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“She did,” Killian said, shifting on his feet. “Back when she first explained magic to me.”
She had briefly told him on their first day of combat training that certain people were more naturally adept at certain types of magic. Clairvoyance was often passed genetically and seemed to favor females. Elyse had stated that she was more inclined toward physical magic, like spellwork.
“Then she was being uncharacteristically humble,” Sera said, a sly smile playing at her lips. “Elyse has unrivaled power in all forms of magic. If she set her mind to it, she could be as strong of a seer as me, and as talented of a healer as Privya. She merely chooses to focus on physical magic.”
Killian blinked a few times. Elyse’s power never ceased to amaze him. He recalled their conversation the night before, when she had explained the source of her magic, confiding in him that she feared she was part-demon. Her uncommon powers only seemed to prove her theory.
“Let’s get started,” Jaime said with a glance up at the sun. There was still about six hours of daylight left, but they didn’t know how long they would need to track down Ymaritis.
Sera settled onto the dirty floor of the alley, criss-crossing her legs, and began rifling through her pack. She pulled out a long wooden pipe and began packing it with a damp, pungent herb.
“Is that…?” Jaime began, skepticism coating his question.
Sera gave Manny a hesitant glance as she nodded. “It’s al-afhun.”
“What’s al-afhun?” Manny asked, one eyebrow quirked.
“It’s a hallucinogen,” Jaime spat.
“Only in high doses,” Sera retorted as she finished packing the herb. “In small doses, it has sedative qualities.” She held the pipe in both hands, staring down at it in her lap. Her voice was softer as she added, “I don’t normally keep it in my apartment, but after the visions of Prestowne, it helped me sleep better.”
“Sera,” Manny said softly as he knelt on the ground beside her. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Killian moved closer and rested a hand on Sera’s shoulder, conveying his agreement. He and Manny had both seen the devastation at Prestowne, and he didn’t blame her for seeking a way to ease her mind. He looked up at Jaime, half-expecting some pathetic apology, but Jaime only turned away.
“It’ll help put me in a relaxed state of mind, so I can enter the ethereal realm better, and talk with Elyse there,” Sera explained, her voice a tinge stronger. “Let’s just hope Elyse is able to communicate back.” Her gaze lifted to Killian as she spoke, and they exchanged a silent look of strained optimism before she raised the pipe to her lips.
She pointed a finger at the end of the pipe, where the al-afhun was packed tightly into the bowl, and a wisp of smoke rose from the dank herb. Sera inhaled deeply and held in the smoke for a long moment before blowing it out. A tangy scent filled the alleyway, and Sera closed her eyes as she took another considerable drag from the pipe.
Finally, she set the pipe on the ground beside her and rested her palms face-up on her knees. All Killian could do was watch and wait.
Chapter 52
- Elyse -
It felt like Elyse had been in the warm, windowless room for days. She was forced to stand, her arms outstretched as chains pulled her wrists in opposite directions. Chains that were too short to allow her any rest on the grimy floor. Chains that disabled her magic.
She was drenched in sweat from the stagnant air of the room, and Sera’s jacket wasn’t helping. Her shoulders were sore from being stretched out for however long she’d been there, and her legs were screaming at her after hiking nearly ten miles the day before. She hadn’t bothered screaming for help; even if her throat wasn’t bone dry, no one would hear her.
They’d dragged her up two flights of stairs before throwing her into a room with no furniture. A single candle affixed to the wall by the door was all she had to examine the scope of her captivity.
At first, her mind had raced through all the possibilities of escape. She’d scoured the room for any tools, had searched the man who chained her up for any weaknesses, but there was nothing. Hope had quickly deserted her and been replaced by an all-consuming numbness.
So she stood. And she waited.
She prayed that Killian would go after Ymaritis first. She could withstand whatever the Bastards put her through. What she couldn’t stomach was the thought of her friends wasting precious moments to rescue her. Yet at the same time, she knew if their roles were reversed, she would burn down the world to save them.
Her tired mind pondered what sort of lashing Jaime had given Killian. She’d seen the look in Jaime’s eyes, the pure hatred. He’d truly believed, on some irrational level, that Killian was still against her—that he’d led the Bastards there on purpose. When had Jaime become so daft?
Elyse knew without a doubt that Killian had been tricked. Shame and guilt had battled for dominance in his expression as he realized what he’d inadvertently done. Her captivity was not a victory for him, but a defeat.
She also knew, with every fiber of her being, that Killian would have let Siamus slit his throat if it meant saving her. She shuddered, the chains rattling, as she replayed that moment. She never wanted to see a knife pressed to Killian’s throat again.
Finally, the door opened. Elyse wasn’t surprised to see Siamus himself sauntering in. He stroked his scraggly beard as he took her in, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips.
“Comfortable?” he asked calmly, cruelly.
Elyse spat on the floor.
