“Our fangs have venom.” Fenn folded his arms, leaning against a dresser. The points of his canines peeked out of his grin, giving Serenna the impression that he was humored by the perplexity plastered on her face. “The paralytic is pleasurable in small doses and enhances the mingling experience.”
Serenna’s eyes widened. He’d provided her with more information than she’d bargained for. “Oh.”
She ripped her gaze away from Fenn’s neck, seeing the plentiful evidence of such mingling encounters proudly displayed. In the blinding light, she noticed some were fresh. Probably from last night since he couldn’t stop talking about that Lagoon.
Fenn was obviously taking delight in steering her thoughts in an inappropriate direction. He answered a question she wasn’t even going to ask. “I suppose this new assignment as your warden will limit my preferred recreation with my partners.”
Serenna rolled her eyes, uninterested in learning any more personal details about this crude wraith. If he’s this forward, I can use that against him. Maybe it wouldn’t be so difficult to wrestle that key from his neck.
Her thoughts circulated, whirling around a plan of reckless hope. If Lykor’s habit was disappearing during the day, she might be able to summon the prince with no catastrophic repercussions. Since her key was going to be hovering as close as her bawdy guard, freedom didn’t seem so far out of reach.
Fenn unfortunately interpreted her silent reflection for interest. One of his fangs extended, his tongue suggestively circling over the point. “If you’re curious and wish to find out—”
Serenna threw another pillow at his head. “Get out!”
CHAPTER 32
SERENNA
For the second time, Serenna found herself on the Aerie’s balcony, overlooking the desolate landscape glistening with snow. The chill infiltrated her bundled layers, her new wraithling armor wrapped in heavy furs.
She glanced over at Fenn. Hair lashing, he stood windblown across the parapet, peering over the edge. The cold didn’t seem to bother him as his open cloak billowed in the knifing breeze.
“Where are the stairs?” Serenna asked, not seeing how they’d descend the mountain to the base of the fortress.
Fenn slung his crossbow under his furs. “There are no stairs.” He arranged the weapon between the long knives strapped to his spine and extended a beckoning claw. “We don’t need them.”
Not budging, Serenna eyed him suspiciously. “Are you planning on jumping?” She tightened her cloak under her neck, tempted to draw the hood. “I doubt you have wings like those druids, otherwise I’m sure you would’ve flaunted them by now.”
Fenn vanished like a wisp of smoke. Serenna’s heart collided with her ribs when he reappeared beside her, lifting her off the ground. Deprived of time to react, she snatched his leathers with a strangled yelp.
“You’ll want to hold on, she-elf,” he all but purred, clambering up the balustrade to balance on the ledge. “And I’m not picky about where you put your hands.” His chest rumbled with a laugh. “The lower the better.”
Serenna’s protest about his vulgarity and about being carried again morphed into a shriek. An invisible hook grappled her insides, yanking her stomach into her throat. Vision inverting, flipping, and spinning, her sight flashed to black. A rush of wind pounded her ears as everything went weightless.
Serenna gasped for a breath as her feet kissed a soft surface. Snow. Wobbling on unsteady legs, the world trickled back into focus. Fenn chuckled, peeling her fingers off of his armor.
“What—” Head twirling like a tossed coin, Serenna gulped for air, dragging in rapid breaths. “What happened?”
“You survived your first warping.” Fenn held her upright as she stumbled. Squinting in the blazing light, Serenna followed his claw, waving around in front of them. “We came from up there.”
Serenna’s mouth flooded with a sick feeling as her sight soared into the sky. She could hardly distinguish Lykor’s balcony from their spot on the ground. The surrounding snowcapped mountains bowed to the druids’ ancient volcano, outlining the horizon like jagged teeth.
“We have to see where we’re going—we can’t travel through walls,” Fenn offered, as if reading her bewilderment. He made a shooing motion with his talons, exposed skin shimmering with indigo iridescence in the sun. “If you need to evacuate your stomach, do so a little farther away, if you don’t mind. Spin sickness isn’t uncommon after the first few jumps.”
Breathing heavily out of her nose, Serenna tried to think about anything else. Clenching her teeth, she swallowed, wondering if she had any abilities like him. But she was only missing one talent. That hardly made her a wraith.
Once Serenna’s middle stopped pitching and she regained her bearings, they started trekking to one of the volcano’s ground-level entrances. The tunnels at the base of the fortress burrowed into the stronghold’s depths.
A glinting array of light stole Serenna’s attention. Head tipping up, she inspected the uppermost point, flat from a previous eruption. Along the rim of the open crater’s peak, mirrors arranged like flower petals sparkled in the sun. Fenn described how a system of pulleys swiveled the glass to follow the light, capturing and ricocheting the rays to rows of angled mirrors below.
Chains and lifts crawled up the sides of the fortress like vines dangling from a tree. Windows, balconies, and even landing pads Fenn claimed were for the winged druids had been carved into the slopes.
Serenna blew a breath into her gloves, reviving her frigid fingers. “Why didn’t Lykor clear the lift?” Trudging through the icy powder, her boots scuffed, the squeaking noise making her ears twinge. “He could’ve easily blasted away everything with force.”
Fenn shrugged, leading her toward an accumulated pile of snow. “Lykor wanted me to discover what your magics are capable of.”
Encouraging me to use my elemental powers seems like a lot of trust on Lykor’s part. What’s to stop me from trying to escape?
Serenna quickly discovered her answer as the snow became deeper, crumbling beneath her feet. Slowing, she took exaggerated steps to free herself from her boots’ sunken imprints. Right. There’s nowhere to escape to.
“Lykor couldn’t be bothered to find out for himself?” Evidently, burning his claw and dousing him with water wasn’t enough of a demonstration.
Shortening his strides, Fenn waited for her to catch up. “He had other demands of his time today.”
Serenna’s question plumed as steam from the exertion. “Like what?”
“Aesar and my father discussed a jungle—one the elders took refuge in after Lykor portaled the wraith from the elven dungeons.” Fenn shoved his claws into his cloak pockets, navigating the crunchy surface with ease. “Lykor intends to search for another one of those Starry Hearts there.”
“Heart of Stars,” Serenna corrected. Brows wrinkling, she wondered why Fenn shared Lykor’s plans. I guess I can’t do anything with that information anyway. “And Kal and Aesar are…involved?”
Nosiness getting the best of her, Serenna’s frozen cheeks thawed enough to burn. She didn’t want to make any assumptions based on what she’d witnessed in the war room—when Aesar had touched Kal’s cheek with a gentleness that she doubted Lykor was capable of.
Her boot snagged on the icy ground.
Fenn’s claw shot out, catching Serenna before her face collided with the snow. “Since Aesar has been more present in recent weeks, I suppose they could be considered paired,” Fenn said, steadying Serenna on her feet. “I know that’s what my father wants. He hasn’t mingled since…” Fenn adjusted the crossbow holster strapped across his chest. “Well, I don’t keep a tally of who he spends his time with, but he’s been alone for many years.”
Serenna’s heart wrenched at the thought. Mind pirouetting from attempting to dissect wraith culture, she asked, “Is pairing more binding than mingling?”
