“Thanks,” she said dryly.
I gave her a look. “You’re talented, Bree, but you’re also eighteen and not exactly a discipline head.”
“Maybe one day they’ll have an energy discipline, and I could be the head of that.”
“I would vote for you,” I said distractedly. “If either of us were actually Kallorwegian, that is.”
“So, can you do an energy working?” she asked. “Can you speak it, or would you need to write it down?”
I frowned. “I could try speaking it. I’ve seen the words you write often enough.” Even if I hadn’t already been familiar with them, my access to her energy made them leap into my mind.
I spoke aloud, my words faltering and stopping halfway through the composition. “It’s not doing anything.” My hand clenched involuntarily, as if it gripped a pen. “I think I need to write it.”
She pushed me back toward the desk. “Go on. Try it.”
I sat down and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment. Biting my lip, I hesitated for only a moment before I began to write. Immediately I could feel some of her energy pour into the composition. I modified my intended words, keeping the drain on her light, and finished quickly.
When I wrote the last words, I looked up at her expectantly. She had a wrinkled nose and thoughtful expression.
“I felt that.”
“What did it feel like?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Like a drain of energy. I don’t mean that I felt your working, as such. I just felt the energy pulling out of me. But it’s different for me because the working itself is one to drain energy, and I’m much more tuned to energy in general than a power mage is. I can well imagine they might not feel a thing. Although if you did a strong enough working, they’d likely feel the exhaustion afterward.”
“Here.” I thrust the completed composition into her hand. “Take it back.”
She didn’t argue, ripping the composition and letting her energy flood back to its rightful owner.
My usual senses would have felt the sudden increase in her levels, but being connected to her, I could feel it much more strongly. The sensation reminded me I should pull away now we had completed the experiment.
I opened my mouth to speak the necessary word and hesitated. Her ability to gift energy had been easy to access, the full scope of it so familiar to me. But something else lurked behind it. Something far less familiar—to both her and me. As soon as I fastened onto it with my mind, my awareness expanded.
Gifting energy wasn’t Bryony’s only ability. I tried not to think about her second, secret one because the thought of it had always made me nervous, afraid for her and her future. I could see it clearly now, though.
It had been partially hidden at first because she herself had never used it, never trained it or honed it or studied it. In fact, I suspected she tried as hard as me not to think of it at all. But she obviously knew how it worked because I saw exactly how she could permanently shear off a portion of her energy, and how she could shape that energy to bring life to the most hopeless of cases.
With certainty, I knew I could compose such a composition right now, the words coming as easily as they had done for the first working. If I put my pen against a fresh parchment, I could permanently steal some of her energy.
“End,” I gasped, cutting our connection.
“What is it?” Bryony looked at me with concern. “You look white.”
“I could access both of your abilities, Bree.” My voice shook. “And I could have used the other one just as easily as I…”
She swallowed, staring at me before shaking herself.
“But you didn’t, and you never would.”
“No. I never would. I can promise you that. But still…Bree, I could have.”
Later in bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Ever-loyal Bryony might be willing to brush off my concern, but it wedged in my mind. Bryony’s ability was powerful enough, but how much more powerful for someone to be able to steal it from her without her permission.
Earlier in the year, I had nearly lost myself in the joy of delving into the workings of others. I had almost been consumed by my ability. And now I had discovered an even more powerful ability—and an even more direct connection into the power and expertise of others. How could I trust myself with it? If I started connecting with other mages directly, how soon before I lost myself?
I could come up with no satisfactory answers to those questions. I attended classes as usual, putting my full focus on studying for exams and refraining from even connecting with compositions. I was afraid that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to resist following the next step to connect with the mages themselves.
Bryony kept suggesting we practice again, reminding me she could work the composition I created to immediately return the energy I had taken from her, but I was resolute in my refusal. Since she had study of her own to do, she didn’t push too hard.
My thoughts about my new ability might not be positive, but I was glad to have them to distract me. Darius had disappeared directly after the Council meeting and had not yet returned. When I visited Duke Francis in his office, he explained that he had granted the new king-elect a leave of absence from the Academy to deal with matters in the capital and with the various discipline heads.
“He’s in great demand, as you can imagine,” the duke told me. “The next two years will not be easy for him as he balances his substantial new responsibilities with his role here as a trainee.” He gave me a look that was startlingly close to amusement. “It is fortunate that he is such a good student and so advanced in his skills.”
I held back a snort. After two years of private tutoring before his entry to the Academy, Darius had always been in greater danger of expiring from boredom than failing his exams—no matter how many classes he missed.
“He will be back before long,” the duke said with dismissal in his voice. “The year is drawing to a close and exams will soon be upon us.”
I had withdrawn after that, although I longed to press him on exactly what before long meant.
And as the days dragged on, the question burned stronger and stronger in my mind. When would Darius be back? After everything that had happened, and the conversation I had overheard between him and his father, I could barely contain my desperation to see him.
