Chapter 11 #2
I nod. Rannigan Bloodthief now votes for himself and his wife, and the Were King votes with Rannigan to be left in peace.
The fae do the same, knowing Bale’s not an unhinged monster who’ll come after them for no reason, which leaves him—and all of Torridaig—in the lurch.
Torridaig and Ruthinock always ally, but they can’t counter that bigger block, and Cealastra doesn’t weigh in unless there’s a tied vote.
Maybe there’s hope with the new Fae Queen coming to her first Council. If Bale can get her on his side and force a tied vote, Cealastra will either show up—or prove to everyone that she’s really gone.
“I’m pretty sure the usefulness of the Ellonrift Council is coming to an end.
” I rub a finger over the torque again. The magic in it feels like a hot-cold current pricking at my skin.
“It’s about intimidation instead of fairness now, and Cealastra clearly isn’t keeping Rannigan’s lies and bullying in check.
The only reason the Council ever worked was because the Star of Ellonrift was watching and guiding, but now, she either isn’t around or doesn’t care. ”
Slowly nodding, Sybil agrees with a long, troubled sigh. “If things keep up this way, Bale will retaliate. He’ll do what needs to be done, with or without the Council’s support.”
“I don’t know why he doesn’t back Rexton Hale’s claim to the Fanghaven throne. He’d get that historic alliance back and force a tied vote.” Wouldn’t that be better than all-out war?
“And force Cealastra to appear,” Sybil adds.
I press my lips together, not wanting to scare her with my dire feeling about the goddess.
No one really knows if she’s still with us or not.
Up until a couple of centuries ago, the often-tied votes used to compel Cealastra to choose sides.
Ever since the Vampire King orchestrated for that to never happen, Bloodwold does what it wants.
Maybe Cealastra is dead. Or maybe she deserted us.
The echo of Bale’s voice shudders through me, tearing a frayed edge off my heart. Endless abandonment rage. I clear my throat.
“What are your plans while I’m gone?” I ask, changing the subject.
Sybil seems to perk up, the worry of war easily lifted from her shoulders. “Just teaching and sorting the new recruits. Magic isn’t as strong in anyone these days, but at least they all want to come to Torridaig if they’re willing to leave home.”
I nod, still bothered by the odd, prickly feel of the silver torque but not willing to show it.
The lessening of magic all over Ellonrift has already been impacting Ruthinock for a long time.
Humans rely on sorcery to protect their kingdom.
With less and weaker magic overall, the people of Ruthinock are more cooperative than ever with Bale, relying on him to keep them safe from fae parasites and vampire thirst.
“Will you and Stuart keep the newcomers here or spread them out?” I ask.
Yawning, Sybil leans her head against the back of the chair. “A bit of both. We’ll decide with Bale after the Council is over.”
At least Bale doesn’t seem as alone in ruling as when I first got here.
I finally can’t help it and tug at the cuff around my neck, loosening it.
“Is the torque bothering you?” Sybil frowns.
“It was just a little tight.” The looser band is still prickly and warm, but since I was verging on cold, I decide to take the heat where I can get it.
I also pull my bare feet up off the floor.
The stones feel icier than usual, probably because a certain someone put the idea in my head that I need rugs and other things around.
If Bale had just minded his own business, my feet wouldn’t be cold.
Sybil spots the apple I dropped and leans down to pick it up off the floor. “Did you want this?”
I shake my head. “It’s probably one big bruise now.”
“I’ll get rid of it on my way out.”
“Thanks.” I’d offer it to my birds, but they’re hearty carnivores, just like their dad.
Grimacing, I sit up straighter, a stray thought hitting me like a battering ram. “Can I ask you something?”
She cocks her head. “Of course.”
“I don’t seem to fit the profile of anyone else in Ellonrift. What if I’m all alone? As in, the only one like me. Do you think that means I can’t reproduce if I want to?”
Her graying brows arch in surprise. “Are you feeling the urge to nest?”
I laugh. “I’m not a bird.”
“To mate, then?”
I think Sybil’s been at Drayke Mountain too long. She sounds like a true Torridaigan. “I’m clearly not a dragon shifter, either. I think we’d know by now.”
Her lips twitch at my tone. Smoothing her thumb over the red skin of the apple, she asks, “All right, then, tell me this. How careful were you when you were with Kellan?”
I glance at Fyrestar—the only one still awake. He closes his golden eyes and tucks his beak under his wing, clearly trying to give me privacy. It doesn’t change a thing, but I appreciate the effort.
“Careful enough,” I finally answer.
Sybil’s snort makes Rim jolt in his sleep. “Careful enough isn’t usually what I suggest when people come to the healer’s level for protection. And before Kellan?”
I shake my head. “There wasn’t anyone else.”
“Even at school?”
Now it’s my snort that makes all the birds jump. Fyrestar lifts his head, his gaze conveying sympathy and love. “You know I was a pariah. The gildenfae-gold kid.”
Sybil’s expression hardens on my behalf, my past no secret to her.
“Well, that’s their loss. As for the rest, I honestly don’t know.
You seem physically compatible with anyone in Ellonrift, in my opinion, but unless you decide you want to be a mother and actively start trying to make that happen, it’s hard to know.
And sometimes, even when you’re compatible and trying, children just don’t come along. ”
Blazing heat sets my face on fire and makes the odd tingle from the torque even worse. “I’m so sorry, Sybil. That was insensitive of me. I shouldn’t have asked.”
She waves off my apology. “I don’t expect you to never talk about maybe wanting or having children just because I couldn’t have them.”
I nod but still feel terrible. I lived through all the years of false hope and disappointment with her.
“I’m lucky to have a friend like you.” My eyes suddenly sting, but when I shut them to stave off tears, I see a flash of Sybil turning to wrinkles and then to dust. I jerk my eyes open.
I don’t know why I have these visions, but I never tell Sybil how often I see her death, just like I saw Everly’s every day until it came to pass.
They feel like my nightmares, only I’m awake, and instead of showing me odd shadows of the past mixed with things I don’t recognize, I see a future I can’t change. At least Sybil is old in my visions, unlike Everly, who died too young.
Sybil stands. “It’s late, and I’m ready for bed. You should rest too. I know you leave at dawn.”
I get up and follow her to the door. “Take care while I’m gone. And tell Stuart thank you.” I touch the torque again, finally getting used to it. It’s less hot and stinging now.
“I will, but it was Bale’s idea.”
My chest contracts, squeezing my heart. “Why start with me? Against Bloodwold raiders, everyone fights in skin.”
She gives me a penetrating look. “Why, indeed?”
Heat sweeps through me. “Are you implying something?”
“Should I be?” I must look like a rodent caught in a hungry phoenix’s gaze, because she shakes her head, laughing softly. “It’s just my wishful thinking. Bale is too alone and barely willing to lean on anyone. And you’re highly capable and every single male dragon shifter’s dream.”
I huff a laugh, ignoring the fire building inside me like a fever burning through my veins. “They can keep on dreaming. It’s the single life for me.”
“You won’t be testing any compatibility theories with that attitude,” she teases as she opens the door.
Grinning, I playfully roll my eyes at her. My face falls the second she’s gone, not only because she’s right, but because my now wildly beating heart is drumming Bale’s name in my ears.