Vesryn straightened from the onslaught, blinking rapidly. “One of them said my name.” The prince’s voice lowered, suspended on the brink of disbelief and bitterness. “I don’t know if it’s more unsettling that those beasts can speak or the fact that it seemed to want mercy.”
Reclaiming his rebelling lungs, Jassyn’s eyes widened in stunned silence even though he’d already discovered that wraith could converse. The wraith probably heard someone address the prince and learned his name.
The tendons in Vesryn’s neck strained before he slammed the staff into the sand, leaning against it. “I lost control. I rended every single one before I extracted any answers.”
Anger disintegrating, the prince scrubbed a hand over his face. “The attack…dredged up memories I’ve kept buried for so long.” His fingers tightened on the staff, grinding the wood further into the earth. “I couldn’t lose Serenna like I did my brother. Even if we haven’t accepted our bond yet, I don’t think I’d survive another connection breaking or failing another person.” Vesryn slumped as he shook his head, staring at the ground. “I ruined the only chance we had of discovering where those beasts came from.” His words dwindled to a whisper, nearly dusted away by the breeze. “I’m so tired of fucking up.”
Jassyn’s chest splintered in response, fracturing under the weight of his own guilt. He almost confessed his encounter with the elven wraith, informing his cousin that one of their number could wield Essence. But Jassyn wavered, the scab of his shame still too fresh to rip back open. It wouldn’t be any consolation to the prince anyway.
Jassyn hardly heard Vesryn as he spoke to the ground. “The night the wraith killed my mother and brother… I wasn’t at the palace. I should’ve been, but I wasn’t.” The prince swallowed. “I was at the Vallende estate…out of my mind…” Vesryn cleared his throat, voice breaking as he traced a whorl on the staff. “The only thing I remember was feeling split apart when the bond shattered. I blacked out after it happened. I don’t know for how long.” He blew out an unsteady sigh. “When I woke…Aesar was…just gone.”
Jassyn’s heart stopped at the admission and then twisted painfully as he watched Vesryn’s features contort, haunted by the pain of the past. An overwhelming urge had him wanting to provide some measure of reassurance that the prince wasn’t alone. Unsure of what to do, Jassyn hesitantly stepped forward, reaching out to clasp his cousin’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he said, knowing words were an empty comfort while the prince drowned in regret. “I never knew the details of that night.”
Vesryn’s shoulders caved in. “If I didn’t foul myself with Stardust for years, Aesar wouldn’t be dead.” He drew in a shuddering breath. “My mother wouldn’t be dead. Along with so many others. The wraith left nothing behind but shredded corpses. My sire didn’t even allow me to say goodbye.” The prince released a bitter laugh. “All I have to remember my brother are a shelf of his books, his glaives, and his boots.”
Sadness devoured Jassyn whole as he glanced at Vesryn’s shoes at the edge of the yard—that offensive, tattered pair he’d always detested. He blinked back an uncomfortable sting in his eyes, realizing why the prince clung to the unsightly footwear. After decades, the leather was falling apart—most likely only held intact by magic. We’re all broken in our own ways and sometimes it’s only frayed threads holding our seams together.
“Thank you for helping me the last few days,” Jassyn said, squeezing his cousin’s shoulder before pulling away. He wiped at a stray tear, suddenly finding the distant mountains interesting to look at. We’ve both failed those around us. Maybe we’re not so different after all.
Wingbeats thundered through the air. The prince tossed his staff to the sand and rolled his shoulders. “Take a break and get some water. I need to speak with Zaeryn.”
The weight of the moment dissipated. Jassyn turned, following Vesryn’s gaze over his head toward the sky. The earth trembled, the vibrations rippling up his legs as the rangers’ flight captain landed her chestnut dracovae in a sprawling meadow.
Vesryn strode off while Jassyn stumbled to the watering rifts located in the grass outside the ring, beyond grateful for the interruption. Two horizontal portals spanning a pace in the air suspended an undulating column of water, presumably drawn from a nearby mountain stream. Seeing no other way to drink, Jassyn cupped his hands to catch the flow, splashing water over his face.
Eyes unfocusing, he stared at the gushing fountain, dwelling on the long road ahead—especially considering Vesryn’s star-bent notion to personally oversee his fitness. But if outright war with the wraith is approaching, I need to prepare.
As his body relaxed, Jassyn’s senses suddenly buzzed, his skin pinching tight with his lifting hairs. Everything lurched into a vivid, crisp focus. The wind sighed as it shifted. The grass thrummed under his toes. A stream of water from the portal’s cascade began rippling toward him like a flower turning with the sun.
Jassyn frantically squeezed his eyes shut, ruthlessly yanking his awareness inward, away from the earth. The handful of times he’d allowed his mind to drift recently, the surrounding world had seemed to beckon to him. He hadn’t yet determined how to prevent it from spontaneously happening. How am I supposed to tune out this magic when it’s always around me?
Not having the head space to deal with how he channeled a power that was supposed to be extinct, Jassyn shoved the thought away to dwell on at another time. Instead, he focused on recovering his body, quenching his thirst, and slowing his heartbeats along with his breaths.
