Page 38 of A Healer's Wrath

He muttered something as his eyes fluttered open. His head was now covered with more silver than black, and his joints resisted quick movement. Had I been gone so long? How had age crept up on him so?

My heart twisted every time I came home to find another hint of erosion wearing away at my parents, especially my father. He seemed to be aging more rapidly than most. I knew it was part of the natural cycle, but it still pained me to think of their life-threads shortening. I moved stray hair from his forehead and reached under his elbow.

As I helped him to his feet, the sounds of footfalls on gravel made me turn.

Four figures in silky blue robes approached.

Mages had visited before, but they’d never obscured their identity. This time, each robed figure wore a simple white mask that tied around the back of their head. There were no markings or features, only two eye holes and a thin slit where their lips hid.

The tallest of the Mages stepped forward and spoke without preamble or greeting. “Irina, it has been five years. It is time for you to join us.”

It wasn’t a question this time.

I stepped in front of my father, crossed my arms, and squared my shoulders with the Mage. “I belong here, with these people, with my people. I do not need any of you.”

The tall Mage cocked his head as if considering. “Perhaps you are right, but you do need our instruction. Today, you will learn the price for refusing our aid. I hope this will be the last time you need this particular education.”

Before I could think or speak, the Mage raised a palm, and my father wailed in pain. I whirled to watch in horror as he clutched his chest and tumbled to the ground. His eyes were wide.

I threw myself to the ground and thrust my hands out above him. Light raged from my palms as I poured every drop of my energy into saving him.

But it was too late.

My father’s heart had stilled.

I raised my head and released a primal scream as I gripped my father’s shoulders, shaking him, begging him to live.

He stared through lifeless eyes and did not stir.

A clatter lifted my gaze, and I saw that only one Mage remained beside me. The other three were now inside the house—with my mother.

I shoved past the Mage and bolted through the door.

The Mage at the door wrapped me in his thick arms and held me tight against his chest, forcing me to watch what unfolded before me. My mother’s eyes snapped up to meet mine as magic leaped from the hands of the other two Mages, engulfing her in writhing blue flame.

The stench of scorched flesh filled the cottage as Mother’s cries ebbed and died.

The Mage restraining me released his grip and stepped back. With a wave of his hand, the flames vanished, leaving a charred, smoking husk where Mother once stood. Without a word, the robed figures nodded to one another and vanished.

I fell to my mother’s side and sobbed.

Chapter twenty-one

Irina

Hours later, when my tears had dried and the fires of my anger were stoked, I appeared with a blinding flash in the royal bedchamber. Melric would destroy the world for me. He would hunt those Mages down and—

My head swiveled before landing on the prone form of the King.

He lay unmoving on the bed. The sheets beneath him were drenched in blood. On the floor at the bed’s foot, a summoning circle was painted. The symbol had been traced using the King’s own blood and blazed to life as I stared into it, removing any doubt who had been responsible for the King’s murder.

I threw my head back and howled in rage.

Guards poured into the chamber.

Alarms rang throughout the Palace.

Bells tolled throughout the capital.