then back to her. “Zoelyn or Zoey? Which name do you
prefer, child?”
“Either is fine, Milord Arovan,” Zoelyn
began, bowing her head with respect and gratitude to the High Lord.
While both he and Blackwolf were of equal rank among the Elder
Blood, they were in Arovan which meant his word was law here and no
matter how badly Lord Blackwolf may want to speak, he didn’t dare
interrupt the High Lord of Arovan. “I drain anything of magic,
Milord, from items to spells. I drain the life from creatures,
though I do not know how large of creatures I affect. Aside from
the fish yesterday the only accident I have had previously was a
kitten, and I assure you that was a bitter lesson that I will never
forget. I avoid touching things that I know I will hurt. I hate it
when I damage even the smallest plant,” Zoelyn explained and
lowered her head once more. It was possible that she had just used
more words in that single breath that she had spoken in the last
week. Lord Arovan seemed genuinely interested, however, and it gave
her a bit of hope that she might possibly avoid exile.
“General Troyelle, bring in Amlon,” Lord
Blackwolf ordered and Zoey watched in suspicion as the General
quickly left the tent.
“What do you have in mind, Nicoli?” Lord
Arovan asked softly.
“I know what she is. I intend to show you as
well,” Nicoli Blackwolf replied quietly in a voice as cold as
winter. “What is she, Father?” Sebastian asked curiously.
“I’d actually like that answer as well.”
Zoelyn added her own voice and forced herself to remain in place as
Lord Blackwolf glared at her.
“She is the reason we have the word Undrae in our language. She is a creature I had hoped was
extinct. There is nothing more unnatural than this thing before us,
Elijah, and I urge you to end it here,” Lord Blackwolf answered
softly.
“End it? You mean kill her?” Dominic gasped,
his eyes widening. “Lord Arovan, please the child is innocent. She
does no wrong, and I swear to you she keeps her powers closely
guarded so that she doesn’t harm so much as a blade of grass.”
Before the High Lord of Arovan could respond,
the tent flap opened once more and General Troyelle pushed a
manacled young man before the High Lords. The man was filthy and
dressed in the Rivasan colors of red and yellow. His blond hair was
matted with blood and his eyes were wild as he searched the faces
in the tent for a sign of what was to become of him.
“Amlon, you are convicted of treason and
aiding the enemy of our land. You are native of Glis, and yet you
have betrayed your countrymen by leading the Rivasan forces through
Arovan. If not for you, Micah Arovan and Honor Hai’dia might still
live. You have been sentenced to death, but you plead that you are
innocent. Because of this, I give you another option.” Nicoli
smiled coldly at the man as he slowly turned to look at Zoelyn.
“The girl possesses unusual magic. Simply touch her so that we may
learn the truth and you may win your freedom.”
Zoelyn stepped back quickly and shook her
head at the prisoner. “He lies,” she hissed, her eyes widening.
“To insult a High Lord in that fashion is a
grave offense, child,” Lord Blackwolf scolded, shaking his head in
disapproval at her, though his serpent-like smile never faded. “If
you are innocent you have nothing to fear, Amlon,” the high lord
pressed and waved a hand in her direction.
Amlon looked between the High Lord and Zoelyn
and then back, his eyes still wide with panic. “All I have to do is
touch her?” he asked in a hesitant voice.
“Milord, please stop this,” Dominic begged,
his eyes moving from Troyelle to Elijah and back.
“My son is dead and this man claims he is
innocent,” Elijah began in a quiet voice. He regarded the prisoner
with a cold stare and nodded to Nicoli. “I approve of this
test.”
“I don’t!” Zoelyn broke in loudly as the
prisoner took a step toward her. “Please don’t touch me. It won’t
save
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