Shield of Fire (A Bringer and the Bane Novel) (29 page)

“Annihilated?” It was her turn to scowl. The thick energy pulsed, elevating her sensitivity to the thoughts and expectations in the room, and heightening her emotions. Her anger expanded by an illogical amount. She rubbed the spot on her shoulder where Icarus had speared her. “I can assure you, Lord Bagita, the Bane are very much alive and growing in numbers. I have the scars and the memories to prove it.”

Mutters rippled through the Council. Perhaps they finally understood the growing peril.

Fromme gave Ravyn a patronizing smile. “I see Lord Blackwell has swayed you to his way of thinking.”

“No, my lord. Hanging twelve feet off the ground in the clutches of a demon did that.”

The smile tightened on his round face as murmurs from the other Council members swelled. Fromme held up a hand. “We will convene privately and take this new information under advisement.”

Like a pile of dirt conveniently swept under a rug—that’s how Lord Bagita treated her.

“Are you putting me off?”

Snickers tittered from the left side of the table.

“Think well before you dismiss me, Lord Bagita. This may be your only chance to understand your peril.”

“Really?” Something in the way he looked at her made her wary. This was a man with secrets. “Well, Lady Ravyn, rest assured that the Council is not as ignorant as Blackwell would have you believe.”

A thin, rat-faced man sitting at the left side of the table glared at her. “What are you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand your question, sir.”

“What are you, girl?” He squinted as if to see her better. “A Redeemer, or perhaps a Tell?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

The man grunted. “Blackwell deems it necessary for us to meet you, yet you can’t answer the simplest question?”

The woman to the left of him laughed.

Pompous ass
, as Jade would say. A line of fire burned down Ravyn’s arms, taking her by surprise. She fisted her hands. No, this was not the time or place for her powers to flare. Energy danced around her, calling her, answering her need to defend herself. The hum running through her body nearly overwhelmed her.

“I’m a Bringer,” she bit out.

“Yes, yes, girl, we are all Bringers, but where do your talents lie?” he pressed.

Little by little, she wrestled her fire under control. Why now? It wasn’t possible for a Bane to be inside Illuma Grand. Was it? Desperation pulled at her. Rhys had said the Council was blind to the demon threat, but she hadn’t actually believed him. She’d thought there would be some acknowledgement that the Bane still existed beyond the walls of Illuma Grand and were actively stealing souls. There wasn’t. They’d turned a blind eye for their own selfish agendas. These people needed to understand the severity of the situation. The Council had to listen to Rhys. His group wasn’t just a band of misguided rebels.

“Can you heal people,” asked the rat-faced man.

“Or tell the future?” the woman added.

“Are you at all gifted in the art of battle?”

They bombarded her with questions, not giving her time to answer. Her control slipped. The fire pushed her to prove herself.

She shuddered against what she was about to do. Rhys would kill her. Slowly lowering her mental shields, she allowed the rat-faced man’s essence to pour into her. He crowded her spirit, taking up space inside her body. She adjusted to the oily feel of his aura as he slid against hers. Her awareness shied away, repelled by his self-centered presence and the way he consumed everything he touched, even the very space occupied by her soul.

She probed his life force, her own personality shifting to enfold him. Greed, lust, and bloated self-righteousness eddied around her. She
was
Deputy Master Byrnes.

“Perhaps you can help me discover the answer.” She glided forward and stopped in front of him. He stared, not breaking eye contact. “Deputy Master Byrnes.”

“Lord Blackwell has obviously instructed you on the members of the Council.” He looked at the pinched-faced woman, who sat to his left, and back to Ravyn. His body leaned, his shoulder nearly touching the woman’s. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

She could feel his obsession with the woman sitting next to him. Not his wife. He was a man of some importance and deemed himself more important than others did. He felt slighted in many areas of his life.

“You’re a leader but not followed. A lover but unloved.”

The woman gasped. The Deputy’s face purpled. “Blackwell’s lies.”

“Perhaps,” Ravyn said. She moved to stand in front of the woman beside him. As Lord Byrnes’ essence drained away, the female’s essence flowed in. Ravyn sifted through it. Desire for Byrnes swamped her. Desire but not love. It took all of Ravyn’s control not to vomit. She smiled at the woman. “
Tsk, tsk
, Lady Grimes, you’ve been a very bad girl.”

She slid her glance toward Deputy Master Byrnes. Lady Grimes stiffened and pointed at Ravyn. “She’s a Tell.” The woman’s glare burned into her. “And a rude one at that.”

Ravyn raised her eyebrows. “Am I?”

An insidious elation crept through her. Knowing the sins of people gave her a sense of power. Each bit of information she gleaned was like a link in a chain that bound them to her. She was in control. Heat spread across her shoulders like a fiery hug. Ravyn shook herself, recognizing her descent into the forbidden territory of greed. What was it about this room that made her want to dominate every member of the Council?

She moved to stand in front of the man to the left of Lady Grimes. Lord Grimes. Gentleness flowed over Ravyn. He was a kind man and loved his wife, much to the detriment of his happiness. Ravyn’s feet and legs began to ache as Lord Grimes’ essence slipped further inside. Pain traveled up her calves. She sensed his daily discomfort and placed her palms on top of his hands.

Lord Grimes convulsed at first touch but didn’t pull away. The desire to help him swept through her. She tapped her well of power and visualized the warmth traveling through her hands and into Lord Grimes’ body, mending tissue, strengthening bones, and burning away the sickness.

She sent light into him and silently recited the ancient words Rhys had used to heal her at the inn. The familiar breeze brushed against her as she asked the spirits to restore Lord Grimes to health. After several minutes, she drew back her energy and removed her hands.

