I smiled at the memory of Dramin giving me the mug on that very first day, his kind eyes and the sound of his laugh. My smile faded as quickly as it had come, the image of my jovial “uncle” replaced with one of my dying brother. Just the thought of Dramin brought a bad taste to my mouth. My brother, dying in the other room with nothing I could do to save him.
No, that was wrong.
Sain wouldn’t let me save him.
I gritted my teeth at the thought, my blood boiling at my father’s stubborn and ancient mindset. I still didn’t understand why they wouldn’t let me save him, why they were so adamant that they follow the sight.
No matter how many snow-filled graves I saw in my sights, I couldn’t let someone die. My mother hadn’t raised me that way. I should be able to help someone who needs me.
What was to say that the future wouldn’t come about another way?
I wish my father had told me something, anything, about why it was so important to follow the sights. More reason than a culture I didn’t understand, more than the nameless sights of the zlomeny, or unknown factors with no real consequence. I needed a reason. The fact that he hadn’t given me one almost worried me more.
I knew I should be as protective of the sights as my father was. I had sensed their power and the promise of truth they held as the visions had unfolded before me. I knew that what I had seen would come to pass; I knew it because the magic told me so.
I just wished that were enough for me.
I could feel Dramin across the abbey, alone in his room where he lay with his magic dead inside of him. My magic prickled through me as I felt him, and a thought I almost didn’t want to let in came over me. Everyone was sleeping—everyone except Sain, who stood guard in the bell tower.
I could save my brother.
I didn’t care what the repercussions were; right then, it didn’t matter. It was my choice, and I wouldn’t let him die. With my breath trapped in my chest, I turned my head toward Ilyan, his body relaxed in sleep. If one thing was certain when it came to Ilyan, he didn’t wake up easily, and when he did eventually awaken, it always took him a minute to understand what was going on. I could use that to my benefit.
I didn’t dare breathe as I shimmied away from him, his arm falling like a dead fish against the white sheets. The coldness of the stone floor quivered up my legs as my bare feet pressed against the smooth surface, the breath I held burning to escape at the chill. I stayed still as I waited for Ilyan to react to my movement, but he didn’t even move.
“Forgive me, love,” I whispered without knowing why. I had felt Ilyan’s own frustration when Sain had expressed his desire. His role as king had dictated his decision to let Dramin die, not his better nature. It was my better nature that I wouldn’t let lay quiet.
I uncoiled my body before slipping my feet into my red shoes and moved across the room, shuffling my feet in an attempt to be as silent as possible. The large wooden door opened noiselessly as my magic pushed into it, the gentle tap of the wood as it closed behind me sounding like a battering ram in my ears. My muscles tensed at the sound, but I pushed the anxiety away as my hands pressed against the door, waiting for a sign that Ilyan was waking up.
I stretched my magic toward him as I closed my eyes, my mind pulsing with the image of the room that came into view. Ilyan slept soundly, his arm still stretched out over the warm sheets I had just vacated. The image almost made me want to curl up next to him again. He looked so calm, so beautiful. I only wished he would understand my choice in what I was about to do.
I ignored the small flame of guilt that was trying to build inside of me and ran my hand over the edges of the door. My magic fired as I sealed the door with a heavy barrier that I hoped would keep him in place, in silence, and oblivious to my departure. I just needed enough time to get to Dramin and heal him before Ilyan woke up. It wouldn’t take him much to break through the barrier, no matter how powerful I was.
I faced the door as the excitement at healing Dramin began to grow, the guilt falling away with the knowledge that I was doing the right thing. That was, of course, before I turned, ready to make my way toward Dramin’s door that called to me through the dark.
With one look at the long, dark hallway, my ironclad cage of security slipped, releasing the demons. Muscle spasms rippled through me and my arms moved to circle around me in a desperate attempt to hold myself together.
“It’s j-just a hallway,” I reminded myself in a whisper. An ancient passageway made of stone, lined with fire-burning sconces. Just a hallway. I tried to hold on to what should have been a simple fact, but it didn’t look like just a hallway anymore. It looked like a nightmare.