The Blessed Curse (The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 4)(28)

“How exactly would you describe her condition?” Lord Blackwolf asked loudly, and Zoelyn flinched from the sound. It wasn’t that the man scared her; it was the hatred in his voice. She knew without a shadow of doubt that he already considered her a monster and nothing she said could change the fact. He was a Shifter, after all, and they were essentially druids in their mind set. Nature was above all in their culture, and she was quite unnatural.

“Father, you are scaring her,” Sebastian chided gently, though she could see the revulsion in his eyes, too, despite his attempt at kindness.

“I am not scaring that creature,” Lord Blackwolf snapped and raised his eyebrow at Dominic. “Well? How would you describe her condition?” he repeated.

“She seems to be a rather strong siphon, Lord Blackwolf,” Dominic began slowly and let out a long sigh. He glanced at Zoelyn and she could see the sorrow on his face. He was about to shed all of her secrets to these strangers. “There is nothing magical or living that is safe from her powers when she doesn’t have herself covered with the special clothing I’ve made for her. She absorbs the essence of life from creatures as well as any magic cast upon her.”

Zoelyn watched Dominic, her heart racing. Way to throw me under the wagon, Dominic. Don’t pull any punches, by all means. She kept the thought silent, but she was sure it showed on her expression and Lord Blackwolf was watching her every move.

“She is very careful about her powers, though, Milord. She takes such precautions to avoid contact with anything she might injure or damage,” Dominic finished, his gaze moving to General Troyelle with the final words.

“Such as at the river yesterday. Tell me, Dominic, what would have happened had she fallen toward the young man, rather than away?” Lord Blackwolf’s eyes narrowed as he spoke, as if daring Dominic to lie to him.

“Then I would have likely broken my nose on the rocks because I wouldn’t have dared risk touching him with my hand and I wouldn’t have allowed him to catch me even if it meant splitting my own skull open in the fall,” Zoelyn answered before Dominic could gather his words.

“I was not speaking to you,” Lord Blackwolf growled his gaze moving to her.

“I, however, appreciate her answer,” Lord Arovan broke in and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Do you drain everything, Zoey?” He paused and frowned, glancing at Dominic then back to her. “Zoelyn or Zoey? Which name do you prefer, child?”

“Either is fine, Milord Arovan,” Zoelyn began, bowing her head with respect and gratitude to the High Lord. While both he and Blackwolf were of equal rank among the Elder Blood, they were in Arovan which meant his word was law here and no matter how badly Lord Blackwolf may want to speak, he didn’t dare interrupt the High Lord of Arovan. “I drain anything of magic, Milord, from items to spells. I drain the life from creatures, though I do not know how large of creatures I affect. Aside from the fish yesterday the only accident I have had previously was a kitten, and I assure you that was a bitter lesson that I will never forget. I avoid touching things that I know I will hurt. I hate it when I damage even the smallest plant,” Zoelyn explained and lowered her head once more. It was possible that she had just used more words in that single breath that she had spoken in the last week. Lord Arovan seemed genuinely interested, however, and it gave her a bit of hope that she might possibly avoid exile.

“General Troyelle, bring in Amlon,” Lord Blackwolf ordered and Zoey watched in suspicion as the General quickly left the tent.

“What do you have in mind, Nicoli?” Lord Arovan asked softly.

“I know what she is. I intend to show you as well,” Nicoli Blackwolf replied quietly in a voice as cold as winter. “What is she, Father?” Sebastian asked curiously.

“I’d actually like that answer as well.” Zoelyn added her own voice and forced herself to remain in place as Lord Blackwolf glared at her.

“She is the reason we have the word Undrae in our language. She is a creature I had hoped was extinct. There is nothing more unnatural than this thing before us, Elijah, and I urge you to end it here,” Lord Blackwolf answered softly.

“End it? You mean kill her?” Dominic gasped, his eyes widening. “Lord Arovan, please the child is innocent. She does no wrong, and I swear to you she keeps her powers closely guarded so that she doesn’t harm so much as a blade of grass.”

Before the High Lord of Arovan could respond, the tent flap opened once more and General Troyelle pushed a manacled young man before the High Lords. The man was filthy and dressed in the Rivasan colors of red and yellow. His blond hair was matted with blood and his eyes were wild as he searched the faces in the tent for a sign of what was to become of him.