The prince retrieved a bottle of Jassyn’s preferred sweet red blend. Flaring Essence, Vesryn popped the cork with a tug of force. Apparently not having packed glasses either, he floated Jassyn the entire bottle. With a sigh, Jassyn grabbed the wine, taking a drink before placing it in the grass. Frowning, he glanced toward the prince.
“Aren’t you supposed to…” Jassyn trailed off, pursing his lips as Vesryn shoveled slices of beef into his mouth. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Kyansari?”
“Probably,” Vesryn said around the food.
Napkins and utensils were absent, not surprising Jassyn in the least that the prince had also deemed those unnecessary. Succumbing to getting his hands dirty, he folded a sliver of cured veal in half, wedging a cheese square into the pocket.
Jassyn gazed out over the rolling expanse as the first stars bloomed across the sky. He hesitantly asked, “I thought you had to attend your engagement ceremony tonight?”
“Fuck that.” The prince scoffed, peeling off his boots and socks. “I’ve already done enough where thatobligationis concerned.”
Jassyn cringed as his cousin took more than one continuous swallow from the flask without even flinching.Vesryn has already crossed the line for decades. Open defiance like this…
Worry still nagged at him, preventing Jassyn from dropping the matter. “But surely the king won’t tolerate it if you disregard the royal pairing.”
“Do you think I care?” Vesryn glared a challenge at him, halting Jassyn’s counter. “What do you think he’ll do? Coerce me to his will? Turn me into a wraith? I don’t know what to do about the capital yet, but I’m not going back.” Vesryn idly picked at a sliver of wood on the basket, studying the adjacent stream shattering against the rocks. “If he’s responsible for the deaths of my mother and brother…”
A sharp sting of sorrow collided with Jassyn’s chest. Dulling himself, he took another sip of the sweet raspberry vintage. Neither of them had any guesses as to what had truly transpired during the first attack on the palace—if “attack” was even the right word.
A victim of curiosity, Jassyn asked, “Do you think the king is somehow absorbing Essence if he’s the one turning elves into wraith?” He swallowed more wine. “You’ve also noticed how his strength has increased over the years. That shouldn’t be possible.”
Vesryn dodged the question, growling, “I’m tired of this pointless speculation.” His knuckles blanched around the flask. “We won’t know anything else until you can unravel the rest of the coercion on Thalaesyn.”
Jassyn had nearly untangled the web of magic on his mentor, unlocking the answers in the magister’s head. Thalaesyn had insisted that Jassyn spend more time focusing on the wraith, rather than on him—what he knew wouldn’t change anything anyway.
“But how do you think all of this started?” Jassyn pushed. “Magister Thalaesyn said it was his fault, but surely he didn’t set out to create monsters.”
“Can we talk about something else?” The prince scowled, jabbing a finger at Jassyn, railing on. “How about we discusswhyyouaren’t at the palace tonight. I figured you would’ve received no less than fifty invitations.”
Jassyn clicked his teeth shut, the reminder cutting like a blade. The nobles apparently hadn’t abandoned the notion that he’d be amenable to joining the courts.
“I stopped counting after seventy-three,” he mumbled, scoring his boot heels into the ground, not appreciating Vesryn flipping the uncomfortable topic onto him.
Vesryn fiddled with the laces on his tunic, eyes fixed on the western horizon. “Speaking of the capital, I want to transfer Thalaesyn and the wraith somewhere else. Somewhere hidden. If any of the rangers are compromised and alert my sire…” Vesryn clenched his jaw, picking stones out of the ground. “I want the entire story first before we even consider what comes next.”
“Where are you thinking?” Jassyn took a sip of wine, contemplating the prince’s uncharacteristic logic. “Between Elashor’s soldiers and the possibility of that wraith army returning, I’m not sure Centarya is much safer.”
“I know a place. I’m confident in its security.” Drawing his arm back, Vesryn skipped a pebble out onto the lake. “There’s an unusual jungle in the Hibernal Wastes—an ancient city, long abandoned.” He bounced another rock in his palm before tossing it into the water. “Aesar and I discovered it. As far as I know, no one else knows about it.”
Jassyn frowned, unsure how ajunglecould exist in the middle of the endless frozen mountains, but he had more pressing concerns to address. “I worry those with shaman blood might be in danger as well.”
Anticipating Vesryn would insist that he practice with his elemental power now that he’d brought it up—even in the middle of their makeshift dinner—Jassyn cast his awareness out to his surroundings. An ocean of energy hummed under his skin, a sensation that still wasn’t quite familiar. Attuninghimself to the stream, a pressure of power blossomed in Jassyn’s chest. He twisted his wrist, hauling out a globe of water.
“Maybe we could bring those from Centarya to the jungle at some point,” Vesryn said. With a pulse of Essence, he ignited dim illumination, sending the lights whirling around them. “Do you have any theories on why you’re the only one who’s manifested those elemental powers?”
It was a question Jassyn had reflected on multiple times. “I think it was because of the Stardust.” The admission didn’t gut him like it used to. Curling his fingers, he shifted the shape of the water, stretching the liquid out like a serpent. “I couldn’t channel Essence effectively because of the dust’s interference. And I sensed the earth’s magic when…” When he’d thought someone was going to die. Jassyn blinked at the water spinning around his hands, guilt furrowing his brow. “When I was desperate and out of options.”
“Maybe those with Essence haven’t noticed that the other power is there waiting.” Vesryn tracked the liquid winding around Jassyn’s hands. “But we have no way of knowing who might share the same abilities as you—Nelya and your ring of magus haven’t noticed anything unusual on campus.”
I could be the only person aside from the king and the Vallendes who are aware of the others.Jassyn glanced away, dragging his hand through his curls. He sighed, knowing he shouldn’t have kept the knowledge to himself this long. He still hadn’t informed the prince of Serenna’s shaman ancestry—but that was her secret to tell.
“I…may have some insight on that,” Jassyn admitted. Flattening his palm, he formed the water into an orb again before pitching it all the way to the lake. “There are books in Farine’s estate.” He blinked, realizing his words were slurred. Surely that was only hesitation thickening in his throat. Jassyn squinted, examining the empty bottle against Vesryn’s illumination, unable to recall drinking every last drop.
“Books?” Vesryn thumbed his lower lip. “I can get you books. My mother’s library has been sealed off since… Well since she’s been gone, but there isn’t a finer collection.” He idly plucked at the grasses near his feet, shucking seeds from tassels. “The archivists were able to restore most of the volumes my sire destroyed.”
Jassyn shook his head. “No, I need Fynlas’ research—he tracked shaman bloodlines and his notes might shed light on what the king intends.”
Vesryn’s face hardened like the surrounding boulders. “And it would tell us who could be in danger.” He drank again from the flask before scowling up at the rising moons.
