No one was this loyal, certainly not within a court ruled by a fiend. If he stole power here and there, I doubted it would be missed. He could amass it until he had enough to challenge Ivenrail for rule. There weren’t many within Bledmire Court with the potential. Me. Him. His surviving daughter, perhaps.
And one other who had not stepped inside the castle for a very long time.
Ivenrail curled his finger toward the first Nullen in the line, a child of about ten years old. “Bring it to me.”
What was the king going to do to take care of the rider “problem”? I needed to find out. Another twist in the game?
I scanned the group who’d entered with the Lieges. Four collared Nullens lined the wall behind them, only Brodine staring forward blankly. The rest kept their eyes trained on the floor. If they paid too much attention, the king might remember they were there and make them step forward for draining.
I’d mocked Brodine for adoring Tempest. Now I felt regret that I hadn’t been here to keep him from being swallowed alive. Brodine would be dead within a week.
Would her friend feel his death, or would the tiny bit left of his awareness welcome the end with wide open arms?
“Make that little one come closer,” the king snarled at a Liege. He stomped his foot. “It’s just standing there, not obeying my command.”
The child remained stoic, staring forward blankly, though I knew she hadn’t yet been drained. In shock, most likely. Who wouldn’t be after watching dregs invade her village before grabbing her and stuffing her inside a cage? I could only imagine what she saw after that, when they took her to their cave where some of the dregs dined on the bodies of her friends and family. At least she wouldn’t remember what was coming next.
Not long after I discovered how to make the king drain me instead of someone else, I made arrangements. A spell took away their memory of this time, and someone trustworthy took them home after it was over. I doubted Ivenrail gave them one thought after they were taken from his suite.
“This one is young,” the Liege intoned. “It will not do as you ask. You must take . . .” His hissing voice slithered through the room. But he dutifully stepped forward, coming over to stand behind the child, snarling by her ear. “Go see the king. He has asurprise for you, little one.” His words husked around us, the bones of long dead corpses rattling together in a cold wind.
She gulped and took one step forward. Another.
Losing patience, Ivenrail snapped his hand out, encircling her wrist and dragging her against his knee. When her belly hit, she yelped and struggled, smacking his leg.
I sent soothing thoughts to her mind, spinning a pretty dream where she ran through a meadow, laughing. A fluffy baby chall scampered behind her, mewing, until she spun back around and swept up the tiny beast, cradling it against her chest. She sat in the deep grass with the perfume of flowers swirling around her, lowering the tiny creature to her lap to pet it.
“Good. I hate when they struggle.” The king jabbed his thumb against her forehead, and he drank.
And drank.
And drank.
As I siphoned my power through her and into him, I closed my eyes and continued the dream, sending sprites into the meadow to sing a lilting song for the child.
Here, she stared at the floor.
There, she smiled and laughed, snuggling her pet.
13
TEMPEST
Amuffled groan made me stir, and I snapped awake as Vexxion staggered across the room, clutching his head.
As I sat up, Drask squawked from where he’d perched on the top of a nearby chair. Lifting off, he flew into the next room as I flitted to Vexxion and grabbed his arm, lying it across my shoulders and guiding him toward the bed.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He tried to step away from me, straightening.
Did he think his words and statement that everything was as it should be would actually convince me?
Grumbling, I latched onto his arm again and took him to the bed, where he dropped down, staring forward in a blank way that chilled me straight through my bones.
My teeth chattering, I swung his legs around so he could lie on the thick pile of flooferdar blankets. Asolitary black rose tipped with silver nestled in a vase on the bedside table. I’d found it there earlier, and I’d clutched it to my chest, unable to catch a breath. Even when he was confident I’d hate him forever, he’d taken time to give me things I adored—including himself.
“Vexxion,” I said, stroking his forehead. “Tell me what I can do.”
He just groaned again.
