The Blessed Curse (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #4)(24)
“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.
“Amlon, you are convicted of treason and aiding the enemy of our land. You are native of Glis, and yet you have betrayed your countrymen by leading the Rivasan forces through Arovan. If not for you, Micah Arovan and Honor Hai’dia might still live. You have been sentenced to death, but you plead that you are innocent. Because of this, I give you another option.” Nicoli smiled coldly at the man as he slowly turned to look at Zoelyn. “The girl possesses unusual magic. Simply touch her so that we may learn the truth and you may win your freedom.”
Zoelyn stepped back quickly and shook her head at the prisoner. “He lies,” she hissed, her eyes widening.
“To insult a High Lord in that fashion is a grave offense, child,” Lord Blackwolf scolded, shaking his head in disapproval at her, though his serpent-like smile never faded. “If you are innocent you have nothing to fear, Amlon,” the high lord pressed and waved a hand in her direction.
Amlon looked between the High Lord and Zoelyn and then back, his eyes still wide with panic. “All I have to do is touch her?” he asked in a hesitant voice.
“Milord, please stop this,” Dominic begged, his eyes moving from Troyelle to Elijah and back.
“My son is dead and this man claims he is innocent,” Elijah began in a quiet voice. He regarded the prisoner with a cold stare and nodded to Nicoli. “I approve of this test.”
“I don’t!” Zoelyn broke in loudly as the prisoner took a step toward her. “Please don’t touch me. It won’t save you. I promise you that.” “You think he will die if he touches you, then?” Lord Blackwolf asked, holding a hand up to stop Amlon from approaching her any closer.
Slowly, the High lord rose from his chair and moved around the table to stare down at her. His every movement reminded her of a predator and it took all of her will to keep from stepping away from him. Had she moved, though, it would have put her even closer to the doomed prisoner and she knew Blackwolf himself wouldn’t get close enough to touch her. The desperate man might, however.
“I don’t know if he will or not, but I don’t want to risk it. I don’t like hurting people or animals or plants for that matter, Lord Blackwolf. I don’t want this test of yours,” Zoelyn cried, her voice rising as she searched the tent for anyone willing to help her escape his torment.