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Aeryn!
Then all was gone.
Chapter Twenty - The Failure
Aeryn
The voices wouldn’t quiet. They spoke over each other, each one fighting to be heard over the next.
Would they just shut up? I didn’t have the patience to pretend I liked them today.
Wait a second.Who were they exactly? I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. They just had to go so I could return to my sleep. Consciousness meant pain, the horrible thrumming of my headache threatening to split my temples open at the seams.
A hand pressed down on my shoulder, and I became vaguely aware that the voices had been calling to me, trying to get me to wake.
The assholes.
Asshole I may be, Little Thief, but it’s still time for you to awake. Marik’s familiar psychic voice shattered my hopes for silence. I remained defiant hoping he would get the message.
He didn’t, however, as was apparent by the psychic fingers running tight circles on the bottom of my feet. I kicked out in instinct, trying to fight his hold. Damn my ticklish feet!
He pulled back when I sat up in bed, the tug of an IV dragging out a wince. Gods I hated IVs - nothing unnatural and sharp should be under my skin. I was a caster with knives, I stuck the pointy things in things, not the other way around.
“Ah, Miss Ryans, you’re awake.” Lord Harseth stood in a group across the room. Huh, apparently the voices weren’t in my head after all.
“What happened?” I asked, my throat sounding like sixty grit sandpaper had been run through it by a four-year-old.
“You failed your trial,” Sister Elena said without pretense. “You are in fact lucky to be alive after how much energy you spent in this spectacularly terrible endeavor. It is only with the quick thinking of Ambassador Valerius lending us his enforcer with a modicum of healing abilities that you survived.”
“And the woman?”
“The Forgotten is no longer serving her sentence.”
So, she had died. A part of me should have been relieved that she no longer lived that torment, but I simply wasn’t. It was a tragedy; one I had failed to prevent.
I wondered if I would dream of her tonight - another lost soul to add to the collection on my wrist.
I dropped my head to my hands, the IV tugging at my inner arm as I did so. Tears threatened to spill from the back of my eyes, but I bit them back. It wouldn’t be good to show them how much I had cared about a Forgotten.
Casters were never meant to mourn the unfaithful.
Corbin cleared his throat when the heaviness of the situation became a palpable tension across the room. “You have been cleared of any wrongdoing in young master Fixston’s death.”
I raised my head back up to study his bright gray eyes still flecked with the gentle hues of lavender. He approached my bed and sat next to it, his hand gently reaching out to pat my shoulder. My Coppertone demon growled somewhere in my mind, but I ignored him for the moment in favor of the striking man before me. The humility that pulsed from him calmed me, the gentle upturn at the corner of his mouth genuine - a secret smile he’d chosen to display just for me.
“Yes,” Lord Harseth continued. “Ambassador Valerius has made a logical argument on your behalf, which we have chosen to accept.”
I waited for the Lord to continue. What was it with these guys and dramatic pauses? Was a precursor for promotion an acting class from William Shatner?
“It has been determined that since you were unable to cure the faehawk, it would not have been possible for you to fully cure the naga venom.”
“The blame lies solely with Sister Cara. She should not have left you alone to handle Mr. Fixston’s condition and shall be addressed accordingly.” Sister Elena interjected, he hands for once resting at her side instead of tucked away in her sleeves.
“Addressed how?” I asked skeptically. I’d always liked Sister Cara as much as I could have liked a professor at the school. She had been patient, and while not outwardly warm, had been tolerant of the students - something I couldn’t say for many of the other sisters.
“Addressed.” Sister Elena stated firmly, and I knew any further questioning would be futile. “You know what this means, correct?”
I nodded my head, not wanting to hear it. But the sister took no pity on me. I swore the woman wanted to make me squirm.
