Touch of Power
Page 50

My confusion lasted until I felt the air being pulled from my lungs. I struggled to keep it and to draw in more, but couldn’t. My lungs strained as black and white spots swirled in my vision. My healing magic flared to life, fighting Jael’s power. The wall of air holding me up disappeared. Weak kneed, I sank to the ground, sipping air. But not enough.
“She’s strong.” Jael sounded impressed.
“Jael, stop,” Kerrick said.
“Ohh… You care. How sweet. But she needs to learn who is in charge.”
On the edge of consciousness, I reached to gather my magic, but healing Kerrick had depleted my strength. The world faded as I suffocated.
I woke with a blinding headache. Unfortunately, my encounter with Jael hadn’t been a dream. She sat on an overstuffed armchair reading a book. Groaning, I rolled over. Someone had dumped me onto a couch.
“There’s tea on the table next to you,” she said. “Drink it. It will help with your headache.”
I fumbled for the cup. Sitting up, I fought off nausea and gulped the warm liquid. The pounding behind my eyes eased a bit. I downed the rest in two swallows. Feeling better, I scanned the room. Bookshelves, desk, chair, another armchair and glass tables filled the room. Afternoon sunlight streamed in, illuminating a beautiful black-and-silver rug underneath the desk. A fire crackled in the stone hearth. No guards stood by the door. If it wasn’t for the powerful magician sitting across from me, the room would be quite cozy.
Jael closed her book with a thud. “Now we can have a private chat.”
I wondered where they had taken Kerrick. If she liked to play head games, I wasn’t about to ask her about him and give her something to use against me.
“Don’t look so frightened, Avry. I’m not some Death Lily ready to swallow you up. If you cooperate, no one will harm you. In fact, I’m hoping you will join us.”
“Us?”
“My mother-in-law, High Priestess Estrid of Ozero, has been helping the poor plague survivors to put their lives back in order. We’ve amassed quite an army. And we have a few magicians working with us. However, we’ve had some skirmishes—it’s an unfortunate side effect of progress, and we’ve had our fair share of injuries. Plus disease and infections have taken a toll.” She leaned forward. “We’re in need of a healer. And it seems you are the last alive.”
Sweeping an arm out, she said, “You will be treated well, given every comfort and well protected. The High Priestess gives you her word that no harm will come to you.”
A dream job. So what was the catch? Stalling for time, I asked, “You can speak for her?”
“Of course. I married her oldest son, Stanslov of Ozero. He was first in line for the throne, but he left me a widow.”
Interesting how she appeared more upset about being a widow than in losing her husband. “Doesn’t the High Priestess have another son?”
“She did, but he died of the plague along with his wife. They left a little girl, the High Priestess’s only grandchild, but she’s very ill. In fact, we’d been searching for you for some time. She would like you to heal Nyrie first, if possible.”
“How far away is Nyrie?”
“She’s upstairs.”
Surprised, I asked, “Isn’t she in danger?”
“Oh, no. Our efforts to restore peace have expanded throughout Pomyt, so she’s quite safe. And when we heard you were in the area, we took a chance that we might catch up to you.”
I stood. “Take me to Nyrie.”
She gained her feet. Shock blanketed her face and I knew that was the first true expression she’d shown me.
“Does this mean you’ll join us?” Jael asked.
“I need some time to think about it, but I’m not going to use a sick child as a bargaining chip.”
“Oh.”
I had caught her off guard.
It didn’t last. “This way.”
I followed her down a plush hallway. Flames flickered from gold sconces, and elaborate paintings hung on the walls.
“You mentioned hearing about me,” I said. “From who?”
“We had a report from our training camp near Grzebien.”
My apprehension about being here turned into fear. They knew about my sister. Which meant they could use her to force me to work for them. Thankfully, Jael had the decency not to mention it at this time.
We climbed a grand staircase. The child’s room lacked for nothing. Her nanny sprang from a chair beside the canopied bed. She had been reading to the girl. Long copper hair fanned around the girl’s pale face. I guessed she was around five years old.
Jael introduced me to her niece. Nyrie gave me a wan smile despite the pain shadowing her eyes.
I perched on the edge of her bed and took her small hand in mine. She shot Jael a frightened look.
“What story was your nanny reading you?” I asked her. Healing magic swelled from my core, and I sought the source of the girl’s sickness.
“The story of Neil, the First Queen’s champion who crossed the Ronel Sea. He was the only one brave enough to request help from the sea dragons.” Her thin voice matched her skeletal body.
She had the wasting disease.
“Is that the story where he brings back fifteen dragon scales that turned into warriors when the First Queen’s grateful tears touched them?” I asked as I gathered the black fibers of the disease and drew it from her.
“Yes. The warriors chased the tribes into the wildlands and the First Queen gifted land to each of them. That’s why we had Fifteen Realms.”