Jareth seemed equally restless, his eyes resting on me more often than they had before. What did he think of his brother’s new status, and of his subsequent absence? And what did he know of my involvement in the unfolding events? I avoided him, not curious enough about the answers to risk conversation with the younger prince. I still considered him the most likely Academy resident to be Cassius’s secret ally.
The final days of the year raced past, until one day I looked up in the dining hall to see a familiar tall figure striding toward the second year table.
Chapter 23
Exclamations and conversations broke out across the hall as everyone turned to the new arrival. Several of the fourth years stood and bowed to their new king-elect, and the rest of the trainees scrambled to rise and follow their lead. I gave him a shallow curtsy, beaming from the unexpected rush of emotion at seeing him again.
Darius smiled around at the standing trainees.
“Thank you all,” he said. “Your support means a lot. But I still have two more years as a trainee, so please—for all our sakes—you can go back to treating me as you did before.”
A smattering of chuckles sounded across the room, and the trainees returned to their seats. I watched him approach our table, stopped a number of times by senior trainees who wished to congratulate him in person.
He looked so achingly familiar and yet, at the same time, so strangely different. He could afford to tell the trainees to treat him as they had before because he had always been the crown prince, superior and aloof and receiving respect on all fronts. But this Darius looked relaxed and at ease, smiling and laughing even, as he accepted the well-wishes of his generation.
My own fear still lingered. I had seen his father’s face after Darius left that council room, and I knew he had a hidden ally still. But despite the sudden increase in responsibility, Darius looked free in a way he never had before. My heart rejoiced and feared for him at the same time.
I expected him to come to me, but he didn’t slow as he approached the spot where I sat with Bryony and Tyron. As he passed, however, he met my eyes, the expression on his face making me flush.
Later, his eyes seemed to say, and I instantly realized he was right. Whatever conversation was coming between us, it wasn’t one we could have in public.
I raced back to my suite after the meal, only to pace up and down as I realized he was likely to be delayed by the other trainees. At last a knock sounded on the tapestry door, however, and I flew over to fling it open.
At sight of him, I swept into a deep curtsy. “Your Majesty.”
“Not for another two years,” he reminded me. “I haven’t been crowned yet.”
“But you will be.”
He laughed and swept me into his arms, spinning me around before placing me carefully back on my feet.
“All thanks to you, Verene.”
I shook my head. “Don’t be ridiculous. I just got attacked. I can’t take credit for that. Zora is the one who spent years softening the duke, and Duke Francis himself is the one who called the Council meeting.”
I placed my hand on the side of his face. “And you’re the one who spent years building your position, winning allies, and proving your capability. You won your own crown, Darius.”
“And yet, none of it would have happened if you hadn’t been brave enough to come here to our Academy.”
“Was it bravery?” My eyes dropped from his. “Or foolhardy determination?”
So much had happened since I arrived two years ago that it was hard to think of the naive girl I’d been then without a measure of sorrow. I had always hated not having an ability, and yet everything had seemed so clear to past-Verene.
“Never doubt your bravery.” Darius’s soft voice matched the gentle touch of his hand on my chin, lifting my face back to his. “It was a fortunate day for Kallorway—and for me—when you crossed our borders.”
I flushed but couldn’t escape the pull of his eyes. His head moved slowly downward, and I pushed up to meet him. Our lips met with the softest of sighs.
Despite myself, I had spent far too many hours remembering our previous kiss, and the way its fire had consumed me. This embrace was different. This time his lips promised the enduring heat of embers, burning slow and long, but no less consuming all the same.
Then his arms swept around me and tightened, pulling me against him as he deepened the kiss. I responded, rising onto my toes, only for him to pull back and groan.
“Prince Darius.” The voice that had interrupted us came again.
I stepped out of his arms, looking frantically around for our audience, but could see no one. Slowly my attention focused on a ball of power in the middle of the room.
“A communication composition?” I asked.
He groaned again. “They won’t leave me alone.”
“Prince Darius?”
“Prince?” I asked with a smile, trying to suppress my disappointment at the interruption. “Don’t they know you’re king-elect now?”
“They appear to be well aware,” he said dryly, “since they now seem to have need of consulting me day and night. But it’s a bit of a mouthful. Most people seem to prefer to continue using my old title for now.”
I shook my head. “You’d better go. That working is burning power.”
He still looked reluctant, so I gave him a light push through the door. “We can finish our conversation later.”
Fire leaped into his eyes. “Is that a promise?”
I flushed. “If you like. Now go!”
He disappeared through the door with a last backward glance, and I closed it firmly behind him. My fingers crept to my lips which still tingled from his touch.
I had meant it when I said conversation. There was much for us to talk about. I didn’t know which official or discipline head had been calling him, but they had made a timely interruption. I could not afford to forget that this lighter, more open Darius was now responsible for an entire kingdom. He might still bear the title prince, but he was king-elect of Kallorway. And I was a princess of Ardann, with a secret too big for either kingdom. We were hardly free to follow wherever our emotions might lead us.
