so he could kill her on his own terms?
“But you are also the only one who ever saw me or treated me as a person,” he continued flatly. “And in the end, you did the impossible and freed me from a prison I had begun to believe I would never escape. I thought of myself as one dead in every way that mattered, so whatever bits of my soul still remain are thanks to you.” He turned around to face her. “In truth, I owe you everything that now is or ever will be mine. And while I feel some resentment for the depth of that debt, I find that I require still more of you, and it rankles.”
She had no idea what to make of that speech. Did he hate her for saving him? What did he still want? And why did he keep referring to her as a “human”?
“What do you need?” she asked, keeping her voice as steady as she could.
“My magic.” His tone was bitter. “It is still sealed. Behind these bracers, which was the only part of that accursed armor I could not remove. I long to return home, but I dare not without my magic, so I must hope that there is a chance you can do the same to them. Change them, as you did the mask that chained my voice and my will.”
Leisa sucked in a quick, startled breath. She’d felt his magic, and it was immense. If she could free him? He would be the most dangerous person she had ever encountered. Most likely, he already was, even without his magic. His speed, strength, and skill with a blade were staggering.
Did she dare release that magic without knowing what he might do with it? And if she could, did she have the right to refuse?
“I don’t know whether I can,” she said honestly. “And it will be some time before I have the strength to try.” Perhaps time enough to determine whether she should. “But in the meantime, I would prefer you forget this idea of debt between us. I will never accept either payment or thanks for the use of my magic. It is too painful for that.”
She sensed his curiosity. Some remnant of the link between them?
“Painful, how? I have never heard of magic that causes physical pain.”
If there were any way to avoid telling him, she would. The story haunted her, and the wounds seemed to grow deeper with each retelling. But he needed to know why there must be no debt between them.
“It is not that kind of pain,” she admitted. “The truth is, I never knew what to call my magic until Melger named it. It’s always been kept secret, at King Soren’s insistence.”
“What are you to King Soren?” The Raven did not move closer, but seated himself—perhaps for comfort, perhaps so he would seem less threatening. Either way, Leisa was grateful.
“I don’t know,” she confessed, choking back a quick surge of emotion as she realized that she truly didn’t. “For most of my life, he’s treated me like a second daughter. Took me in after my parents disappeared when I was five. Raised me in the palace. Trained me as a guard to the princess and told me to hide what I am.”
When she paused, he asked thoughtfully, “What happened to your parents?”
“I think they left.” She somehow managed to sound as though that didn’t affect her. “Because of me.”
“Because of your magic?” he asked, his voice somehow softer.
“Because I had a sister,” she blurted out, and then wondered why. She’d never told anyone all of it.
“They left because of your sister?”
“She was a year younger than me, and she died when I was five. We were best friends. When they told me she was gone, I couldn’t be consoled. I cried for days. Then, one day, I was looking through my mother’s things, and I found a mirror. I’d never seen myself in one before, and I wanted so badly to see my sister’s face.” She had to swallow a painful lump in her throat. “It was the first time I changed. My face became hers. I was only five, and for a moment, I thought I had brought her back to life in the mirror. I called my mother and she… She was terrified.”
She’d gone ashen and fainted. Leisa had panicked and tried to revive her, then gone after her father, who predictably, acted as though he’d seen a ghost.
“My parents were so