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“Nothing dangerous, or…or defiant,” said Jasmine anxiously. “We just want to practice our power. And it’s…well,” she looked apologetic, “fun, to be honest. Experimenting with our magic like this, together.”
A slight frown creased Heath’s forehead as he looked at his cousin. Her guilty demeanor brought home how truly wrong their situation was. Why should she be apologizing for enjoying her magic?
“You know how this will look,” he said quietly, addressing himself to Bianca. “Particularly now, while everyone is so sensitive to magic.”
“Everyone is always sensitive to magic,” she said seriously. “If we’re going to hone our craft, learn how best to control and apply it, we have to be able to use it. And with all of us here for the Winter Solstice Festival, it’s a rare opportunity to try our powers in combination.” She met his eye unblinkingly. “It was our experiences on our visit to, uh, Bexley Manor that gave me the idea. I realized how little I’d really experimented with my power before.”
Heath frowned at her, at a loss for how to respond. Clearly this was what his grandmother had meant by him not knowing what he’d started when he asked for Bianca’s help on his voyage. So the elderly princess must know about these meetings as well. And even she hadn’t told him.
The trouble was, Bianca was right. He glanced around the frozen meadow, dotted with the bright colors of Brody’s flowers. Bianca had used wind to push a snow drift up to an unlikely height, and before she’d spotted him, Jasmine had begun sculpting it, even while laughing at the others’ antics. At present it was a shapeless mass, topped with the half-molded head of a dragon.
It was impressive. Beautiful, even. And it was exactly where Heath would like to be. But he couldn’t shake the image of Prince Lachlan’s earnest face, as the prince said that successfully integrating power-wielders was essential to Valoria’s future. And here they all were, hiding away to practice their magic.
“It’s not like what we’re doing is illegal,” Brody said defensively.
Heath gave him a look. “You’re going to pretend you’re not trying to hide this?”
“You should be glad we’re hiding it,” Percival cut in angrily. “I thought it was your rule that we’re not supposed to be openly defying the crown.”
Heath sighed, exasperated. He didn’t even grace his brother’s words with a response, instead turning again to Bianca. “This is exactly the sort of thing that will make the court afraid of us. They’ll think the power-wielders are conspiring in secret, figuring out how to combine powers to take control or something.”
“Maybe it’s not so bad for them to feel afraid,” muttered Percival.
Heath shot him a warning look, as Max said, “They’ll only think that if they find out about what we’re doing.”
For a moment Heath blinked in confusion at his young cousin’s hopeful, anxious face. Then Max’s meaning hit him, and he felt another stab of hurt pass through him.
“I’m not going to report this to anyone! I can’t believe you think I would.”
“That’s a relief,” said Max brightly, apparently oblivious to Heath’s tone. He turned back to the clearing. “What do you want to try? What if Bianca sends one of these flowers up as high as she can, and then you can try to hit it with…oh, you didn’t bring your bow and arrow. Well, I’m sure we can think of something!”
Heath was barely listening to his cousin’s chatter, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions within him.
“You look cold, Heath,” said a kind voice. Leonora, Jasmine’s younger sister, stepped up to him. “Let me help.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and wrinkled her nose in concentration. Immediately, the air around Heath heated up significantly, enough that the snow melted a little under his boots.
“You’ve gotten so much stronger!” he said, amazed.
She nodded, smiling shyly. “I’ve been practicing. I can control temperature pretty reliably now. I can make it hotter or colder, although still only a small area.”
Heath stared at her, the struggle continuing inside him. Five hopeful faces were turned to him—Percival’s still looked a bit mulish—and he wavered. It would be such a relief to forget caution, forget duty, to tell them all the truth of his developing powers, and let them help him push the boundaries of his magic. But a voice of caution in his mind told him that he was walking along a precipice, and if he threw himself down one edge, there would be no recovering the peak. He was exhausted by balancing on the line, but he wasn’t confident he wanted to fall into either gully.
Before he could say a word, before he’d decided what to say, his vision flickered. He gasped, and suddenly he saw Merletta’s face, as clearly as he saw his cousins in front of him. Her expression was satisfied, and she was swimming with determination. Heath caught a flash of coral as she darted past it. She wasn’t in her underwater city. She must be heading for Vazula.
For a moment Heath just blinked stupidly. He hadn’t even been consciously trying to see Merletta, but the image had been so clear. He had to get to Vazula—he couldn’t bear to think of her going there to see him, and finding the place deserted. But he couldn’t get there in time, not without Reka’s help.
As soon as he thought the dragon’s name, another image flashed before his mind.
“Rekavidur,” he gasped, once again thrown by the clarity of his sight.
The dragon was sitting at the very pinnacle of a rocky slope, presumably on Wyvern Islands somewhere. Heath could almost feel the thinness of the air through their connection. But as soon as Heath spoke the dragon’s name, Rekavidur turned his head sharply to the side. Heath was sure he was looking southwest, toward Heath’s location.
“Rekavidur,” Heath breathed again, his grandmother’s words in his mind. “I need you.” He made no attempt to reason with his friend, to persuade or reassure. He just let his emotion sound in the three simple words.
For a moment Heath stared into the dragon’s eyes, and almost caught his breath at the familiarity of their expression. They may be of different species, but the two friends were fighting the same internal battle. He could read the anguish of divided loyalty on Reka’s face.
Then, with an abruptness that made Heath jump, many miles away, Rekavidur dropped from the pinnacle like a stone, snapping out his wings and catching the wind as he fell. Within moments he had reached the impossible speed of dragons, and his features were nothing but a blur. Still, the image didn’t fade. Heath had to forcefully wrest his mind away from the dragon’s surroundings, to return to the snowy meadow where his cousins were all staring at him, mouths wide.
“What was that?” Brody demanded. “What just happened?”
