“She’s not going to influence me,” I scoffed.
“How do we know that?” Ferne shot back. “Both of you have been connected since birth. I sensed it humming beneath the surface whenever you two of you were within range of one another. How do we know she isn’t going to manipulateyouinto freeing her?”
A soft voice unexpectedly answered Ferne. “She can’t.”
Everyone turned in surprise to Penn.
She twisted around to speak to Kenton. “I’ve told you before, she’s just as confused as Graysen about all of this.”
I kept my expression schooled to disinterest. My siblings had obviously pressured Penn into revealing what was going on between Nelle and me up in the tower.
Penn continued talking to Kenton. “Before your family captured her, she had no idea she was a wyrm or what any of it means.” She shifted her gaze to mine, and there was an unease haunting her features, as if she was thinking of something truly frightening. “You intimidate and terrorize her at every opportunity you can. She puts on a brave face, but she’s utterly terrified and very much alone.”
Penn dropped her gaze to the book in front of her. She ran her fingers back and forth over the wrinkled page as if uncertain ifshe should share more. Finally, she spoke, and her voice was so quiet we all strained to hear. “She breaks when she thinks she’s alone and there’s no one listening. I’ve heard her crying. It’s filled with terror and hopelessness.”
For a moment, I couldn’t even think of how to reply. I had no idea what a brilliant actress Penn was.
I took a sip of my whiskey, the fierce liquid pouring down my throat. My voice was cold and flat. “She deserves it and more.” It was something our aunt reminded us of. How Wychthorn was coddled and pampered, living a life of freedom without fear while our mother was confined and tortured. “We need her broken to break Byron so he’ll fucking hand it over.”
Within the Wychthorn Treasure Trove was a crucial item the Blacksmith needed to forge a weapon to trap a Horned God. Byron had so far refused to give it to us, believing it was his only leverage. Byron was playing a dangerous game. He knew we were desperate to claim Brangwene’s Hjarte, and he hoped it would spare Nelle’s life if he kept it out of our reach.
“He will,” Jett reassured me. “Zielenski believes Jurgana is going to be at the Emporium within the week. We’ll give Byron his moment with his daughter then and there. He’ll hand over Brangwene’s Hjarte to save her.”
“Good,” I bit back. Even though it worried me, I had no fucking idea what nefarious plan he had in store for Nelle.
The easing mood resonating from my siblings relaxed the tension in my limbs. They trusted I remained loyal to their cause. I finished the glass of whiskey, turning the tumbler around between my pinched fingers so the firelight caught the crystal.
Penn continued to stare at the page in front of her, and her features softened as she admired a rough sketch of a wyrm, its serpentine body coiled and wings spread wide as it set the sky onfire. “They’re magnificent,” she whispered, her voice filled with awe.
I refilled my glass with more whiskey and listened to Penn speak to Kenton. “From what you’ve told me, Wychthorn’s wyrm isn’t a true wyrm. Not like the ones in these pictures or those you spoke of, in the sense that it wasn’t a real beast like Draxxon.”
“The wyrm was formed of flames.” Kenton angled his chin at me as I headed to the hearth with its burning logs permeating the air with pine and chestnut. “It came out of the fire surrounding Wychthorn when you flicked Zrenyth’s whip—”
“Leviathan Spinebender.”The whip had felt so natural gripped in my hand.
He nodded. “As if you manifested its flamed form.”
I frowned. Kenton was right. The moment the whip’s tip had struck wyrmfire the beast had appeared.
“Is the wyrmher?”Penn asked.
“No, they’re separate entities, yet tethered to one another,” he replied, deep in thought. “When she battled us, they worked independently of each other. It wasn’t corporeal. The wyrm wasn’t physically there, not like a true wyrm. It wasn’t alive in that sense.”
“Not-quite-living,”I corrected Kenton.“The reason she canswift.”
“Wyrms don’tswift.”
“Wychthorn can because her wyrm isn’t quite alive.”
Penn tilted her head, long strands of brown hair dipping low over her shirt. “So I guess you’re saying she has the spirit of a wyrm inside her?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, rocking back on my heels.
“How did Wychthorn possess the spirit of a wyrm?” She ran her fingers over the page, smoothing it flat. “What makes her special that the beast was able to bond with her?”
“The question is whatelseis she?” Ferne put forth.
There was a moment of astonished silence as we all processed this new thought and tried to align it against everything we knew about Nelle, which we were realizing was jack-shit.
