An apprehensive chill drenched Jassyn’s chest like the deluge sluicing over his skin. That crackling blue and purple lightning whipping through the cloudy currents couldn’t be natural. Serenna had told him stories of spring typhoons that periodically battered Vaelyn’s castle walls—a few in her memory had even destroyed buildings that weren’t stone. The monstrous whirlwind in the distance must’ve been hundreds of times the strength of those storms.
Reading the question in Thalaesyn’s eyes, Jassyn swallowed down the anxiety climbing up his throat. His attention bounced back to the prince. “There’s no reason to be somewhere so dangerous. We shouldn’t be doing it this way.”
Jassyn’s muscles locked as a charged buzz shuddered over his skin, another wave of lightning forming in the air. Assessing Thalaesyn with the added pressure of the storm threatened to fracture his focus. Wrestling his nerves into submission, Jassyn slowed his breathing, counting the seconds between the lightning and thunder.
Vesryn folded his arms, tipping his chin at the magister. “What can you tell us of the coercion the king placed on you?”
Jassyn held his breath at the blunt force of the blow. I suppose with the Maelstrom approaching, there’s no time to dance around subtly. Though he honestly hadn’t expected much tact from the prince.
Thalaesyn wrung out his damp tunic, jaw silently working. “I’m aware that the compulsive magic exists.” His eyes narrowed first on Vesryn and then on Jassyn, as if processing their unusual dynamic. “How do you two know about it?”
Jassyn readied a response, brimming with eagerness to release the truth that he’d secretly been assessing his mentor’s mind for weeks. Vesryn cut in before Jassyn could get a word out, his tone sharp. “And why have you said nothing about my sire’s compulsion for a century? What did you do to warrant it?”
“If I could even speak of what the magic prevents me from saying, who would I have told? And who would’ve believed me? You?” Thalaesyn bared his teeth. “The council’s hound who tracks down the wraith without asking questions, not thinking twice about slaughtering those innocents?”
Jassyn tensed while Thalaesyn glared at Vesryn in a way that suggested they shared more of a history than he’d assumed—aside from the magister simply being present as one of the palace researchers. Eyes bouncing back to the prince, Jassyn braced for Vesryn’s reaction.
Vesryn went still, a predator honed in on prey. His words were dangerously quiet, unsettlingly calm like the eye of a storm. “Innocents?” The prince suddenly lunged, driving a finger into Thalaesyn’s chest. “Has the coercion degraded your mind so much over these years that you’ve forgotten how many those beasts have stolen from us?”
“That’s where you’re mistaken.” Thalaesyn’s face contorted with anger, but his voice didn’t rise to meet Vesryn’s outburst. “I know what the coercion is concealing, but Galaeryn saw to it that I can’t discuss it.”
Jassyn shoved his trepidation aside. He hesitantly placed a hand on Vesryn’s arm, hoping to temper the prince’s erratic behavior before he harmed the magister.
“You wanted me to examine the magic,” Jassyn gently reminded him. Vesryn’s muscles strained beneath his fingers. “It’s possible that I might be able to untangle the power and Magister Thalaesyn can tell us what the king has concealed.” The island shuddered under Jassyn’s boots, drawing his attention back to their dwindling time as the Maelstrom pursued them.
Vesryn’s fists quivered at his sides before his shoulders relaxed. The prince retreated a step, jerking his head at Thalaesyn, a muscle jumping in his clenched jaw.
“May I assess the coercion on your mind?” Jassyn asked, ruthlessly ripping his awareness away from the storm’s alarming energy. “If I can do so safely, I’ll try to unravel the magic.”
At Thalaesyn’s nod, Jassyn hovered a hand by his mentor’s head. While thunder rumbled, he hauled on his Well, spinning a wave of telepathic power through Thalaesyn’s veins, channeling raw Essence toward the magister’s mind.
Unable to take the lingering silence as his imagination cycled through the countless horrific consequences they’d face if the king discovered they were meddling with his magic, Jassyn asked, “Why were you banished?” He’d never had the courage to inquire before, and occupying himself with a conversation while he worked would also keep his attention off of the impending danger stalking the coast.
“I discovered—” Thalaesyn’s brows collided with what looked like a flash of pain before he cleared his throat. With a heavy exhale, he tried again. “The king wouldn’t have known—” Thalaesyn seized, yanking in a sharp breath, his words cut off.
The magister twisted a silver ring that glittered with Essence around his finger before focusing on the prince. “Your anger and pain are justified, but you’ve been misguided. You’re not the only one with regrets from that night.” Vesryn flinched at Thalaesyn’s words, likely reminded of his absence from the palace during the attack. “Your mother and brother wouldn’t have perished if I hadn’t meddled in magic that I had no business manipulating.” Thalaesyn’s voice was hoarse with remorse. “It’s all my fault. The only reason Galaeryn hasn’t killed me—or worse—is because I might still be useful in furthering his dark plans.” His gaze unfocused on the roiling sea, bitter regret lingering in his words. “I don’t know why he didn’t leave me rotting in the palace dungeons.”
“Your imprisonment disturbed too many in court,” Vesryn said, the war in his eyes subsiding as he calmed. “Especially those loyal to my mother.” His fingers started tapping across his arms while Jassyn directed his attention into Thalaesyn’s skull. “The opening of Centarya allowed for a more…acceptable exile.”
