She was still wearing the brown trousers she’d worn to look at the blue waves. That beautiful evening already felt like a distant memory from another life.
Sitting at the table, she found a pen and ink in the drawer of the table and stared at the blank parchment in front of her.
It was time to make a plan.
Chapter 30
“You’ve overestimated my abilities, Younn,” Ezra’s quiet voice was unmistakable, even in the dark fortress room where Sol was being held.
“I have all faith in you,” Younn replied, opening the door and letting Ezra into the room before him.
Sol kept his face forward.
Once again, he was on his knees, cut off from his magic, powerless against the cruelty of chaos.
“You are too good to me, friend,” Ezra continued. “But this time I must decline. What you ask is too important to approach without perfect control.”
“I can respect that,” Younn replied. “Here he is. He’d been under your roof for days, and you suspected nothing?”
“I thought you had all faith in me?” Ezra did not hide the hurt in her voice. “Of course I suspected something. I asked my maid to keep a close watch on him.”
Sol was glad he’d never spoken in front of Laila when she came to assist Meena. Not that it mattered in the end.
“Why else would she have let you into my home in the middle of the night instead of raising the alarm?”
“Because I paid her off,” Younn replied.
“So you don’t trust me?” Ezra replied. “All you had to do was ask, my friend.”
“You are taking offense at nothing, Ezra. If I didn’t trust you, would I offer to let you siphon him?”
“I’m not siphoning him. Not because you don’t trust me, but because I don’t trust myself. Though, now I’m having second thoughts.”
“Let us put this behind us,” Younn said, his voice ever the friendly diplomat. “I clearly trust you. It’s your turn, do what you do. Work your magic, if you will.”
“Thank you,” she replied, sounding somewhat placated. “I’ll make sure the gem is full, that should proveourtheory is correct.”
“And if our theory is wrong, leave the gem on, and Gareth will accept him, regardless.” Younn chucked at his own cleverness.
Ezra did not respond.
Sol saw her feet step closer to him.
They could crush him all they wanted, but they would never break him. That was the only power he had left.
Raising his face, Sol looked directly into the eyes of the woman who had entertained, fed, and laughed with them over the last few days.
She met his gaze without remorse as she approached him, hands held forward.
His body tensed in preparation for all the too familiar pain.
As she began to speak in a high, dissonant voice—which sounded imperial with her icy tones—the small wax burn on Sol’s hand began to rage like an inferno.
The feeling of the burn spread through his hand and up his arm, trapping his throat and cutting off his ability to breathe.
Sol felt the wave of pain wash over him, but he didn’t fight it. He felt it. He knew it was cruel and unjust. And he hated it.
Ezra was not only a Quotidian, she was trained in using chaos magic.
