Emberhawk - Jamie Foley Page 0,51

he enjoyed gardening. He used his knowledge to create the deadliest poisons known to man.

Because Lysander was an assassin who took his orders directly from the queen.

Ryon’s hand moved to the knife beside his plate. He set his cup down. “And what would someone like that be doing here?”

“Well, unfortunately, the Emberhawk don’t take kindly to their own people with disabilities.” Waelyn tapped his forehead between his pupilless eyes. “Harvesting d’hakka silk is dangerous, but it allows people like us to make a good living.”

“Lysander isn’t just an herbalist, and he has no need for money.” Ryon stood, causing his chair to screech back across the floor. “I am a pale mask of the Katrosi. Tell me your purpose here now, and I will report you favorably to the chieftess because of your hospitality.”

The room fell silent as a forest in the face of the predator. “Ryon,” Kira whispered. He ignored her concerned expression as the room tilted.

Ryon gritted his teeth and steadied himself on the table’s edge. Pain and exhaustion mingled, hitting him like the tide. He tightened his grip on the knife.

“What are you suggesting about Lysander?” Sylendrin murmured. “Is he hiding something from us?”

He was lying. Lysander enjoyed killing just as surely as Ryon didn’t. That difference had caused their separation two years ago. And if Ryon knew his cousin and Lysander’s mother—the queen—nothing had changed in that time.

Darkness crept on the edges of Ryon’s vision. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He lifted the blade and pointed it across the table at Sylendrin. “Tell me the truth . . . now.”

“Calm down, buck.” Waelyn waved a hand in Ryon’s direction. “We’re not your enemy.”

Kira put a hand on Ryon’s arm, causing him to jump. He hadn’t seen her get up. “You don’t look well. Sit down and we can—”

“I knew you looked familiar.” Sylendrin leaned back in his chair and smiled like a snake. “Different coloring, but a lot like Lysander . . . you’re just shorter and dimmer.”

Sleep swayed over Ryon, smothering him like an assailant twice his weight. He looked down at the table and watched his cup blur. The tea had been particularly strong, even for a healing brew.

Strong enough to cover the flavor of fadeleaf.

Ryon dashed around the table and lunged at Sylendrin, but the room flipped and slammed him on his back. The ceiling lost its color above him.

I knew I never should’ve trusted them!

Kira’s face appeared over his, her bright eyes wide and filled with fear. He thought he felt her touch on his face, but even the pain from his shoulder seemed distant.

He tried to tell her to leave. To get out of here before they restrained her.

She was just a bystander; their revenge shouldn’t include her. She didn’t deserve it.

But the darkness overpowered him, and only a sigh escaped his lips.

23

KIRALAU

“What have you done?” Kira pressed two fingers into Ryon’s neck. His pulse was strong, but he was hotter than metal tools left out on a midsummer day.

She glared up at Sylendrin. “You—”

“I didn’t do anything.” Sylendrin tore a mouthful of meat from bone and leaned in his chair to get a view of Ryon sprawled on the floor. “Looks like he was too busy playing alpha to get his wound treated.”

Kira’s lip curled into a snarl. “He wouldn’t just fall over like that.”

“I put ’im down with some fadeleaf.” Waelyn shuffled over. “Don’t worry, chickadee. Just put him to sleep.”

Kira’s panicked heart jerked in different directions. “Why would you do that?”

“Because his wound is terribly infected, and he didn’t trust me enough to let me treat it.” Waelyn knelt at Ryon’s side and wrestled with his dark leather armor. “It’ll kill him if it’s not treated straight away. Can’t ya smell it?”

Oh, no. Kira didn’t stop Waelyn as he cut away at Ryon’s armor with a serrated blade. She couldn’t smell anything, but she’d heard a rumor that those who had lost one sense could detect other senses more strongly.

The leather fell away, and Kira covered her mouth in horror. The skin around Ryon’s puncture wound was a variety of blue, green, and purple shades that human flesh should never be.

“Does it look as bad as it smells?” Waelyn muttered. He gingerly touched Ryon’s skin, then looked up at Kira with a dark depth in his gaze. “I’m sorry, but he may not survive this.”

Her world slowed, like a spinning top just before it toppled over. No, he was acting like he was fine! She backed