Jassyn studied the stable hands in the distance, too busy seeing to their morning chores to bother looking over at the practice yards. No one else remained at the Ranger Station—the warriors had departed at dawn to patrol on their dracovae, hunting for signs of the wraith. Jassyn surveyed the scattered clouds, but nothing more than an empty sky stared back.
“Relax,” Vesryn said, shaking out his wrists. “Nobody iswatching. I knew you wouldn’t want an audience—that’s why I brought us here instead of staying on campus.”
Jassyn readjusted his white magus leathers, dismayed that it would take weeks to get this new set pliable. But if a destroyed uniform and spending more time with the prince was the price of losing dependence on the dust, the bill came in much lower than he’d expected. Though Vesryn undoubtedly would collect interest on the debt with whatever “training” he had in store.
The sun skimmed the mountain peaks, warming Jassyn’s skin and frying his nerves. He took one hesitant step from the grass into the training field before obstinacy claimed him. “I was throwing up yesterday.” He crossed his arms. “I’m not sure this is the best idea.”
“You’ll be fine,” Vesryn said, waving off his concern, obviously determined to outmatch his stubbornness. The prince pulled an arm tight across his chest, stretching. “Sweating out the residual Stardust hardly compares to what you’ve already been through.” Tugging off his ragged boots and socks, the prince sent them sailing to the edge of the ring with a tendril of force. “Take off your shoes.”
Shoulders slumping in defeat, Jassyn let the argument drop. Bickering would only prolong the inevitable and he might as well get this over with. Judging from what he’d heard of Serenna’s “lessons” with the prince, he expected that his cousin would have something ludicrous planned.
Like a wolf greedily defending a kill, Vesryn wasn’t likely to slacken his hold now that Jassyn had consented to participating.How did I let him talk me into this?
After peeling off his footwear, Jassyn joined the prince in the ring, feet sinking into the gritty sand.Vesryn will probably throw me around and say it’s for my own good.
He hadn’t made a habit of setting foot in the practice yards at Centarya beyond the required magus training that Vesryn had implemented at the start of the spring term. Exercise wasn’tat the forefront of his mind—he was more comfortable diving into research.
Logically, Jassyn could recognize the practicality of honing skills and training for combat. He reflexively touched the scabs scored in his flesh by that elven wraith’s gauntlet.I was useless when I was pinned by my throat.Perhaps that was why he’d agreed—he’d had enough of being at the mercy of others.
“Since you’re not carrying any bulk around, I imagine you’ll be quick on your feet,” Vesryn said, stretching out his other arm behind his head. “But you’ll need to develop coordination for that. Find your balance,” he commanded, demonstrating by standing on one foot, kicking his other knee in front of him at an angle.
Jassyn copied the prince, wobbling shortly after holding the position. Teetering and shifting his weight, he found maintaining the pose only became more difficult as the seconds ticked by. Before Jassyn knew it, sweat plastered his curls to his forehead.
“How long are we going to do this?” Jassyn gritted out, muscles trembling in earnest.
Vesryn’s arched brow suggested his protest was dramatic.
The next half hour didn’t offer any respite while the prince ran him through a series of contorting stretches that appeared much simpler when performed by his cousin. Frustration spiked through Jassyn as he tried to copy the forms, his new set of stiff armor hindering his movements.If I would’ve changed into that cashmere he was waving around, my best leathers wouldn’t be dismantled.Anchoring his feet in the sand, Jassyn brought himself back to the moment, tracking time with his heartbeats.
“Summon your power and connect your magic to your body’s motion,” Vesryn instructed, circling him. He used his toes to nudge Jassyn’s foot back, correcting his stance. “Make your pretty lights dance or something.”
Legs shaking in protest from balancing, Jassyn channeled hisawareness to his Well—replenished by the prince that morning. Tonight, he’d be able to regenerate on his own when the stars bloomed. For the first time in weeks, Jassyn effortlessly seized Essence while Vesryn drifted a few paces away.
A current of magic raced through his veins, saturating him with a clarity and harmony that he hadn’t realized Stardust had deprived him of while he’d spent the past few weeks living in a haze. Thoughts abruptly lurching back to the drug, Jassyn wrestled with his mind, dragging in a slow breath and releasing his desire for it on the exhale.
Refocusing on his magic and recentering his swaying body, Jassyn raised his palms. Power fountained from his Well, spinning as a glittering stream of Essence around his fingertips. Bending the power into his illumination talent, he summoned a dozen hovering orbs of white light. Flicking his wrist, the shimmering globes went whirling over Vesryn’s shoulder.
A shift in the breeze stirred his curls, offering some relief from his body heating with exertion. Senses tingling as his skin pebbled, Jassyn jerked his attention away from the wind. He blinked against the sunlight cresting the mountains, pointedly ignoring the unusual sensation.
I need to determine what that earthen power was before I accidentally call roots out of the ground again. Or do something worse that I can’t control.
The prince looped back in front of him. “Can you believe that even after the attack, the council is still insisting on holding that ridiculous tournament?”
Jassyn swayed, the question dragging him out of his thoughts. The burning in his legs rushed back to the forefront of his awareness. Stumbling, he caught himself before toppling over, abandoning the balancing stance by planting both feet on the ground. Vesryn didn’t correct him, seeming too absorbed as he tilted his head, waiting for Jassyn’s reply.
“Of course they are,” Jassyn scoffed, yanking in air to evenout his breathing. It was no surprise that the realm still expected the recruits to bloody each other for the capital’s entertainment. “Like that’s where our priorities should be.”
“I was the only vote against the competition—it was the majority of the council’s idea, not mine,” Vesryn said almost defensively, kicking at a clump of sand. “You mentioned the magus…respected me.” The prince considered him while fiddling with a frayed thread on his armor’s dragon sigil. “Where do you think their loyalties lie?”
Jassyn’s response was automatic, a conditioned response for preservation. “To the council.” He narrowed his eyes on the prince, suddenly unsure of what Vesryn wanted from him. “What other choice is there?”
Vesryn seemingly agreed with a grunt but didn’t offer any further words. Crossing his arms, the prince drummed his fingers. His attention flicked to one of Jassyn’s drifting globes, as if recalling their training.
A pressure vibrated through the ring as Vesryn’s magic ignited. Shadows rose around the prince like fog. He sliced through a few of Jassyn’s shining orbs with a tendril of rending, extinguishing their light.
Jassyn wiped away the sweat beading on his forehead. Drawing in a steadying breath, he flexed his hands, concentrating on keeping the illumination out of the prince’s reach.
Feet stirring sand, Vesryn started pacing as his shadows spiraled around them. “Do you think the magus would stand with me if the council attempted to put someone else in command?”
