstretched hand.
She yanked it back a second too late. A sharp, stinging pain radiated from her wrist and over the back of her hand.
Fedra stumbled backward, praying that she didn’t catch on fire. She quickly grabbed the ends of the robe as she bent over and felt around the fabric, but there was no smell of anything burning. Still, she was worried about the candle and where it might have rolled to.
She dropped down onto her hands and knees and felt around until she found drops of wax.
She followed them and discovered that the candle had rolled behind her and had gone out in the fall.
A sigh fell from her lips. That had been a close call.
She could’ve set herself on fire, and there wouldn’t have been anyone around to save her.
It might be reckless of her to do this on her own, but staying in bed wasn’t doing anything to help her. She had pulled herself up from the bottom before. She would do it again. And again. However many times it took, she would keep going. Because the only other option was to give up.
Fedra climbed to her feet and cautiously felt around in front of her for what she had struck earlier.
Her fingers brushed something solid, and she wrapped her hand around it to feel the slender metal rod.
Atop it was a flat surface, where the candle had rested.
She took the time to feel all the way down the metal to the four long feet that branched off.
Fortunately for her, there didn’t appear to be any other candles on it.
There would, however, likely be more of those candleholders around the room.
She stood and discovered that the holder was situated in the corner.
After walking around it, she continued along the next wall.
The door should be somewhere nearby. Sure enough, her fingers slid from stone to wood.
She faced the door and felt around it, noting that the handle was on the left side and the hinges were on the right.
Once she met stone again, she continued walking along the wall, moving little by little. She had no intention of running into more candles or being burned again. Her restraint paid off when her fingers hit metal. This time, Fedra easily moved around the candleholder without disturbing the candle.
That put her on the wall opposite her bed.
She gradually made her way down it, surprised not to encounter any type of furniture.
Also, surprisingly, there wasn’t another candleholder at the next corner.
She frowned but didn’t stop her exploration.
As she walked, she knew the tub had to be somewhere to her left.
It wasn’t the time to find it yet. She needed to be able to walk confidently along the walls before venturing into the middle of the room.
When she reached the final corner, she met a third candleholder. Yet no furniture. Not a table, chair, or even a dresser. It seemed odd. Or maybe it wasn’t. They’d probably brought her to a section of the city that wasn’t used. They were deeply suspicious of her, and they should be.
Fedra eventually found herself at the bed again. She was surprised at how tired she was from that little bit of movement. Her feet were like ice when she slid them beneath the covers and rubbed them together to try to warm them again.
The moment someone came in, they would notice the knocked-over candle.
She had hoped to make it around the room without anyone knowing what she had done, but there was no stopping it now.
It wasn’t as if she had been forbidden to leave the bed, though, and there was likely someone outside the door to ensure she didn’t wander off, but they couldn’t do anything about her walking around the room unless they wanted to shackle her to the bed.
A blind woman learning how to walk about wasn’t that big of a problem.
She didn’t intend to remain that way, however.
Others lived their entire lives without sight.
She would, too, if it came down to it. And even if that were the case, she would still find a way to carry out her mission.
It would be harder, but she would still do it.
Fedra drew in a deep breath and listened.
She was so used to the sounds of the city that the silence was deafening.
No longer did she hear the children laughing as they played, or the sounds of food being prepared.
She couldn’t listen in on random conversations.
Nor did she have the comforting sound of Marcus’s breathing.
She had wanted out of the pod. Now, she found herself missing the little things she had taken for granted while inside it. She wasn’t part of those who called Iron Hall home, but listening to them go about their daily lives had allowed her to believe she was.
Her wish had been granted. She had been woken.
This wasn’t her world or her people. Blind or not, she couldn’t—and shouldn’t—remain in the city.
Too many were counting on her to set things right.
It didn’t matter what year it was. She shouldn’t care how long she had been in stasis. There was only one objective, one goal.
Revenge.
An entire realm had been annihilated, and someone needed to pay for that. She had never wanted to be a hero. She had been fine living her quiet life. And that’s where she would’ve remained if the dragon hadn’t descended from the sky.
She could’ve destroyed all the dragons on Zora the moment she arrived, and she had wanted to do just that. It had been difficult not to give in, but she had been shown the bigger picture. In order to remove dragons from the universe entirely, she had to take out the Dragon Kings, too.
He had promised she would be woken when the Kings came to Zora. Now that she was out of the pod, it was time for vengeance.