Page 121 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

Something hidden laced Raiden’s words. Had he offered the bond to her in the past?

“I never seem to have any idea. I’m sick of being kept in the dark.”

Raiden met her gaze. “Then stay in the light with me.”

Kora smiled tentatively, nodding as she trailed through the meadow, breathing in the sweet aromas. In its original form, iridweed was beautiful. Reflecting the aurora above, surrounded by pearlescent clouds and deepening lavender skies, peace had been imbued into every inch of this place. The peaks of the mountains glistened, tiny speckles of pyrite within the crusted grey of the rock. Whenever the aurora rippled, brushing the very tip of the sharp peak, a pink shimmer emitted, reminding Kora of Agatha’s love potions.

“How come you didn’t try iridweed on me the first time?”

Raiden tapped the stoned pestle on the side of the bowl. “It’s ceremonial, and not a shortcut to power. It shouldn’t be used as it is in Aldara. Even for mages, unreasonable consumption can be addicting. It’s euphoric for us, almost transcendent. I can’t imagine how humans are managing it. They must be out of their fucking minds.”

“Something like that,” Kora murmured as she paced around, observing the Devanian language etched into the large boulder. Its top was polished smooth, and she picked up a parchment with a charcoal drawing, the paper still fresh and clean, and wholly familiar. “Is this me?”

Kora rotated, holding up the small parchment to Raiden. His cheeks blushed lightly as he took it from her, his thumb gliding over the expert shading. She’d seen this face once before, Kordelia’s long hair covering half her face within a gust of wind. She had been all angles, sharp and stern, nothing like her rounded face now.

“Skylar brought this up here for me last spring,” Raiden said. “I wanted to see if I could still remember you clearly. But . . . things were fragmenting. Not your features, but the way you were.”

“You’re very talented,” Kora knelt beside him. “Perhaps you can draw me again another time. As I am now.”

Raiden smiled saccharinely. “A talent my father isn’t impressed by.”

“Well, you have my seal of approval. Even if you’re trying to drug me.”

“It’s ceremonial,” Raiden repeated, pouring the powdered petals into a larger container.

“So, there are runes, iridweed, and velesmas to channel magic. Seems like . . . a lot. Were Devanians not happy with their gifts?” Kora motioned to the Mist, her brows raising. All this power, the endless history of magic infused into every root, every blade of grass, every drop of the ocean in the Azarian Islands, and yet it wasn’t enough.

Raiden grunted. “Velesmas were made for mankind’s greed. They were never supposed to exist. Runes originated a few hundred years after the gods, and iridweed was a gift. Magic should never be this easily attainable or potent.”

“You’ve got that right.” Kora rubbed her arms. Her magic had been hard to wield and keep. As Raiden set up a firepit, she sighed. If these simple things didn’t exist, perhaps the world would’ve already been in peace.

52

Kora

Kora couldn’t stop staring at the iridweed meadow.

It glowed. As soon as the sun dipped behind the horizon and darkness smothered the sky, the meadow came to life. Individual fibres of the iridweed petals pulsated with a lavender glow, like tiny intricate veins, whilst the aurora lights basked Kora and Raiden, brandishing their skin pink.

It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

Raiden set the crushed petals to simmer over a small existing firepit, occasionally stirring the liquid as they nibbled their rations. Kora was delighted to find her favoured tarts packed for the journey, and wolfed hers down without a care.

Raiden watched every movement, his stare darkening so deeply when she licked her fingers that Kora squirmed, glancing away before the fire within consumed her in an inferno. This gods-damned male.

Dark stones lined the firepit, each one engraved with a rune, and painted in shimmering opal.

“What do these runes mean?” Her lessons with Aerion had only consisted of runes associated with channelling and combat. She knew the basics such as a shield, to make her weapon stronger against a foe’s attack, and adding specific elemental runes meant the wielder’s power would channel into the weapon, enhancing it in the way their power manifested.

“It’s the order of the ritual to honour Haizea.” Raiden pointed to the stone nearest to him. “This means community, it connects individuals spiritually. We drink from the waters that flow up into the mountains, and then this next symbol is amplification. Like Skylar’s gift. So Haizea may hear us.”

The rivers between Windspire Castle and the Horrow Mountains were otherworldly. Even now, a faint trickle filled the ambience of the peaks, a soothing flow of water. The gravity-defying waters here were crystal clear, enough for Kora to spot tiny fish and algae on their way up to the mountains.

Kora followed the stones, shifting closer to Raiden to peer at the runes on his side of the firepit. He tensed, his right hand splaying on the meadow between them. She’d never noticed how rough they were, small scars lining his fingers and knuckles, similar to her own.

“That’s the symbol for air,” she observed quietly with a small sliver of pride, leaning to point at the next rune, acutely aware of how close they were.

Raiden’s voice caught. “Yes, well done. Turns out my brother can teach. That’s so we may connect with Haizea only, and not accidentally a different god.”