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Reaching Retribution(31)

By:Kaitlyn Hoyt


When I hear Tom mention that he’ll come back later, I tear my eyes away from Colton. I need something to distract myself. I grab the wet towel from the bed and hang it on the towel rack in the bathroom. “Ryanne,” Colton calls. I start to walk out of the bathroom, but the room starts to spin around me. Grabbing onto the edge of the doorway, I try to keep myself upright. I gasp as the air is pulled from my lungs. “Ryanne, what’s wrong?” Colton asks as he rushes toward me. I gasp as the air is pulled from my lungs.

My body starts to shake. I fall to my knees. “He’s…He’s p-p-ulling me b…ack again.” I manage to get out. I try to move, but my whole body begins violently shaking and I fall forward into Colton’s arms. He picks me up and carries me across the room. I feel myself being placed on the bed, but I’m not longer in the bedroom anymore. I’m drifting between two places.

I’m being pulled in so many different directions, and everything spins around me. It feels like I’m thrown around the inside of a tornado. The motion is disorienting and makes me feel sick. I don’t know where I’m going to be spit out, but I know that Dravin is definitely involved. Instead of gently waking up in a new environment, I’m thrown down in the middle of a cell again. I hit the hard cement floor and roll into the wall. My body instantly aches when I come to a stop. Grimacing, I move onto my back and try to sit up.

“That could have been much smoother,” I mumble when I sit up and look around the room. I immediately tense when I spot Dravin in the corner.

“Yes, it could have been,” he says.

“What do you want, Dravin?” I ask him as I push myself up. His tall frame is leaning against the door with his arms crossed against his chest, looking too smug for his own good. Magic? I let out a relieved breath when I feel the familiar tingle of my magic in the air around me. Does Dravin know that I can use my magic here?

“You know what I want, Ryanne. I need your magic.”

“You want my magic. You don’t need it,” I correct him.

“Still as verbal as ever, I see,” he says as he pushes away from the door and walks toward me. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that it would go much better for you if you would cooperate.”

“I’m not really a stickler for listening. I’m kind of a rebel when it comes to that. I like to do my own thing. Being predictable is lame,” I tell him. “Maybe you should make a note of that.” I throw a shield around me as I recognize the look of concentration on Dravin’s face. I smile as his concentration turns to confusion. “You’re going to have to do more than that if you want to get my magic.”

“How is that possible?” he asks me.

“You’re not the only one getting stronger,” I say as I take a step toward him. “Now, I would suggest telling me how to get back because I’m starting to get mad.” I call some magic to me. Not enough to do any damage, but enough to let Dravin know that I can use it here.

His eyes widen, but he doesn’t say anything. “Interesting,” he says as he walks in a slow circle around me. “Do you know why I became a Gadramick?” he asks me, changing the subject.

“Because you’re too cool to be nice?” I guess. Dravin stops in front of me.

“My parents were mages,” he starts. I mumble a Duh. Dravin glares at me, but continues, “They preached about how mages should work with humans. We should be equal. No one should be more powerful than another. We’re supposed to work together. All bullshit, I tell you.”

“What happened to them?”

“You want to know what happened to them?”

“Yes, that’s kind of why I asked the question.”

“They were murdered right in front of me by humans when I was five years old. Humans murdered mages because they were too weak to fight back. They had powers and could have easily overpowered their attackers, but did they fight back? No, because they thought humans and mages were equals.”

“We should be equals, Dravin. Just because a few people...”

“You don’t get it at all. We’re stronger and smarter than they are. We’re all around better people. We have powers for a reason. We’re supposed to be rulers. They need to know we won’t tolerate their actions. We won’t tolerate their insolence and stupidity.”

“Ok, let me get this straight,” I say as I step toward him. “Because your parents were murdered by humans you think that all mages should rule over humans?”

“That’s what I just said.”

“You murdered people. Does that mean that the family members of those you’ve killed should rule over you?”