Chapter 18
A n hour later, I knew I had no chance of defeating Rasimir.
I staggered backward, my throat on fire and a fierce headache pounding between my eyes. Vander rose from the bench we’d occupied my first time in the Everless, concern on his face as he started toward me.
“I’m fine,” I croaked, waving him off. He looked skeptical, but he sank back down.
“Try again,” Lorcan said, standing across the grass with his arms folded over his chest. His face was bored as he pointed to the palm-sized rock sitting on the ground halfway between us.
“ Laro. It means ‘light,’ and it’s the simplest word in the vor scapa .
Even children can say it. Picture a candle in your mind.
Then imagine its flame flowing from your head and into the rock. ”
He made it sound easy. And judging from the mix of disappointment and worry on Vander’s face, it should have been easy. Lorcan didn’t look worried. Disappointment, however, he had in spades.
Panting, I squared my shoulders. Sweat dampened my back.
We’d been “training” since we entered the Everless, and I hadn’t made any progress.
After an hour of trying to discover my root word, I was no closer to speaking the vor scapa than I’d been since I crossed the Feyline.
But I was a great deal closer to murdering Lorcan and dancing around his corpse.
“Today, if possible,” he said.
Fresh pain seared my throat when I swallowed, and my voice emerged as a hoarse rattle as I asked, “What’s the magic word for castration ?”
On the bench, Vander coughed and then rubbed a hand over his mouth.
Lorcan studied me. “I couldn’t say. If you’re looking to temporarily incapacitate an opponent, you could use olnava to stun them. For something permanent, the vor you want is uci , which means ‘kill’ or ‘death.’ Uci is one of just three vor s that can’t be reversed.”
I wiped sweat from my forehead. “What are the other two?”
“One means ‘truth.’ The other means ‘forget.’ Witches who wield the irreversible vor s as their root word are exceptionally powerful. And dangerous.”
Well. That obviously wasn’t me. “How do you reverse the other words?”
Vander frowned from the bench. “We don’t want to make things overly complicated right now.”
“Don’t coddle her,” Lorcan said, his eyes on me. “If she wants to speak the language of spellcasting, she can overcome a little confusion. Ignorance is just as dangerous as power.”
If the gods were just, my root word was going to be uci .
Vander must have read my intentions in my face because he stood, drawing my attention from Lorcan.
“This might not be as confusing as I thought.” He slowed his speech, his words careful and deliberate.
“As Lorcan said, just three vor s can’t be reversed: ‘death,’ ‘truth,’ and ‘forget.’ But everything else can be unmade.
Rix is the vor for reversal.” He brightened.
“The good news is that you don’t have to earn it.
You get it for free when you earn a vor .
But you can only reverse a vor you already possess. ”
I gathered my hair with both hands and held it away from my neck. “I get why ‘death’ can’t be reversed. But why are ‘truth’ and ‘forget’ permanent?”
Vander’s lips curved in a lazy smile. “You’ll have to ask the gods, my inquisitive one. I don’t make the rules.”
My nape heated. As memories of the previous night flooded me, I lowered my arms. When I looked at Lorcan, he watched me with the same cool detachment he normally wore. But was that a hint of anger in his eyes? Did he know Vander had come to my room?
He pointed to the rock. “ Laro . Try again. And this time, actually apply yourself.”
My temper flared. “Why don’t you show me how you do it?”
“I can’t.”
“But you said the word. You’ve used it the whole time we’ve been here.”
“Because he’s already earned it,” Vander said.
“Once you wield a vor , you can say it without risking rebound. That’s the suffocation you’re feeling.
Vor s require a specific gift to fuel them.
Without it, you burn yourself out. You need a spark.
” He spread his hands like he was weighing two objects.
“Think of it like putting flame to pitch.”
“More like flint to steel,” Lorcan murmured, his gaze on the rock in the grass.
Vander bristled. “It’s the same thing.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.”
I followed their conversation, my gaze darting between them. They’d been terse with each other since we entered the Everless. And like the rebound Vander mentioned, every exchange grew more fraught.
“Excellent,” Lorcan said, the T sound sharp as a knife. The look he gave Vander was just as pointed. “Are you finished?”
