Her king’s ship was docked on the edge of the city, twice as tall as any other, painted with bits of gold to bring a little sense of sunshine into a world that did anything but dazzle. He’d left the window open, as always, a sign she was more than welcome inside.
He’d obviously been waiting, because when she put her phantom fingers to his brow and dipped inside his dream, it took hardly more than a thought to warp the chaos and take control of the scene. She painted the same gray stone walls, the same hulking table, the same tapestries and windows and overbearing chandelier, nothing new, nothing inventive, all duty and focus, the way he’d sadly come to like it.
“Kasiandra, what news?” he asked as he turned from the window, studied gaze landing on her before she’d even fully pulled the dream together.
“The trials are over. Lyana and I travel to the House of Whispers come morning.”
He nodded as though he already knew.
Maybe he did. It wasn’t her concern.
“My liege, I found out what the raven was hiding. I discovered his magic. He’s—” Cassi paused, taking a deep breath as her anticipation flared. “He’s an invinci.”
Her king’s eyes widened, blue flames coming to life as the information sank in. “That, Kasiandra, is a very intriguing development.”
She smiled. “I had a feeling you’d think so.”
He gripped his chin as calculations danced across his expression, new plans, new plots, each grander than the one before. Then he focused on her again. “How do you know? What did you see?”
“He punched his fists through glass and within minutes the cuts had vanished, deep gashes that had been dripping with blood and then suddenly were no more. I spotted a subtle silver sheen passing over his skin. There’s only one power in the world that can do that.”
The ghost of a grin crossed his lips before he smoothed them into an unreadable line. “Thank you for coming tonight. I’ll meet with my council to adjust the plans accordingly. The raven might be the test subject we’ve been waiting for. Come back tomorrow and I’ll let you know how to proceed. Things will move faster than you think now that the time is almost here.”
Cassi was dismissed.
She knew it. Yet she held onto his dream, refusing to let go, even as she felt his spirit fighting to get away, to return to his desk and his lantern and the deep, dark night of planning ahead.
He paused, tilting his head at her. “Is there something else, Kasiandra?”
Funny how in the world above, Cassi never thought twice about questioning Lyana, the woman who would one day be her queen. Yet here, in the world below, surrounded by never-ending fog that only his eyes seemed to penetrate, questions died quick deaths before her king.
But he knew.
He sensed the tension in her soul. “What?”
He stepped closer. A flicker of concern passed over his features before he reached out and placed his hand on her arm. The touch felt real, though she knew it was as much a fabrication as the roof above their heads, the salty air sticking to their skin, the crashing waves five stories below that pounded more ferociously with each second she tarried.
“You can tell me," he said.
“It’s just…” She broke off, but he continued staring, giving her time, waiting for her to speak.
That patient, curious look reminded her so much of the boy she used to know, so much of the Malek she remembered in her dreams. For a moment, she forgot the roles they’d come to play, the walls she’d built, and remembered the way they used to be with each other—free.
“It’s Lyana," she finally said. "She’s in so much pain. She’s so confused. And I have all the answers on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t say anything to ease the ache, to assure her that the bleak future she sees on the horizon isn’t the destiny ahead. I don’t understand why we have to wait. Why I can’t—”
“You know why,” he replied coldly, uninterested in her emotions, snapping Cassi back to the present. The vision of the boy in her head faded—she shoved it away, forcing it back into that small place where it always lingered. Now he was a king. A man who had no time for feelings. Not with the war he was waging—against a world that was broken down the middle, against an enemy that grew stronger with each passing day.
“But she’s the queen that was prophesized,” Cassi countered weakly, still hoping he might understand.
“We don’t know that for certain. Not yet. Not until the day she turns eighteen. And until we know, I won’t risk unveiling our presence. Not when surprise is the only weapon on our side.”
Cassi shrugged out of his touch. “She’d come willingly. If I could only explain, she’d make the journey in a heartbeat.”
“And what if she didn’t?” her king asked, words edged with disbelief that of all people he had to make this point to her, his loyal servant, his darling spy. “Myth and legend are the only things that keep them from diving through the mist and destroying us all. And if they ever learned what we mean to do—what must be done to save the world? I don’t even think our magic could save us.”
“But—”
“I won’t hear any more, Kasiandra,” he interrupted, silencing her with a look that was sharper than any sword.
He swiveled his head to one side, as though he had heard something she couldn’t. His muscles tensed. Before Cassi could fight, an invisible fist yanked on her soul, shattering the dream in an instant.
Cassi shot like an arrow, spirit ripped from his head and thrown back into the world. By the time she’d regained her focus, he was already leaping from his bed, unconcerned that he wore nothing more than loose trousers as he shoved his feet inside his boots and raced from the room. She followed, an invisible shadow as he ran through the ship and to the top deck, hastily making his way across the bridge before the first scream even erupted.
A moment later she knew why.
A burning ship blinked to life on the horizon. Angry, sweeping flames cut through the mist as the wind whipped into sails that were little more than tattered shreds. Yellow sparks of aero’kine magic were laced through the gusts. Two of her king's crew followed him, already lifting their hands, tugging at the elements. The yellow flares in the mist brightened as the air became a tight vacuum, sucking the ship in. Buckets of water rose over the hull, sparkling with sapphire hydro’kine magic, and splashed the fire to soak it. By the time charred wood banged against the dock, little more than smoke and embers remained, but the damage had already been done. One survivor leaned over the side, coughing to clear the smoke from his lungs, hardly able to breathe. No others were in sight.
“King Malek,” the man wheezed, relief flooding his exhausted gaze.
“What happened?” the king called. A gangplank was hastily fashioned, and he climbed aboard. Cassi floated behind him, unseen by all except her king, who undoubtedly still sensed her presence.
“Dragons…” The survivor’s voice trailed off into a fit of coughs. The side of his face was covered in rising blisters. She couldn’t tell his clothes from his skin, as they had melted and fused beyond reckoning. His body trembled with something beyond pain—adrenaline was the only fuel he had left, and even that was quickly fading.