Heirs of Prophecy - Lisa Smedman [125]
"I'm going to release your jaw," he said, "but no tricks-and no spellcasting. Utter one word, and you're a dead woman. Understand?"
He laughed at Larajin as she lay frozen on the ground, perhaps savoring her anguish at being unable even to nod. His fingers moved in a spiderlike dance across her jaw. Suddenly able to open her mouth, Larajin spoke the only words that wouldn't cause her immediate doom.
' "Drakkar, please," she whispered. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know."
"Of course you will." With that brief comment, he forced open her mouth, and jammed the thorn into her tongue.
Grimacing at the bitter taste, Larajin tried to spit the thorn from her mouth, but instead it wormed its way ever deeper into her tongue. Drakkar stared down at her, waiting for whatever foul magic he'd just worked on her to take effect.
She glared up at him. Drakkar had blasted Leifander's mind, had bound Tal in silver knowing it was poisonous to him, and now was about to subject her to some equally foul magic, then kill her. She strained her eyes, glancing at Leifander's drooling face, at Tal's struggling form. Two brothers whom she'd do anything to be able to save- even sacrifice herself, so strong was her love for them…
… and Larajin realized the spell the goddesses wanted her to cast. It was the most powerful one in their arsenal-the one that had already turned Maalthiir into a lovesick fool. All Larajin had to do was get Drakkar to lower his lips to hers.
The thorn wriggled deeper into her tongue. Then, all at once, the pain of it disappeared. Drakkar, as if
sensing his magic had come to fruition, straightened.
"Now then," he wheezed. "What were you doing at the tower in the forest? What did you see and hear?"
"I saw you meeting with… the drow," she answered, keeping her voice deliberately faint and weak. "You were… talking about… the plan to…"
Drakkar leaned closer. "To what?"
Larajin whispered. "I heard you say…"
As Drakkar cocked his head, Larajin offered up one last, silent prayer to Sune and Hanali Celanil. As she completed it, magical energy flowed through her, causing her entire body to flush a deep red and the floral scent to rush from her pores. For one brief instant, the paralysis left her-but that instant was enough. Jerking her head upward, she kissed Drakkar full on the lips. Then her body stiffened and became rigid once more.
The wizard staggered back, angrily wiping the back of his hand against his lips. His face twisted in an angry sneer, and he raised his staff, clearly about to discharge the full force of its magical energies upon her-but a heartbeat later, his expression slowly began to change. The sneer softened, then left his face entirely. His eyes widened, and his lips parted in a soft smile.
"Larajin," he sighed.
Larajin closed her eyes, breathing a sigh of thanks to her goddesses. She gave Drakkar an imploring look.
"Free me?"
"Of course, Larajin, dear. Of course." With a wave of one dark hand, he released her.
Larajin sat up and immediately kneeled over Tal, who was still struggling against his bonds, albeit feebly. He seemed too weak to speak or even to acknowledge Larajin as she whispered encouragement to him and stroked his brow. Out of the corner of her eye, Larajin saw a dark glint in Drakkar's eyes. She instantly understood the look for what it was.
"You needn't be jealous," she told the wizard. "He's only a… my brother." She blinked. Why had she said
that? She'd intended to say that Tal was a friend, yet something had compelled her to blurt out the truth instead.
The thorn. Like the one that had pierced her foot earlier that evening, it had vanished, but its magic was still strong.
Drakkar's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "This werewolf is your brother? Who is he?"
Finding herself unable to lie, Larajin let the truth tumble out. "He's the youngest son of the Uskevren household, Talbot."
"How is he the brother of a serving girl?"
"His father Thamalon had a-dalliance-with my mother. Tal is my half-brother."
"Ah." The explanation