Edge of Darkness ~ A Darkness & Light Novel Book Three by K. L. Schwengel Page B

through him like a bad meal. Dain took a cautious step forward as Bolin puffed out another breath and sank back against the parapet. He stared at a spot on the ground as he dissected the incident with forced detachment.
    "Inside," Dain said quietly, wrapping his fingers around Bolin's elbow.
    Bolin nodded and allowed the Emperor to guide him back toward the barracks. He didn't miss the uneasy glances awarded him by the guards, or the faint glow still surrounding Dain as the Emperor led the way to his rooms.
    "Now." Dain closed the door behind Bolin and waved him to a chair. "What exactly happened?"
    Bolin cradled his arm against his stomach, mindlessly massaging the old scar through his sleeve. The burn had faded to no more than a dull ache, the witch's magic slithering back into hiding. That last fact he found more than a little unsettling.
    "Bolin?"
    "I'm… not certain."
    "That's far from comforting." Dain passed him a glass of wine and took a chair across from him.
    "I don't even recall going to the wall. I was in the yard and I thought I saw her."
    "The witch."
    Bolin scowled. "Your tone implies disbelief."
    "Given that I personally saw to the disposal of her remains, it seems rather unlikely that you actually saw the woman herself."
    "Unlikely, but not entirely impossible."
    "There are dark magics that can be used to raise the dead," Dain conceded. "I don't know that anyone has practiced them for centuries. Surely it would not go unnoticed."
    "The witch did it," Bolin said. "She managed to steal one of your own guard from Galys Auld, and turn him into some sort of morbid creature. It killed a Guardsman on that very wall before Berk sent it back to its final rest."
    "You're suggesting Donovan has done the same to her?"
    "I'm suggesting she was a conjuring of Donovan's," Bolin said. "Because the alternative calls my sanity into question."
    Dain swirled the contents of his glass, but kept his eyes on Bolin. They had yet to revert to their normal cerulean. It was a peculiar trait of the Imperial bloodline, the shading of their eyes in concert with mood or use of power. It served as a warning to those who didn't know the man well enough to read his other cues.
    "Thadeus didn't want you leaving Nisair," Dain said. "We discussed it at length, he and I. I knew, however, short of chaining you and throwing you in the dungeon, nothing would keep you from returning Nialyne to the Greensward. I think Thadeus may have forced the issue if I hadn't come along. He is concerned you are not wholly recovered from what happened at the Oak."
    "Aye. He told me as much before we left." Bolin couldn't deny he had come very close to losing himself that night on the way to Nisair. He considered tracking Donovan by using the witch's power trapped in the crystal worth the risk. Those closest to him, however, saw it as a reckless move. Some presence, besides Donovan and his witch, moved through the ethereal that night. It had grabbed hold of Bolin and shredded him. If not for Ciara and Andrakaos somehow finding all the scattered pieces of his essence and binding them back together, Garek would have been forced to drive a knife through Bolin's heart, rather than allow him to become a puppet in unknown hands.
    Bolin stood, pacing the confines of the room, finally coming to a stop near the shuttered window. He turned to face Dain, hands braced against the sill behind him. "In my first encounter with Donovan's witch, before leaving Galys Auld for Nisair, she wounded me. A bit of her magic remained even after the wound healed. I thought with her death it would have faded to nothing." He gave Dain a rueful frown. "That doesn't appear to be the case."
    "You think Donovan is somehow using that against you?"
    "Do you have another explanation?"
    Dain rested his elbow on the chair's arm and settled his chin on his upraised fist. "You won't care for it."
    Bolin held the Emperor's gaze for a long time. His jaw ticked but, for once, he held the words still behind