Jassyn jumped when the prince’s voice sounded next to him. “Slow down.” Vesryn swatted him away from catching the column’s water. “You’ll throw up again at the rate you’re going. And I’ve had a lifetime’s worth of hearing you retch.”
Gut sloshing as he wiped his hands on his leathers, Jassyn sighed. The prince probably had a point.
Vesryn helped himself to the draft, shoving his face into the flow with the manners of an animal at a watering hole. “I think you should come to the sparring ring in the evenings,” Vesryn said after he finished drinking, wiping his arm across his mouth.
Jassyn released a humorless laugh. “I can hardly stand on one leg without falling over, let alone be of any consequence to anyone who wants to practice.”
“You have to start somewhere.” Vesryn shrugged. “Why not train with the best?”
Too exhausted to fire back a retort, Jassyn settled on rolling his eyes.
The prince’s attention wandered over his shoulder. Twisting around, Jassyn saw Flight Captain Zaeryn sitting in the grass, sharpening a knife while her dracovae stretched out, brown scales absorbing the sun. She waved across the field.
Vesryn nodded in her direction, raising a hand back. “She asked if I’d be bringing you around more.”
Jassyn studied the prince’s second in command. “I have no interest in joining the rangers.” He glared at his cousin. “You ruined the whole flying experience for me.”
“You missed my meaning.” Vesryn smirked, apparently unrepentant for inducing Jassyn’s fear of heights by shoving him off a dracovae in flight decades ago. “She’s curious about you.” The prince caught water with his hands this time, before guzzling from his palms. “Like…she’d be interested in getting to know you.”
Jassyn’s lip curled in disgust at the stream of liquid leaking from the corner of Vesryn’s mouth. He blinked, registering the prince’s insinuation. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not? She’s a formidable fighter and has put me on my back more times than I can count.” Vesryn elbowed him. “Those thighs of hers could snap a dracovae’s rib. You should see how—”
“I’m not ready for something like that,” Jassyn snapped, his chest constricting with discomfort. “And I doubt I’ll ever be.”
Vesryn’s mirth morphed to understanding before he brushed loose fringes of hair away from his face, averting his eyes. “Right. Of course. I’ll fend her off for you if it comes to that.” Clearing his throat, he quickly backtracked topics. “But you should still consider training. I think working your body to exhaustion in the evenings will be an excellent distraction from the dust—to break your former routines.” The prince broke into a grin, sidling closer to shake Jassyn’s shoulder. “In any case, I’ll be tucking you in every night, ensuring you don’t slip up.”
If we keep this up, I’m sure Vesryn will think we’re friends. Jassyn rubbed his temples, mouth pinching into a line. “Fine,” he breathed out in reluctant agreement.
The prince’s eyes lit up, glinting with a wretched delight. “Really?”
“Don’t make me regret it.” Jassyn jabbed a finger at Vesryn’s chest, pushing him back out of his space. “I’m sure your influence will be more destructive than Stardust.”
Vesryn clapped Jassyn on the back, nearly sending him sprawling. “Oh, I guarantee it.”
CHAPTER 5
SERENNA
“Shield!” A female magus bellowed at Serenna from the side of the Combat Yard.
Serenna didn’t shield.
A brutal blast of force smacked Serenna upside the head, flashing a torrent of stars behind her eyes. She’d had no time to practice fabricating wards after Vesryn had snapped her into the ability a little over a week ago.
Blinking, Serenna found herself staring at the ground, hands sinking into sand. Shaking her head to dislodge the ringing in her ears, she swayed to her feet. A violent rush of shadows veiled Serenna in a gale of darkness.
“No rending!” the magus shouted.
Serenna scowled at the interfering menace before whipping her attention back to Ayla, twenty paces across from her. Wiping away perspiration trickling down her forehead, Serenna ignored the bursts of magic flaring around the other initiates scattered out in pairs.
The rules of the duel were completely unfair, stifling any advantage Serenna had with her aptitude in rending. She wasn’t going to obliterate Alari’s soon-to-be princess—she just wanted to bring that snake to her belly.
Serenna wouldn’t have been in such a fury if Ayla hadn’t taunted her with her impending engagement to the prince before their match, a vicious reminder that their sire had deemed Ayla a more suitable consort for the realm. Serenna’s mood hadn’t improved once her sister had started hurling her around the ring. Half-sister, she corrected, detesting even that close of an association.
Wrestling her emotions back behind iron bars in her mind, Serenna smothered her shadows before the magus reprimanded her again. Catching her breath, she twisted glimmering Essence around her hands, readying herself for another round that she was now seriously dreading.
The instructors had organized this “pre-tournament” practice, and Serenna thought the extra training would be prudent preparation—especially if the wraith returned. She wouldn’t have bothered if she’d known that the conniving magus intended to pair her against Ayla. Intentionally, she had no doubts.
The odds were stacked against her. Fanning the flames of her self-pity, Serenna checked off her sister’s advantages in her head. Ayla has more abilities than me so she’s automatically stronger, and she’s obviously had more practice so she has more magic in her Well to draw from.
Vesryn had suspended formal classes for two weeks while workers restored the battle-scarred campus. In the meantime, Jassyn had promised Serenna that he’d escort her to Kyansari to visit Velinya, who’d been transported to the capital’s healing grounds after the attack.
