Page 120 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

Mountain peaks came into view, jagged and sharp, topped with the faintest hints of ice. The Mist was thin here, allowing Kora to gauge the highest of the peaks within the stretch, a singular line of mountains down the centre of Galen. Her arms tightened around Raiden’s neck as she craned out to look down.

“Brave of you,” he murmured with a small chuckle.

Kora squeaked as the earth disappeared below, the tops of the tallest trees barely visible through the Mist, lingering like a grey sea, filled with snaking shadows. Raiden swooped, circling around the biggest peak twice as Kora desperately tried to absorb the landscape of Galen.

“This is amazing!” Kora laughed as Raiden slowly descended to the mountain.

“Close your eyes,” Raiden whispered in her ear, his voice sending delicate shivers across her skin. Kora instantly shut them, squeezing tight as Raiden’s feet thudded onto the ground. A breeze picked up, and a sweet aroma filled the air.

“Open up, Huntress.” The purr from Raiden made Kora bite her bottom lip viciously, the tones of his voice dripping like thick honey. She opened her eyes, blinking against the strange light.

Pink, purple, and green tones weaved through the sky. The Mist was absent here, and Kora spun around as the aurora in the sky flowed, the lights dancing despite the setting sun in the distance. Raiden reached up, his hand brushing through it, and a current rippled, all the way to beyond the observable sky.

Flowers surrounded them in an ocean of violet. Petals attached to thick stalks lined with spikes. Yet, Raiden walked through the field of flowers, his power so visible individual diamonds circled his body, weaving into his thick hair. As he turned to face Kora, her heart thudded at the aurora sparkling in his reflective irises. His brown skin shone, imbued with magic, and she faltered, almost collapsing to her knees.

He was truly a prince. A prince of magic.

He laughed at the aurora, his power entwining up into it, phantom currents playing with the lights.

No . . . he was a prince of the phantom sky. Kora couldn’t deny it as his power seamlessly blended with the twirling lights, his body shining from his gods-blessed core. It was how she imagined his essence—vibrant, free, and all the reflections of a diamond in the sun.

“What . . .” Kora breathed, tentatively stepping into the purple meadow. The grey, icy peak was to her back, this small clearing enclosed with ridges and boulders, before dropping ahead, where a clear pass lay in the middle of the Horrow Mountains.

“Welcome to the Aurora Gap.” Raiden raised his arms, his power flaring. “Our closest point to Haizea. We come once a year to honour her, when spring arrives. But some come to leave her offerings in thanks at any time.” Raiden pointed to a flat boulder in the centre of the meadow. Words had been carved into it, flowers, ornaments, sketches, and clothing left behind.

But no bits, or coins, nor weapons. Only things of sentimental value.

“I can see your magic,” Kora whispered in awe. She could feel the energy the closer she approached Raiden in the heart of the meadow. The smallest jolt in her core lifted her hopes, and her fingers flexed automatically, seeking her elemental power.

“This is a sacred place. One still connected to the gods. It amplifies our gifts, enough for any elemental to be easily identifiable.” Raiden’s winds curled around Kora’s waist, tugging her closer and her heart practically jumped into her throat, a small smile playing with her lips.

Yet, nothing thrummed from her body. No blue glow, no trails of water, or growls of power.

“My power is lost. Nothing’s happening.”

“There’s another reason I brought you here,” Raiden nodded to the flowers. “This is iridweed, it has intense properties that can be beneficial for a mage.”

“Wait—what!” Kora stooped to the flowers, inspecting them. They had that same purple sheen to them that she’d seen in users’ eyes. The same vibrancy as the powder on Cannon’s ship. This is where it had come from. Someone had smuggled it out of Galen.

“This is a drug,” Kora countered, facing Raiden. “You brought me here to get high?”

He arched a brow. “You know of iridweed?”

“Yes! It’s in Aldara! Humans smoke it in the islands as an opioid.” Kora stepped back.

“No, it’s a magical conduit. Iridweed was one of Haizea’s final blessings before the gods faded. It’s used in ceremonies to connect to the gods, and can help channel a mage’s power in dire circumstances. It can be deadly to humans.” He rubbed his jaw, glancing around the meadow with narrowed eyes. “It only grows here, it’s impossible for it to be anywhere else.”

“Well, I can tell you, humans have been using it for years. Somehow, someone smuggled some of it out before the Mist. It’s sold as a powder to be smoked . . . or snorted.”

Raiden’s vibrancy shuddered, a shadow lurking within his light, and his jaw ground as he inspected the field. “We’ll save that for later. Right now, we’re going to use it to boost your magic again.” Raiden plucked several petals, and revealed a mortar and pestle from his pack to crush them with.

“I’m not doing drugs!” Kora folded her arms. “Not with you, anyway.”

Raiden paused mid-crush. “Oh? And who would you do this with? Your skildaj?” Bitterness oozed from Aryn’s title. So, it was bothering him, then.

“I’m as mad about that as you are.”

“I was mad the first time,” Raiden muttered. “You knew the consequences to the Tvinnr Fyr and still chose Aryn. This time around, you had no idea about it.”