“But it doesn’t taste like meat,” Cormal prompted.
Prince Kinan screwed up his face, looking like he was thinking hard. “The… resistance is different. Going through an object is a little like wading through mud. I can do it, and it feels weird, but maybe part of that is because there’s still part of me that thinks I shouldn’t be able to do it. It’s… passive, if that makes sense.”
“I’m not sure any of this does,” Cormal admitted.
The Prince huffed a breath, his lips tipping up a bit. “Well, that’s certainly true. Going through a person is more like…” He trailed off for another moment, thinking. “In the winter, did you ever pull back the blanket in the bed, and it crackled?”
Cormal nodded. “I used to pretend those were tiny flames.”
The Prince grinned. “They were the best in the dark, when you could see the sparks.”
“It’s like the sparks?” Cormal asked.
The Prince tilted his head back and forth. “It’s like a thousand of them all compressed into that one space. It’s not resistance the same way it is with the objects, but I’m definitely going through something. Oh, and—”
But he cut himself off abruptly.
“What?” Cormal asked.
The Prince shook his head. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Nothing.”
“Prince Kinan, it might be important,” Cormal persisted.
“A random thought. It’s nothing,” he insisted.
He was definitely lying to Cormal, and as soon as he wondered why, he knew. He looked out at the sea of Mage Warriors who were supposed to be reading and were probably at least half of them listening to this conversation, and decided that maybe now wasn’t the moment to pursue this.
“Which book would you prefer to read?” he asked instead, holding the books aloft, one in each hand. “Riveting title number one or riveting title number two?”
The Prince let out a little laugh that sounded more genuine now, and Cormal congratulated himself on actually managing to improve a situation and not use any fireballs.
Maybe he was growing as a person?
“Oh, number two, definitely.”
Cormal obediently put the book down in front of the Prince and then opened up his own.
“What am I looking for exactly?” the Prince asked. “‘Spell to make the Prince solid again,’ right?”
There was a flurry of laughter that proved that yes, most of the room was listening. But that was all right. Listening and engaged was better than tired and frustrated and missing something.
Cormal smiled faintly. “If only life were so simple.”
“Yes, if only.”
As it turned out, this method wasn’t particularly practical. Every time the Prince said, “Page,” it threw Cormal out of what he was reading, and he lost concentration. But he learned to put his finger on the spot he was reading, flip the Prince’s page, then go back to what he was reading and do his best to wait for the next moment when the Prince called out and Cormal would have to do it all over again.
The Prince might not even have the magical knowledge that was necessary for the task, except that hehadtrained a littlewith Tramad, Brannal, and Cormal when he was younger. It had all been theoretical, of course, but it was important for the royal family to understand what the Mage Warriors and Mages could do.
It wasn’t the same as actually being able to control the elements, but it was probably more than anyone else learned. And since they didn’t know what the solution would look like, it was even possible that the Prince was, in fact, the only person who would recognize it.
If that was the case, Cormal wasn’t sure that even a lifetime would be enough for the Prince to make it through all of the books in their libraries. But they failed if they gave up, and this was better than that. Plus, Cormal didn’t ever want to make the Prince feel as though he couldn’t contribute. He’d spent so many years able to do so little; if it took Cormal getting distracted by a periodic “Page” to make him feel like he could help, then Cormal would put up with it every day.
Once it was time for dinner, the Mage Warriors marked where they were in their books and filed out in a hurry, like they were worried that Cormal was going to tell them they had to stay. But they all took the time to thank the Prince, say goodbye to him, or at least incline their heads.
“You did a good thing today,” Cormal acknowledged.
“I wasn’t very helpful, and you know it,” the Prince said, waving at the book with frustration. “My knowledge of the Old Tongue is more rusty than I thought.”
