Waving around the crater, Fenn pointed out the residential districts. Apparently delighted to be her tour guide, he provided her with an extensive recounting of how the wraith had become self-sufficient in this remote section of the world. While reliant on Lykor’s portals to collect resources, their citizens were smiths, gardeners, warriors, and nearly all other professions—everyone had a purpose and a place.
“But there were windows in the war room,” Serenna said after Fenn told her the entire population lived within the shelter of the volcano. “You said Lykor has a tower? Is it somewhere else?”
Fenn nodded and wandered over to a wall containing a cluster of shimmering blue mushrooms. “There are other dwellings carved into the surrounding mountains. Lykor lives in one of those, above a library.” Plucking off a luminous cap, Fenn extended it to her.
Puzzled by the offering, Serenna asked, “What’s that for?”
“So you can see in the Aerie after I extinguish the torches.” Fenn twirled the stem. “It’ll glow for a few hours.”
Unsure how to interpret the gesture, Serenna left the overlook to accept the fungus. “And you care about that because…?”
“It is my full intention to prioritize your happiness so we don’t have another flying glass debacle.” Something like humor tugged at his lips. “Lykor’s tower has more windows than the war room.”
He expects me to be content as a captive? Instead of mustering irritation, surprise flashed through Serenna, realizing that Fenn inexplicably went out of his way to ensure her comfort.
“Why did you protect me?” Serenna ventured to ask, seeking the motive for his kindness. “From all that flying glass?”
“I owed you a debt,” Fenn said, thumbing a lip ring.
Serenna blinked, her fingers tightening around the glowing mushroom. “What debt?”
“You saved me first.” Fenn tilted his head. “From Lykor’s shadow magics.”
Serenna opened her mouth, ready to confess that she had no choice but to include him in her ward, but clicked her teeth shut instead. Fenn didn’t seem to notice while he traced the slice a sliver of glass had cut into his cheek. He’s going to poke his eye out with those talons if he isn’t careful.
Fenn jerked his chin toward a corridor, sending his braids swinging. “There aren’t too many stairs remaining.” Flashing her a fanged grin, he added, “And if you ask nicely, I won’t even object to carrying you the rest of the way.”
CHAPTER 29
JASSYN
Weariness clung to Jassyn’s limbs from spending the small hours of the night meticulously untangling knots of coercion. When he’d begun to sway on his feet, Thalaesyn had shooed him off, urging him to rest. The magister had busied himself with instructing the rangers to prepare more comfortable accommodations for their prisoners.
Well nearly depleted, Jassyn skirted inside the door of the command room to wait for the prince. While exhausted, he was still buzzing with energy, like a lightning storm was caged in his chest. Brimming with new information, Jassyn was eager to share what he and Thalaesyn had discovered. Those three wraith weren’t the mindless creatures they used to be—that much was clear.
Finding a place along the wall to observe the meeting, Jassyn swallowed a yawn as the gray dawn snuffed out the setting moons through the windows. It was hard to believe that only a few hours had passed since Vesryn’s rampage through the snow.
The prince’s eyes flicked to him before returning to the ten assembled officers, arranged around a crescent table. Jassyn scanned Vesryn’s handpicked soldiers, a motley group of Alari’s elite elven-blooded warriors. He recognized Flight Captain Zaeryn at the far end of the table, angled to face both his position by the door and the prince. Silver-haired and sunbaked like Vesryn, her toned arms bulged from her leathers in a manner equally as intimidating as his cousin’s.
Too late, Jassyn realized that he’d inadvertently been staring. They locked eyes across the room. Recalling that Vesryn had mentioned Zaeryn’s interest in him, he yanked his gaze away.
Shifting his feet, Jassyn briefly considered shuffling to the back of the room—out of her line of sight. The pitching in his gut subsided when he assumed her curiosity had nothing to do with his bloodline—and that was a realm’s worth of difference from what he was accustomed to.
Vesryn paced in front of an expansive map draped across a wall’s entire length, distracting Jassyn from his unease. In their century-long search for the elusive wraith, the rangers had pinned every location they’d scoured—nearly every corner of all the realms. Jassyn noted the glaring gaps beginning near the foothills of the Hibernal Wastes. No markers extended to the western edge of their known world.
Vesryn cast a circle of illumination over the mountains. “I intend to portal each officer’s squad to this location,” he said, tapping the highlighted area Jassyn assumed they’d traveled to in search of Serenna. “We’ll fan out from here.”
The prince drifted to the center of the table, leaning forward on his knuckles. The rangers remained focused, absorbing his orders. “Our advantage is the dracovae, but their safety needs to be prioritized. As you know, they’re incapable of journeying far in the glacial air—even if we’re using shields. But I still want detailed sweeps of those mountains.”
Vesryn pushed around a stack of reports, not glancing at their contents. “I’ll leave this to your discretion, but I’d like each of our warriors to seriously consider forming bonds with a trusted comrade.”
