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“Who’s being examined first?” Heath demanded, an ominous feeling building inside him.
“Father, please,” Lachlan cut in. “This is not the time to—”
“Who else but the only thus-far untested members of the power-wielding line?” said King Matlock, ignoring his son’s words completely. “The infants must be assessed so their powers can be properly monitored and, if necessary, contained.”
Heath found himself suddenly on his feet.
“The infants?” he repeated, his voice deathly quiet. “You’re talking about Jacqueline and Germain? But Laura and Edmund will come with them, surely?”
“The parents cannot remain during the observation.” King Matlock sounded irritated, as if he’d already had this argument and was sick of reiterating himself. Glancing at Lachlan’s face, Heath was pretty sure who had been on the other side of that argument. “As you are very well aware, your sister has a type of magic which could substantially affect the accuracy of any assessment.”
Heath stared at the older man in growing horror. “You’re going to remove them from their parents for a week to observe them and assess their threat?”
He thought of his sister’s pride as she held her babies. To have them ripped away like this, for such a purpose, would be torture for her.
“The children will not be harmed,” the king said dismissively. “My physicians assure me they are old enough to safely spend a week apart from their mother.”
“And you called yourself reasonable, Your Majesty.”
Heath’s vision was spinning with his fury, but he tried to rein it in. It wasn’t that he cared about placating the king—King Matlock had crossed a line Heath had once thought him far too sensible to come anywhere near, and he found he didn’t care what the king thought of him. But he would get no answers by losing his temper.
He actually closed his eyes for a moment, studying the king instead with his magic. Vision flared inside his mind, not shapes and colors like his eyes saw, but sensations…certainties. He could see the man King Matlock was—wise, measured, responsible. But he was glimpsing that form through something else. There was something dark beneath the surface of the king’s thoughts, something that was twisted around everything else. It was a malignant influence, drawing out the king’s fears and uncertainties, choking his good sense.
It wasn’t magic. There was no hint of that type of power about the king. But its influence was pervasive, nonetheless. Heath’s mind flew to Lachlan’s admission that he didn’t know who or what was influencing his father in recent months.
“Who fed you that bizarre story about another line of the Dragonfriends living on an island near Thorania?” Heath asked the king abruptly. “You didn’t make that up, or hear it in castle gossip. Someone planted the tale, though for what purpose I can’t imagine. Who is in your ear, Your Majesty, leading you astray?”
For the briefest moment, he thought he sensed uncertainty flickering inside the king, then King Matlock stood. He towered over Heath, and there was anger in his eyes.
“You will not speak to your sovereign that way,” he said, his voice no less intimidating for being calm. “I have tolerated a great deal from you and your family, but there is a limit. I am your king, and I will have your loyalty.”
“I once gave that loyalty without hesitation,” Heath said coldly. “I wish I could give it still. But I cannot publicly support a king who would separate a mother from her children simply because they were born with a power he can neither attain for himself nor control. My family has given you no reason to fear them, and yet you’re determined to paint us as dangerous. I never wanted to take sides, but since you force me to do so, there can be no doubt where I land.”
“Do you refuse, then, to pledge your loyalty as required?” the king demanded.
“I do,” Heath said. “At least while you hold to your intentions regarding Laura’s children.”
“There will be a consequence for this defiance,” the king said, anger sparking in his eyes.
“So be it,” Heath told him, his own fury just below the surface.
He fully understood the weight of what he was doing, but he felt no uncertainty. For Percival’s mule-headedness, he hadn’t been willing to take such a stand. But for sweet, cheerful, non-combative Laura—for innocent little Germain and Jacqueline—he was more than willing.
King Matlock strode to the door, pulling it open with more force than necessary. “Guards,” he snapped. “Arrest Lord Heath. Take him to the flogging post.”
Two guards surged into the room and seized Heath’s arms. He made no attempt to resist, too stunned at the turn of events.
“Father, you cannot be serious!” Lachlan was on his feet as well, his face ashen. “Heath is part of our family. He’s a titled lord. Flogging is for criminals. I can’t even remember the last time you ordered a flogging, even for a common thief!”
“If you truly cannot see his open defiance as a crime, Lachlan, then you have been blinded,” said the king, clearly still in the grip of his anger. “He has been guilty of more than you know. I have my own sources regarding his conduct. The power-wielding relatives he has been concealing have been working against us for some time. They were behind the attack for which my own guards were framed.”
He threw a furious look at Heath. “No doubt the treasonous suggestion that the Kyonans were behind the attack came from Lord Heath himself.”
Lachlan gaped at his father, as Heath’s mind spun. Who had been telling the king these clever lies? Just enough truth mixed in to make them credible, and to give the appearance that they solved all the unanswered riddles.
“I should not have let your father talk me down from punishing your brother’s crimes as they deserved,” King Matlock said, turning back to Heath. “And he is not here now to protect you from the consequences of your defiance.” He nodded at a guard. “Take him to the post.”
Heath made no protest as he was marched from the room. It was all too surreal, too absurd. Could he—the only power-wielder of his generation who had truly tried to heal the breach—really be under arrest, about to be publicly flogged like a criminal? Whatever lies King Matlock had been fed, they had been powerful enough to send him past the point of reason.
