His words angered me. “Potential? Is that what you call using your dragons to slaughter defenseless commoners?”
Thorkel made a dismissive gesture. “The dragons of Carthesia are, shall we say, a little temperamental. They are the descendants of those brave enough to challenge their elders, and for that they were exiled. If they have a bit of anger to work out…”
I gaped. “So you just let them run rampant? I grew up with those people! My foster mother, my old friends, children—you killed them without a single thought, and you don’t regret their deaths at all.”
Calculated repentance swept across his face. “You are right. Bitterness has clouded my judgment. That is why I need you, Adara, by my side.”
The smallest movement behind Thorkel caught my eye: Merram’s chest. If I kept Thorkel talking, Merram would recover to help me.
“You are so like your mother,” Thorkel murmured. He closed the distance between us, his hand held high as if he could caress my cheek from afar. “I’ve followed your progress at the Kyer—your power is breathtaking. I cannot wait to see what you will achieve with my guidance.”
The words escaped before I could stop them. “I don’t want your guidance.”
His smile tightened. “You will.”
The ground trembled so violently I fell to my knees. “What are you doing?”
“I love earth spells,” he said. “Difficult to do in the desert, you know, with the shifting sands. But here?”
The ground trembled again. The gems on his hands glittered, and spikes rose from the floor and surrounded me.
“A cage,” I said. To my shock, I felt amused. “You think that, after all you’ve done, I’ll join you?”
“Many daughters are not happy with their fathers,” he said. “Fortunately, I will settle for obedience and respect.”
I did a quick check—Merram still breathed, but his eyes stayed closed. I put a hand on an earthen spike. Shamino’s ring tapped against it. How many gemstones were in that single ring? If I—
“Do not ignore me!” Thorkel suddenly erupted. Quick strides brought him to my cage. “I am not a monster, Adara. Carthesia was a seething mass of chaos, locked in a cycle of self-destruction. I united them, I gave them purpose, I saved the dragons from insanity in the desert.”
“Gave them the purpose of killing us,” I said. Cautiously I slipped my Gift into the rock… crystals. “Drageria doesn’t need saving.”
“I’m offering you the world,” Thorkel hissed. “With your Gift and my brilliance, we will be unstoppable.”
The walls aren’t all the same, Orrik had told me on my very first day at the Kyer. The crystals in the rock, small and almost unnoticeable, added variety to the rooms and corridors. Even beauty, if you looked.
“I don’t want a world of fear,” I said quietly. “And I refuse to forget the dead.”
“Then be the silk that sheathes my blade,” Thorkel said. He reached through the spikes to caress my cheek. I recoiled, but I couldn’t get away. “Krysta didn’t save me, but you can. Stay at my side, soft and kind.”
My skin crawled with his every touch. The rings glittered on his fingers.
Merram isn’t going to rescue me.
“The problem with you, Father, is that your thinking is too limited.”
He chuckled. “Tell me, Adara, what have I overlooked?”
“You’re a noble.” I attempted a smile. Slowly, I slid Shamino’s dagger from my hip. “You grew up with magic, and that has narrowed your perspective.”
Thorkel’s fingers left my cheek and ran along my jaw. His grin turned my stomach. Of course he’d twist my words.
“I, on the other hand, grew up without magic,” I continued. “I see possibilities you do not.”
I turned my head.
I kissed his fingertip.
I cut off his hand.
It was easier than hacking off a dragon’s wing. Thorkel screamed and bent over the spurting stump. I grabbed a spike with my ringed hand. My Gift filled the gems, and I pushed it out all at once, a single beam filling a thread of crystal inside the spike. Rock exploded outward and punctured Thorkel in a dozen places.
Never assume you’ve defeated the enemy. Always be on the defensive. I raised a shield and began to strengthen it against fire, lightning—everything.
Thorkel laughed as he knotted a sleeve over the stump. Blood soaked it instantly and dripped. He pushed his good hand to the floor. “You have much to learn. Sadly, you’ll never reach your full potential.”
The cavern began to shudder and cracks spidered across the floor. Bits of rock fell from the ceiling. I expanded my shield to cover me from above just in time to block a rock the size of my head. I formed a similar shield over Merram’s body. “What are you doing? You’ll kill us both!”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Thorkel said. “I do know my dragons will dig me out while yours, well, they’re mostly dead.”
I threw a fireball—flames flowed over an invisible shield. I tried another spell, and another, but no good. The earthquake rumbled on.
I have to stop that spell. I knelt and pressed my hands to the floor. Zoland had never taught me earth spells—he’d always assumed I’d fight in Carthesia’s desert. I sent my Gift far, using it as another sense, and prayed I’d find some inspiration.
There. That’s Thorkel’s Gift. His magic sought tiny weaknesses in the rock, expanding them. That was how he created the earthquake. I tried shoving his magic away, but I didn’t understand the spell enough to be effective. Come on, think! Zoland would say to try a new strategy—I’m good at fire. How can I use heat?
Heat.
As if from a dream, I heard Sylvia on my first day of class: the dragons chose these four mountains for their hot springs. The Kyer’s heart was heat. If I could—
A crack opened under me, thrusting half the ground upward. I lost brief control of the shields— a rock struck the same arm that Jerroth had hit earlier. Pain flashed, followed by… nothing. I couldn’t