Jassyn’s mouth dried to dust. While obviously not a ranger, the request still struck him like an arrow, piercing him with unease. Zaeryn and the other officers tensed in their chairs, nearly suffocating the room with a collective held breath.
The thought of sharing his magic and a space in his head had Jassyn anxiously twisting a curl dangling in front of his eyes. Some days, he could hardly haul himself out of his own tumultuous thoughts—let alone worry about burdening someone else with the inner turmoil caged in his mind. He could only hope that the prince didn’t request the same of the magus at Centarya, even though some of his peers had begun experimenting with the bonding magic on their own.
Vesryn squared his shoulders, looking ready to battle the quiet resistance. “This binding doesn’t have to be indefinite, but there are advantages.” His hawkish stare roved over the warriors, punctuating the silence. “They’ll be able to draw from a shared Well—use each other’s abilities if they’re lacking in any talents—and communicate without telepathy. Among other benefits I won’t waste time spelling out.”
Vesryn’s jaw tightened to a block of steel. “I know this isn’t a common practice, but we need every edge we can get.” He fiddled with his uniform’s stitching, ripping a thread free, eyes unfocusing on the string in his fist. “I don’t want anyone engaging with those beasts if their base is located.” The prince blinked, then thoughtfully frowned at Jassyn. “We’ll plan our assault and utilize Centarya’s forces.”
Jassyn gave his cousin an approving nod, respecting that he had enough clarity to keep his warriors safe. After the prince dismissed his officers, Jassyn and Zaeryn joined Vesryn at the map.
The prince clenched his fingers, knuckles blanching before he spoke. “Remind the rangers that those monsters have gold-firing weapons. Their unusual arrows can tear through our shields, so we’ll need to avoid fighting them from the air.”
“We’ll find a way to bolster our weaknesses,” Zaeryn confidently said, resting her hand on a short, curved glaive at her side. “In the meantime, I think it’s a risk to fly so deep into the Wastes.”
“I know.” Vesryn raked a hand over his mouth, staring at the illuminated area on the map. “But it needs to be done. We’ll have to trust the rangers to not push the dracovae—or themselves—too far before portaling back to safety.”
“If the dracovae permit it, we could always assign two to each,” Zaeryn offered. One side of her mouth tugged up as her azure eyes pointedly studied Jassyn. “The second rider could be primed with Essence as a reserve.”
“We don’t have anyone else to train as riders.” The prince sighed, shoulders sagging as if burdened by command. “The recruits at Centarya aren’t ready. The magus…”
Vesryn joined in Zaeryn’s glance toward him. Jassyn’s eyes widened as he met the prince’s gaze. He stubbornly shook his head, ready to launch into an argument about how his skills were better suited on the ground and not thousands of feet in the air.
“You’re right,” the prince finally said, agreeing with Jassyn’s silent objection. “If the wraith return, I need the magus at Centarya.”
The clamped pressure released from Jassyn’s chest, though he could still feel the weight of Zaeryn’s attention.
Vesryn dragged a hand over his face, the dark circles smudged under his eyes betraying his fatigue. “I have little faith that the capital’s soldiers on campus will be of any aid. We’ll have to work with the numbers we have here.”
“Speaking of numbers,” Zaeryn said, her eyes finally sliding away from Jassyn. “One of our riders assigned to this coast is a week overdue.” She pointed to the northern edge of the map. “Those we’ve sent on reconnaissance haven’t located her or the missing dracovae.”
After blowing out a long breath, Vesryn instructed the flight captain to dispatch additional rangers to that area. The location wasn’t close to where they’d searched for Serenna in the Wastes, but the prince wouldn’t dismiss any potential leads.
Vesryn nodded to Jassyn but spoke to Zaeryn. “We have more to discuss, but Jassyn is going to assess your mind before I can inform you of anything else.”
Jassyn straightened. That was news to him, but he couldn’t argue with his cousin’s unexpected logic. It wasn’t beyond belief that some of the rangers might be under the king’s control.
After Jassyn verified that the flight captain wasn’t coerced and demonstrated to her how to detect the compulsive weaves, the prince divulged their suspicions of the magic influencing Kyansari’s soldiers.
“I want every ranger inspected when they return from their patrols,” Vesryn ordered. “Send word to me immediately if any of our warriors are coerced.”
Crossing his arms, the prince stared at the map. “And there’s more—something I have yet to inform the magisters or magus of.” A muscle twitched in Vesryn’s cheek before he turned his attention back to Jassyn and Zaeryn. “Elashor informed me that the injured Centarya sent to Kyansari’s healing grounds have been reassigned. They won’t be returning to campus.”
“Why?” Jassyn blurted, alarm racing through him. “Where?”
Scoffing, Vesryn shook his head. “The council took it upon themselves to dispatch those initiates somewhere undisclosed on the mortal war front.” Rage flashed in his eyes, the harbinger of an impending storm. “I was under the impression that Centarya and the rangers would remain under my command.”
“We’re on our own then if the capital can’t be trusted,” Zaeryn said, squinting against a shard of sunlight cascading into the room.
