14. Chapter 14
Chapter 14
E verything around them gleamed as the aristocracy ushered in a new year.
Enduring the party’s meal made her sick, and her other hunger raged. In fact, Imani’s arms shook, and her heart raced. None of which were good signs. She needed to feed soon and would find someone at this party to lure in.
She had no idea where Sid had wandered off to, so Imani lingered alone at the edge of the room, hiding from everyone.
Aiden and Nida danced together. With her arms up, Nida tipped her head back and shut her eyes, dancing as if she didn’t care about the assessments or her bastard of a heartmate. The nymph synced perfectly with her heartmate, and moonlight from the windowed ceiling gleamed off her green gown. She was gorgeous. Why wasn’t half of Stralas already in love with her?
A sense of being watched caused her to stiffen. With a quick sidelong glance over her shoulder, she stifled a groan.
Tanyl stood behind her, his face contemplative.
The last thing she needed was more of his attention on her, so she didn’t say anything in response.
While she needed to feed, he was too suspicious of her, too smart. She couldn’t be so intimate with him.
Imani knew little about Tanyl outside of his persona as Master Grey, which she learned while researching in the library was his middle name, and his rakish reputation. But tonight, a part of the contradicting rumors had come out. He stood on dangerous ground with his sovereign and defended magic. His fortitude to stand up against such ignorance from his powerful mother was something she couldn’t take without snarling, but he’d argued with her like a king.
What lurked beneath the surface of the seemingly superficial, arrogant prince?
Maybe nothing. Maybe Tanyl was simply an incapable, spoiled child trying to sit at the adult table. None of it meant she was interested in answering more of his suspicious questions.
After letting him wait a moment, Imani faced him with her hands clutching the folds of her dress, unable to hide her skepticism at his actions. The weariness and weight lingered in his eyes, and he lifted his chin toward the stairs.
“ Come ,” he mouthed silently.
Could she deny the heir apparent? Perhaps. But curiosity got the best of her.
He led her up the grand staircase to the railing overlooking the atrium without speaking. The second floor was dark and nearly empty of people compared to the crowd below.
A star vaulted across the sky when Imani leaned over the railing and tilted her head up. Explosions of light brightened overhead like stars shattering. The glass ceiling shone brighter and closer than any she’d seen before.
Unlike the destructive mess of lightning that erupted with the Fabric event, these eloquent, multicolored stars exploded, danced, and volleyed across the sky in beautiful, dream-like movements, captivating her.
Imani’s breath lodged in her throat as the massive display kept bursting.
“You seem more interested in the show than dancing,” he murmured. “And there’s a much better view of the fireworks up here.”
As if on cue, several more went off overhead.
Imani craned her neck more to gaze in wonder, with a flare of warmth filling her chest. Tanyl probably wanted to get her into bed, and only a fool would think otherwise, but the kindness still tugged at her a bit.
“Fireworks,” she whispered to herself, committing the name to memory. “Shouldn’t you be down there, basking in adoring attention? A bit scandalous for you to be seen up here with me alone.”
“If anyone is receiving adoring attention tonight, it’s the only female High-Norn elf in attendance.” Desire painted his features as he stared, letting his eyes roam over her low-cut dress.
Imani could see her magic wrapping around him, like she’d planned. Without it, he’d likely be paying her no mind, but she couldn’t find the energy to care.
“Your mother’s attention was the opposite of adoring,” she said, returning his gaze with her own perusal. Away from any audience, his face had a boyish charm she appreciated.
“I must confess”—he dropped his head closer to whisper in her ear—“I want to steal you from your date.”
“He’s your friend, no?”
“He is, but I find myself unable to stay away.”
Hunger tore through her. She didn’t care if he was the heir apparent—she wanted him.
But before Imani could respond, the entire floor trembled.
Stumbling, she braced herself against the railing.
The glass shattered overhead, sending shards raining down. Tanyl shouted for her to get down, and they both crouched, covering their heads.
The shaking rocked Imani down to her bones, but Tanyl shot up.
“Stay here,” he shouted.
She would do no such thing. Imani made an incredulous face and scrambled up, running out to the terrace to try to follow him outside. The balcony went out over the grounds, and the wind whipped her hair as the destruction unfolded below with a chilling familiarity.
Esa and Sid rushed forward and stood beside her, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, while the entire palace and grounds rumbled.
Dozens more people joined them, and someone yelled as the ground in the gardens opened up, splitting into a great chasm.
A flash of light caught her attention below. The prince and two other master witches had crawled onto a fallen statue or fountain, now reduced to a pile of stone and rubble, with their wands pointed forward.