Jassyn jerked when Vesryn’s presence suddenly slipped into his head. Could you not? Jassyn asked. Your hovering is bound to be distracting.
Show me what you’re doing, Vesryn insisted.
Resigned that the prince would only harass him until he relented, Jassyn released a weary sigh. As long as you simply observe and don’t interrupt me, he conceded, permitting the telepathic link to coil around his mind. Jassyn embarked on an explanation, detailing everything he knew about the knotted network of telepathy. I’ll attempt to unravel a knot of coercion—I’m not sure what to expect.
What Jassyn didn’t divulge was how he’d accidentally untangled some measure of compulsion before. Though the magic on the elven wraith warrior wasn’t as extensive as the power snaring Thalaesyn—at least from the muddled details Jassyn recalled.
I shouldn’t have attempted to use Essence while under the influence of Stardust, he thought to himself. Guilt percolated into his bones like the chilly rain seeping into his skin. Any mishaps could’ve caused irreparable damage.
Jassyn targeted one of the countless snarls of coercion. He picked at the magic like he was attempting to unravel a single thread from a long rope, careful to not jumble the fibers in the other strands. Using his own telepathy talent like a magnet to draw out and counter the weaves, he loosened a cord of power.
The storm is getting closer, Vesryn warned.
Why did you bring us here? Jassyn wiped the beading mist and nervous perspiration off his face. We could’ve worked in Thalaesyn’s office. You’re rushing me and this isn’t something to be hurried.
Jassyn sensed Vesryn’s fingers twitching through their telepathic link, likely wanting to try untwining the knot of coercion himself. The progress of untangling a single strand of magic was painfully slow—unlike the Maelstrom’s impending approach. Jassyn glanced at the turbid waters and the windstorm barreling toward them.
What would happen if you cut the clump off? Vesryn asked, drawing Jassyn’s attention back to the magister under his hands.
I don’t know what damage we could cause by simply unraveling the magic, Jassyn said, continuing to pluck at the coercion. By doing it this way, I can monitor Thalaesyn and make sure there aren’t any adverse—
A streak of rending penetrated the magister’s skull, slicing the coiled telepathy in half.
Jassyn’s pulse skidded to a halt. He sucked in a shocked breath when the cluster of coercion he was working on disintegrated like a wick burned by a flame.
Thalaesyn staggered backward.
“Stop!” Jassyn shouted at his cousin, rushing to catch the magister before he collapsed. “You have no idea what you’re doing.” He helped steady Thalaesyn on his feet before rounding on the prince. “Stars, you can hardly heal a scorching bruise! You have no business trying to free his mind.”
“But did it work?” Vesryn asked, eyes bright with curiosity as his shadows receded.
“I doubt it!” Jassyn said, grabbing fistfuls of his soaking curls. “There are a hundred knots in that web.” Dueling waves of incredulity and disbelief at Vesryn’s idiocy had Jassyn’s heart furiously flinging itself against his ribs. “Don’t do that again. We can’t even begin to guess what effect untangling the coercion might have on his mind.”
Thalaesyn’s hand trembled as he touched his head. “The wraith are my fault.” He flinched at the admission, eyes darting between Vesryn and Jassyn. Thalaesyn focused on the prince, his words spilling out in a rush. “You need to stop killing them. They’re not the enemy—”
Shadows erupted from Vesryn, the black cloud around him mirroring the Maelstrom’s wrath. Darkness seized Thalaesyn in a violent hold.
Without even thinking, Jassyn grabbed the prince. To do what, he had no idea, but Vesryn shoved him off.
The prince snatched the front of the immobilized magister’s tunic. “How can you say that?” he snarled, eyes blazing with outrage. “Those monsters took everything from me!” Chest heaving, he shook Thalaesyn. “They took everything from you!”
Apparently, Thalaesyn finally had enough of the prince and ignited his own Essence in response. His rending hacked at the prince’s shadows but Vesryn’s magic exploded, a hundred straps lashing to bind the magister completely.
Using all his strength, Jassyn hauled Vesryn away. Sensing the prince’s power flare in response, Jassyn tossed his hands up, frantically slamming a shield around himself to avoid the restrictive hold.
“We need to listen to what Magister Thalaesyn has to say,” Jassyn gritted out as Vesryn’s rending battered his ward. “He knows something. That’s why we’re doing this—to get answers.”
A tendon in Vesryn’s neck strained as his shadows roiled like the waves slapping the stones. The prince rounded on Thalaesyn. “Where were you the night of the attack? How did you survive?”
“Galaeryn already had me tethered in the dungeons,” Thalaesyn snapped. “I couldn’t even warn Maraelyn of what I’d done through our bond.”
Jassyn blinked. He was bonded to the queen?
Releasing his hold on Thalaesyn, Vesryn started pacing, brow dented in a furrow. The prince cut his hand over to Jassyn, pointing at the magister. “Keep working.”
“We’ve had enough for one night.” Jassyn glanced at Thalaesyn before studying the raging ocean as another echo of thunder crashed above them. “The storm is nearly here. Let’s return to Centarya and we can figure out how to proceed.”
“Now!” Vesryn barked at him.
