“We really should,” Vana says politely, joining them. The table is large enough for a dozen people, but the three of them sit together at the end not covered with several dozen artistic candlesticks.
Breakfast is fruit and pork pastries, the golden Hestal wine reserved for Vana and Aliza. Kazia isn’t fast enough to pour himself a glass before Aliza removes the bottle from his hand. Vana hadn’t expected Kazia to be here, but he doesn’t want to delay this conversation. There’s no harm in Kazia listening; it won’t be the truth, anyway.
“Are you still studying scalestone with Lord Radovan?” Vana asks as the meal draws to a close.
Aliza lights up. “Yes! We’ve used it for so many things, for so many centuries, but we still don’t properlyunderstandit. I believe we could do so much more with it, if we just asked the right questions.”
Out of her sightline, Kazia rolls his eyes and snags another pastry.
Not everything that could be done with scalestone might be a good thing to do. But Vana isn’t here for an ethical debate today. “Is there any research about scalestone affecting magical bonds? I’ve been struggling to scry through my featherglass, and the connection with my dreamhawk might be the problem.”
“That’s a good question.” Aliza taps the table in thought. “Scalestone strengthens all sorts of spells. Radovan has been compiling his studies of grail bonds from different regions of Draskora. He can’t experiment directly on people, of course. If only he was born a century ago! But the case studies are fascinating enough.”
Vana is grateful for previous monarchs’ legal foresight. “That does sound fascinating.”
Aliza pours herself another glass of Hestal gold. Diamonds glitter at her wrists. “There’s definitely a correlation between high-scalestone regions and more efficient magic transfer from grails to their masters. The numbers are fuzzy, since it’s difficult to tell precisely how much power a grail can generate. That’s more an art than a science. And Radovan hasn’t found any correlation between scalestone and the raw strength of grails in that region. Just how well another mage can draw that magic.”
“Fascinating,” Vana says again.
“Of course, our sample size is small,” Aliza says. “I can get you copies of Radovan’s findings if you want.”
“If it’s no trouble,” Vana says. “I’m not particularly interested in grails, though.”
Aliza waves her hand. “You’re asking about your dreamhawk. Right, I do go off on tangents. I imagine scalestone would improve that connection, but it would take prolonged exposure. Particularly since dreamhawks roost in scalestone-heavy regions anyway. Years and years of more intense exposure, and even longer if it’s only intermittent. Perhaps it would go faster if you ingested scalestone, but I wouldn’t recommend that.”
Vana suppresses a wince. Mages do strange things for power, but eating scalestone sounds deranged. “It’s not urgent. I was just curious since I’ve been having limited success with the featherglass.”
Aliza sets her glass aside. “It’s probably faster just to do whatever the falconers recommend. You already know that sort of thing better than I do.”
“Meditation. Got it,” Vana says.
Not long after, Aliza makes her excuses and tells them to see themselves out. She grabs a metal instrument from a tower of books before vanishing into another room. Vana sets his glass down as Kazia stretches across the table for the half-empty wine bottle.
“You’re still here?” Kazia says, filling his glass nearly to the brim. “Mother was clearly dismissing you.”
Vana would love to leave—except his beloved, dismaying bloodguard waits outside. And this is a good opportunity to dig into another problem. “As you said, we so rarely spend time together, dear brother.”
“Fuck off.”
Vana takes the bottle and pours himself the remainder. “When did you play aerie with Rakos Tem?”
Kazia’s glass pauses at his lips. “Oh, that. I don’t remember exactly. Maybe a year before you unchained him from Petir Bernek’s dungeon?”
Vana’s heart stumbles so hard, he wonders that Daromir doesn’t rush in at the pain. Kazia shouldn’t know that. This accusation is so much worse than Petir’s questions at the banquet. This is specific. Accurate. It’s also impossible, unless one of Vana’s closest drasgard is a traitor.
Vana underestimated Kazia. Time to find out just how deadly his mistake is. Strangely, as the seconds tick past, Vana’s fear ebbs. His mind rebalances. This is a far easier problem than the memory of Daromir’s phantom touch.
“What do you want, Kazia?” Vana doesn’t bother denying the accusation, but best not to confirm it either, in case someone else is listening.
“What do I want?” Kazia asks. “I suppose I should blackmail you, shouldn’t I?”
Great. Kazia doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s a mess of spite and half-baked schemes without a plan. Chaotic avarice. And with this information, he could destroy Vana on a fleeting whim.
“Did somebody put you up to this?” Vana asks.
“No, this is our little secret.” Kazia sets his glass down and stands up. “Isn’t it nice to share? Mother would be so proud.”
Aliza, perhaps not. But Imrik would certainly be proud of Kazia for revealing Vana’s treason. There’s a reason Kazia is telling Vana instead of going directly to Imrik. Vana wouldn’t bet on brotherly affection.
