Chapter 37 #3
Ysabel’s eyes narrowed. “You have great power, but it doesn’t feel like it all belongs to you.
You’re a healer. I sensed that easily, and yet there is a darkness that seeps inside of you.
A darkness that does not come from you, but is somehow still a part of you.
” Her eyes flicked to Amryn’s. “My words make you uneasy, but they do not surprise you. Do you know what this darkness is?”
There was no way Amryn would tell this stranger about the bloodstone, so she merely said, “I’d prefer not to discuss this.”
Curiosity rippled, but Ysabel dipped her chin. “I understand. But you should be careful. The darkness inside you is at odds with the essence of who you are. That imbalance is not good or safe. You must find a way to cleanse yourself of it.”
The bloodstone hummed, but not in fear or anger. No, it was almost . . . smug. Like it knew Amryn would not be getting rid of it.
The amulet suddenly felt too warm against her skin.
“You paid for a reading,” Ysabel said, straightening on her cushion. “Would you like me to do that now?” She once again set her hand on the table between them. “I don’t actually need to see your palm, obviously, but to glimpse your past I need to touch you.”
Amryn’s hands remained firmly in her lap, wrapped around her fan. “I’m fine without your guesses for my future, thank you.”
Ysabel laughed, the sound melodic. “Fair enough. But maybe you have a question I might help answer? Something you’ve been curious about, perhaps?
You can consider whatever it is, and when I touch you, that will help direct my ability to read you.
Sometimes our pasts hold answers we don’t realize, buried in memories that are old, faded, or forgotten entirely. ”
“I don’t have any questions.”
“That’s a lie,” Ysabel said mildly. “I sense many questions in you. Many doubts and concerns. Some have to do with your family. Some with a friend—or perhaps a former friend. One who betrayed you. It wasn’t all clear. But I know you have uncertainties about your husband, Carver.”
Amryn stiffened. “How do you know that?”
“That you have concerns about your husband? Or that his name is Carver?” The corner of her mouth lifted. “Even with just one touch, it was easy to see him. He’s written on your heart. Etched into your very soul. He is the most important person in your life right now.”
The right now felt ominous. Amryn’s shoulders tensed.
Ysabel’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Your concerns were a little difficult to read, but I glimpsed the worry you carry for him. For the demons that haunt him from his time in Harvari.”
Unease stirred. “You saw all of that with one touch?”
“It didn’t all come from when I touched you.”
It took a beat for Amryn to understand. “You saw Carver when you touched Ford.”
Ysabel nodded, her expression sober. “There is a great darkness in both of them. The kind only soldiers carry.”
Amryn eyed her, remembering the bite of Ford’s pain when he’d emerged from the tent. “What did you tell Ford?”
There was a flash of regret, even as she cracked a thin smile.
“Your friend is a skeptic, and normally I like to tease them a bit before I start the official reading. I did so with him, but as soon as I touched his hand . . .” She swallowed, her eyes sad.
“He has seen much. Too much. I tried to offer him comfort and assure him that he will overcome his demons. But after my teasing . . .” She sighed.
“No, even without my teasing, I’m not sure he would have accepted my comfort.
Some men prefer to stay in the darkness they believe they deserve. ”
The words made Amryn’s heart ache. Ford had been in Harvari with Carver.
He hadn’t been captured by the enemy, but he’d seen horrible things.
Done horrible things. Ford was good at hiding behind his humor, but Amryn had sensed a heaviness in him before.
She just hadn’t realized how heavy that weight might be.
Then again, Carver was excellent at masking the darkness he battled every day.
Would she have ever caught more than glimpses if they hadn’t been forced into such proximity?
It was usually under the cover of darkness, in the quiet of night, that she’d truly seen the demons he struggled with.
“Ford is resilient at heart,” Ysabel said softly.
“The shadows will never fully leave him, but I don’t believe he will drown in them.
” She smiled a little, reassurance in her voice as she said, “Ford and Carver are both good men. That’s why they suffer from the aftermath of what they’ve seen and done.
Men who are evil relish the darkness. They don’t fight it.
Ford and Carver . . . they walked into darkness to protect others from it.
That they chose to live with that clinging darkness every day for the rest of their lives is an honorable sacrifice. ”
It was. And yet, Amryn hated that they’d both suffered so much.
