My eyes finally pulled into focus as I lay there, the first light of day filtering through our tiny, blown glass window, making the ancient iron light fixture and plaster cracks that much more prominent.
“They are getting worse,” I whispered more to myself than to him, but I knew he would hear it, anyway. I knew he would understand. I needed him to.
I know. The tension in his voice was heavy, the worry over me that he tried so hard to conceal leaking through. Who was in the cloak this time?
I tensed at his question, knowing it was coming, and turned over in the bed, pulling his pillow into me like a teddy bear, silently thanking the stars it still smelled like him.
It was Wyn, I spoke into his mind, the relay of information bringing his confusion and frustration right back to me like a wave.
Wynifred? He was confused. I was, too.
Ever since we had come to this city, ever since we had been trapped in this dome three months ago, my sights had been … changing.
At first, it was nothing bad, just things shown from different angles. Visions altered into a different future that I knew was correct, like when we had first found Risha and the refugees hidden away in the city, when I healed Dramin. Even though they had changed, I knew they were correct.
Now, it was different. Now, they were confusing fragments that didn’t fit together, everything contradicting each other in cruel ways. I saw one thing, and then I saw something completely different. Sights kept changing, and everything I thought was real was now a broken and cruel contrivance.
It was as though I was only getting part of the information, like my receiver was broken. Just like that dumb television static I kept seeing. Who knew, maybe I was trying to predict a really good TV show.
One thing was perfectly clear: something was wrong. Though Ilyan and I had somehow moved into a silent agreement not to acknowledge it, we both knew it.
Did it look like Wyn? he asked, his usual solve-every-problem demeanor coming on strong, his voice having already adopted the heavy powerful-leader strain I loved so much.
I cringed, not really wanting to pull up a recall, not wanting to feel that fear again. Luckily, this one I already knew the answer to. The look in her eyes, the way she smiled, it was too close to Ryland, or the Ryland Cail had created, anyway.
“Not really.”
I could practically hear the gears turning in his head. I could even imagine him dragging his hand through his hair as he always did.
You know me too well.
I smiled in spite of myself. He was right; I did. But that was how it was supposed to be, after all … when you loved someone.
We could ask Sain…
Just like that, the smile was gone. Oh, yes, my oh-so-loving father with his oh-so-perfect sights would be the logical choice of someone to ask. But I didn’t want to. I didn’t even want to ask my brother. I didn’t want to hear either of them say to my face what I had heard whispered around the cathedral for the past few months. The whispers that I was sure Sain had started.
My sights were broken.
I couldn’t control my magic.
The thought ran through me like acid, and I growled in frustration, rolling off the bed with the full intention to get ready and join Ilyan in the reconnaissance mission he was preparing to lead, only to be met by a million aches and pains.
I grumbled audibly, sounding like an angry bear.
The sound made Ilyan chuckle, but I felt like I had been tossed around in a cement mixer for the last twelve days.
“How long was I asleep?” Please let it be more than two days. Please let it be more than two days.
Enough, mi lasko. He was sidestepping, and part of me didn’t care. I had already pulled the pitiful “thirty-six hours” answer out of his head.
That wasn’t nearly enough time.
I had been awake for two weeks, and if what Dramin had told me was correct, I would need at least three days to put my body back into the shape it needed to be. After all, it took time to heal broken bones and bruises from days of battles and raids. Those three days were very much needed, and thirty-six hours was nowhere near that.
Draks hardly slept as it was, but I really didn’t sleep.
I groaned louder, knowing there was nothing I could do. It wasn’t the first time the sights had woke me up, or even kept me from sleeping, for that matter.
“Maybe next time, then,” I muttered as I made my way to the long, battered dresser, ripples of dull aches and throbs running over my body.
You could just sleep now, Ilyan whispered, despite knowing the answer to that. You aren’t due to run a raid for the next few days.
I knew he had a point. Running through the city, facing waves of Edmund’s men, was definitely not what I needed right now. I knew what I needed, however.
“I want to see you.” It was only half a lie. I could already feel my heart beat faster, a tense knot of eager anticipation forming in my belly at the possibility of seeing him.