Page 32 of Blade of the Nightking

Saerena stopped beside the bed as I swung my legs over the edge. She waved a hand in a silent command. Open the towel. Stand.

My cheeks burned so fiercely I thought they might ignite, but I obeyed. The towel slipped from my frame and fell to the floor.

She examined me first with her hands. Beneath her hood, she was striking in the way all Fae were, tall and unnervingly symmetrical, her features angular and inhumanly perfect. Her long, deft fingers traced over my skin as she circled me, probing gently.

“How do you feel?” her brows drew together with mild concern.

“Fine,” I said. “Just tired.”

She nodded, her gaze assessing. She swallowed, almost imperceptibly. “You are not Fae.”

“No,” Apprehension curled in my chest. “I’m not.” Would she be afraid of me? Would she insist I be shackled in iron, the way Sairus had?

She studied me with faint curiosity before replying evenly. “It’s been a long time since I examined one of your kind. A rare opportunity.”

I stared. I wondered, briefly, if she’d ever healed my mother. I didn’t ask.

At last she stepped back. With a crook of her long index finger, she beckoned, and the orb of light floated toward me.

“You were burned by dragonfire?” She sounded skeptical.

I nodded.

“I see no trace of injury.” She gestured at my body. “Not a single mark.”

“I healed,” I said weakly.

“Yes,” she clicked her tongue. “That much is evident. The question is: how?”

The orb spread outward in the air, blooming like a living stain suspended before me. I shrank back instinctively as the light pulsed, eager and curious, hovering closer as though it wanted to touch me.

“Stay very still,” she instructed. “Try not to move. My Lumen will examine you internally, for anything I’ve failed to sense or see.” She stepped back, clasping her hands before her. “The sensation is not altogether comfortable, nor is it painful. You will temporarily lose the use of your senses. Do not panic. Do not move.”

I nodded, my unease sharpening.

She lifted a graceful hand, and directed the light into me.

Through my eyes, my nose, my ears, my mouth, it poured in all at once. I couldn’t see or hear, couldn’t even draw breath. It was like drowning in cold mercury. I fought the instinct to thrash, forcing myself still as it invaded me.

A strange sensation coursed through my body, slick and alien, sentient. It moved with intention, sliding through my veins, skimming my bones and joints, passing over my organs with intimate precision. It didn’t hurt, but it felt profoundly wrong, like a living thing burrowing through me.

It drifted deeper, circling toward my core, slowing as it approached the place where my magic lay resting. For a heartbeat, everything inside me went taut.

The Lumen recoiled.

It flared sharply, a sudden sting slicing through me like a paper cut, and then it tore free, fleeing my body as though pursued. My breath slammed back into me all at once. I sucked in air, staggering as my vision returned.

The orb snapped into place between us, its glow erratic, unstable.

Saerena frowned. “Peculiar.”

She lifted her hand, palm up, and the Lumen drifted obediently to hover above it. It rolled and flared, agitated, its light buckling in on itself.

Then it condensed.

Shrinking rapidly, it collapsed to the size of an acorn and turned black.

Saerena gasped and staggered back, clutching Hamish’s arm. “This examination is concluded.”