Page 32

Chapter 32

Laude

Where was Jaime? My fingers curled around a pewter mug of watered-down wine, and my elbows dug into the dining table. Lamps lit the big empty room in the dark of night. I was alone, save Ignacio and another man, who stood guard at the door, keeping me from wandering La Lavia’s corridors.

The galleon swayed in a way that made me want to spew my supper, but I held it in because bargaining with this Whyzer Patro might be a bit more difficult with my vomit rolling back and forth over our boots. The nightmare of a man said we’d have a civilized conversation in here because obviously, we couldn’t have stayed on deck to talk about what he wanted from me. At first, I thought it a mistake that he’d left with the others still in the palace of Aracibel, but over an hour had passed, and Prince Hugo’s words about the whyzer knowing me nailed into my heart.

Someone stomped outside the empty dining room, and Whyzer Patro entered. He whispered something to the two men in hushed tones. Ignacio smirked in my direction with his foul little face and giant ears that made him look more like a rat than a mouse. My tongue poked out of my mouth.

Ignacio chuckled, which got the other two men’s attention, whipping their heads toward me. I reeled in my tongue so quickly you’d have thought I’d caught a fly. Although the backstabbing fake Dotado didn’t take offense to my childish antics, I had a suspicion that the whyzer wouldn’t be so amused.

“Laude, have you had time to consider my request?” Whyzer Patro removed his hood, giving me a full view of his peppered hair, more black than gray.

“I’m not sure I can think without knowing that Jaime’s safe.”

“You mean your betrothed?” The way the black pools of his eyes glistened with amusement didn’t do anything to settle my nausea.

“Well, are you going to bring him up here?”

“You’ll see him soon enough.”

A long string of seconds passed as the sea pounded against the sides of the ship. I hadn’t a thing to say to this fellow, so I prayed. Ancient One, please give me another word because I have no idea what I’m doing.

Whyzer Patro broke the silence. “You’ve got your father’s eyes and your mother’s fiery hair.”

I watched him, too unsure of what he could want to open my mouth.

“You know, your mother was nothing but a passing diversion for the king?”

The languid way he said diversion, like he meant something fouler than rotten toast chewed over by mice with cockroach droppings on top, thickened a knot in my throat.

And I was right. Whyzer Patro continued to speak. Mamá hadn’t fallen in love with a knight despite rigid rules. She’d been used because some evil king wanted someone he could never keep.

“You mean he was a liar like you.” Sickness hit me in the gut. I wretched all over the floor, dripping the contents of my stomach on the hem of my dress. When my gag reflex stopped and all I could do was wipe my lips with my sleeve, I turned my teary eyes toward the whyzer. He wrinkled his nose at me, disgusted more at my reaction than at my words. Tears welled in my eyes along with a million unanswered questions. Why didn’t my mother explode into a fireball, burning the scoundrel who sired me? How did this whyzer come to know the truth?

Whyzer Patro’s thick eyebrows furrowed as if he’d read my thoughts. “The elder king of Pedroz was unaffected by giftings and even blocked those in his presence from being able to use their abilities. I’ve heard you have fire, but what else can you do?”

Without a thought, I lit my finger and pushed, with all my might, the heat to the ends of my markings. The weak flame grew only the smallest fraction. In my mind, I imagined the flame engulfing the wooden table and chairs and catching light on the walls and ceilings until this galleon was no more.

“You descend from two powerful parents. What else can you do?”

“I showed you. What do you want from me?” I swallowed the lingering taste of vomit.

He lifted a glowing palm of orange and yellow light and reached for my wrist.

On instinct, I yanked myself away, stepping even further into my mess on the floor.

“Give me your wrist.” His tone commanded with such authority, but my mind combatted my natural inclination to obey. “I’m a whyzer and can read giftings.”

Curiosity sparked within me, but this man had abducted Jaime and me, beat Jaime, and started a war with Giddel. He planned to have Beatriz and Cosme killed.

“Put your arm on the table. I can answer questions about your mother. Where she came from. Why she worked for me. What type of person she was. I doubt Cottia has divulged much information. It’s not her style.”

I shook my head viciously. The queen wanted this man dead for a reason and even trained me to do away with him. The poison stitched into my bodice seemed to pulse from its hidden spot, which I knew was ridiculous. Yet the phantom sensation reminded me that my one job was to get him to drink the death serum.

“Bring Jaime up,” the whyzer commanded his ruffians.

“No.” With hesitation, I set my forearm on the table. “I want to know everything.”

A wicked grin curled the corners of his mustache, and he wrapped his bony fingers around my wrist. His touch was cold. Though a warm glow filled the space between my skin and his, he seeped ice and malice and a strange sensation that reached to my bones.

“So where did she come from? How did you meet her? Why would she work for you?” The eagerness in my voice made me sound desperate, but I couldn’t help myself. “How did you know about me?”

His gaze shifted from my arm to my eyes. “Your mother begged me to get rid of you.” He had to have been joking, but he kept a serious look that unraveled my insides.

“You lie.” My words squeaked.

“I do not. Your mother was desperate for help, but I refused to assist a traitor.” He let his cold grip fall from my arm and lifted his walking stick. The top lit like coal in a flame, and he chanted several foreign phrases under his breath.

A breeze swirled through the room, dimming the two lamps and sending a shiver so deep it might have frozen my blood through and through. “What are you doing?”

“Marking you.”

I jumped out of my seat and fled several paces. Did he mean the type of mark he left on Queen Cottia? It was the reason she had stayed in Giddel. She said he used to control her with the binding.

Oh, Ancient One, cool his ember, make it so he can’t touch me.

The tip of the whyzer’s staff went out. He whispered to it again, but it did not come alive. “Laude, you are correct that you only have a flame. All I want is to bring to life the dormant gift in your blood. It won’t feel like anything but a touch on your skin. Do you not want to be powerful?”

His words woke something up inside me, a longing to be important.

“You are a queen by birth and the only one with a legitimate claim to the crown of Pedroz. You’ll never survive without a power to protect yourself.”

“I am no queen.” My arms wrapped around my body, the only form of protection I could muster.

“But you will be.” The soothing tone to his voice could enchant. “That’s why I saved you from the Black Prince. His job is to put to death the old rulers.”

My very bones shook more than leaves trembling in a gale.

“You will be part of the rule to come. People will follow you because you carry the blood of the last of the great rulers, yet you are not one of them. I will make you great. You will not age or see an end to your rule. You will be a goddess, with all you’ve ever wanted at your fingertips.”

“That’s not what I want.” I bumped into the back wall, now several arm lengths away from the whyzer, yet still way too close. The power he spoke of sounded like the twisted power I’d read about in the Ancient Tome, the power that destroyed the people of old.

“Then what do you want? I can get it for you.”

My head shook on its own. I merely wanted a quiet life in the countryside with Jaime, where I could visit my friends in Giddel and Himzo. No luxury could replace a quiet life with those I loved.

Please stop him from marking me, Ancient One.

The fire on his staff went out completely. He flinched at the sight, and his face turned grave with deep wrinkles bracketing his mouth. “Then you will suffer the same fate as your friends in Giddel, but you won’t get a swift blade. You’ll drown in the Agata Sea with lungs full of sea water.”

He smacked my face with his staff and whistled.

Pain laced my cheek, and the telltale warmth of blood pooling throbbed along with every doubt he’d placed in my heart about my past and the fear for my short future.

Ears and the burly guard came into the room.

“Take her below.”

Should I just let him brand me? What could be worse than drowning?