The more she got to know Drake, the closer she got to him, the worse her vision hurt. Why would he just stand there and watch her without trying to help? Was all his selfless nobility some kind of act? Or was it something else? Maybe he was looking at her with pride because she was doing something worthy of it. Would she be willing to burn alive if it was for a good cause? If it saved the life of another? She wanted to believe she would, but in truth, she knew she was too much of a coward. Maybe she could accept some other fate if it was to save the life of another, but not that one. She’d feared it for too long. Burning alive was her worst nightmare. “I don’t want to use fire,” she told Gilda in a voice filled with shame. “Not ever.”
Gilda nodded in grim acceptance. “Then you should stay here and serve us as the Gerai do.”
“She is not a Gerai,” said Drake through clenched teeth. “She is far more than that and you know it.”
Gilda turned her black gaze on Drake. As lovely as she was, there was something frightening about her—some almost alien quality that demanded respect and obedience. “What I know is that I do not want to hang your sword in the Hall of the Fallen. I also know that if you take this damaged child into battle with you, that I will be doing just that.”
“It’s not your decision,” said Drake.
“No? I could kill her right now and be done with it. I care nothing for her and I would happily see her die in your stead.”
Helen didn’t doubt for one second that Gilda was telling the truth.
Drake’s hand went to his sword and Angus set Gilda aside and came to his feet in a movement so fast it was hard to believe it had happened. “Back off, son. Don’t make me hurt you.”
Drake’s jaw clenched, but he released his sword and took a deep breath. Helen could feel tension vibrating in his body, feel it humming between them. That control had cost him much effort. “Don’t talk like that, Gilda. You know we need her. I need her.”
Gilda had regained her feet, but was leaning against the carved boulder for support. “We need her to give the unbound Theronai hope, and to ease your pain, but that is all. Keep her for yourself. Use her as you will, but do not risk your life to her incompetence.”
“Use me?” asked Helen, unwilling to stay silent when they were talking about her like this. “No one is going to use me or keep me. For heaven’s sake, you make it sound like I’m some kind of slave.”
Drake gave her a hard stare. “You’re no one’s slave, Helen. Don’t listen to her.”
“Who else should she listen to if not me? There are no other female Theronai around.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re right,” Drake insisted.
Gilda sighed. “I understand the kind of feelings you have for Helen, but Logan has seen inside her mind and there is no hope for her. She is damaged. She will never be what you want her to be.”
Helen wasn’t sure what shocked her more, the fact that Logan had been able to pull something like that from her mind, or that he might be right.
“You haven’t even given her the benefit of the doubt, but you’re willing to believe a Sanguinar? Do you even know what he did to her?” demanded Drake.
Gilda glanced at Helen, who was totally lost. She knew Logan had walked around in her memories and that he’d taken some of her blood, but the way Drake said it, it sounded as if he’d violated her civil rights or something.
A pressure filled her ears, and the sounds of the night—the crickets singing and the wind through the trees—all disappeared. Helen rubbed her ears and tried to yawn to make them pop. A moment later the feeling was gone, but she’d missed whatever Gilda had said.
Whatever it was, it infuriated Drake. His face darkened with anger and his fingers dug into her hip. “Is Logan still here? I’d like to have . . . words with him.”
“You should be more worried about what your lady is going to do and less about what Logan is doing.”
“The Sanguinar are up to something,” said Logan.
Gilda waved her hand in a weary gesture. “The Sanguinar are always up to something. It is their nature.”
Angus pulled Gilda to his side. “And it is my nature to make you rest. You’ve given the girl food for thought. Give her time to digest it.”
Digest it? More like choke it down and pray it didn’t make her sick. “I promised I’d help Drake find Kevin’s sword,” said Helen. “I won’t go back on my word.”
“Foolish child,” muttered Gilda. “At least speak to Sibyl before you try something so foolish.”
“I’ve already asked for an audience with her,” said Drake.
Gilda’s black eyes narrowed. “Will she receive you?”
“I don’t know yet. Cain said he’d tell me in the morning if she will see Helen.”
“Sibyl will see her. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Thank you, my lady,” said Drake, bowing his head formally.
“Don’t thank me until after Helen has spoken with Sibyl,” said Gilda.
“That’s enough of that.” Angus picked Gilda up into his arms. “It’s bed for you, woman.”
Helen watched them go, feeling her world spinning out of control under her feet. There was so much she didn’t understand. Part of that was how Gilda could be a fierce, fire-breathing warrior one minute and cuddling in Angus’s arms the next. It seemed totally out of character somehow.
“You need to rest, too,” said Drake.