“No insignia,” he called out, his words carrying across the ruined garden. “No marks. No identifying features.”
“Find out how they got onto the grounds,” Varyth ordered, his tone arctic with controlled fury. “Someone had to let them in.”
“My children,” I gasped, struggling against Varyth’s hold. “Where are?—”
“Safe.” His arms tightened around me, steady and unbreakable. “They’re safe, Isara. Still playing with Dariandralis’ boy. They don’t even know anything happened.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” His voice was gentler now, some of that glacial control melting away. “Dariandralis has them. They’re protected.”
The relief hit me harder than the exhaustion. My children were safe. Laughing, playing, innocent of the nightmare that had just tried to tear our world apart.
The garden spun around me, reality tilting and swaying like I was standing on the deck of a storm-tossed ship. Varyth’s mist clung to my skin, cool and soothing, but it wasn’t enough to hold back the tide of blackness creeping in from the edges of my vision.
The last thing I heard was Varyth’s rumble of my name and the sound of my own heartbeat slowing to match the rhythm of something ancient and terrible that had finally awakened inside me.
Then, nothing.
11
Iwoke to silk. Not the rough-spun linen I’d grown used to. Not the threadbare blankets we’d huddled under in caves.Silk. The kind that whispered against skin like water, like wealth, like safety I hadn’t earned.
Wrong. All wrong.
Panic slammed through my chest like a fist.
Where are my children?
I lunged upright, muscles screaming in protest. The room tilted. My hand shot out, reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there, fingers closing around empty air?—
“Whoa, easy—” A male voice. Close. Too close.
I twisted, body moving on pure instinct. My elbow connected with something solid. A grunt. Movement behind me.
More than one.
The mattress dipped as I scrambled backward, my spine hitting an ornate headboard carved from what looked like bone and moonlight. Three figures.
My breath came in short, sharp bursts. The room, gods, where was I? High ceilings. Tall windows.
Three men. All too close. All watching me like I was a wild creature they weren’t sure how to contain.
“Where are they?” The question tore out of me. “Where are my children?”
“Safe.” The voice was familiar now, cutting through the panic with infuriating calm. Varyth. Of course it was Varyth. He stood nearest to the windows, silver hair catching the light like he’d been carved from the moon itself. “They’re with Lira. Playing. They don’t know anything happened.”
“Happened.” I repeated the word like it might make sense if I said it. “What?—”
And then it hit me.
The garden. The attack. The fire.
Oh gods, the fire.
I looked down at my hands, half-expecting to see them wreathed in those impossible black flames. But there was only skin, pale and unmarked. No burns. No blood. Nothing to suggest I’d just set four people on fire and enjoyed it.
“You collapsed.” Darian stepped forward from where he’d been leaning against the wall, sandy hair falling across his brow. “Used too much power too fast. Your body shut down to protect itself.”
