Page 83 of Shifter King
Dropping her gaze, Amelia shook her head. "But I am forbidden to drink wine."
"You will make an exception."
"It would be bad for me to do so soon after Dry Deep."
"Why?" Her brow creased, her voice taking on a dangerous timbre.
"It would make it hard for me to bear children."
"You are already infertile. I have told you, we will take care of that."
"No. I mean—" She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. What could possibly change this woman's mind? She tried to reach with her mind out but got instead a wave of rage and pained images, of desperation for her family and a willingness to do anything, of gut-wrenching loss and unyielding anger. Pausing, she tried to pull in her focus.
"What do you mean?" Zorna demanded. "Speak plainly, girl."
"I cannot drink the wine, but I have an alternative proposition."
"It had better be a good one because I am uninterested," Zorna said. "And when I am uninterested, people start dying."
A few soft murmurs rose within the assembly. Zorna held up her hand, shaking her head wearily. "Of course, not any of you unless you displease me. No. We'll start with your little cellmate. Someone made a mistake and gave you a cellmate, didn't they?"
Amelia shrugged, keeping her expression neutral. "I don't know if it was a mistake, but there was some child in there."
Zorna leaned back in her throne, smiling triumphantly. "He's been taken to the pit where he will live quite miserably for a few weeks more. But perhaps we bring him back here. Have him cut to pieces in front of you."
Amelia forced herself to shrug as dismissively as she could. "Do you really think that's the best use of a prophet?"
"It's a better use than what he has been."
"Well, if you can't control him any better." She cast a glance at one of the robed figures. The person pulled back, ducking their head out of sight. "You should reconsider your words."
"Your Majesty, please forgive me. I understand that you need my apology, and I am willing to apologize. I can be useful. I want to be useful, but I will choose the ways in which I am. You have Machat here who do not wish to prophesy. Get them out of the pit. Not just the boy. All of them. Any of them who have any form of prophetic ability even if they aren't Machat. Heal them sufficiently so that when I enter their minds I don't hear them whining about their wounds and distorting their visions. Then I will retrieve the prophecies for you. Whatever you ask for, I can find."
"Now you want to be useful?" Zorna scrunched her face at her, chuckling.
"You opened negotiations demanding I copulate with your son. If you knew anything about me, you would know that my relationship with my husband was hard fought and difficult. I only recently came around to the idea of being even with one man. I resent the implication that all I am good for is having children."
"Then you should not have agreed to be the Mother of the New Neyeb," she said dryly. "And why should I do anything you ask now? In ten years, I'll have a dozen little mindreading Bealorns, all under my tutelage."
"You must be planning on a few sets of twins."
"I am planning for multiple things."
Her chest tightened. This woman wasn't relenting. "Still, ten years is a long time. How much can happen within that? At least one Grey Season. And I've heard this is going to be a big one."
"The Abliatos will find a way to stop it. They always do."
"Even so, wouldn't you rather have an advantage over them?"
"I do. Many as it is." Zorna shook her head.
"You could have more. I'm a dream weaver and a mind healer. And you know as well as I that having a loyal mindreader on your side would give you a great advantage. Now I admit that I was not at my best when we spoke the last two times, but in my defense, I was…not expecting any of this. Please forgive me for my indiscretions."
"Hmmm." Zorna studied her. Her mood seemed to have calmed now, but something lurked within her.
Amelia tried to brush out again, but a spasming ache throbbed across her skull. She'd been doing too much mindreading, fighting off too many people. The fever pitch of the others rose to a deeper roar. Wincing, she pressed her hand to her temples until it stilled. What she wouldn't give for some of that mindreader tea or even the foul substance AaQar had made her to help her recover from Dry Deep.
"I suppose that we have time before a final decision must be made. I have a surgeon who will be returning soon from an expedition. When he arrives, if you are not compliant and have not satisfied me with your willingness to serve my people, I will order him to lobotomize you with manticore-cabiza venom. In addition to being excruciating, there is no true cure for it. Not even the mighty Abliatos with all their fine medicines and serums can actually counter its effects. So if you have not pleased me, I will have him lobotomize you with leucotome dipped in manticore-cabiza venom."
