Chapter 23
W hen I entered the Everless with Lorcan and Vander the next morning, Ruvien sat on the edge of the fountain.
“It’s all right,” Vander murmured, touching my shoulder when I startled. “We expected him.”
Lorcan moved past us and stopped in front of Ruvien.
The elf brushed his beringed fingers over the flat surface of the fountain’s curved wall.
His knee-length jacket was a shimmering gray embroidered with intricate purple designs that matched his eyes.
Dark trousers showed beneath a split in the rich-looking fabric.
He kicked one booted foot, his heel lightly drumming against the crumbling stone.
“I was surprised to hear from you, Prince Lorcan.” He looked up, the Everless’s sunlight turning his hair a soft gold. “You would be further in my debt?”
Wrapped from head to toe in black with his dark hair in a tight queue at his nape, Lorcan was a marked contrast to the sparkling Ruvien.
“I don’t have a choice,” Lorcan said. “Time isn’t on my side.”
Ruvien dusted his hands. “We almost always have a choice.” His amethyst eyes shifted to me. “However, I’ll grant you the options available to you have”—he groped for a word, then snapped his long fingers—“gone to shit.”
Lorcan appeared to grind his molars. “Will you help or not?”
I held my breath. Whatever help Lorcan wanted, he wanted it badly enough to ask Ruvien. I didn’t need to know much about the elves to understand the significance of the request.
Ruvien stood, his eyes flicking over Vander. “Veradorn doesn’t interfere with the trials of Nocta.”
My heart sank. Ruvien wouldn’t help—
“However,” he said, “my mistress has granted this request as a personal favor.”
Beside me, Vander stiffened.
Lorcan’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you,” he said gruffly. “We won’t forget Veradorn’s assistance.”
Ruvien made a beckoning gesture. “Let me see the gifts.”
Vander reached inside his jacket and withdrew several glass vials. The length of his little finger, they were each stoppered with a cork and filled with blood. They clicked together as Vander tipped them into Ruvien’s waiting hand.
“Quite a collection,” Ruvien said. He held his other palm over the vials and closed his eyes. A few seconds later, he opened them. “It’s done.”
“You’re certain?” Lorcan asked.
Ruvien gave him a long-suffering look. “Do you want them or not?”
Lorcan extended his palm. “We want them.”
Ruvien handed them over, then turned and walked the path to the temple.
Lorcan and Vander moved to my sides, flanking me as the three of us watched Ruvien pause in the doorway.
He looked over his shoulder, his purple eyes sharp.
“The gifts won’t endure for long. Only a fool would attempt to use them in combat. ”
“She won’t,” Lorcan said.
Ruvien’s lips curved as he looked at me. “I didn’t think so. You’re far more intelligent than your men, aren’t you, Your Highness?” A knowing look entered his eyes. “I imagine you see quite a lot they don’t expect you to. Although I suspect listening poses a challenge.”
My heart knocked against my ribs. What was he saying?
His smile grew, but it wasn’t mocking or cruel.
“Even with your gifts, I expect listening will always elude you.” He tilted his head, and a lock of honey-colored hair slipped over his shoulder.
“You’ll have to rely on observation when you peer through the walls others erect.
But don’t worry, Princess. People say a lot when they’re not speaking, especially when you know where to look.
I suggest starting with a mirror.” He offered a slight bow.
Then he stepped through the door and into the shadows.
I stared after him, my throat dry and my pulse racing. The large mirror I’d encountered the night of my failed escape appeared in my mind. I’d been so busy surviving my father’s court, I hadn’t thought of it again. I’d let other worries replace it. But maybe I shouldn’t have.
Vander rubbed a hand over his mouth, his expression dark as he eyed the doorway where Ruvien had disappeared. “Just once, I’d love it if he spoke without a bunch of cryptic bullshit.”
“Elves,” Lorcan said, as if that explained everything. Perhaps it did.
Turning to him, I gestured to the vials he held. “Vander got those from Timmon in the maze last night.”
Neither man looked surprised. “You saw us,” Vander said, making it a statement.
“Yes,” I said. “I saw your lips moving, but I couldn’t hear your conversation. Did you use the ‘don’t notice me’ spell?”
“Among others.”
I glanced at the temple doorway. “Ruvien said I can peer through walls. He means wards, right? But he seems to think I can’t hear people speak inside them.”
“Does that make sense to you?” Lorcan asked.
I thought back to his argument with Vander in front of the fountain. I’d seen both men clearly, but only the sound of the fountain’s splashing water had reached me.
“Yes,” I said, “I think he’s right.”
