“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.
“So it seems.” The prince rubbed his temples in a way that seemed to say, But haven’t we been all this time? “Do you have anything to report from our prisoners?” Vesryn asked, focusing on Jassyn.
Pulling his fidgeting fingers away from his plated earcuffs, Jassyn relayed the information he’d been waiting to divulge. “Magister Thalaesyn and I were able to confirm that the wraith are compelled.” Vesryn’s nostrils flared at the validation of their assumptions, but he didn’t look surprised. “We were able to remove a layer of coercion,” Jassyn continued. “And…” he trailed off, eyes darting between the pair of warriors. “The wraith are mute, but they aren’t aggressive anymore—you should see for yourself.”
The prince left Zaeryn in the command room with instructions to organize the flight squads. Jassyn hesitantly led Vesryn back down the stall-lined corridor to the captive wraith. Stable hands hurried by, starting their morning chores. A handful of dracovae roused, leaning over their doors, curious eyes watching them pass.
Vesryn mumbled something about thinking he’d sensed Serenna’s presence flicker in his mind once more when they’d been in the war room.
While it may have been a figment of Vesryn’s exhaustion, Jassyn clutched onto the shred of optimism for his cousin’s sake. She’s alive, he assured himself. Vesryn would know if the bond shattered—he’s felt it before.
Entering the wraith’s stall, Jassyn held his breath, waiting for Vesryn’s reaction. Eyes stinging, he struggled to swallow past the stench of unwashed bodies. Dust from the straw glowed in the streams of sunlight squeezing in through the open windows.
With the night’s work finished, Thalaesyn had unraveled the rending binds he’d previously placed on the wraith. All three sat slumped on the floor, their ragged clothing torn and hanging off their gaunt limbs. Two were still weeping as Thalaesyn stood among them.
“What the bleeding stars is this?” Vesryn demanded, Essence igniting around him. His eyes ricocheted between the loose wraith and the magister.
“Like I said,” Jassyn reiterated, ready to intervene—somehow—if the prince failed to remain calm. “We removed a layer of coercion that apparently made them aggressive. As you can see, they’re…” He glanced at the wraith. “Subdued.”
“I was able to untangle a few more knots of magic that restricted their speech,” Thalaesyn said, kneeling next to a female who was staring at the ground. He cast healing light over her talons, mending the bed of nails she’d injured in her mindless state. “They have awareness of their surroundings now.”
“They can talk?” Jassyn asked as confusion wrestled through him. Thalaesyn made more progress than I anticipated.
Not giving the magister time to answer, Vesryn stalked to the middle of the stall. “I want to question them.” The heat in his voice nearly singed the air. “Now.”
“That’s not necessary,” Thalaesyn said. Rising, he skimmed his fingers through his golden hair. “Velinya here—”
“What?” Jassyn and the prince both snapped in unison. Jassyn’s attention flew to the female wraith.
She glanced up at the sound of their voices. Her scarlet eyes widened, meeting his. Faster than Jassyn could blink, she shot to her feet and dashed across the room in a blur, ramming into him. Losing his balance, Jassyn stumbled from the collision, her swift movement stealing time for him to process any alarm.
Vesryn was the first to react, shadows spinning out from his fist. Another pulse of magic rippled across the room. Thalaesyn threw a current of darkness to intercept the prince’s power, slicing through the rending before Essence reached the wraith sobbing against Jassyn’s chest.
Vesryn snarled, rounding on the magister. “Explain.”
“They won’t harm us and there’s no need to harm them.” Shadows churned around Thalaesyn as he combated the prince’s rage with a stoic calm. “I fear these three won’t be the only recruits your rangers collect from the realms.”
Recruits? A beat of silence passed as Jassyn reeled from the named wraith. If she really was Serenna’s curly-haired friend, all trace of her was gone. Pulse droning in his ears, Jassyn’s thoughts spiraled.
Drawing away, the female sniffed, wiping the back of her claw across damp cheeks. Her crimson eyes searched his, silently begging him to see.
Stomach pitching like he’d toppled forward into empty air, Jassyn loosened the breath barricaded behind his ribs. His voice broke into a hoarse whisper. “Velinya?”
She nodded frantically before bursting into a fresh wave of tears. Grabbing him again in an embrace, she wept into his shoulder.
Shock careened through Jassyn, his reality unraveling as he processed the impossible. Something that went against everything he knew, the inconceivable calcifying into a horrifying dream.
“The wraith were created,” he whispered, “with our own people.”
Vesryn hit the floor. He leaned against the wall, drawing both palms over his face, his dread a mirror to Jassyn’s. The prince didn’t even have to ask the question as his eyes flicked to Thalaesyn’s.
Nodding, the magister’s gaze fell as he dropped down to mend another despondent wraith. He’d been aware the entire time—a prisoner to the knowledge for a century.
The prince’s hands muffled his words.
“Fuck.”
CHAPTER 30
SERENNA
