I flicked my head up to observe them. They both had a red gem on either cuff that lit up when he locked them. A wave of emptiness washed over me.
My magic…I didn’t know how, but…it wasgone.
Time went slowly as all our people were put in the magic-erasing cuffs. Panic washed over every Mage’s expression when they realized what this contraption did.
I had never felt fear like this. Without our ability to protect ourselves, there was virtually no chance of us escaping. What was Igon thinking?
And where was Mother?
I was staring at Fabel’s family, thankfully all alive, when Silas knelt before me. I hesitantly lifted my eyes to meet his.
“Where is your leader?” he asked coldly.
I analyzed his face. He looked so…different. His raven-colored waves were shorter than when I last saw him. The hair that once fell at his jawline was now trimmed at his neckline and sides, the top longer and lying loosely. Neatly kept stubble surrounded his lips, and a long scar trailed along the top of his left cheekbone and almost reached his mouth.
And his neck…only a small portion of it was visible due to his armor, but I could tell it was heavily inked.
He was beautiful. But there was no kindness in his eyes.
Before I could answer, a soldier flung Vicsin to the ground beside us.
“Father!” I heard Elowen cry. My eyes shot to her, and another soldier was gripping her arms, keeping her from running to her father's side. I didn’t even notice how close by she was. Vicsin coughed up blood.
“Their elected official,” the soldier stated. He appeared at least two decades older than Silas, with wrinkles creasing his forehead and grey hair speckled throughout his beard.
Silas held my gaze for one more moment before he stood back up, stepped over to Vicsin, and studied him with distaste. “Intel claimed their leader was an old man.”
“No, I-I am their leader,” Vicsin mumbled, blood dripping from his mouth.
He was trying to save Igon.
“What is your name?” Silas demanded.
Vicsin looked at him with hatred in his eyes. “Vicsin Astair.”
Silas cocked his head to the side. “I don’t enjoy being lied to, Vicsin,” he replied with malice in his smooth voice. Part of me couldn’t help but feel like that statement was also aimed at me. “Tell me where he is, and I’ll consider sparing you.”
Elowen was sobbing, that same soldier keeping her from helping him. I couldn’t see much of the man’s face, but his expression looked almost…sympathetic. “Please, please don’t hurt him!” she cried. Silas glanced at her, his dark expression not changing.
“Spare me to be killed with the rest in Otacia?” Viscin spat.
Silas clicked his tongue, returned his glare back to Vicsin, and cocked his head towards Elowen. “Maybe she will make you listen to reason?” He lifted his hand, and the soldier holding her paused before bringing her forward. “Put her on her knees,” Silas ordered, and the soldier obeyed. My whole body was trembling, streams of tears pouring down my cheeks.
Not Elowen … not sweet Elowen.
Silas unsheathed his sword and stalked towards her. He glided the blade against her neck as she wept.
“Don’t touch her,” Vicsin snarled. My attention went to Merrick, who, to no prevail, grunted as he strained against the soldier detaining him.
“If you can’t tell me what I need, then I’m afraid I’ll have no choice.” Silas’ voice was deeper than when I last saw him, or maybe it was the lack of empathy that made him sound different. That kind man I fell in love with…he wasn’t present. Not at all.
Vicsin looked to Elowen in despair. “H-he passed. I was put in charge,” he lied.
Silas clicked his tongue again, still looking at Elowen while tightening his grip on the sword.
He’s going to kill her.
“He must be in the tower!” I blurted out. Silas paused, then bent his head towards me. “Please, please don’t hurt them,” my voice cracked.
