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Dossidian nodded, “Aye. I will let Meredith know what we are planning, then take Conrad to the Abbey house.”
“Good.” I said, and Rycon got up and stretched.
“You guys have fun. I guess I should get cleaned up before my babysitting shift starts.”
Jeremy scowled at him but he just winked and hopped out of the pit, before glancing back at me. “Kitten.”
“Yeah?”
“Make sure that fucking thing burns.” Beneath all the jokes and the cocky laziness, I could feel the guilt and the pain coursing through him. It was nearly as strong as my own feelings of rage and failure.
I knew that if and when we found those holding Kasha and Amon captive, between the two of us, there would be no survivors.
Dossidian
After meeting with Raven, I headed out into the East Wing. Meredith was tending to the slave in one of the empty bed chambers next to hers. While Raven had been in the dungeons with the widowmaker, I had helped Meredith set up a small makeshift infirmary so that she did not need to keep rushing back and forth from her own room to retrieve supplies.
She looked up at me from where she sat next to the unconscious daemon as I entered, and smiled softly. Her long blonde flyaway hair tumbled haphazardly around her shoulders… She looked exhausted. My chest tightened. How many hours had she been in here, working to keep this daemon alive?
This room was furnished similarly to the rest of the bed chambers in the castle. The view was not as spectacular as the rooms in the corridor that Raven and Amon stayed in, as this room was positioned farther back in the volcano. However, the sprawling green landscape was dotted with wildflowers and was still a sight to behold.
I pulled up the remaining chair stationed at the small table in the center of the room and settled heavily next to Meredith.
“How is she?” I asked. Meredith sighed. With a wave of her hand, the bright blue and golden threads that made up the daemon’s life force appeared, and the green witch pointed to several places where they knotted and clustered.
“Better, she will live. I am hopeful she will wake up soon.” She glanced at me nervously, licking her lips before continuing. “See here, and here… where the threads tangle?”
I nodded, trying to make sense of the glowing display. Daemons were not great healers. Especially daemons like me. I was made to bring one thing and one thing only. A stab of sadness welled in my chest at the thought. I envied Meredith, and her ability to heal. I wished I had known her sooner. If I had, maybe…I shook my head to rid myself of the painful memories; I had learned long ago that living in the past helped no one, especially not her.
“Aye,” I replied. “What does that mean?”
“I’ve never seen anything quite like it, but I think it has something to do with the slavery bond and this daemon’s powers. It looks like they’ve been crippled from being repressed for so long. Almost like a bone that has been broken, then not given the chance to reset properly.”
I rose an eyebrow. I thought of my own powers, and how often I had wished them away. I doubted this daemon would feel the same when she woke up. I wondered how long she had been enslaved, for her powers to be completely disfigured like this.
“Who do you think she is?” Meredith whispered, looking down at the sleeping female, sadness etched into every line of the witch’s face. I took in the daemon’s resting form. When she had first collapsed onto the floor of the common room, she had been so covered in blood and filth that it had been impossible to discern her features. Meredith had cleaned her up and washed her hair. She had even managed to get her into a fresh change of clothes. I was once again struck with a moment of awe of the green witch’s respect and reverence for life. Even for the life of an enslaved daemon that she owed nothing to.
The daemon in question had fair skin and long, nearly white hair. It was striking in color and fell nearly to her waist.
“I don’t know. Ash Nevra does not tend to discriminate with her slaves. She could be anyone.”
“Whoever she is… she does not deserve this.” Meredith said, her normally soft, calm voice laced with disgust.
“Aye.” I agreed. I watched her frown at the glowing threads again as she began to worry and work at them with her fingers in an attempt to untangle them.
She flinched slightly, and her fresh, leafy green aura wilted with the effort. Without thinking, I reached out and touched her hand, gently pulling her away from the daemon’s life threads. Her hand was slender and delicate in mine, I nearly completely enveloped her, as I wrapped my fingers around her. She jumped, and looked at me, startled and wide eyed. I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“How long have you been working away at this, little witch?” I asked her. I could feel her draining next to me. Another way magick folk differed from daemons, was the finite nature of their powers. Their powers were gifts from the deities they worshiped, and usually came at a cost. Daemons were bottomless pits of power. We manufactured energy as easily as we drew breath.
Whereas magick folk could fully deplete themselves to the point of harm, daemons had the opposite problem. If we weren’t careful, we could generate so much power we could pose a risk to both ourselves, and others. This was a danger I was all too familiar with.
“If I’m being honest, I’ve lost track of the hours.” She looked down at her hand, which was still enveloped by mine on top of the sheets of the bed. I could feel the slight tremor in her bones.
She didn’t pull away.
“I think it’s time for you to take a break, little witch.” I said softly. “You have done all you can for right now.”
She frowned again, a small crease forming on her golden brow. I forced down the sudden urge to smooth it away with my finger. This thought alone was enough for me to pull my hand away and slide my chair back, putting space between us.
