“Does he pull that a lot?” I asked the female Drae sitting across from me, the scarred one. I tried to remember her name but couldn’t remember if she’d told me. I hadn’t spoken since waking an hour ago in a room with five other female Drae.
He’d fully taken over again, and I’d been left with only a black hole between the end of our conversation on the balcony to waking. Yet as I’d sat in silence, pieces came back to me just like before when I’d remembered Kamoi’s presence on Draedyn’s back in Azule. I’d then turned my focus to the other black holes in my memories from his control. I couldn’t remember everything I was certain, but I was getting glimpses of flying over Azule, of the smell of smoke and the distant screams of battling humans on the ground. I shook my head as a memory of a servant clasping me about the arm to lead me into this room flashed before my eyes. Was I supposed to be remembering this stuff? If not, why? He’d seemed displeased about that fact yesterday. Were my Phaetyn powers helping me out? It seemed the likeliest explanation.
Of one thing I was sure: next time Draedyn should just eat his toast and leave me alone.
“You sure have a mouth on you,” one of the young women who was probably a century old said. “I hope you can back it up when the time comes.”
Time comes? Time comes for what?
“Hush, Draelys,” Draesi said.
The Drae with the scar on her neck turned to me and smiled, though her shoulders and neck remained taut, accentuating the jagged blemish. “Would you like to visit the bath chamber, Draeryn?”
I pursed my lips before swallowing my automatic reply of Just Ryn. I wouldn’t even take the start of Tyrrik’s name, and he was my mate. Draedyn literally stood zero chance of smooshing with my name. But with the offer of a bath, I didn’t care what they called me.
A slow smile spread across my face, warming my heart. “Yes, please.”
I’d done the best I could to clean in my washroom, but the facilities were limited. Really limited. Like a chamber pot and basin of water. A few specks of Kamoi’s blood dotted my legs and feet, only a few specks, but every time I splashed the remains of the bowl on me, I seemed to miss a few.
The one who’d offered me the bath asked the others if they’d like to come. Apparently, this wasn’t a solo bath experience. All but three gave a reason to excuse themselves—thank the inventor of private bath chambers—five still seemed like a bit of a crowd for bath time.
As we walked down the hall, I darted covert looks at the other Drae. The one leading us looked familiar, and she walked next to the one who’d spoken of knowing my mother. How well had these women known Mum? They’d been with her anywhere from eighty to almost a hundred years, so I wanted to assume they knew everything about her. But then Irdelron hadn’t known Tyrrik, and they’d been together a century. To know someone, both sides had to open up. What if my mother had never opened up to these women?
We zigzagged down into the base of the cliff, and warm, sulfurous air billowed out from a cavern. An entire cave in the mountain was dotted with hot spring-fed pools, over a dozen of them—some bigger than the throne room in Gemond, which was saying something. The heat and moisture greeted me, warming my skin, and I wanted to skip through the doorway despite the rotten egg smell. As soon as we were inside the cave, I shed my sack-tunic and dipped my toe into the nearest pool, sighing at the languid feel of the soft heat.
“Come back here,” the scarred Drae said, waving me to the back of the cave. “These pools are used less often.”
Less often? Like there wouldn’t be witnesses if she drowned me? Or these pools are cleaner? If she was just a stranger, I would’ve taken off running, but I could hear the sincerity in her words, so I followed her back into the chamber and finally, blissfully, sank into the warm water.
Not gonna lie, sitting neck deep in hot water felt really good after the last two days. The heat drew the tension from my muscles like sucking venom from a bite, and with all the horror in Draedynland, I felt a bit of gratitude for the other captives, my only remaining kin, being nice enough to show me the ropes.
The Drae who’d invited me to the back sank into the water across from me. “Feels good, yes?”
I murmured yes, my gaze trailing over the room, stopping on the two Drae who’d remained by the door. “Are we watching for something?”
Her answering smile looked a lot like pity, and said, “We’re always watching for something.”
“Is there more than him to watch for?” When the Drae shook her head, I returned to my initial question. “So, about earlier, does he do that mind control thing a lot?”
She ran her hands through her now wet black hair and studied me. “You mean imposing his will?”
I nodded. Every time it happened, I wanted to scrub my mind with strong-smelling and gritty soap, something to rid me of his omnipresence.
“Not usually, but then you’re a lot like your mother, and he always had a hard time with her.”
“A hard time?” I asked, perking up with pride. Heck yes, he did.
“Ryhl struggled to conform too.”
I smiled at the compliment; intended or not, it was nice to know I was like my mother. I sagged at the tightness in my chest, a vice around my heart, gasping at the suddenness of the pain. The spasm lasted only a few seconds, but my heart pounded in the wake.
The scarred Drae watched me, her brows drawing together. “Does that hurt a lot? Is that from being separate from your mate?”
“Yes and yes.” I rubbed my chest, but I wasn’t talking about Tyrrik inside these walls, kinship or not. Instead of divulging anything else about my mate, I asked, “Will you tell me about my mother?”
“What would you like to know?” The woman dragged her hand through the top of the pool, sending ripples across the surface.
I shrugged and hiccupped, only then realizing I was crying. What the hay? I laughed at myself, frustrated with my inability to control my emotions about someone who was already dead. Or was that sadness doubling up with missing Tyrrik and the lingering fear from the blackouts? Regardless, the overwhelming emotion clogged my throat, and I croaked, “Everything. Anything. What was she like when she was here? What did you all do?”
These women had been with my mother here for over eighty years in Draedyn’s company and likely longer before that. My desire to know more about my mother was insatiable. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe Draedyn wouldn’t find out or that there wouldn’t be consequences, but it didn’t matter. Whatever aftermath ensued would be worth it because right now in this very cavern, my mother and these women had spoken together, lived together, grieved together, just like we were now.
The three female Drae laughed at my stream of questions, and I held up my hand to stop them. “Wait. Before you start, before we go any further, will you tell me your names again? I recognize Draesi up there, and you’re Draelys, right?”
When I first saw the Drae women, I’d thought they looked so similar; obviously, they were all kin to one another. But after a couple hours in their presence, my mistake was embarrassingly noticeable; both by appearance and personality, these women were not carbon copies of one another, regardless of what Draedyn had attempted to do.
“This is Draemyr, and that one over there with Draesi is Draenique.”
My gaze darted back and forth several times, and, jerking my head to the last two Drae, I asked, “Are you two sisters?”
“No,” Draemyr said, cracking a smile. “At least not by birth. Growing up together in this palace made us sisters, regardless of who our parents were.”
Draelys perched on the edge of the pool and tugged her tunic up so she could slide her legs in beside me. “I don’t remember my parents. I was four when Irdelron stole us.”