Chapter 24 #2
Jassyn glanced up now and then, polite but remote, nudging at his food as though it could distract him from the circle closing in. He looked like he’d rather slip into the canal than endure more attention.
Serenna narrowed her eyes at the obscene little plant glistening with sap. “What exactly happened in the jungle?” she asked slowly. “And why are you implying that thing is meant for Jassyn and Lykor?”
Fenn swiped a fig from one of Koln’s plates.
“Let’s just say your princeling caught some sensations through the bond and muttered something about frisky bond feedback before rushing off to investigate.
” His fangs flashed in amusement. “I’m just assuming something…
delightfully feral happened based on how disheveled they were.
Koln and I figured we’d give them something to—ah—assist.”
Across the plaza, Aesar turned his head slightly and Serenna saw the flash of something darker slip through.
Jaw locking, Lykor surfaced for a heartbeat, scowling at the group lingering around Jassyn.
Then Aesar blinked, rolled his eyes—clearly irritated with Lykor—and turned back to Vesryn and Kal.
Serenna shifted Vasharax in her arms. “And you’re simply going to hand that cactus to Lykor with the same explanation you just gave me?”
Koln choked on a mouthful of spiced flatbread, coughing until Fenn thumped him between the shoulders, more amused than helpful.
“Oh, fuck no,” he wheezed between breaths. “Survival’s one of my few hobbies. Fenn will sneak it into Jassyn’s chambers and leave it on a nightstand. He’ll drop subtle hints—”
“Because Fenn is the perfect candidate for discretion,” Serenna said dryly.
“And Jassyn can draw his own conclusions,” Fenn finished proudly.
As Serenna shook her head, a druid flamedancer spun fire at the end of their staff. Arcs of heat flared across the canal, glinting off the water and drawing her gaze to the lower tier. Bhreena had settled there on a patch of sandstone with a plate, pointedly alone.
Serenna leaned forward. Her eyes snagged on the white mistpetals scattered across Bhreena’s meal, heart lurching as Bhreena turned one between her fingers.
Serenna rose so quickly that Vasharax hissed in protest, talons hooking into her tunic. “I need to tell her how to drink the nectar,” she said in a rush as Bhreena inspected the blossom.
Fenn snorted. “Or we can stay up here and wager on which druid will keel over first when she eats the petals.”
“You know they’re not supposed to be eaten!” Serenna scolded, hoisting Vasharax more securely.
“It’s not as if the druids bothered with instructions,” Koln grumbled. “They just glare at you like you’ve desecrated a sacred garden.”
Serenna didn’t reply. She was already descending the steps, boots carefully landing in the worn grooves.
She didn’t want to revisit the last time she’d let her guard down, when she’d reached out and had been left standing alone. That particular memory—Ayla, surrounded by laughing peers in Centarya’s courtyards—could stay buried where it belonged. In the past.
Still, Bhreena’s solitude struck a familiar chord, the two of them long estranged from the realms that had once claimed them. Maybe she’d be different.
A tug at her neck drew Serenna from her thoughts.
She glanced down to find Vasharax gnawing on the Starshard, chain caught between her tiny fangs.
Serenna pried her jewel free from the hatchling’s maw.
Vasharax growled, scales shivering where the gem’s glow brushed them as though the light offended her.
Serenna tucked the shard deeper beneath her leathers, out of sight.
Fenn and Koln’s laughter faded as she reached the lowest tier, replaced by the soft wash of water against stone. Turned away from the revelry, Bhreena sat at the canal’s edge in the light of the floating lanterns.
“The mistpetals,” Serenna said as she approached. “There’s a bulb of nectar at the base.”
Brows drawing close, Bhreena turned the flower over, her auburn hair half loosened from a braid, glinting copper where the light caught it. Freckles dusted olive skin, scattered across the bridge of her nose. Her gaze lifted, unreadable dark eyes flicking between Serenna and the hatchling.
“You’re supposed to twist it off and sip,” Serenna added, sitting on a step a few paces away so as not to fully intrude. She glanced around—noticing no onlookers, thankfully—yet still lowered her voice. “The druids act like any other way offends the stars. I’ve never had the nerve to ask why.”
Bhreena pried the clear bulb free and cast the flower into the canal. It drifted between lanterns, dipping once before being swept downstream. “A lot of ceremony around here,” she muttered.
Vasharax craned her neck toward the meat on Bhreena’s plate, nostrils flaring with a chuff. Bhreena’s eyes followed the motion—curious, maybe—then targeted the glint of scales plating Serenna’s arm against the hatchling’s claws.
“You became one of those druids too?”
