Page 131 of Vicious Is My Throne

“That’s what we need to figure out. I spotted them yesterday, but they were small enough I thought they were a reaction to the blight, or scar tissue from your previous burns. These are the size of an egg.”

“An apple,” Tavion corrected, leaning closer. “Like you’ve got two fucking apples attached to your shoulders.”

Zor tried to turn his head to see. “What the fuck are they, Raz? They itch like the fucking blazes, all the way to my bones. Like deep. Really deep.”

“Hold still. I’m looking,” Rax growled, his magic coating Zor’s back with a blue glow. “I’m not detecting any foreign substance. I don’t think this is related to the blight. Or Corvus.” Our gazes met and I should have been relieved, but what I saw in his eyes—besides complete confusion—was worry.

“Who healed you before you came here? Cosimo or one of the healers at the Keep?”

“The Keep’s healers. Coz was too burned to help anyone, least of all me. But I felt fine the next day. Still healing when I left Blackcastle, but no worse than usual.” He winced when he met my narrowed gaze. “Okay, I wasn’t done healing at all and knew better than to try and ghost out of there, but I wasn’t about to let the Oracle get her hands on the pendant.”

“Could this be from that? Flying when he hadn’t healed all the way?”

“Worrywart,” Zor grumbled.

“Reckless idiot,” I muttered.

“No.” Raz tipped his head, studying the bumps. “Using magic to move would have aggravated the original injuries, causing bleeding and possibly internal injuries. Not this.”

He poked at one of the bumps and Zor grit his teeth. “Stop it. That makes the itching worse.”

“Where were you when the wall fell?” Tristan asked slowly. “How close?” Zor bent forward, and the minute he did, those things poked out like spears, drawing his tan skin so tight I wondered if they’d shred straight through.

“Just beyond the forest. There was nothing between us and the magic except a stone wall. Half of which ended up on me when it collapsed.” He touched his forehead where a faint pink line still showed. “Courtesy of one of the rocks. I pinned Finnian and Kael beneath me. They don’t have magic,” he explained wryly. “I figured I’d weather the storm better than either of them. Besides…”

He straightened, tucking the sheets around his hips, and winked. “Since I’d survived the fall of the first wall, I figured the second one would be a piece of cake.”

“What are you thinking, Tristan?” I asked softly as his hand curled around my arm, his eyes never leaving Zor’s back. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Nothing that’s remotely possible.”

55

ZORANDER

Icould barely think around this infernal itching, heat curling around me like I was trapped in a blacksmith’s forge.

I wasn’t kidding—this was the worst thing I’d ever gone through, besides dying, which fortunately I didn’t remember, and when I woke up, I was as good as new. This went deeper, like the sensation went further than flesh and blood and bone, reaching straight to my very soul.

Of course, if I said that out loud, everyone would get more freaked out than they already were. And what in the fuck were these things sticking out of my back? They felt bigger than apples, truth be told, like two heavy weights on my shoulders.

“You think this was caused by the ward falling? There was no wave, not like last time. Only that infernal burning dust. Three times now I’ve been caught in one of Anaria’s magical resurgences. First the day the armies fell, then when she dropped the wall between Solarys, and yesterday. And I feel perfectly fine.”

Anaria went even paler. “I kept my shield around the rest of us that day in Solarys. And yesterday, whatever magic was released when the wall fell, I protected everyone from that as well.”

She swallowed hard. “Three times, Zor? Are you sure?”

“Well, fuck. When you put it like that, you make it sound like I have something to worry about. But I feel good. Better than I have since before Cosimo dragged me back in time. Get rid of this itching, Raziel, and I’ll be ready for travel.”

“We aren’t going anywhere.” Raz pulled his hands away, and when his magic faded, I doubled over. Not in pain. Not exactly. More like a pulling, tearing pressure, compounded by this cursed itching. “Not until we know what’s wrong with you.”

Tristan pulled Anaria over to the window, where they tipped their heads together, whispering.

“I can travel,” I insisted, tearing my eyes away from the two of them. “Whatever this fuckery is can’t be any worse than Reapers or being burned alive by the blight or any of the other shite that we’ve gone through. The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”

I was trying to ignore the fact magic was spilling out of me unchecked, ignoring my demand to settle, and gods, this room was so hot I was burning up. “While you’re over there, can you close those blinds? This sun is killing me.”

With an apologetic sigh, Anaria tugged them together, cloaking the room in shadow once more, and I sighed in relief.

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