Blood Oath (Darkest Drae #1)(43)

Not quite.

“Let’s see,” I mock remembered. “At some point, I nearly drowned in a plate of gravy.”

“I can think of no better way to die.”

I scrunched my nose, contemplating that. “You might be right. I shouldn’t have fought back.”

“Wait, you’re serious?”

Oh boy, was I? I settled into my spot on the ground. “Remember that sunflower I showed you? The one I thought was magic?”

A beat passed before he said, “Do you know how that happened?”

I considered my words. I’d treaded lightly to this point, feeding him only the barest of details, at first because I didn’t trust him and then to keep him safe as much as myself. But I was leaving in the morning, and I didn’t know when or if I’d be back. I wanted him to know.

“The king says I’m Phaetyn, Ty.” The cork was popped, and the story blurted from my lips until I was rambling in the aftermath, attempting to piece it together. “I don’t know how. Mum said . . . She said the shampoo was for nits, but she had to have been dying my hair a different color. The king said my hair is silver. What the hay? And she kept me out of the gardens all those years, telling me I killed everything. Was she killing everything? Because it couldn’t have been me. And if she was doing all those things, she had to know exactly what I was. She hid it, even from me, and Irrik has been hiding it while I’ve been down here so the king won’t use my blood to kill him. Or rather Irrik was trying to hide my identity. The king found out, and he’s going to send me to work the land. To save it.”

I had no idea if what Irdelron proposed was even possible, but I couldn’t contest the growth that happened here in my cell, sprouting out of seeds overnight.

“Your mother was Phaetyn?” Ty asked. “She was Phaetyn living here?”

“She could make anything grow,” I said. “I guess I know how now.”

“It makes sense that Irrik would kill her if she was Phaetyn. I’m surprised he didn’t kill you too.”

I listened to the drip in one of the other cells and thought back to the conversation I’d overheard between Mum and Irrik.

“Ty,” I hesitated before plowing forward. I needed answers. “Would Phaetyn blood kill a Phaetyn?”

“No. Phaetyn blood only kills Drae blood. Everything I know says it would heal another Phaetyn. But I’m no expert.”

My heart dropped. I must’ve made a sound because Ty asked, “What is it?”

“My mother was killed with a Phaetyn blade, though.” I floundered. “I don’t understand. She wasn’t like Irrik. She wasn’t Drae.”

But why else had he killed her with that specific blade? I was a Phaetyn. If my mother was a Drae, that meant. . . “She wasn’t my mother.” And if I was the only Phaetyn, then it had been my blood on the blade that killed her.

“What do you mean she wasn’t your mother?” Ty asked.

I rested my head back, closing my eyes. “I don’t know. Y-you don’t think my mother was Drae, do you?”

“She hid that she was Drae all those years? Seems . . . impossible.”

I shifted on the floor now covered in moss in this corner.

“Well then, I have no freakin’ idea about anything,” I gritted out in frustration. Ty remained quiet, and I pushed down my temper after a second, adding, “Irdelron mentioned the oath, that he could compel Irrik with it. Do you know anything about that?”

“Irrik was not always as black hearted as he is now. My family was once quite friendly with the Drae race before Irdelron had them slaughtered. Before my parents were killed, my father told me the story of the Drae boy who’d tried to save his people.”

I nodded. “I know this story.”

“You do?” he asked in his scratchy voice.

It amazed me that after weeks of talking with Ty, I could tell, just by his inflection, what he meant. “About the Drae boy who didn’t want to help the king. The one who hid and watched as the king gathered the Drae, killed the alpha and the males, and then threatened to slaughter them all unless a Drae would bind himself to the king.”

Mother had told me the story. But I’d never put stock in the story about how Irrik came to be with the king. Because how could a powerful Drae not escape if he wished?

“The king swore the Drae boy could always be loyal to the Drae first and the king second. The boy believed him, what else could he do?” Ty coughed.

“I dunno,” I answered. “Sounds like a crock to me.”

“A Drae cannot break an oath, Ryn.”

“Really?”

“As real as Jotun’s dead heart.” He coughed again.

I turned my head to the bars. “Are you sick?”

“No, I’m fine. I’m just worried about you.” His voice grew hoarser still. “You don’t deserve this, Phaetyn or not. I wish I could get word to my friends. But I’m powerless in here. I can’t contact anyone.”

I stilled. “What friends?”

“I’ve never told you why I was captured, have I?” Ty asked. “Since we’re sharing, I may as well tell you. I was part of the rebellion. High up. Have you heard of Cal?”

My mouth went bone dry, and I worked to moisten it and reply, “Everyone has heard of Cal.”