“Hardly a week ago.” Serenna adjusted Vasharax’s restless weight.
“Our arrival to Asharyn was…a little more violent. But once the druids realized that some of us could channel the powers of the earth, they welcomed us.” She hesitated, attempting to study Bhreena without making it obvious.
“I heard you command the elements as well.”
“Never made me feel worth more,” Bhreena clipped before sipping the nectar and setting the translucent bulb aside.
“I thought being elven-blooded made me different,” Serenna said quietly. “Until I was conscripted to Centarya.”
Bhreena let out a humorless sound. “The lie they fed our kind—half a drop of elf blood and you’re nobler than humans by default.
” Her attention darted to the sentinels posted at the bridge, then to the flamedancers spinning through ribbons of fire.
“But when the crown needs soldiers, the line they drew between us vanishes fast.”
“I know,” Serenna said softly. “I was taken from the southern realm.” She wasn’t sure whether the words would push Bhreena deeper behind her walls.
Bhreena picked at a strip of meat, not really eating. “Western realm,” she said at last. “My line tended the forests of Dosythe for generations. Then the king ordered the harvest for his ships, and suddenly our stewardship meant destroying the groves ourselves.”
Serenna’s stomach turned from the same rot beneath different soil. Vaelyn’s white shores had been devoured by shipyards, the bay choked with docks, the sea swarmed with sails.
She’d heard fragments from the prince about Daeryn’s force—about their families—and beneath Bhreena’s quiet defiance she felt a kinship carved by more than mere circumstance.
“My brother remained behind when I was conscripted,” Serenna murmured.
“I thought it was because he was next in line, but now I wonder if Elashor already knew his elemental power had awakened. The last time I saw Saundyl, he could command the sea. By now he’s probably sailed.
” Her voice thinned to a whisper. “He doesn’t feel like he has a choice but to obey either. Elashor took his family too.”
Bhreena’s chewing slowed. Then, almost grudgingly, she answered, “Doesn’t matter what power you have when someone else’s throat is under the blade.” Her gaze drifted down the canal. “You really think we’ll see them again?”
Serenna hesitated. She wanted to promise, but truth demanded honest words.
“All of our factions are meeting tomorrow,” she said instead.
“We’ll decide together how to move against the king.
” She met Bhreena’s eyes, firelight flickering across the unreadable umber.
“If Jassyn said we’ll help, he meant it. ”
Bhreena studied her a moment longer before giving a single nod.
Serenna assumed Bhreena would only believe it when proof stood before her. Yet the door between them felt cracked open. If only slightly.
Bhreena’s attention landed on Vasharax curled in Serenna’s lap. “That dragon isn’t like the one we followed. Rimeclaw.” Her eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the hatchling. “He had fins instead of leathery spines. And webbed claws, like something from the sea.”
It wasn’t really a question, but Serenna caught it like one.
“Cinderax said each elemental type appears different. Stormstrikes and Zephyrfangs—lightning and wind—are built for speed and don’t have forelegs at all.
Bramblemaws, the earthen dragons, are low-bodied and thick-limbed compared to the others. ”
Bhreena’s fingers tightened around her plate. “I didn’t think dragons were anything more than old stories. And certainly not something I’d ever see.”
Serenna watched a shadow cross Bhreena’s face before she ventured, “Were you there when Rimeclaw was found?”
Bhreena shook her head. “I only heard about it. My company was stationed at a fortress in the Wastes. We received word that one of the first ships had made landfall on the far side of the world—this side, I suppose.”
Serenna held her breath. She doubted the time frame was right for that discovery to have been made by Saundyl’s fleet. Bhreena nudged rice around her plate before continuing.
“They sailed through a shattered coast and up a river mouth into the marshes. The dragon was crystallized in the water as if he were sleeping. It didn’t take long for a string of portals to open back to the capital.
The king came through with Elashor, woke the dragon somehow, then commanded him back to Alari.
After that, our orders were to clear a path across the Wastes and find more beasts. ”
Serenna traced the illusion maps in her mind, the ones she’d seen in countless meetings, each glowing line of river and coast bending toward dread.
If Bhreena meant the Mistweaver Marshes, then the king’s armies might already be closer than they feared—nearly on Asharyn’s doorstep if they marched across the plains.
But if they followed the water east instead…
Her stomach dropped. That path would carry them straight into the Crackling Maw.
Serenna’s gaze found Fenn and Koln, now surrounded by a larger group of raucous wraith, before drifting beyond them to where Vesryn remained deep in spirited conversation with Aesar and Kal. Music and laughter thinned, joy dissolving into a hush of sound.
Peace like this never lasted.