Ysabel shifted on her cushion, straightening her spine as she said, “Marc and I plan to stay in the city a few more weeks. If you have need, you can find me here or at the Jasmine Inn.”
The dismissal was clear. As Amryn stood, she said, “If you’re staying in Zagrev, you should know there’s a knight at the palace.”
Fear flashed, though Ysabel’s face paled only slightly. “Thank you for the warning.” Her brow furrowed. “Are you safe there? As one of the Chosen, you must be under great scrutiny.”
Amryn wasn’t sure how Ysabel knew she was one of the Chosen.
Their names were no secret, of course, so perhaps that alone had helped her guess.
Then again, she didn’t know exactly what Ysabel had seen when touching her.
Perhaps that had been enough to confirm Amryn’s identity.
Regardless, the worry Ysabel felt for her was genuine.
“I can avoid detection,” she told the other empath.
Curiosity bloomed. “Is it part of your gift?”
When Amryn hesitated, Ysabel bit her lower lip. “It isn’t. But it can’t be taught, can it?”
“No.”
Ysabel was still sitting on her cushion, the various braids in her tangled bun glinting in the sunlight that filtered through the vent above them. As she peered up at Amryn, her unease was clear. “It has something to do with the darkness in you, doesn’t it?”
A chill skated over Amryn’s skin. She didn’t answer, but her silence was answer enough.
Ysabel frowned. “You need to be careful, Amryn. Whatever I’m sensing inside you . . . it’s insidious. Dangerous. If you do not find a way to remove it, I fear it will overtake you completely.”
The square was too bright and too loud after the quiet of Ysabel’s tent. Amryn squinted as she made her way to Elowen’s side. She was unsettled, and the bloodstone had never felt heavier around her neck.
“How was it?” Elowen asked, a smile on her face.
“It was . . . fine.”
“You mean it was a farce,” Ford grunted.
Ivan’s attention remained firmly on Amryn, his concern swelling. “Are you all right?”
He saw far too much. Amryn forced a smile. “Of course. You should take your turn.”
Ivan looked uncertain, but when Elowen encouraged him, he ducked into the tent.
Elowen and Ford spoke lightly, bickering without heat as they clearly resumed an earlier conversation. Amryn let her eyes wander over the square, Ysabel’s warning ringing in her ears.
Amryn knew the bloodstone was dangerous, but she didn’t have a choice. If she stopped using it, Rhone would realize what she was.
She was using it for more than that, though.
Every day, it became easier to rely on the bloodstone.
To use it to mute the emotions she didn’t want to feel and to enhance the ones she did want to pick out of a crowd.
Sudden guilt pooled in her stomach. She’d promised Carver she wouldn’t use the bloodstone beyond what was necessary. It was a promise she wanted to keep.
She eased back the shield the bloodstone had helped her make—and nearly buckled under the weight of the crowd’s rioting emotions.
A spike of joy at finding an item to buy.
A jolt of victory at making a sale. Needles of jealousy as someone watched the woman he wanted dance with another.
The sharp desperation of thieves. The awful pangs of hunger.
Anger. Grief. Determination. Sorrow. Frustration. She felt it all.
She pinched her eyes closed, her breaths thready as she pulled the bloodstone’s protective shield back into place. The peace was instantaneous.
She shivered, her throat going dry. She had no idea if it was the sheer size of the crowd that had made things so painful, or if she’d become too dependent on the bloodstone.
What if she was losing her ability to handle the onslaught of emotions on her own?
Her skin crawled at the thought. What if using the bloodstone was weakening some part of her?
A low, off-key hum came from the amulet around her neck. It almost felt like the bloodstone was irritated.
Amryn’s palms dampened, but she clenched her fingers around her fan.
Later. She’d try to drop the bloodstone’s shield later, when she wasn’t surrounded by hundreds of strangers—
“Ryn.”
Despite the heat of the day, ice drenched her veins at the soft whisper of that long-ago name. Of that voice. Deeper than she’d ever heard it, yet still somehow familiar.
It had come from right behind her.
A tremble began in her legs as she slowly twisted to face the man she recognized instantly, even though he’d been a mere boy the last time she’d seen him.
Dark hair. Green eyes a shade darker than her own. A jaw that was angled sharply, similar to their father’s. Strength exuded from him, even as he stood in stillness before her. Watching her. Waiting.
The tremble was in her lips now. It infiltrated her voice as she whispered her brother’s name. “Tiras.”