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Oh, by heaven, hell, and every god in the entire universe, what the fuck is this voice?
If I thought Valdred’s voice delightful, this one is something else. Not suave, but grave, not deep but endless, like the vibration of the earth itself made into a sound too pure and terrifyingly enticing.The deepest of baritones, a sound so dark and delicious it's honestly out of the world I know. Musicians would die to hear another note, another sound. It's infused with power, energy, magic, and so many spells. No wonder he's so parsimonious with his words, only giving a few at a time. They're potent.
I huff, unable to find a logical protest.
It’s unfair, really. I want to remain righteously angry, but most of my rage evaporates, replaced by bone-deep fatigue.
I’m also reassured my instincts aren’t completely useless. He was helping me, in his own traumatic, brutal way. I was right to feel safe—at least, safer—with him.
“And Junis didn’t curse you. He bound you to him, by the laws of the land. Undoing that will be tricky.” Ryther tilts his head. “You’re stronger now, though. You'll resist all but a simple, direct order.”
“How could she emerge?” Valdred whispers to himself, somehow out of sync with the rest of us. He's reacting to Ryther's previous comment, minutes later.
Turning to him, I notice a trace of fear, in both his eyes and his voice.
And it pleases me.
Ryther glances away from me for the first time, and I feel the loss of his eyes, like a candle blown out in the dark.
“You know how, boy.” He lifts his scorched hand, still mostly black, though unbelievably, some of the flesh is already starting to crawl back under the coal.
He’s healing, and fast.
“These are the waters where, thousands of year ago, four mighty rulers of the folk laid slivers of their powers, to grant them to Morrigan, so she might stand above all of our kind.” Although the slow, low voice is addressing Valdred, the starry eyes remain fixed on me. “The waters have always been poison to all but our high queen. And her line.”
He’s talking in riddles or gibberish, and I’m going to have a headache if he doesn’t stop.
“Then how did I get out?” I demand, scrunching my nose. “Is it because you pulled me?”
“You’d never have reached the surface if you were anyone else.”
“Right. That makes perfect sense.” He doesn’t want to answer me, and I decide not to push. I have bigger concerns. “Look, I just need to get out of here. Please show me to a portal, or a gate, or whatever. I can go home, and we can all forget this ever happened.”
I’m begging, both with my voice and with my eyes.
The side of Ryther’s lips curls up for half a second, so fleetingly I think I’ve imagined it. “How do you think they’ll welcome you now, back in your iron world?”
I don’t know what he’s talking about, but he’s staring straight at me, as if to point out an obvious flaw.
Maybe the waters made a worse mess of my already dreadful “gown.” I guess I should ask for some clothes before they take me back home. I’m reluctant to accept any delay, though. I have plenty of clothes in my wardrobe. They just need to drop me home, dammit.
I glance back toward the surface, to check my general state.
My heart stops. I hadn’t noticed how slow it was until I wait for it to start again.
I should have died seven times in the minutes it takes.
I stand completely still and silent as I watch my reflection.
What did they do to me?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A FAIRY CHALLENGE
Darina
In a way, I am still myself. I recognize the reflection: the shape of my lips, my diminutive height, the color of my skin. Sort of. Its shimmery glow is new, but that could be a trick of the light.
