He hesitated. “Not yet. We need to gather Intel first. Watch me,” he instructed before speaking the incantation for the air bubble clearly and slowly. The bubble formed around him. “Now you.”
She followed the instructions, repeating what he had said. A bubble formed around her as well, though it was larger than his.
She heard him saying something, but it was muffled. “What?” she shouted.
“You are a showoff,” he shouted back.
* * *
THE PAIN WAS INCREASING exponentially with every second as Emane began the ascent back to consciousness. He fought it, trying to return to the blackness where the pain had not followed. But it was no use—he was still burning from the inside out. His eyes fluttered open as a single sob escaped his lips, and that was enough. The jerk of his back and stomach taught him a quick lesson.
Gently moving his fingers, he began the healing process. Luckily he had been out long enough that his magic had returned. The relief of healing spread outward as he moved his fingers carefully to each new area. It took a few minutes, but he finally got the pain under control. Shaking, he relaxed flat, wiping the sweat from his face. He had to get out of here.
Rolling his head to the side, Emane stared into the plush room that surrounded his little cage. A glint of silver caught his eye and he pushed himself up. There, on a small table near the fireplace, lay his sword and dagger. Maybe if he could get them . . .
“Prince Emane, how are you feeling?”
His head jerked as a familiar face walked into the room. “Layla?”
“I am surprised you even remember my name,” Layla said tightly as she neared the cage. “Kiora had quite a hold on you.”
Emane eyed her warily. “And what use does Dralazar have for you? You’re just a Witow, like me.”
“Am I?” She opened her hand and flames flickered across her fingers.
He stumbled backwards. “You can do magic?”
“Yes, apparently I can. Thanks to Dralazar, I know how to use it.” Layla took a step forward. “Kiora wouldn’t tell me,” she said, raising her chin, “didn’t want me to know.”
“Layla, don’t be ridiculous. Kiora didn’t even know she had magic, let alone you.”
Layla took another step towards the cage, smiling at the flames in her hand. “That’s what she would like you to believe, but I know better.”
Emane took another step back. “Why, because Dralazar told you so? He’s lying, can’t you see?”
“Shut up!” she screamed, her eyes wide with a rage Emane had never seen in any of the villagers. “Don’t talk about him like that!”
His mouth snapped shut, his eyebrows pulling together. “Layla, what happened to you?” he nearly whispered.
“I had my eyes opened, and so will you. You will see Kiora for what she really is.”
He took two firm steps towards Layla, the bars between them crackling. “I have seen her more clearly than you ever will. There is nothing you can do to change my mind.”
“Where is she?” Layla asked through clenched teeth.
“I don’t know.”
Layla stepped so close to the cage, Emane could have reached out and grabbed her. Glancing over her shoulder, he tried to remember what Drem had told him. Feel the desire first, then call the magic. He would only get one shot at this.
“Where is she?” Layla shouted, fire flickering in both of her upturned palms.
“Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.” His hand flew out, calling the dagger. The dagger wiggled before jerking itself off the table and flying across the room. It worked! But then it stopped, frozen in mid air, twisting and turning as if struggling against another force. Emane frowned, trying to force the dagger onward.
Layla whirled around as Dralazar unbubbled, his hand also extended towards the dagger.
“Emane, how interesting. So many things about you I don’t know,” Dralazar said. The dagger continued to turn in the air, spinning away from Emane. He resisted, trying to turn it back around.
With a crooked smile, Dralazar quickly twisted his hand, jerking the dagger free of Emane’s control. The dagger completed its turn in the air before whizzing towards Emane’s outstretched hand, the point of the dagger catching him in the palm and going straight through.
Emane yelled as he dropped to his knees, grasping his hand. The dagger was buried up to the hilt, the bloody point sticking out the back of his hand.
Dralazar strode across the room, slapping Layla across the face so