Vander grunted. “Don’t tell him. We’ll never hear the end of it.”
I chewed my lip. “So I can look through wards. I can see magic, but I’m still bound by some of its rules.”
“For now,” Vander said. “Your gifts are unique in the world, Corinthe. Who knows what you’ll be able to do as you get stronger?”
Lorcan’s expression was more cautious. “Perhaps. Elves understand magic in ways we don’t. If Ruvien thinks the limitation is permanent, he’s probably correct.” Lorcan’s mouth tightened as he glanced at Vander. “Zero danger of me telling him that.”
Vander winked at him. Then he brushed a knuckle under my chin. “Seeing through wards is still incredibly useful, Princess. Don’t discount your gifts.” Leaning across me, he took a vial from Lorcan and held it up. “And you may possess others yet.”
My skin tingled from his casual touch. Ignoring the way the sensation threatened to travel lower, I nodded toward the vial. “Are any of those gifts in there?”
Vander gave the vial a little shake, and the reddish liquid caught the sunlight.
“The last time I traveled to Ghedda, I asked Timmon to collect blood instead of coin as payment for crossing his bridge. It was a risk, but, as Lorcan said, time isn’t on our side.
Just now, Ruvien spelled the vials to allow you to absorb their gifts for a short period.
You should be able to say the vor to power the blood.
But it’s just for practice. The vor won’t stay on your tongue. ”
A horrible suspicion bloomed in my mind. “Did Timmon drain witches to get the blood?”
“No,” Vander said. “These are just samples.” His eyes twinkled, a satisfied smile touching his lips. “It’s actually a clever little strategy on my part—”
“So modest,” Lorcan murmured.
“—since bridge trolls have a thing for blood,” Vander said, ignoring him.
“They used to demand it for their potions.” He waved a hand.
“Nothing too powerful or exciting. Troll stuff, like repairing supports and widening their bridges. Once Rasimir started hunting the witches, however, the trolls switched to coin and riddles. But a few old-timers still demand blood.” He nodded toward the vials in Lorcan’s hand.
“The power in those was dormant until Ruvien. He spelled them to work in short bursts.”
Lorcan tucked the rest of the vials into his pocket. “The idea is that saying the vor s and feeling the gifts might wake up your witch magic.”
I looked between them. “When did you plan this?”
“As soon as you struggled with the vor scapa ,” Lorcan said. “We can’t hold off Rasimir much longer. You must claim a vor . The vials might help.”
Pieces clicked into place, and I frowned at Vander. “The last time you went to Ghedda, you brought Duncan across the Feyline.”
He nodded, a flash of regret in his eyes. “The farmer was a dead man the moment Rasimir learned his name.”
Guilt swept me. “I think Rasimir has been spying on my dreams. That’s the only way he could have learned of Duncan.
His snake is carved into my bed’s headboard, so it must be spelled to invade my mind when I’m unconscious.
Delphine seemed to warn me against sleeping in the bed.
” I swallowed hard. “I’ve been sleeping in a chair. ”
The men shared another glance, their expressions grim. “Did you dream of the peddler?” Lorcan asked finally.
My blood froze. “Yes.”
He cursed, and his mouth tightened as he shoved a hand though his hair. “I should have pieced it together sooner.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Delphine is right. Rasimir told me of the peddler’s cart, along with the tiara you touched. He must have pulled those images from your dreams.”
The ice in my veins burrowed deeper. “And you made me relive them on the riverbank the day I drained the merman.”
Lorcan didn’t flinch, but his tone softened as he said, “I did what was necessary, Corinthe, the way we all must do when we play this game. Your father’s crest doesn’t possess any inherent magic, but he obviously placed a spell on your headboard before you arrived.
For now, you’re right to avoid the bed. If you dream of the Everless, it’ll be over for all three of us. ”
A heavy silence fell, and an awkward heat squirmed through me at what Lorcan hadn’t said. Training with Lorcan and Vander wasn’t the only clandestine activity I needed to keep under wraps.
Sunlight gilded the vial between Vander’s fingers. “Do you think it’ll work?” I asked.
He removed the cork. “One way to find out.”
A n hour later, triumph pumped through my veins as the rock in the center of the grass glowed bright blue.
Vander jumped up from the bench. “Fuck me, she did it!”
A short distance away, Lorcan unfolded his arms, a smile transforming his face.
“She did,” he murmured. He looked at me. “ You did.”
The triumph soared, laro trembling on my tongue. It was so easy. Just a word. How had I never managed to say it before?
Power lingered on my lips. Turning back to the rock, I thrust out a hand.
Both men leaped forward. “No!”
“ Laro !” I cried.