“What are you asking?” Joclyn snapped, her face draining of color.
I straightened, a tense knot forming in my spine as I looked between the two women, obviously missing something.
“Well, after this morning, I feel it’s necessary to look at other possibilities.”
Joclyn cringed, her shoulders pulling into her neck, her face wrinkling in the way it always did before she erupted at our father. Except, this time it wasn’t father; it was Risha.
Ilyan’s second.
Joclyn’s second.
“Joclyn?” I whispered as I leaned toward her, the mug all but forgotten. “Are you okay, my dear?” Placing my hand on her knee as I always did, I pulled her attention away from the beautiful Sk?ítek who looked like she had walked into a men’s locker room.
Joclyn looked at me, her eyes pained and sad. The wrinkles in her brow intensified as her eyes shined with tears. That was new.
“Wait. What happened this morning? Lightning bolts erupt out of her head or something?” Wyn asked, putting voice to the question that, thanks to Joclyn’s heartbroken expression, had been about to leave my lips.
“She had a sight,” Ryland provided, moving away from the wall, his hand running through his shaggy hair again. “She couldn’t tell the sight from reality.”
I froze; everyone did. Everyone but Ilyan, who moved back to Joclyn’s side, his arm draping over her shoulders, his chest expanding in the familiar protective stance I had seen many times before: in the cave, when Joclyn was trapped within Cail’s mind; in Rioseco, when Sain first returned after I had awoken. It was a role he was born to play.
I had also seen her do the same. I had seen Joclyn protect Ilyan when he was unconscious in Italy.
Even right then, Ilyan stood beside her, strong, defiant, while she sat beside him, her eyes narrowed, brow hard, willing to do the same for him.
It was magnificent, this pair before me, their love and adoration so breathtaking even Ryland was lost to it, staring at them from where he stood, his lip twitching into a smile. If only the beauty could have taken away the truth…
I was not confident anyone else realized it, but this sight that distorted her reality was an even worse omen than some cloaked man betraying us all.
“She couldn’t tell…?” Wyn began, her eyes drifting in obvious worry to her best friend.
Joclyn said nothing, and Wyn didn’t pry, even though I could tell she wanted to.
“And that makes her untrustworthy?” Ilyan asked of Risha, the power in his voice pressing against her as she cowered in respect.
Her loyalty to her king was clear, even though you could tell something was still nagging at her.
“Not to me, My Lord,” she clarified, her shoulders heaving as she stepped back toward Ilyan, her jaw clenched tightly. “But to others … There are things that have been said, things I have heard.”
“You mean the rumors?” Wyn asked, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed as she sat up a little straighter, staring in fear at what had begun to unfold before us. “Everyone’s heard them; that doesn’t mean they are true. For all we know, it’s some jealous Chosen who is mad they can’t ‘see’ like Jos can.”
It was the reasoning we had always used. What was said, what was being spread around, was so vague there wasn’t any basis to think there was any concern, any basis in fact. Right then, I wasn’t so sure.
“I think I may know for certain where they are coming from.” Risha looked right at Ilyan, her eyes narrowing in an anger that was not meant for him.
I sat frozen, my heart thundering in my chest as I looked between Risha and Ilyan, the bed below me shaking as Joclyn did.
“When Sain stopped me and Joclyn in the hall, when Joclyn had that other sight, he said some things.” Risha was hesitant. I didn’t blame her; Ilyan’s temper, which was always close to the surface lately, increased with every word she spoke, the heavy weight of his anger drifting over the room and tightening the knot of anxiety I had been trying to ignore.
“What things?” Ilyan’s voice had grown even harder, and this time, I saw Risha’s confidence dip.
“That, as she won’t listen to her magic, the Drak in her is dying.”
Everything was silence. Wyn sat still with a clenched jaw. Ryland was caught between looking at Risha and Joclyn in some kind of shock. Ilyan stared at Joclyn with such severity it was clear they were deep in silent conversation, and I sat still, unable to move thanks to the weakness that had overtaken my body, my lack of magic increasing it.