The movement and roiling of the ground continued to spread out before them across the gardens.
Glimmers of magic shot out of their wands like ropes, and attached themselves to the rocks. The ground responded to the magic. Dozens of ropes spread out, and Tanyl’s neck cords tensed as he gripped his wand with two hands now. The magic tethers grew hot and glowed red, trying to stop the chasm from growing wider.
Tanyl cried out in pain when his wand overheated with the power, barely audible over the screams and rumblings. The other two masters were too absorbed in controlling their magic and couldn’t stop.
She didn’t think. Imani ran to the gardens despite people exclaiming that she should turn around.
When she got to the prince’s side, miraculously, their surroundings stilled. An unearthly silence fell, but she could still hear his wand humming with magic. It could reverberate the spell back into his body if he were still holding onto an unstable wand.
She quickly surveyed the miniature canyon now cutting through the center of the gardens. The damage terrified her, but she swallowed it down.
Panting, she yelled at the prince, “Let go of the wand!”
Tanyl glared down at her.
“Now!” she screamed.
A line appeared between his brows, but he let the wand fall onto the crumbled marble floor like it burned him. It probably had.
Wandlore magic was her most substantial ability; maybe from natural talent, an inborn interest, or both. Master Selhey had taught her more about it in the past month than she’d learned her whole life, and she knew what to do. This was a spell she and Master Selhey had been working on constantly—how to adjust a wand’s inner magic for optimum use and stability and how to stop it from casting magic entirely.
Whispering to Tanyl’s wand, Imani dropped to her knees and took out her own, waving it over his. It was a Draswood and communicated back to her, telling her all about the magic within. The prince’s magic murmured inside, a replica of his brands. Magic, like fingerprints, had its own signature in wands and around people’s bodies.
Inside, elemental terrestrial magic flashed as the strongest, Tanyl’s most potent abilities. Binding and alteration magic vibrated oddly underneath, the flaring heat telling her the wand hadn’t been configured correctly to wield that power. Deeper, enchantment, illusion, and defensive magic swirled together—all normal. Alteration simmered faintly close to the core. It flickered in and out. How could Tanyl even wield such magic?
Imani used her power, channeled through her wand, to force the layers inside to meld with another spell, calming them into an ember of muted power. The boundaries of the wand cracked still, struggling to pull magic from the Fabric to fight the Fabric. It didn’t want to attack itself but was trying to all the same.
So strange.
She whispered more spells, coalescing the magic further into a dying ember.
Her hand trembled, but the wand was cool when she picked it up. Standing, she carefully handed it to Tanyl.
People wandered around in the background, pointing and some crying. Imani barely registered any of it as she regarded the heir apparent. Tanyl’s eyes were wild, and his chest still heaved. Dirt and sweat covered his dark gold hair as he pushed it back off his face.
“What did you do to it?” His voice was accusatory.
“Weakened the magic into fewer layers so it won’t reverberate your own magic back at you, which, as I’m sure you know, would be your end. Your wand’s magic wasn’t properly imbued into the wood. The layers were all uneven, and some barely attached to the core. It’s too dangerous to cast anything. It won’t work for you until you have a master reconfigure them?—”
“That could take weeks,” he muttered.
“Actually, it could take months ,” she snapped. “It might never wield complicated magic again.”
He studied her cautiously. “Why is your face so bloody?”
Confused, Imani lifted her hand to her temple. It was sticky with blood, but it didn’t hurt.
She didn’t let him change the subject. “How did you break through the wards with your wand? It wasn’t configured properly to handle such intense alteration magic.”
“Your concern is noted, but it wasn’t intense.” Toying with his wand, he sounded casual, yet a flicker of defensiveness swept over his eyes. “Quite the little know-it-all with magic, aren’t you?”
“When it comes to wand magic? Yes, I am.”
“You don’t know as much as you think you do because it wasn’t alteration magic. Although alteration would work, too,” he said, slipping his wand back into his pocket. “It was a shockwave enchantment spell. I used it to strain the barrier and cast gravitational terrestrial magic to create a hole in the weak spot.”
A thrill raced through her. If alteration worked, too, then Imani had all those abilities. Which meant she might be able to break down the powerful master level wards.
Off to the side, Sid shouted for the prince.
Tanyl tousled his hair, bits of dirt and glass falling free. “Go back to your room, little elf. I’m needed elsewhere.”
Clenching her jaw, she let him walk away without arguing further. Ungrateful, spoiled prince.
It also didn’t pass her notice that he had lied to her. He had used alteration magic with his wand when he had gone to retrieve Esa and tied invisible ropes around her.
What was Prince Tanyl hiding?