Sky of Wind by Emily Deady

Chapter 30

“You’ve overestimated my abilities, Younn,” Ezra’s quiet voice was unmistakable, even in the dark fortress room where Sol was being held.

“I have all faith in you,” Younn replied, opening the door and letting Ezra into the room before him.

Sol kept his face forward.

Once again, he was on his knees, cut off from his magic, powerless against the cruelty of chaos.

“You are too good to me, friend,” Ezra continued. “But this time I must decline. What you ask is too important to approach without perfect control.”

“I can respect that,” Younn replied. “Here he is. He’d been under your roof for days, and you suspected nothing?”

“I thought you had all faith in me?” Ezra did not hide the hurt in her voice. “Of course I suspected something. I asked my maid to keep a close watch on him.”

Sol was glad he’d never spoken in front of Laila when she came to assist Meena. Not that it mattered in the end.

“Why else would she have let you into my home in the middle of the night instead of raising the alarm?”

“Because I paid her off,” Younn replied.

“So you don’t trust me?” Ezra replied. “All you had to do was ask, my friend.”

“You are taking offense at nothing, Ezra. If I didn’t trust you, would I offer to let you siphon him?”

“I’m not siphoning him. Not because you don’t trust me, but because I don’t trust myself. Though, now I’m having second thoughts.”

“Let us put this behind us,” Younn said, his voice ever the friendly diplomat. “I clearly trust you. It’s your turn, do what you do. Work your magic, if you will.”

“Thank you,” she replied, sounding somewhat placated. “I’ll make sure the gem is full, that should prove our theory is correct.”

“And if our theory is wrong, leave the gem on, and Gareth will accept him, regardless.” Younn chucked at his own cleverness.

Ezra did not respond.

Sol saw her feet step closer to him.

They could crush him all they wanted, but they would never break him. That was the only power he had left.

Raising his face, Sol looked directly into the eyes of the woman who had entertained, fed, and laughed with them over the last few days.

She met his gaze without remorse as she approached him, hands held forward.

His body tensed in preparation for all the too familiar pain.

As she began to speak in a high, dissonant voice—which sounded imperial with her icy tones—the small wax burn on Sol’s hand began to rage like an inferno.

The feeling of the burn spread through his hand and up his arm, trapping his throat and cutting off his ability to breathe.

Sol felt the wave of pain wash over him, but he didn’t fight it. He felt it. He knew it was cruel and unjust. And he hated it.

Ezra was not only a Quotidian, she was trained in using chaos magic.

Sol let her work her pain through his body, almost relishing the chance to feel an anger and desperation he could not express.

Out of habit, he bit his tongue so as not to yell out in pain. He knew he needn’t have bothered, because the gem would have silenced him anyway.

But he refused to let them see him break.

The moments passed surprisingly quickly, and Sol felt her magic loosen its hold on his body.

He slumped forward over his knees, dropping his head to the ground with a dull thump, since his hands were not free to catch him.

The external pain in his head was not worth noticing. It was expected, even. No one ever caught him when he fell.

Another stab of pain flowed through his chest, but this one was not physical. Meena had literally made a jest earlier that morning about carrying his weight so he didn’t have to.

“He is a Majis,” Ezra said, her voice emotionless. “Though I imagine he does not feel close to harmony right now.”

“So, Solano is the missing Sol.” Younn sounded quite pleased with himself.

Grasping the last bit of defiance he still held, Sol lifted shoulders, stretching his neck up to meet her gaze once more.

He wanted her to see his hatred. He wanted her to think she had not broken him, even though he knew otherwise.

Only something whole could be broken, and he had never considered himself whole.

Until Meena.

Until Meena had offered him something whole.

And what was whole could be broken.

Ezra’s cold eyes held his for longer than necessary. Her gaze flickered once, as though she would tell him something, but she blinked and the look passed.

Sol spat, his saliva landing on the ground at her feet.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do the siphoning?” Younn asked.

“Don’t tempt me,” Ezra responded, taking a step back. “We are finished here. Send him north. Our king will be pleased with you.”

“Pleased with me?” Younn’s voice was slightly uncomfortable.

“I helped you clean up the mess you made, Councilor. I trust you won’t forget it.”