Twisting Every Way

Chapter 11

Slamming the door shut behind her, she drew the heavy iron bolt across the doors. Still trembling, heart pounding, she turned then gasped. At the foot of the dais, Gabek-Fen and Azo crouched. The Kings were mumbling and tracing symbols on the stone. The Shadow slouched between them, white as snow and trembling violently. Symbols tattooed in searing light on his bare chest, arms, and face oozed a clear fluid. The Kings dipped their fingers in the pool around him, drawing symbols with it on the floor. At their touch, the clear ooze shimmered and turned black. Completely engrossed in their work, neither of the Kings noticed Emya's arrival.

With great effort, the Shadow raised his head. His eyes, sunken in their sockets, filled with pain and fear. His colorless lips pleaded silently. Turned to stone, Emya looked on in horror.

After several agonizing minutes, the Kings finished drawing the symbols and placed their hands in the liquid pooling around the Shadow, absorbing it. The Shadow screamed a cry of such intense agony that it stirred Emya's most raw instincts and woke something inside her—something so terrified that it thrashed and roared to be let loose, to take its vengeance.

When the pool dried up the symbols disappeared. The Kings stood up, ignoring the Shadow, who fell onto his back, unmoving.

"He won't die," Azo said, seeing Emya's horrified expression. "His magic keeps him alive as long as he is not mortally wounded. As does yours."

"What did you do to him?" her voice barely louder than a breath. As the ritual ended, the feelings of horror and terror began to fade within her and whatever had been awoken inside her settled back into her subconscious. She did not have time to analyze it, but instinctively knew that it was different than anything she'd ever felt.

"We took his magic," Gabek-Fen said gruffly, as he did when he thought she was asking too many personal questions.

"Fen," Azo said warningly. He turned to Emya with a placating expression. "We wanted to wait to show you until you had developed your skills more. That way you would have understood. Now, I suppose we must explain ourselves."

He picked up something off the floor beside the shadow. It was the object of power and it had turned onyx black.

"As I said before, this object will draw power from you and, if you have the strength, direct it for you. That property has other uses as well, this one here." He kicked the Shadow hard in the ribs. He whimpered, too weak to drag himself away. "He was a very powerful natural mage, and he used his power to destroy other mages. We drain him of his power and direct it to ourselves. He is only left with enough to live on and nothing more until his powers regenerate. Unfortunately, magic isn't meant to be taken from a person like him. Even when using an object such as this, much of it is lost, drained into the world. We split what we are able to get between ourselves. It is enough to allow us modest power."

Their power might have been modest but their egos sure weren't. She'd never imagined they hadn't been born with magic as she had. Now she knew what purpose the Shadow served. A purpose dark and dreadful. She knew why he asked her if she would leave. Why hadn't he told her what the Kings were doing to him in order to make her leave? Was he afraid she would try to take his magic too? This was why they wanted her. This was why they took her in, nurtured and trained her, to take his place, to have two sources of power.

Perhaps not, a small, desperate voice said within her, perhaps the Shadow was enough. Perhaps they would keep her as they said, their student, and one day their equal. She could do much more for them as an ally than a prisoner.

"How is your progress with the village?" Azo asked, changing the subject. He sat down on his throne, a teacher evaluating his student. Emya couldn't keep her gaze from the Shadow, pale and trembling, closer to death than she'd ever seen him.