Page 38 of This Dark Descent
A slow smile spread across Damien’s lips at the Kinnish name she’d chosen.
It meant crown.
Beautiful, breathed the voice, and in it, Arifeltits satisfaction. It coursed through her, entwining with her own until she could no longer deny that whatever it was, whatever it meant—that voice was not hers.
Then she dropped to the floor.
SHE WOKE TOthe sound of people arguing in Kinnish.
“Listen to me, Dara. What she did—she should be dead! No one has that kind of power.” That was Shira.
“You’re overreacting,” Damien replied. “Clearly someone does have that kind of power, and I’m not going to tell her to stop using it the moment she’s discovered it.”
Her eyes fluttered open. She was on the chaise in the sitting area, a pillow beneath her head and a blanket tucked over her shoulders. Her thoughts felt as though they were swimming in honey, unable to detach from one another.
“Arielle?” Damien noticed her first.
She wanted to tell him that she was fine, but she couldn’t find her voice. There was something…wrong. Just as suddenly as she was sure of it, the feeling passed, and her mind cleared. With it came an aching pain in her head so sharp she hissed.
“Arielle!” Damien dropped to a knee before her.
“I’m okay.” She pushed herself up. “What happened?”
“You used too much magic.” Shira held up the spellbook. Ari lurched as if to grab it from her, but movement only made her nauseous, and she stopped halfway.
Shira watched her impassively. “What is this book, Ari?”
“I don’t know.” She pressed a hand to her head, trying to make the room stand still.
“Where did you get it?”
“I don’t know.” That one was a lie, but she felt as if she had no choice. As though telling Shira the truth would result in the book being taken away.
Damien rose to face his sister. “She needs to rest. You can ask your questions later.”
Shira looked reluctant, but in the end, she handed Damien the book. Her voice dropped to a whisper, and Ari strained to hear, but she could already feel herself fading again. The last thing she saw before her head hit the pillow was the color drain from Damien’s face.
CHAPTER 14
MIKIRA
MIKIRA DIDN’T SLEEPthe entire night.
Not only was the first race of the Illinir tomorrow, but something had gone wrong in enchanting the horse, and it wouldn’t be ready until the morning. Reid had refused to tell her what exactly it was, claiming that it didn’t matter.
She was gone before Ailene and Nelda woke, after making them promise the previous night that they wouldn’t come watch. They’d finally stopped peppering her with questions, but the distance that had opened between them was even worse. She’d told herself that she’d kept them away from all of this for their safety, but the more time she spent in this world, the more she started to think that she was only protecting herself.
By the time she reached the manor, her nerves had coiled tight in the hollow of her throat, and her hands sought her knives for comfort as she neared Damien’s suite. Her father had given them to her when Lochlyn died, suspecting they were enchanted, and she’d clung to them for security ever since, though she’d never seen a wisp of magic.
“I hope you have good news.” Damien’s voice drew her to a halt. A door just behind her had been left cracked open.
“That’s hardly a proper greeting,” responded another in saccharinetones. “What happened to ‘How are you, Hyle?’ or ‘Can I get you a drink, Hyle?’”
“Hyle,” Damien said quietly.
A beat of silence, and then, “Oh. I see. What happened?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” Damien replied. “Now tell me what you found.”
