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It did.
The temperature of her body seemed to increase by several degrees. Sweat permeated her brow. The air around her began to agitate as though a storm were brewing around her, whipping her hair this way and that. A pulsing sensation palpated her spin all the way to the base of her skull. Whatever was happening, it was magnificent and terrifying at the same time, all this power, like a nuke preparing for the big finale, but instead of enriched plutonium, the power bloomed from an untapped well within her.
She waited until she was brimming with power, then she forced the magic into Orik.
A bright light flashed. She opened her eyes, nearly gasping at the sight of her glowing hands over Orik’s torso, both of them suffused in an almost liquid-like gathering of power, so bright it nearly hurt her eyes to look at it.
She pushed more of it into Orik, but within seconds, it appeared to seep right out of him, dormant and benign. It wasn’t working.I can’t do this. I can’t save him. I can’t save anyone. My father. My mother. Myself.I’m useless.
As tears soaked her cheeks, despair ate at her confidence and she began to lose the light. Desperately, she cupped his cheek. “Wake up, Orik. Please wake up. Please don’t go. You have duties. Responsibilities. People who love you. You said you’d protect me. You have to keep me out of trouble. You know how I like trouble. And you promised to take me flying again. And I’m not done being mad at you. I can’t be mad at you if you’re gone. I can’t let you get in the last word. Do you hear me? Get up!” Anger fisted her hands, and she slammed them down on his chest.
Thump.
“Get up!”
Thump.
“WAKE UP!”This time she slammed her palms down hard. Unmitigated power exploded outward, bathing the room in a split-second of blinding light. The percussion blasted the onlookers back, sending them airborne for several heart-stopping moments before they crashed to the ground. All the air seemed to siphon from Jessie’s lungs as energy flowed from her like water down a drain, going straight into Orik. She let it all go. Gave him everything she had, wave after pulsating wave careening into him until it found the bottom of that well and sapped it dry.
When her strength finally waned, abandoning every inch of her, the light fizzled out and she slumped over him, utterly exhausted, barely able to keep her eyes open. The others in the room began to slowly rise, their expressions wary and bewildered.
Then came the most beautiful, raspy sentence she’d ever heard. “I never promised to take you flying again.”
She smiled. “Dick.” Then she succumbed to blissful unconsciousness.
25
Voices faded in and out, terribly muffled, as though she were hearing them while submerged underwater. Jessie would have thought she’d been dreaming if it wasn’t for the constant aches and pains in her body that continually drew her subconscious to the surface. But she couldn’t quite break through.
“Nonetheless, we must assume she conspired with the enemy,” an unfamiliar voice boomed.
“I just don’t believe that.” That East Coast inflection surely belonged to June. What were they going on about? Her mind felt like a confused, fuzzy mess, fighting to stay conscious.
“I find it far too coincidental for a human who infiltrated the royal family to have suddenly gained the powers of a devious witch just before a daring attempt on our King’s life. And just look at her hand. The mark of guilt, if you ask me.”
Was this stranger insinuating she’d been involved in the attack? And where was Orik? Why weren’t they discussing his health? Was he okay? Why couldn’t she bring herself to fully awaken? To open her eyes? Her body seemed all but paralyzed, though she thought she’d managed to move her hand.
At length, Jessie’s faculties became less muddled. She sensed she was in a dimly lit room, large enough for a slight echo, somewhat stuffy from being seldom used. The scent of cleaning polish pervaded, but she also smelled a familiar musk that instantly soothed her. She perceived she was being held aloft in someone’s strong arms.
“We appreciate your opinion, Prince Gideon.” That sounded like Edel, her tone exasperated and beyond wearied. “We will take it into consideration. For now, I suggest we all get some sleep. It has been a terribly eventful evening.”
“Agreed, Your Majesty,” this Prince Gideon person replied. “Your family has been through enough. I will return the witch to her cell.”
No. Not again!
Someone grumbled something after that, but then blackness pulled Jessie down into its murky depths.
She didn’t know how much time had passed when she began to emerge from unconsciousness once more. She was lying atop a soft surface, tucked under a warm blanket. Some unknown light source illuminated beyond her eyelids. Still, she couldn’t take command of her body. She was like a bean in a shell, waiting for her pod to open.
Prickly daggers of pain assaulted her body, hot and icy at the same time.
She sensed movement around her. The plush surface jostled. The light blinked out. Again that musky scent surrounded her, and she relaxed.
Over what could have been several hours or several days, her consciousness continued to surface and recede, but only enough to know that she was trapped in her body, that pain was always present, and she was no closer to shedding her paralysis, but she was able to gather scant bits of information.
She no longer believed she’d been returned to that dank prison. The scents here were clean and pleasant, the mattress beneath her free of lumps. Sometimes the fragrance of cooked food tempted her stomach. Sometimes that masculine scent tempted her body. She was almost positive it was Orik who hovered around her. That thought gave her relief.
On occasion, someone would test the heat of her forehead and cheeks, alerting her to the sensation of being feverish.