He fought in combat class the next morning as usual, although we weren’t paired. And he turned up to composition class as well, bringing sheaves of parchment with him—reports of some kind by the look of it. Our instructors addressed him with added respect, and none called him to task for his distraction. We didn’t speak, other than polite greetings, although his eyes apologized for his preoccupation. But I could only imagine the weight of work he now had before him.
I wasn’t the only one who failed to hold his attention. Jareth, sitting beside him, sent several poisonous glances at the reports that so absorbed his brother. Several times he spoke, making Darius chuckle, but each time, Darius returned promptly to his reports. When his brother’s eyes weren’t on him, Jareth’s expression turned sour, and when he looked up to see me watching him, his eyes flashed momentary anger before he smoothed the emotion away.
Darius wanted to change Kallorway which meant he was consumed with a task big enough to absorb all his time and attention. And even when he had not yet had the distraction of a crown, he had refused to consider that he might be harboring a traitor in his inmost circle. If I was right, and Jareth was working against him, then Darius was even less likely to see it now. But I couldn’t sit back and see all his efforts constantly thwarted. I would have to act to protect him myself.
I came to the conclusion during discipline class and was immediately filled with the desire to take action. Our small energy class had completed our final placement with the trainees studying to be seekers and were back in our original classroom. As soon as the bell sounded for the end of the lesson, I hurried out into the corridor, scanning the trainees who began to fill the hall from the other rooms.
The moment I spotted Jareth, I hurried in his direction.
“Verene,” he said in a tone of faint surprise when I appeared next to him.
“Jareth.” I nodded in greeting. “I would like to have a word with you, if you’re willing.”
He gestured with wide open eyes. “By all means.”
I shook my head. “Not now. In private. Could you come to my sitting room after the evening meal?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Consider me intrigued. I shall be there most certainly.”
“Good.”
I hurried away before he could ask me any questions, dropping back to walk beside Bryony. She also regarded me with a raised eyebrow.
“What was that about? Were you just voluntarily talking to Jareth?”
“I invited him to visit me this evening.”
“You what?” she squawked before lowering her voice. “Whatever for? Does Darius know?”
“Not unless Jareth tells him. I’m hoping he won’t.”
“You’re hoping he won’t…” She said the words slowly. “What exactly are you planning, Verene?”
“I’m going to prove to Darius once and for all that Jareth can’t be trusted.”
“And how exactly are you going to do that?” She sounded skeptical.
“I’m going to dangle the same bait I accidentally left out before and see if he bites twice.”
“Bait?” She gave me a disapproving look. “Do you mean yourself?”
“Ultimately. But to start I just mean the compositions I use to protect my door. I’m going to give him the chance to read them again and then see what happens. If I’m right, he’ll send another assassin, like he did last year. And this time, Darius won’t be able to deny it.”
“Then I’m sleeping in your room,” she said resolutel
y. “And don’t try to fight me on this.”
I smiled. “I was actually hoping you’d say that. I want to catch Jareth out, but I don’t have a death wish.”
She nodded approvingly. “And this time, after we’ve caught the assassin he sends, we’ll make sure you’re ready to intercept any deadly compositions that try to cut short the interrogation.”
I nodded. “I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
Bryony insisted on being in my suite for the initial meeting with Jareth as well, although she agreed to remain out of sight in my bedchamber. When his light knock sounded on the corridor door, I opened it unhurriedly and gestured him inside, displaying a hint of awkward uncertainty.
“I must say your invitation took me by surprise, Princess,” Jareth said. “You seem to have been avoiding me of late.”
“You’re right, I have.”
He looked surprised by my open admission.
“But Darius has assured me I’ve been harboring the wrong impression about you,” I continued. “And given his triumphant return, I thought the time had come to mend matters. So I have something for you.”
“I assure you that isn’t necessary,” he said with his usual light smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Please humor me,” I said. “It’s just a token.” I looked around the sitting room. “Just give me a moment. I must have left it in my chamber.”
I left him alone in my sitting room, shutting my bedchamber door behind me. Bryony stood waiting, holding out a small sprig of green leaves with two small white tulips at their center. I took them from her and stood waiting for a moment, my head cocked.
“How long do you need to leave him?” Bryony whispered.
“As long as I can without seeming suspicious.” I grimaced. “So your guess is as good as mine.”
After another extended moment, I reopened the door, doing it as noisily and slowly as I could. Jareth had moved, now standing by one of the windows, right beside my desk. I carefully refrained from looking at the desk, although I wanted to analyze it for any sign of disturbance. This time I had left the top of the desk clear, but the stack of door compositions had been carefully placed in the top drawer.
Crown of Danger (The Hidden Mage Book 2) Page 22