Behind us, there’s a snap of fingers and we’re promptly surrounded by a horde of soldiers. “King Eogan would have us see you to your quarters now,” the large Bron guard says. He doesn’t give us time to question or argue but merely turns, and we’re pushed to obey.
They take the group of us through the same dining room to the same door leading to the same quarters we stayed in days ago. I look around the hall, at the lanterns, at the red carpet and metal walls. It also looks exactly the same, except this time, Rasha and I are given my tiny room to share, and Myles and the Cashlin guards are crammed into the other two.
“At least you get to keep your men this time.”
She nods and I don’t speak again until the soldiers exit, the hall door is locked, and their footsteps are fading. “We need to speak with Lady Isobel. I need to know what the rest of that Elegy means and . . .” I swallow. “Then I need to get Draewulf alone.”
Her expression turns cautious. “I agree—only, not the way you spoke with Sir Gowon.”
“I’ll be more careful, but at the end of it all, we need that information.”
“Can you be more careful, is the question.”
“Of course I can.”
“Will you?”
Is she jesting? “Okay, first off, he was an oaf. And second? You manipulate people every moment to gain access to their thoughts, so I’m not sure what I did was actually any different.”
“He was innocent. And I don’t hurt people.”
Right. I doubt some of them see it that way. I don’t say it though because I don’t want to fight. Whether I see the difference or not, I’ve no desire to go back to not communicating. Not when every moment now hangs on a thread, dangling back and forth like a pendulum.
I bite my lip. “What’s done is done. I’ll be more in control next time, and you do your best to read every litched intention.”
Her expression changes from caution to concern, and for a second she seems to be debating something. Finally, “Be careful not to confuse ability for your true nature, Nym. You are not your powers. If anything, the fact that you think you need them makes you a slave to them, and in doing so, weakens your true capabilities.”
This time I actually snort a laugh. Her words are clearly spoken by someone who’s never been a slave.
She frowns.
“Fine.” I lift my hands because I’ve already agreed to this and what more does she want? “I won’t rely on them too much with Lady Isobel, but if they are the only way to stop this, then I don’t understand what your offense is. Or have you forgotten you are willing to kill Eogan in order to stop Draewulf?”
“Yes, Eogan. Not everyone else. And my concern isn’t simply for harming others. It’s what I see you gain from it. Back there with Sir Gowon, you looked different. You looked like . . .”
She stops but I can almost hear her say it anyway. “Like Draewulf.” Or maybe, “Like Lady Isobel.”
After a moment she continues. “I can use my ability to see how best to pull the information from Lady Isobel. However, as much as I hate to admit it, we’re going to need Myles’s help influencing her mind. Even if that man is a disgrace to all things Uathúil.”
CHAPTER 32
BREATHE SLOWER IN THROUGH YOUR NOSE AND out through your mouth.” Myles gives an example while I look at the open door behind us, through which Rasha and her guards’ voices float in from our room. How much longer are they going to be meeting in there?
Myles snaps his fingers in front of my nose. “Are you listening? That’ll help keep you calm, which will keep the vortex stable. If that’sss in fact what you want.”
“Of course I need it stable,” I growl. “That’s not the issue. I need to wield it faster on Draewulf before he or Lady Isobel can interfere. But if we don’t get to either of them soon instead of sitting around here pretending—”
“I said breathe slower,” Myles growls back. He stalls a second to swallow as his face turns an off shade of yellow, then twitches the air around us and murmurs something. Abruptly the floor falls away and my stomach lurches at the sensation. I shut my mouth and move impatiently to anchor my feet on the carpet and settle my mind on his whispered suggestion that I’m standing on a high ledge overlooking the entire Hidden Lands. I hate this part. Or maybe it’s that part of me is beginning to like this part, to feed off this part.
Myles stirs up an image of Eogan holding his hands up in the form of claws, poised to rip his own chest open. The black wisps emerge from around his legs. “Breathe in and let it control you.”
“I’m trying but you’re just having me repeat the same scenario over and over when we have no idea how Draewulf will actually respond. I’m not sure this is going to get us to Isobel any quick—”
“Just do it.”
“Just do it,” I mutter. But I go ahead and press my hand toward the pretend Draewulf just as he brings down a claw. I press through it without even dodging and force the image to play out quickly, ignoring his moves and keeping my hand to his heart.