Chapter 10 #2
Terym surveyed each lord in turn before he responded, and some of the men shifted slightly under his penetrating gaze. “We retrieved the lamp, but it seems none other than Miss Adelia can touch it.” He raised his hands slowly, drawing attention to his bandaged fingers.
“Has anyone else tried to take it?” Beatus asked, face twisted in an arrogant sneer.
The king narrowed his eyes, the look sending a small shiver down my spine even though it wasn’t directed at me. He didn’t like being questioned.
“By all means, Beatus, take the lamp.” The king’s voice was clipped when he gestured to me, and every man’s gaze followed his bandaged hand to where I huddled in the comfortable chair. I stiffened at the attention and the king’s implication, gripping the lamp tighter.
He couldn’t have it. I wouldn’t let him.
Beatus eyed my hands where the lamp remained hidden, the vibrating pulse increased with the nervous beat of my heart.
“Well, Beatus?” the king demanded, drawing his attention once more. Terym waved at me, a clear invitation to take the lamp, or at least attempt to.
The lord rose, his oily blond hair shining in the flickering light of the candles. He strode toward me with purpose, his thin lips all sneer, and black eyes greedy. My heart beat faster still, the lamp’s pulse echoing with it.
The green lord didn’t try to coax the lamp from me. He snatched at my hands, pulling the warm metal from my grasp with such force I fell from the chair, sprawling on the ground at his feet.
Blinding pain flared in my chest. An agonized cry wrenched past my lips at the same time Beatus released a yelp. He dropped the lamp, and it tumbled onto the soft blue rug beneath his feet.
I dove for it, the pain easing once I had the black metal in my grasp again. Clutching it to my chest, I soaked in the thrumming vibration and strange static washing over my skin.
The scent of burned flesh lingered in the air, and I scurried backward, putting distance between myself and Beatus, who curled over his hands, wheezing.
“Bring back the healer.” Terym’s monotone voice broke the stilted silence following the lord’s attempt, not at all surprised by the outcome. The king knew Beatus wouldn’t be able to take the lamp from me, just as he couldn’t. Had he told the lord to take it as punishment for questioning him?
“Should’ve listened to the king, Beatus.” Harkin snickered.
“Shut up, boy,” Beatus gritted out through clenched teeth, slumping into his chair.
The healer pulled the lord’s hands from where he clenched them atop the table, uncurling them to reveal the damage done.
While Terym’s hands had blistered, the lord’s hands were a deep red and had taken a strange leathery texture.
They would definitely scar, and I’d be surprised if he ever got full use of them again.
“Now that’s settled. Adelia, my dear, bring the lamp here.” Fear held me immobile. After the pain I experienced when I lost contact with the lamp, I wasn’t going to risk him trying to take it from me. I couldn’t bear to part with it. Not again.
I shook my head wildly, denying the king’s request.
All the lords stilled, but the king rose from his chair and approached. My heart rate skyrocketed again, beating almost as fast as it had when I climbed the granite pillar.
“It’s alright. You don’t have to let it go,” Terym cooed.
I rocked back and forth on the blue rug, clutching the lamp as if it were a lifeline and I was about to drift far out to sea.
He would try to take it from me again. It would hurt. Don’t take it from me. It’s mine.
It’s. Mine.
The king crouched before me, and blue eyes met mine, entirely unreadable. I sucked in a breath, readying myself for a striking blow at my disobedience. It didn’t come. Instead, he cradled my hands in his, careful not to touch the lamp as he pulled them away from my chest.
“You need to open the lamp,” he whispered, coaxing as his thumb rubbed along my wrist.
Open?
Of course! It hadn’t occurred to me before, but now … now it consumed every facet of my mind. I had to open the lamp. It was imperative.
The most important thing.
I ran my fingers over the warm surface in search of a crack, a lip, something to lift it open.
I needed it to open.
Now.
I examined the metal, searching for a knob, a lever. Something to open it.
Now. Now. Now.
There was nothing there. The black metal was entirely smooth.
A strangled sob racked my chest, and tears filled my eyes. There was no lid. No seal. No way to open it at all.
“How?” I croaked out, in near hysteria, hot tears streaming down my cheeks. A small part of my mind was disgusted and confused at my behavior. Nothing about it made any sense at all, like I had lost my mind entirely.
Is this what Wista was talking about? Had I failed after all?
A metal blade glinted in Terym’s hand, and sparkling blue danced across the canvas walls as the candlelight caught the gemmed hilt. The same blade he used to cut my hand so I could open the cave.
My mind cleared, settling into quiet realization. I knew what I needed to do. What would open the lamp.
Blood.