Page 119 of A Crown of Tears and Treason
Five more scorched candles joined their brethren before we called it quits for the day, both leaving the session with headaches.
Mine persisted well into the evening and only got worse the more I stared at the last surviving candle. It was a gorgeous thing, pale yellow with dried flowers embedded on its sides.
Gorgeous and stubborn.
I sat on my bedroom floor cross-legged, staring at it with all my might. My legs shook from the strain. Not one single tendril of power appeared.
A flutter of movement resounded from the window.
I didn’t need to turn around. Ifeltit was Zandyr, sweeping inside for our nightly ritual. I didn’t move, but my heart did a somersault for good measure.
“What did that poor thing do to anger you so much?” Zandyr’s voice purred from behind.
“It won’t cooperate.” I sighed, looking at him over my shoulder. He was as enticing as ever, filling out his armor with all the grace and power he possessed. I shook my head. These weren’t the kind of thoughts I needed right before we spent another night together, innocent or not. “Can you light a candle?”
“No.” He took off the top of his leather armor with ease, as if we’d been undressing in front of each other all our lives. “My magic doesn’t deal in inanimate objects.”
My breath stuttered. If not objects, then…“Whatcanyou do? Besides healing yourself?”
Zandyr stood still. Very still. With a deep sigh, he outstretched his arm toward the window. Nothing happened for a few seconds, the stare between us stretching uncomfortably.
Then I heard it.
The flutter of wings. A lovely little blue owl flew straight into Zandyr’s hand, cuddling in his palm. Its big eyes looked around frantically, as if it didn’t quite know what was happening.
“Shh, it’s okay.” Zandyr trailed one finger down the fluffy feathers on its head.
It would’ve been cute and endearing, except for what it represented.
“You can control beings,” I said, breathless.
“Blood,” Zandyr corrected. “It’s always blood.”
“Ryker did the same thing at my wedding.” He’d frozen those guests with one raised hand.
Zandyr nodded and patted the owl’s head one last time. “Fly away. I feel a little lizard near the terrace, your chicks will eat well tonight.”
On cue, the owl spread its wings and got out of there as fast as it could flutter them, leaving the two of us alone in a stunned silence.
“It looks more impressive than it is,” Zandyr said, almost like an apology.
“Can you control any being?”
“Ones that aren’t protected by magic, yes. The smaller they are, the easier it is to control their movements. Or slow down their lungs. Heart.”
In three quick strides, he was next to me. With a tired sigh, he sat down on the floor, so we were face to face.
“It exhausts us to the point of fainting,” he went on. “Useless in battle, as far as I’m concerned. You can only slow down your attackers so much while trying to dodge their blows. The more beings, the less you can command them.”
I gulped. My mouth felt sewn shut.
“You can feel it when someone is using it on you,” he said, an urgent lilt to his voice. “And I wouldneveruse it on you.”
I shook my head.
“That’s not what concerns me.” Gods help me, but the idea of him controlling me with his powers hadn’t even slithered into my mind. “What you’re describing is how I felt when the snake attacked. Like someone commanded my movements. And the snake’s.”
Zandyr frowned.
