My body was in agony from the poison that gripped me, the flames that licked at my body. Pain that would ravage me for hours yet to come. However, if I thought I would be allowed to cower here, waiting for it to leave, I was only expecting more pain.
He towered above me as the deep pants of his voice continued, his already tried patience waiting to snap. “Stand.”
I could have screamed at the order, the pain too much to even fathom. Regardless, I knew I didn’t have a choice.
I cringed and pushed the need to collapse away, pushed the tears and the screams that threatened to break free away, and then pushed myself to standing. Each joint screamed in agony as I straightened myself, my body swaying as I tried to stand before him, the height of my heels only making my attempt more precarious.
“What do you want of me, Father? Name it, and it is yours.” My voice shook through the pain, the irritation I normally had wavering underneath the agony that was making it hard to see straight, to focus on the powerful man I stood before.
His smile returned for only a moment before he moved away from me, leaving me swaying in the ash as the sky ripped apart in light and noise. I didn’t dare move. He hadn’t beckoned me to follow, and approaching him when I wasn’t wanted would only bring more pain.
He strolled back to me with an even wider grin, the limp body of a tortured Vil?, flopping uselessly in his fist.
“Tell me what you have learned, Ovailia.” His voice was soft as he brought the Vil? up to eye height, the creature snarling and lashing about. Edmund looked at it like it was nothing more than a beloved pet, the twisted thing bringing more affection up in the man than any of his children.
My lip curled at the image, my disgust at what I was seeing tensing in my gut.
“You spent several days among them, yes? What did you see?”
His fingers moved over the forehead of the thing while my body swayed before I righted myself, my head snapping to attention as I met his gaze head on. His eyes were ice, the hatred and lack of warmth making me doubt if I had made the right decision, if I should have ever left Ilyan’s side in the first place.
Then the image of Sain in the abbey came back to me, the lie that my atrocious brother had fed for centuries hurting more than the poison that still moved through me. The poison Edmund had filled me with because of my bonding, because I already had Drak magic inside of me. Therefore, I should be able to take it.
Or so he had said.
I couldn’t stop the anger that twisted through me. I didn’t want to. The strength of the emotion was a cooling balm to the fire that still ate away at my bones.
“Ilyan has a burn on his palm from Black Water.” I spoke the words confidently, my chin rising in accomplishment as the hatred in my father’s eyes was replaced by surprise. “He did not have it when I arrived, but it was there when I was dismissed. I think that is how he brought Joclyn back through the T?uha.”
His hand was frozen on the head of the creature he held. The monstrous thing still lashed, even though Edmund’s focus was far away from where we stood in the ash-filled debris of Rioseco.
“So, he has filled his body with that poison, has he?”
I said nothing. I only waited as the earth continued to burn, the smell of soot and flame growing as his eyes focused far away.
He paced away from me in a movement that could have been perceived as calm, the gears in his mind turning at an almost audible level.
“Does he have sight?” he asked after a moment, his body whipping toward me as his eyes flashed with energy and need. “Can he tap into the sights of Draks as you can?”
“Not that I can see, Father.” I tried to ignore the irritation at his suggestion. It had taken me over a hundred years of work to master that ability after my father had placed the mud within my body. I doubted Ilyan could do it after only a few days and a little bit of water. He might be powerful, but I refused to believe he had an ability even close to that.
“But I believe Joclyn can…” Any thought of what I had been about to say was wiped from me with the look my father fixed on me.
My heart accelerated in both fear and expectation, the burn increasing as the tempo did.
“Joclyn can what?” he snapped, the anger in his voice the same every time the girl was spoken of.
“I believe…” I began, careful to choose my words as I steadied myself, “that Joclyn can “see.” I believe she has inherited her father’s ability, as you assumed.”
My disgust at the admission grew as his did, my lips twisting into a snarl along with his, my heritage shining through as I stood beside my father, his malice twisting through me the same way it always had.