I liked that Lyra. Very much.
When I finally fall asleep, I don’t dream at all.
Kaelen
“Are your hands improving?”
Flexing her bandaged palms, the witch looks up across the table at my grunted question. Her words are dry. “Eres thinks they’re healing well. Apparently I heal faster than he expected.”
She pauses. “He also dosed me with another quill.”
At my request. The two of us swapped briefly this morning for me to wash and change, Eres bringing a change of clothing and fresh bandages for Lyra, as well as a sharp-eyed warning to be gentle with her.
Gentle.With a witch.
Today, she wears Darkwielder black, her hair braided back in a tight crown that circles her head and her posture tense enough that it puts my nerves on edge.
She looks more like a soldier than most of my own.
I offer her a tight nod before I turn my attention to the hall, scanning the long tables. There are few in for breakfast at this hour, but I catch several pairs of eyes on her. Many of them burn with unmistakable hatred. Some with fear. But not all.
It’s beyond irritating.
I stare hard at a soldier I’d likely remember the name of if I thought enough about it. He doesn’t even notice me for several long seconds, watching the witch from the opposite table. She doesn’t seem to notice as she flexes her fingers, touching them one by one to her thumb to test the movement with a deep frown between her eyes.
ButInotice. The soldier—eventually—moves his doe-eyed gaze on and meets mine. He pales before he stands, grabbing his empty bowl and handing it to the stone-faced, older wielder standing at the kitchen door before darting past me to get outside. A wielder who turns her glare on me.
Fuck.
Neela returns my apologetic look with a raised brow that tells me I’m in trouble for missing my rotation this morning. I nod toward the Lightbringer opposite me in silent explanation, and she rolls her eyes, pointing to the kitchens before she disappears.
Apparently babysitting a possible witch-spy doesn’t excuse me at all. And not just any witch.
Vaelion’s daughter. I run my eyes over her again. I’ve never met the Commander who has made it his life’s work to wipe us from the earth. Her father has defined my entire life. My mother’s life. My father’s death. And soon, he’ll define my own.
There’s nobody close by. My tone is acerbic, the words sharp and pointed and sour on my tongue. “Tell me about him.”
Her hand has reached for her cup. It pauses in mid-air. The witch looks up. “Who?”
Leaning forward, I lower my voice. But the bitterness remains. “Don’t play games with me, witch. I spared your life, which is far more than he would have done.”
Brows creasing, she takes her drink instead of answering, buying herself time before she clears her throat. “So there is a price for mercy, it seems.”
“I don’t have the luxury of offering you a place here for free.” Soon, there will be no place at all, and desperation threatens to close my throat. “Tell me something, witch. Anything. Give me something I can use.”
Her eyes don’t burn as fiercely today. I barely see any flame at all, only a faint glow around her irises as she places the cup down carefully. “You want me to give you information so you can kill my people, Duskbane. This war is endless. Nothing I say will make a difference.”
“This war isending,” I snap. “Look around you. Do you truly think it’s victory that we seek now? Give me information I can use to barter a deal with Vaelion. Tonegotiate.”
Her eyes tighten. “I thought that had already been attempted.”
Darian.“He told you.”
A slow nod. “He said his father was betrayed. But he was named a traitor for doing what you’re asking for now. He tried to make a deal with the Lightbringers, and they killed him instead.”
Footsteps sound behind me, and erevas unfurls from my palms as I pull up a barrier around us for privacy. Darkness encloses us, only the witch’s eyes lighting the space. “It couldn’t be proved that he had tried to make a deal at all. Your side carried out attacks during that time period that could only have arisen from information provided by a Darkwielder. The timing was deemed too close to be coincidence.”
And I’m done discussing this with her. My voice hardens. “Tell me what Vaelion wants.”
