“Ilyan,” I called, my voice strangely hollow as my magic pulled. My fingers were inches away from picking up the thing when sight pulled into me. One simple image of Ovailia dropping the same green fluid onto Thom’s skin was all I needed to see.
“Mi lasko?” Ilyan’s voice pulled me out of the sight with the force of a gun, his fear escalating as I looked up to him, my eyes wide before I pointed down to the vial below us where the green was now spreading out and over the floor like syrup.
“Don’t touch it,” I instructed, my voice shaking with what I was about to say. “It’s what Ovailia used to hurt Thom. It’s what she was going to use on all of them.”
His eyes grew wider as I looked at him.
My sight pulled me forward, flashes of images I could barely make out, before Ilyan came back into focus.
My lips spread into a wide smile. “I think I can use it to save him.”
Sain’s ragged breathing echoed through the stone hallway we walked through, hitting against my back and grating on my nerves. I recoiled at the sound, at the way his feet dragged against the stone, the way they always had when he walked.
His left leg was slightly turned, dragging like he couldn’t quite lift it off the ground. This time, however, the scrape seemed to be a little bit more pronounced, the drag a little bit longer. He had always claimed it was from an injury. Right then, I wasn’t so certain. I no longer thought any of him was real.
The scrapes, the breathing, the tap of my heels, they all reverberated off the cave’s walls in a hollow rhythm that dug against me. My heartbeat increased to match the sounds, unfamiliar fear rising up in me as I second-guessed my decision to bring him here. Second-guess my decision to not kill him along with all the other Chosen children back at Ilyan’s now foiled safe house.
I probably should have after what I had seen him do, after what I had seen him become. After what he had shown me.
It wasn’t like he was trying to hide it from me in any case. He had embraced it. He had shown me a stronger man than I had ever seen before. He had shown me one of the many faces he carried in his pocket.
He had shown me who he truly was.
And all that he had done.
It was so much more than him “playing us” as my father had assumed, as I had assumed. It was so much more complicated than that. I had no idea what end game he was working toward, but one thing was clear—something as extreme as this would only end in his death, whether by my hand or my father’s. I wasn’t foolish enough to think my father would want to miss out on that opportunity. So, I had brought him here, only to second-guess myself.
My heart beat with the unfamiliar indecision, a painful force against my ribs that brought me to a stop. The turn in the cave was ahead, the one that would take us right to the hall that led to my father’s chambers where he would be waiting for us, waiting for a report.
Sain’s broken gait stopped no more than a moment after mine, the echo of our steps fading into nothing as I stood, unwilling to move.
“What are you?” I hissed into the silence, unsure if I was talking to myself or to the scapegoat behind me.
“I am a Drak.” His reply was heavy and commanding, the tempo of it much stronger than I had ever heard from him. The tap of his shoes resonated as he moved closer, a shiver moving through me at the missing sound of his false step. “I am the first of my kind. What are you?”
Without warning, his hand moved over my hair, his fingers soft as they ran down the long locks. It was a move that could have easily been confused with romance. My magic certainly pulled that way, his own connecting with mine in a move that had been nothing other than an act before, but suddenly, I wasn’t so positive.
With a shiver, I pulled away, turning to face the man who, as I had seen in the cathedral, looked neither weak nor old. He stared at me with a confidence and power that, before that moment, I would have never expected to see in him. My magic continued to pull toward him as if it could sense the change, as if it hungered for the strength he held.
My soul bristled angrily at the purposed heresy, heart pounding in my chest with all the irritation and fear I had in that moment.
It was a look that would send even my father’s most powerful servants into a cowering mess. It had definitely done Cail in on a number of occasions, but Sain stood there. He smiled, his body not so much as deviating a millimeter, the power behind his eyes rising.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he cooed, his voice a raging torrent as he moved forward, his gait strong and consistent as he closed the gap I had left between us.
My heart raced with each step he took, my mind begging me to attack him, to end this. My magic wanted anything but.
“What are you?” he parroted back to me. His face was now so close to mine all I could see was the deep green of his eyes.
The powerful mass of his magic pressed up against my own, trying to infiltrate, trying to connect with me. As I heaved from the proximity, my soul was keenly aware of the powerful change that affected him so deeply even his magic was different.