I brush past him without replying, and as Lord Percival, Lady Gwen, and Lord Wellimton are led through a door separating their rooms from our corridor, Percival whispers, “You will stop them though if we need you to, right, Nym?”
When we reach the room, Rasha plops down on the cot. I sit beside her and pull my legs up, folding my arms around my knees. “Well, that was rather dramatic. Are you all right?”
“In regard to the fact that we’re riding in a metal ship near lightning or those ridiculous politicians?”
“Both.”
“I wouldn’t be queen someday if either upset me.” But she’s wringing her hands as if to banish her nerves even as the words tumble out. Her hesitation is followed by, “And why wouldn’t I be all right? I’ve got excellent political acumen.”
I bite back a smile. “You were most definitely the smartest, most rational person in that room.”
“I was, wasn’t I?” She sniffs and a pleased expression replaces her worried features. “Although now I’ve got a stomachache,” she confesses with a grimace. “I tend to eat fast when people get intense. What about you? They were rather needy about your abilities, I’ll say.”
“I’m wondering if we shouldn’t just tell them.”
Her look suggests I’m a daft fool. “About Eogan or your abilities?”
“My powers. The delegates seem to have rather high expectations,” I admit.
“Who cares? Your ability is none of their business.”
“Maybe. Except those expectations are only going to get higher. And when the time comes—” I drop my voice with the sudden awareness that the vent boy could be listening. I peer up at the metal square in the wall.
“You’re not their obligated savior, Nym. They were going to Bron before they even knew you were coming.”
I’ve not heard anything in the pipes other than air blowing since we entered, but I keep my tone low enough to be covered by the ship’s noise just in case. “True. But even at the party the other night . . .” I scowl. “It’s like they think I’m some kind of token that will protect them. It’s suffocating.”
Her smile turns sly and she pats me on the head. “Of course you’re a token. A magical one who’s only disappointing in matters of clothing choices.”
A chuckle bubbles up in spite of myself. “I’m serious! Look at this.” I tighten my deformed fingers into a fist. There’s not even the slightest tingle in the air.
“So you’re saying the power you always wished you didn’t have is gone, but because everyone admires it, now you wish you had it back?”
“Not admires it. Expects it. And I’d rather they’d not do either. But at the same time . . .” I search for the right words. “Maybe it’s that I finally just learned how to use my curse to actually help people, and now . . . now I’m very likely going to let those people down.”
She chews her lip and grows sober. “While I might not have known you for long, Nym, I can tell you your strength doesn’t lie in your powers or the ability to cause a storm or whatever else the rest of them want to call your gift. It lies in your ability for compassion.” She pokes a finger in my chest. “It lies in you.”
I nod. Right. Except having compassion without the power to change anything is useless. I should know. I tried for years to untwine those two and it couldn’t be done. And not just useless, it’s dangerous. Because it breeds false hope.
Not only that but . . . being me is being Elemental. I feel out the bandage beneath my sleeve and press into it until my skin aches. I don’t know how to explain it to her.
“Besides, if Bron and the delegates found out right now, can you even imagine what would happen?”
I roll my eyes and groan.
“And anyhow, the delegates wouldn’t believe us. They’d just see it as a political stunt, and I’m not sure how that’d protect Eogan.”
“I’m pretty certain I can protect Eogan without giving them false security in me. But I’m beginning to wonder if it’s really a good idea to let them find out I’ve no power while we’re in an environment Draewulf controls.”
She shrugs, as if it’s the question she’s been wrestling over every bit of her waking moments with no solution.
“Exactly.”
She leans her head against the window and stares out of it. “Draewulf won’t completely control everything—he still has to prove himself to the Bron people. If that’s even his intention.”
“You think Draewulf will keep the fa?ade up in Bron?”
“He’s actively trying to eradicate all internal trace of Eogan, so my guess is yes. Especially since even the Bron guard on this ship doesn’t know Eogan is Draewulf.”
I follow her gaze through the rain lines beginning to drizzle down the pane—to the purple-gray ocean and, in the distance, the sun’s muted glimmer. “Or maybe Draewulf’s trying to eradicate Eogan because he knows Eogan can survive if the shape-shifter leaves his body too soon.”