Chapter 15 Wen #2
Then I noticed Killian’s eyes starting to droop. He was fighting it, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head like he could physically shake off the tiredness. But it was a losing battle.
Mid-sentence about the Earth books, he yawned hugely.
“Someone’s tired,” I observed.
“‘Mm, not tired,” Killian protested, even as his head started to droop.
Within five minutes, he’d given up the fight entirely. His head settled on my lap, his little body going limp as sleep claimed him. I stroked his hair absently.
“He has incredible power for his age,” Tyreen observed, her voice pitched low so as not to wake him. “Probably his ancestry of witches combined with being the son of one of Lytopia’s most powerful families.”
“That’s what worries me,” I admitted. “He’s so young. So powerful. If he can’t control it...”
“I will teach him control,” Tyreen promised. “I swear it. Don’t worry about it.”
I really, really didn’t want to.
***
After dinner, Mal gently lifted Killian into his arms. Our son barely stirred, just made a small sound and nestled against his father’s chest.
We carried him to his bedroom and laid him on his bed. He woke up just enough to mumble sleepily, “Don’t leave again.”
My throat tightened. “We won’t, baby,” I promised, tucking the blanket around him. I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
Mal did the same, his lips brushing Killian’s hair. “We are here. We are staying.”
Killian’s eyes were already closing again. “Promise?” he managed.
“Promise,” we said together.
We stood there for a moment, then left quietly, leaving the door open and guards positioned right outside.
Back in our chambers, we changed into sleeping clothes and climbed into bed.
“How do we contact an enemy prince without starting a war?” I asked, staring at the ceiling.
“Carefully,” Mal said. “Very carefully.”
“Well, that was helpful,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.
“I am working on a plan,” he assured me. “We need Tyreen’s knowledge. She knows Igryside better than anyone.”
“Okay. We can do it tomorrow,” I agreed. “Let’s rest now.”
I rolled toward him. “We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?”
He pulled me close, his arms wrapping around me. “We will be.”
I pressed my face against his chest and let myself relax. We were home. Killian was safe. Tyreen was with us.
Whatever came next, we’d face it as a family.
***
Two days later, I was in the training room with Killian and Tyreen. We’d been at it for hours, and I could feel the improvement in my control. The difference Tyreen’s teaching made was dramatic.
“Better! Much better! Again!” Tyreen called out.
I opened another portal, this one to the exact spot I was aiming for. It appeared right where I wanted it, stable and clean.
“Like this?”
“Hold it steady,” Tyreen confirmed. “Feel how the energy flows. That’s what you want every time.”
Killian was beside me, practicing his own portals. “Can I try the colors again?”
“After you master stability,” Tyreen said, her tone gentle but brooking no argument. “Art comes after foundation. You need to walk before you can dance.”
“But I want to dance NOW,” Killian whined.
“I know. But trust me, young one. Master the basics and the art will come so much easier.”
He sighed dramatically but kept practicing. I smiled as I looked at him. My perfect boy.
It took us a few more hours, but we both reached stability, which made Killian extremely smug. I had no idea where he’d learned to behave like that. Probably from his uncle Aurion.
I rolled my eyes at the memory as I settled down in the strategy room, hours later, ready to discuss our next steps. Mal, me, Tyreen, Casimya, Aurion, Torin, and several councilors. The map was spread across the table, showing the lands between Lytopia and Igryside.
“There is a neutral trading post,” Tyreen said, pointing to a spot on the border. “Border territory where kingdoms exchange goods. We could leave a message there.”
“Addressed to the Prince?” Mal asked, leaning forward to study the location.
“Yes. Requesting a private meeting.”
Casimya frowned. “Are we sure it will reach him? What if the King intercepts it?”
“Then we prepare for war.”
“It’s risky,” Mal straightened. “We will send a guard with it. Someone trustworthy.”
“Yes. But what will we say?” I lifted an eyebrow. The message was the most important part. “That we want peace?”
“Yes. But make clear we will remove his father,” Mal added.
“And that if Igryside attacks, the Prince is not exempt from consequences,” Tyreen said.
I wrote it down, choosing words with care. “Seven kingdoms against one. Choose wisely.”
“Include that a portal will appear in one hour for his response,” Mal instructed.
We reviewed the letter three times, making sure the tone was exactly right. A guard was preparing to leave with it when another guard appeared at the door and whispered in a rush into Torin’s ear. He listened with a grim expression, nodded, and then spoke up from his position near the door.
“Your Majesties,” he said, his voice tight with urgency. “A messenger just arrived. Igryside is mobilizing troops, his path clearly set toward Ravenor.”
“What?” Mal’s voice was sharp.
My stomach dropped. This was the worst-case scenario. “We don’t have time for the trading post.”
“No,” Tyreen agreed. “We do not.”
What the fuck could we do now? How could we reach-
A wild idea hit me.
“What if we portal the message directly to him?” I asked, excitement written all over my face.
Everyone turned to stare at me.
“To the Prince?” Mal asked, but I could see him considering it.
“Yes, it’s instantaneous. Like a text message.” I paused. “Lytopia really needs technology.”
“Agreed,” Mal said with feeling. “But how do we locate him?”
Tyreen’s eyes lit up. “You told me you had an assassination attempt recently, correct? From Igryside?”
I nodded. “Yes. But what does that have anything to do with-”
“Their bodies. You kept them?” She asked, interrupting me with a shake of her head.
Casimya understood faster than I did. “You want to use their energy signature? Track it back to its source?”
“Exactly.”
Oh. That made sense.
We moved quickly after that. Tyreen, Casimya, Mal and I went straight to the ritual room, the body already there, brought by guards and waiting for us. It was preserved in cold storage, but I tried not to look at it too closely.
Tyreen set up the ritual to extract his energy quickly, her movements practiced.
“Focus on the energy,” she instructed, guiding my hands to hover over the corpse. “Absorb it. Let it guide you.”
I touched the cold flesh and grimaced. “This is disgusting.”
“Focus. Think: prince. Royalty. Power. Igryside. Let the energy show you where it came from.”
I closed my eyes and concentrated. “Prince. Prince. Prince.”
The energy was dark, tainted. It made my skin crawl. But I could feel it now, a thread leading back to its source. Back to Igryside. Yes.
A small portal began to form in front of me. Unstable and flickering, but there.
“It is working,” Mal said.
“I think so? I hope so,” I managed through gritted teeth.
“Slip it through. Quickly,” Tyreen urged.
I grabbed the letter and shoved it through the portal before I could second-guess myself. The portal snapped shut.
“Did it work?” I gasped, the effort hitting me all at once.
“We will find out,” Mal said.
“What if it was the wrong room? What if guards saw it?”
“Then we deal with the consequences.”
“What if the King got it?”
“Then war it is,” Tyreen said. “But you did well. The energy signature was strong. It should have led to someone of royal blood.”
“I really don’t want war,” I said quietly.
Mal pulled me close. “Neither do I. But we can defend ourselves if needed. Let that information calm you somehow.”
It didn’t, but I appreciated the feeling. We stood there in the ritual room with nothing else to do but wait.
Would the Prince respond? Would he even get it?
Only time would tell.