Lord Grimes sighed. “She must be a Redeemer.” Whispers of amazement echoed around the chamber. “I have no more pain in my leg. None at all.” He smiled at her. “Even after healings they still usually pain me a bit.”

A heady superiority coursed through her as heat pulsed in the palms of her hands, wanting more, demanding to heal again. “Yes, maybe I’m a Redeemer.”

She stopped in front of the last man at the table. He’d tucked his chin-length black hair neatly behind his ears and sported a trimmed goatee. Except for the gold hoop dangling in his ear, he was dressed all in black. He appeared much younger than the other Council members, and stared at her with eyes the color of silver coins. His gaze unnerved her, as if he saw and could read her easily.

She opened herself to him, nervous about receiving his essence. Nothing flowed in. She searched, but found only a solid wall.

He watched her, a small smile tugging at his lips. This man was more than he pretended to be. A crack in his consciousness opened and a name drifted to her:
Sir Gregory James.

She realized he had fed the information to her. Her anger fumed. She controlled this meeting, not him. She pushed against his barrier but felt no give.

His expression turned wary.

“What do you think, Sir James? Am I a Tell or am I a Redeemer?”

“I have no idea, Lady Ravyn.” His gaze remained steady, his essence locked behind impenetrable barriers. “Perhaps you have extraordinary powers. You might even have had a run-in with the Bane.”

A few of the members snickered.

“Or maybe you are a girl who has no idea what she’s talking about,” he said.

Fire pooled in her hands. She squeezed her fingers together; knowing the urge to blast Sir Gregory James wasn’t rational. The indignation consuming her challenged her control. She returned a tight smile and stepped away from him. Her control slipped. They were all fools, weak and ignorant. The need to dominate the Council consumed her.

She inhaled deeply, clinging to the few threads of rational thought left. These people were not her enemies. Energy coursed through her as if she were facing the Bane. Something was very wrong but she didn’t know how to stop the consuming anger.

“Perhaps you are right, Sir James.” She hissed the sentence at him. He moved to stand but she turned away and forced her body to walk to the center of the room. She needed Rhys. Where was he? Always there when she didn’t want him, never around when she needed him. Even though she knew it wasn’t true, the thought tore through her.

“Are you all right, Lady Ravyn?” Sir Gregory said.

She opened her mouth but the words wouldn’t come. Her foot hovered above the circle on the floor, trying to resist the urge to step in the center. Her will weakened and each delicate thread to reality snapped. She stepped into the center.

Shocks of energy traveled up her legs and rippled through her torso. Her body quivered, and she was aware the Council members were on their feet, some shouting in alarm. Heat engulfed her, burning through every cell of her body. The power coiled and pushed against her skin with the need to expand and encompass. Her quivers gave way to shudders as she clung to her restraints, but the tethers of control slipped from her grasp.

Flames plumed around her like the blazing petals of a flower. She felt the heat but wasn’t burned. Screams erupted and people moved toward her. Imprisoned by her powers, she was helpless against their desire. She lifted her arm, trying to stop them from approaching, but two bolts of lightning shot from her hands, blasting Fromme Bagita’s portrait and catapulting everybody backward, including Ravyn.

She hit the floor and slid, stopping at the feet of Rhys, Luc, and Siban.

They don’t look very happy
, she thought, seconds before she passed out.

…

Rhys paced in front of Ravyn as she sat propped against the wall. He’d entered seconds before she’d been engulfed in flames The Council had departed the chamber in a hive of whispers and stares. He stopped and glared down at her. “What happened?”

“I already told you,” she said, rubbing her temples.

He stopped in front of her and placed a hand over her head against the wall. “Tell me again.”

“I couldn’t control my fire. There’s something about the room.”

“Why didn’t you call for help?”

“I tried but I couldn’t.”

“Even I’ve never erupted into flames.” He took a deep breath, trying to comprehend how things had gone so awry. “You must have done something.”

“No, nothing. It just happened. How many times do I have to say it?”

“Until I understand.”

“I was angry.” She shifted away from the wall. Luc took her arm and helped her stand. “It was like I was standing in the center of my well of power.” She rubbed her hands over her face.“I couldn’t control it.”

“I knew I should have been in there with you,” Rhys growled.

“And you’re lucky Bagita didn’t have you arrested for fire-balling his lovely portrait,” Luc added.

“Not helping, Le Daun.” Rhys kicked the wall. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle this. Now the Council knows we hold more than just information.”

“Good,” Ravyn snapped. “These people need a leader. Why not show them what we’re capable of. Let them decide who to follow?”

“Oh, so you’re suddenly the expert on what our people need? A month ago you were locked behind stone walls and iron bars. You know nothing about these people or what they need.”

He hardened his heart against the tears welling in her eyes. The sight of Ravyn erupting into flames had nearly brought him to his knees. He was angry and knew he was lashing out, but today’s meeting had given Bagita more than just the knowledge of Ravyn’s powers. He’d seen the way Fromme’s eyes had glittered with anticipation. He’d looked at Ravyn like a shiny new bauble, which equated to another pawn to position for his benefit. That’s why he hadn’t arrested all of them. Ravyn was too valuable. Rhys cursed himself for agreeing to this damn plan.

“It’s not her fault,” Luc said, drawing him out of his brooding.

Rhys turned on him. “You’re right. If I hadn’t been taken in by yours and Nattie’s pleas, this never would have happened. I knew she wasn’t ready and yet I allowed it. I blame myself and you.”

“I’m done talking about this,” Ravyn said. “You can blame me, blame yourself, blame the Council, but that won’t solve our problems. We came here for a reason. I for one don’t plan to tuck tail and run because of a little incident.”

She pushed past Siban and stomped up the steps.

He wanted to go after her and tell her how scared he’d been when the doors of the chamber door had blown open. But he didn’t. This was how it had to be. Maybe it was better if she hated him.