“They are. Now was what you saw good or bad?”
Swallowing I squeak, “Both.”
“That’s not possible,” she chuckles, then her face falls when she sees the fear on my face. “Lyra, it’s not possible. There are Light Seers who see the good to come, and Dark Seers who see the bad. There is noboth.”
“Then I don’t know what to tell you. How is it you know about Seers anyway, and yet I’ve never heard of them?”
“This is all…classified information.” She looks down at her hand that drew the blood oath. “But in the king’s council, there is a Dark Seer.”
I eye her up and down. “If it’s classified how would you know that?”
“Tell me what you saw first. This has to be a give and take.”
Reluctantly, I recount all I saw. Though, I skip the flash of clinging to a man as he ravishes me against a tree. Then, I cross my arms over my chest expectantly.
A hesitant silence stretches between us before she says, “I used to be in Cyrus’ Close Circle.”
“Youwhat?—”
I don’t get to finish my thought. The bell rings out and both of our eyes widen as we whip to the door. We both break into a sprint.
As she climbs out the window, she tosses out, “Quick! Get in bed!”
I shut the door and secure the latch before diving under my sheets and stilling myself. The bell rings closer, louder.
As I squeeze my eyes shut, the ringing stops.
One heartbeat. Two.
The sudden silence is almost more terrifying than the ringing. I spend a long time trying to calm my thoughts in the quiet thereafter. Until finally I can fight my exhaustion no more.
Thirty
- LYRA -
While there is a small sense of peace now that I’ve partnered with Marcella—in knowing I have an ally bound to me by magic—I can’t ignore the rest of the impending terror competing for my attention.
I’m a Seer. And at that, seeing things that don’t fit into the conventional categories.
Devin spoke of knowing my“illness”, and yet I don't know his motives or why he’s keeping quiet about it. Or if he even realizes the truth of what that illness is.
On top of that, there are less than two weeks until the next trial.
After a breakfast, where Moe finally rejoins our group with a cane, Lady Bethany leads us to a lecture hall for a lesson on dragon studies. Once we take our seats in the stadium-style room, Lady Bethany assumes her position at the front raised stage. Long, skinny stained-glass windows frame the area, scattering bursts of color along the stone floors. The wall behind her has sconces adorning it, their flames flickering with a flame that is mostly orange and yellow. But a glimmer of blue flashes in it every so often, before the flame flicks back to normal. In the center of the lights is a massive slab of slate on the wall.
Lady Bethany walks to one of the sconces. “Do you all know what this is?” After a moment of silence, she says, “Dragonfire. And do you know how to tell?”
Aelia raises her hand, and once she’s approved by Lady Bethany, answers, “The hint of blue in the flame?”
Lady Bethany tilts her head. “Yes. But…” she grabs a stool and climbs it, then puffs a breath out on the closest flame. It dances, but doesn’t extinguish. “You see, dragonfire, when bottled in a container that’s dragonfused, will stay lit, even under the windiest conditions. Similarly, if you doused it in water, it would not go out.”
“Does that mean it would stay lit even underwater?” someone behind us blurts out.
Lady Bethany narrows her eyes. “Yes, indeed it would. But Moe, must I remind you that in our first week here you were taught to raise your hand and be called upon before you speak?”
“Sorry…Lady Bethany…” Moe mumbles behind us.
An awkward silence falls upon the room.