“No,” Vander said, his cheekbones touched with pink. But it wasn’t embarrassment. No, he was clearly nettled as he stepped away from the bench. “You can’t just throw her into spellcasting without giving her basic explanations.”
Lorcan tilted his head. “You stood at the king’s side last night. Did you not hear him say the wedding will take place in two weeks?” He smiled. “Perhaps you were distracted.”
“I’m aware of the timeline,” Vander said. “I simply find your training methods less than productive.”
A mocking light danced in Lorcan’s eyes. “We should all strive to be more productive.” He swept a hand toward me. “By all means, Captain, share your knowledge of the vor scapa with the princess. Perhaps your assistance will produce more fruitful results.”
My aching throat went dry. Lorcan knew. He had to.
“Gladly,” Vander snapped. Then he looked at me. “Some vor s are more powerful than others. And some are rare. It probably comes as no surprise that the rarest are also the most powerful. The witches duel for coveted vor s. It’s a type of magical combat.”
“I thought they shied away from battle,” I said. “They use the werewolves to fight for them.”
Vander nodded. “That’s true, but they’re not cowards.
Rasimir has drained so many witches, they flirt with extinction.
The werewolves don’t have that problem. They breed easily and turn humans with little effort.
The witches consider them expendable. Magical duels are different—and unavoidable if a witch wants more vor s.
They rip gifts from each other to gain more power. ”
“And the covens allow this?” I asked. It didn’t sound all that different from a vampire draining beings to death to steal magic.
Lorcan offered a mirthless laugh. “They encourage it. The witches aren’t that different from the vampires they despise.”
“With an important distinction,” Vander said. “The witches don’t kill when they duel. Although most witches who lose their root power wish for death.”
A chill went down my spine. “Why?”
“Root words are like a witch’s heart and soul bound up together,” Vander said.
“It’s who they are at their core. Some witches speak their root vor even before they speak a word of the Common Tongue.
If they lose their root word, they lose all ability to work magic.
They can’t cast, not even to defend themselves. They might as well be human.”
My pulse picked up. “Is that what happened to my mother?”
Vander shook his head. “That explanation makes sense until you remember you’re speaking of Lilawen Trevil.
She was”—his brow furrowed as he seemed to search for the right words—“a force. She joined the Crau Setra at six years old. There wasn’t a witch in Nocta who could challenge her.
Anyone who ripped away her root power would have crowed about it.
” He shook his head again. “No. I knew your mother, and I can’t believe anyone is capable of besting her in a duel. ”
To an outsider, he might have seemed overconfident. But I knew my mother, too. “What was her root power?” I asked. And why didn’t she tell me what she was? How could she have kept something like that from me?
“She was Crau Setra,” Lorcan said. “The assassins go through elaborate rituals to cloak their gifts.”
And she’d started her training at six years old. Her blood ran through my veins. Surely, I’d inherited something .
I looked at the rock in the grass. Picturing a dancing torch, I envisioned the fire flowing from my head in a sizzling river before splashing over the rock.
“ Lar— ” An invisible hand wrapped around my neck and squeezed, swiftly cutting off my air.
Choking, I doubled over while pressure built behind my eyes.
When the strangling sensation finally abated, I straightened, my eyes watering as I sucked in air.
Vander hovered, his hands twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach for me but was unsure what kind of reception he’d receive.
“The rebound will get worse each time,” Lorcan said.
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?” I asked, massaging my throat.
“Anticipation is the bane of soldiers in training.”
My fingers itched to slap the nonchalance off his face. “Can you stop making everything a surprise?”
“Very well.” Lorcan nodded toward the rock. “The next time you fail to earn laro , you’re likely to pass out.”
“That’s enough,” Vander said, moving to my side. “We’ll work on something else.”
Lorcan made a negative sound. “Rasimir expects her to return to the Drakhold with at least one vor under her belt.”
Vander took my arm. “She can’t learn if she’s unconscious.
” He guided me to the stone path at the edge of the grass.
“If the vor scapa is beyond you right now, we’ll start with something different.
We already know you can see magic. You should be able to sense it, too.
That gives you an advantage over Rasimir.
” He swept a hand toward the statue and the soaring wall of arches behind it.
“I’ve hidden chunks of feygeld in several places inside the Everless. See if you can find it.”
“Is feygeld the white rock you use to make wards?”