"Is she-" He halted. "Of course. Naelin, please continue to practice. A light touch, this time. Think small thoughts."
"I'm not summoning any spirits alone."
Beside the fireplace, the wolf Bayn stretched, as if to deliberately remind them of his presence. Ven was again struck by how much the wolf understood what went on around them. "Bayn will bite anything you can't handle and howl if there's anything he can't handle. You'll be perfectly safe."
"Famous last words."
"Trust me. Or if you don't trust me, trust yourself. That's the piece you're missing. You still don't trust yourself." He crossed to her and put his hands on her shoulders, as if he could convince her through his intensity.
"I'm dangerous."
"Yes, you are-but to them too. Trust that to keep you safe." He could tell from her mulish expression that he wasn't getting through to her. She didn't see herself the way he saw her: strong, in every way that mattered. He'd never encountered anyone like her, someone who gave off her own kind of brilliant light, someone who made him want to be better and fight harder. But he couldn't stay and argue with her, not when Queen Daleina had summoned him. He shot a look at the wolf, and the wolf flared his nostrils as if in agreement. It wasn't a good sign when an animal understood him better than his trainee. Ven leveled a finger at Naelin. "We'll continue this later."
He then strode out of Fara's chambers. He knew the way, but the courtier insisted on scrambling after him, trying to fulfill his obligation of leading the champion, even though Ven outpaced him and was down the twisting stairs while the courtier still puffed behind him.
He tried not to think about why Daleina could need him. If she was having a blackout, she wouldn't have been able to summon him. Plus the spirits would be acting murderous. The air spirit had been irritated, but not worse than that, and he knew there were fire spirits flitting from lantern to lantern as if nothing was wrong. Maybe other symptoms had begun to manifest? But then she'd call for Hamon, not for him. She must want to talk about her security. He'd handed much of the responsibility over to the palace guards, but he knew Daleina felt most comfortable with him in charge.
Nodding at Captain Alet and a second guard outside the Sunrise Room, he strode inside. She wasn't on the throne. Instantly, his hand went to his sword hilt and he scanned the room, checking for threats. He saw her a moment later, in front of a mural, staring at it.
"Leave us, and close the doors," she ordered.
The guards obeyed. He heard the solid doors clank shut and noticed the room was devoid of spirits, as near as he could tell-and he considered himself to have solid instincts when it came to spirits. He might not have the power to sense them, but he was aware of the twitch of air, the vibration in the earth, and the shuddering of a flame that came with them. He and Daleina were alone.
"Do you hate me for Queen Fara's death?" Daleina asked.
The question hit like an arrow from an unseen archer. "You are my queen, and I could not hate you."
"Nice answer, but you must blame me."
He couldn't imagine where this was coming from, or why she wanted to discuss it now. "Of course I blame you. And I blame myself. But mostly I blame Fara, and the spirit who corrupted her." He corrected himself: "The spirit she allowed to corrupt her." Fara had never been an innocent in what happened. She may have been tempted, but she was the one who chose to taste that temptation. "Why are we talking about this?"
"Because of Hamon's mother." Daleina turned from the mural to face him, and he was relieved to see she looked fine. No trace of illness. Some shadows under her eyes from lack of sleep. She needed to eat more. He made a mental note to tell her sister to bake her some sweets.
"All right. I'll bite. Are you going to explain what you mean by that, or simply let that cryptic statement hang in the air? Granted, the cryptic statement is more regal, but I'm the only one here to impress."
Her mouth quirked into a smile. "Hamon's mother has determined that my case of False Death is not natural. I was poisoned."
He felt himself go very still, every muscle tense, the way he felt before an attack. He was aware of the taste of the air, the stillness and silence in the room, the warmth of sun on the amber floor, the sound of his breathing and hers. "Hamon has confirmed this?"
"He believes her, and that means I do too. It explains the early onset and the lack of other symptoms. But there's more: his mother believes she can manufacture a cure, if we can find a sample of the original poison. It's too diluted in my blood right now."