A Prince Among Killers - By J. B. Redmond Page 0,99
awareness on any one point.
Falconer slept on, oblivious to Aron’s battle.
Aron’s mind kept flashing back to the day he was Harvested, to Dari unconscious in the wagons, and how Stormbreaker and Windblown had underestimated the amount of elixir needed to keep her subdued. Was that because she was Stregan—or did those with powerful legacies require larger or more frequent dosing?
The bullroot might keep him from using his graal, but maybe attempting to use it would give him freedom sooner than Falconer expected.
Aron mustered his inner resolve and strength, and hurled his awareness toward the Veil.
Moments later, he collapsed back into himself, unsuccessful, but more determined.
His lids felt so heavy he could barely keep his eyes open, but he glared at Falconer nonetheless, letting his anger grow until it felt like a stoked fire in his chest.
Rage.
Desperation.
Aron welcomed any emotion. All emotion. Maybe it would help him shed the mental and physical paralysis.
He launched his mind toward the Veil again. Again. Again.
Each attempt weakened him, made him more drowsy. If he could have banged his head against the stone wall behind him, he would have done it, just to stay awake.
If he broke through the Veil, would he kill Falconer with a thought?
Could he do such a thing?
It would be simple enough to locate the man’s life functions, if he could only fight off the effects of the bullroot.
Aron tried for the Veil again, but his awareness slid back into his body.
He let himself remember Falconer’s insult to Dari, and what the man said about Dari needing evaluation and training. Did that mean Falconer and his friends would begin masquerading as gods and the Goddess in her dreams? Would they torture her with false images of her sister?
Aron wouldn’t let that happen.
He could kill Falconer.
Aron’s head drooped against his chest, and his mouth opened despite his efforts to keep his lips closed.
He would kill Falconer.
If he could just stay awake.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
DARI
Dari stood at her window, gazing into the endless darkness of Triune. Her attention was riveted southward, toward the Ruined Keep, despite Stormbreaker’s presence in her chamber.
“He will survive,” Stormbreaker said, placing his hand on the small of Dari’s back. Behind them, a fire crackled in the hearth, and the sweet smell of bubbling herbal tea wafted through the chamber.
“Herder didn’t survive,” Dari said, unable to stop frowning. “Why does Stone insist on this ridiculous initiation? Aron doesn’t agree with it. I don’t agree with it. It’s archaic and foolish, and—and it’s wasteful.”
Stormbreaker’s calm tones were almost maddening. “It’s traditional. In a guild, tradition is of great importance. Shared experiences—”
“I know. I know. They bind you together.” She smacked her hands against the windowsill, wishing Stormbreaker would rail against the trial, or complain about her opinion. She would have preferred anything to that frustrating, emotionless tone. It was his strength, and most times quite attractive, but this night, Dari also found it to be a weakness. His placid serenity made her feel foolish and out of control.
Where was Nic?
He, at least, had the emotions of a normal man.
And the sense never to participate in something like Stone’s trial.
Stormbreaker pressed his fingers against her robe, massaging the spot on her spine where she always held her tension. “Should we call Blath back from the kitchens and journey to search for Kate?”
It was a reasonable suggestion, one that reflected how well Stormbreaker knew Dari, and anticipated her need to stay busy in the face of distress.
Tonight, though, action didn’t appeal to her. It seemed wrong. Risky, and somehow disrespectful to Aron. She shook her head. “I can’t focus. I’d be a danger.”
Stormbreaker moved his hand away from her, and for a time, he gazed out the window with her. Then he cleared his throat and offered, “A walk, perhaps? The moonslight is bright, and the exertion might be relaxing.”
Dari thought he was offering more than a walk. His attention. His strong embrace. It was a kindness, but she didn’t want that, at least not tonight. For a moment, she worried that Stormbreaker would be jealous or peevish because of her concern for Aron, then dismissed the worry. He was concerned, too. And, Dari realized with a start, she really didn’t care if Stormbreaker became upset with her.
What did that mean?
Once more, she wondered if Nic was awake in his bedchamber in the infirmary. If she went to see him, would Snakekiller let her pass?
Her skin chilled, and she dug her nails into the wood of the windowsill. “Something feels wrong to me this