“That’s fine,” I said quickly. “I’ll take the risk.”
Corym let out a slow breath as he scrutinized my face. If he was looking for any sign of hesitation, he wouldn’t find it.
“Take my hands, Raynella, and close your eyes.”
I did as he said and waited for the crushing influx of the Rivellan language to flood my brain.
And waited.
And waited.
I cracked an eye open. Corym still sat across from me, but now his face was pinched in concentration, beads of sweat forming on his brow.
“Is something still wrong?” I asked wearily, afraid he might be back in the same situation as yesterday.
He let go of my hands and shook his head. “There is something foreign swimming around inside your mind. I have never seen anything quite like it. I want to give you the language, Princess, but I am still fighting my own hesitancy. I do not think I can work around whatever this new thing is as well.”
“You’re still fighting to help me? I thought you were better?”
“I am much better, but there is still a reservation inside me that I do not fully understand. Nor do I understand what this is that floats at the forefront of your mind.”
I tried analyzing my own brain, but I had no clue what to even look for. It definitely wasn’t something I did. I wanted this more than anything. Frustrated, I slumped back against the couch. The movement caused my Klonopin bottle to shake, and a sick feeling hit me.
“Corym, is there a chance that a medication from my world could affect your abilities?”
He rubbed his forehead thoughtfully. “What type of medication?”
I swallowed. The last thing I needed was for Corym to think I was crazy or defective in some way. “It sort of… calms my mind. I guess that’s the best way to describe it.”
Corym stood and paced around the room, his anxious steps threatening to wear a hole in the rug. “It is possible,” he said. “There is simply no way to know how human drugs might impact your Vitaean half. It could interfere with my abilities.”
I groaned. “So you’re saying we have to wait until it’s out of my system?” I wanted to punch the sofa. Once again I was so close to making progress only to be shut down. Story of my life.
Corym tapped a finger absently against his chin, lost in thought. The perfect picture of a scholar trying to solve a problem.
I saw a flicker of light in his eyes and sat up. “Is there another way around it?”
“Perhaps, perhaps,” he said, still not quite fully present. I waited patiently, giving him the time needed to sort through whatever he was considering.
Finally, he grabbed my hands. “Raynella, I think I have a solution, if you are amenable.”
“Anything,” I blurted out, and it was sad how much I actually meant it.
“This substance lingers at the forefront of your active mind, yes, but your subconscious may be unaffected. I could attempt todeposit the information there, and once the medication is gone, you would be able to access it. I cannot say when that will be or how quickly the language will take root, but it is worth a try. Provided you are willing.”
“Oh, I’m very willing,” I said, shifting my body so I was facing him full on, the eager student ready to learn.
“Splendid. This is my first time using the subconscious, so please be patient with me.”
I laughed and gave him a sly wink. “It’s my first time, too, Corym.” He smiled politely, and I realized the joke had gone over his head. Seriously, how was he related to Sin?
I closed my eyes again and braced myself for whatever was about to happen. Luckily, it was less than a minute before I felt a tingling in my head. It was like wind chimes blowing in the breeze—a gentle sensation that tickled and danced through my head. I relaxed into the couch. I could handle this.
Then everything changed. A gasp escaped my lips as the gentle tingling grew into zaps of lightning arcing through my brain, each one a dagger of crackling electric pain. I was spinning, tumbling, falling into a black abyss of torment, clawing frantically at nothing. I was lost to the darkness and the purest suffering I had ever known.
Someone was screaming, such a horrific sound, and only when it began to fade did I realize it had been me.
Corym released my hands, and I fell back against the couch, my head lolling to the side. The misery faded but not the memory. I didn’t think that would ever fade.
