I nod, still bothered by the odd, prickly feel of the silver torque but not willing to show it. The lessening of magic all over Ellonrift has already been impacting Ruthinock for a long time. Humans rely on sorcery to protect their kingdom. With less and weaker magic overall, the people of Ruthinock are more cooperative than ever with Bale, relying on him to keep them safe from fae parasites and vampire thirst.
“Will you and Stuart keep the newcomers here or spread them out?” I ask.
Yawning, Sybil leans her head against the back of the chair. “A bit of both. We’ll decide with Bale after the Council is over.”
At least Bale doesn’t seem as alone in ruling as when I first got here.
I finally can’t help it and tug at the cuff around my neck, loosening it.
“Is the torque bothering you?” Sybil frowns.
“It was just a little tight.” The looser band is still prickly and warm, but since I was verging on cold, I decide to take the heat where I can get it. I also pull my bare feet up off the floor. The stones feel icier than usual, probably because a certain someone put the idea in my head that I need rugs and other things around. If Bale had just minded his own business, my feet wouldn’t be cold.
Sybil spots the apple I dropped and leans down to pick it up off the floor. “Did you want this?”
I shake my head. “It’s probably one big bruise now.”
“I’ll get rid of it on my way out.”
“Thanks.” I’d offer it to my birds, but they’re hearty carnivores, just like their dad.
Grimacing, I sit up straighter, a stray thought hitting me like a battering ram. “Can I ask you something?”
She cocks her head. “Of course.”
“I don’t seem to fit the profile of anyone else in Ellonrift. What if I’m all alone? As in, the only one like me. Do you think that means I can’t reproduce if I want to?”
Her graying brows arch in surprise. “Are you feeling the urge to nest?”
I laugh. “I’m not a bird.”
“To mate, then?”
I think Sybil’s been at Drayke Mountain too long. She sounds like a true Torridaigan. “I’m clearly not a dragon shifter, either. I think we’d know by now.”
Her lips twitch at my tone. Smoothing her thumb over the red skin of the apple, she asks, “All right, then, tell me this. How careful were you when you were with Kellan?”
I glance at Fyrestar—the only one still awake. He closes his golden eyes and tucks his beak under his wing, clearly trying to give me privacy. It doesn’t change a thing, but I appreciate the effort.
“Careful enough,” I finally answer.
Sybil’s snort makes Rim jolt in his sleep. “Careful enough isn’t usually what I suggest when people come to the healer’s level for protection. And before Kellan?”
I shake my head. “There wasn’t anyone else.”
“Even at school?”
Now it’s my snort that makes all the birds jump. Fyrestar lifts his head, his gaze conveying sympathy and love. “You know I was a pariah. The gildenfae-gold kid.”
Sybil’s expression hardens on my behalf, my past no secret to her. “Well, that’s their loss. As for the rest, I honestly don’t know. You seem physically compatible with anyone in Ellonrift, in my opinion, but unless you decide you want to be a mother and actively start trying to make that happen, it’s hard to know. And sometimes, even when you’re compatible and trying, children just don’t come along.”
Blazing heat sets my face on fire and makes the odd tingle from the torque even worse. “I’m so sorry, Sybil. That was insensitive of me. I shouldn’t have asked.”
She waves off my apology. “I don’t expect you to never talk about maybe wanting or having children just because I couldn’t have them.”
I nod but still feel terrible. I lived through all the years of false hope and disappointment with her. “I’m lucky to have a friend like you.” My eyes suddenly sting, but when I shut them to stave off tears, I see a flash of Sybil turning to wrinkles and then to dust. I jerk my eyes open. I don’t know why I have these visions, but I never tell Sybil how often I see her death, just like I saw Everly’s every day until it came to pass.
They feel like my nightmares, only I’m awake, and instead of showing me odd shadows of the past mixed with things I don’t recognize, I see a future I can’t change. At least Sybil is old in my visions, unlike Everly, who died too young.
