Blood Oath (Darkest Drae #1)(56)

The sun rose in the sky, the heat pounding the moisture from my body. I washed my bloodied arm in pail after pail, until my skin was clean of all traces of the wound. Then I scrubbed my hands, my arms, and my face. I washed my feet in the pails and spit in them. The men kept coming, one after another, giving me no time to rest.

The heat shimmered off the dirt. The day was uncommonly hot, which I rationalized as the cause of my blurry vision. Wavering, I sat down heavily in the dirt, too dizzy to stand. The guards didn’t stop their progression, and as they tossed the buckets, I took the additional beating now that I was closer to the ground. My hands and lips were chapped, my thin shift soaked with sweat, and instead of feeling hot, I shivered with chill, which I knew was a bad sign in the heat.

I needed water.

I glanced up in time to see a bucket swinging at my head, but I wasn’t fast enough to lift my hands. The metal ring at the bottom of the pail smashed into my forehead, and a burst of stars traveled behind my closed eyelids. I sucked in a breath, and the warmth of my blood trickling down my face was both a curse and a blessing. At least I’d have something for the next bajillion pails of water.

I wiped at the blood, dropping my hand so I could rinse it in a pail.

“You bloody fool,” Irrik growled over my head.

I kept my eyes closed and waited for his verbal lashing. At least he was accurate in his assessment today. I was bloody. “Next pail.”

A roar split the air, followed by a series of crunching sounds, and a shadow blocked the sun’s rays. Not nearly as good as a drink, but the shadow offered some reprieve from the heat.

“Next pail,” I murmured again, slumping to the ground.





24





Irrik crouched beside me, tracing my forehead with his fingers, and he swore in Drae. A cool cloth covered my forehead, and I sighed in relief.

The Drae lifted me, and the space around us blurred as he moved. I mean, really moved. Air circulated around my body for a full minute before he stopped abruptly. A moment later, he submerged us in deliciously cool water. It was up to my chin, held as I was in his arms. One of his arms disappeared from beneath my thighs, and a cup was brought to my lips soon after. I greedily slurped the lukewarm fluid, smiling when I recognized the nectar. It reminded me of Ty and Tyr.

Awareness seeped slowly into my consciousness, as I truly realized I was being held by Lord Irrik. In the water. In only my undergarments. How the hay did that happen?

My eyes flew open, but there was only black. “Where am I?” I croaked. “Why can’t I see?”

“This is my lair,” Irrik said, his voice resonating through my back. “You had heat stroke. It was getting severe.”

He had a lair? Why didn’t that surprise me? I swallowed back my panic. “Where?”

“I’m going to lift you out of the water. There is an aketon to the right you can wear.”

“Wait!” I buried my face in the water, washing the grime away. I opened my mouth to rinse and choked when the taste of nectar hit my tongue instead of the water I’d expected. I swallowed and sputtered as I came up for air. Irrik grumbled in Drae, but I didn’t care what he was saying. My mind stuttered on the thought of a pond, lake, or maybe even a river of nectar. “Is this the source of the nectar we drink in the dungeons?”

Silence met my question, and I wondered if he was trying to keep the nectar’s source hidden. Given the healing properties, I could understand why. But how come Ty had it, too? “I won’t tell. I promise. I just can’t believe there’s this much of it. I thought it came from a fruit or something. Is it a river?” Then a thought made my mind skid to a halt. “Can it heal the land? It makes me feel better.”

Lord Irrik coughed. “No.”

My shoulders slumped. “Bummer. That could’ve saved me a lot of spit.”

I rolled my shoulders back, relishing in the relief seeping in through my skin. Irrik withdrew his arm from around my waist and pulled away, leaving a hand resting lightly on my arm.

I wiggled and squirmed, splashing a little in the nectar, not even caring that I’d basically drunk my bath water. I took a deep breath and submerged myself, running my fingers through my thick hair still cropped unevenly in clumps but longer than I remembered. I opened my eyes, wishing I could see in the darkness, and jerked when my pale skin began to glow.

Irrik yanked me higher. His eyes were wide, his dark features frozen in shock. In my periphery, I saw a massive cave of jagged black stone, the expanse of it melting into the depths. An inkiness that seemed to go on forever. But my attention was drawn to the Drae standing in the pool of clear liquid.

“Turn it off,” he ordered, mottling and shifting into scales the same color as the rock. But pulsing underneath the black plates of skin was a vibrant, electric blue. His muscles tightened, and his chest swelled. The water rippled with his unrest. In a hoarse tone, he said, “If you value your life, stop glowing.”

There was nothing threatening in his tone. In fact, the air sizzled with his panic. Just like that, as if my power understood his fear, the pale silvery light was gone and we were lost in the darkness. My mind reeled with confusion. “What was that?”

He sighed. “A Phaetyn is light and life as surely as a Drae is darkness and death.”

His grip on my arm tightened, and he drew me closer, before lifting me out of the water. Honestly, I used a similar technique to wash my clothes in Zone Seven. Dunk the tunic, give it a swish, and then pull the drenched tunic out. I felt like a tunic. But as he lifted me out of the water, my thigh brushed his chest. He said nothing as he set me on the stone ledge, but I closed my eyes at the searing sensation caused by the simple touch.