When they resumed walking, she gestured toward Fenn and the prince, who were already in conversation with Kaedryn. “I told them after breakfast. We all agreed Lykor would probably handle it better if it came from you.”
Jassyn swallowed, tension coiling in his throat. Not well, but better. As he stepped into the shade of the trellis, he was beginning to regret not informing Lykor earlier.
As if catching that thought, Lykor’s eyes snapped to his and Jassyn’s stomach swooped. Standing apart from everyone else, his arms were locked across his chest, gauntleted fingers tappingan impatient rhythm against his leathers—he’d refused to wear the druids’ clothing.
A waste of time on a glorified walk in circles,Lykor’s glower all but said, his patience already seeming thinner than Kaedryn’s gossamer robes.
With every step out of the courtyard, pressure cinched tighter around Jassyn’s ribs. Beyond the palace gates, the sanctum unfolded around them, a labyrinth of sandstone and light. Rows of tan canopies fluttered overhead, casting pools of shade over the streets. The breeze ruffled through Jassyn’s curls, trailing fragrances of jasmine and sun-baked earth in its wake.
Kaedryn unfurled her wings, black scales flashing in the morning sun. She nodded to other druids in passing, the three talons at the tip of each of her wings clacking together as if extending a greeting of their own.
But Jassyn caught the way Kaedryn twisted the ribbons of her robe as she stole uneasy glances at Vesryn.
Oblivious to her discomfort, Fenn had sidled up to her and launched into a flurry of eager questions. “So you have no druid magics then?” he asked.
Kaedryn shook her head. “We have a handful of these…Starshards,” she said, adopting the name they’d been using for the relics.
She flipped her claw, the returned Starshard sparkling in its jewelry setting. Her eyes flicked nervously to the prince again. “But what little starlight lingers within is used sparingly—we have no way of replenishing it.”
Leaning over, Vesryn frowned as he peered at the crystal with an intensity that made Kaedryn’s wings snap closed against her spine. He’d argued when Serenna insisted that he leave his own gems behind, but she’d promised that he could experiment later under Kaedryn’s guidance.
“We could fill your Starshards with Essence,” Vesryn offered, tilting his head, hand half-extended before he withdrew it. “I’ve channeled magic into the crystals a few times…” He trailed off after Serenna gave a disapproving sniff, but Kaedryn’s irises began glowing with cautious hope.
She finally faced the prince directly, her fingers curling around the jewelry. “Truly? If the Starshards could be restored, our defenses would be stronger than they’ve been in centuries.” She inclined her head, tiny scales shifting around her cheeks as she spoke. “We would be in your debt.”
Kaedryn motioned them down a narrow street where vibrant desert lilies spilled over flower boxes, falling back into step beside Fenn. “And as for our own magic… My foremother spoke of her foremother conjuring fire. But that particular scalebound gift has been silent for generations.”
She idly traced a silver chain draped around her claw. “Sometimes, I almost feel a flicker of…something stirring beneath my skin.” A wistful smile traveled across her lips, vanishing as quickly as it came. “But perhaps that is only wishful thinking.”
Kaedryn hesitated, adjusting her jewelry before asking Serenna, “Could you summon fire? Show me how you call it?”
Jassyn caught Serenna’s eye before she answered, silently wondering when the right moment would be to admit that he shared the same abilities.
Extending a hand, Serenna corralled a tendril of wind. “I can only channel the elements if they’re present,” she said, bending the breeze around them and sending Kaedryn’s robes fluttering. “Not create.”
Kaedryn smoothed the sunweave of her garment, her expression growing pensive. “So that’s the magical difference between the ancient scalebound and shamans,” she murmured. “I may be the guild master of our histories, but much of ourknowledge was lost when our ancestors fled Vulkaris—the haven of fire.”
“Vulkaris?” Fenn echoed, attempting to beckon Lykor closer, but his effort to include him went ignored. “Was your stronghold built inside a volcano?”
Kaedryn nodded, her gaze drifting to the sky as shadows slid between the gaps in the canopies—a formation of winged warriors flying overhead. “The volcano stood in the heart of a jungle, a sanctuary for those who sought to master fire. But when the Aelfyn laid siege and chained Cinderax…” Her voice softened, sorrow threading through every word. “Our ancestors had no choice but to abandon the fortress. Many perished bringing Cinderax here. And many more sacrificed themselves, fighting to ensure they weren’t followed.”
Jassyn glanced toward Lykor at the mention of the dragon, but he had drifted farther from the group and wasn’t listening. His glare was fixed on a row of palm trees swaying above a turquoise canal, the water winding through the city like a sunlit vein.
“But the volcano is surrounded by frozen mountains now,” Jassyn said. “How did the terrain change so drastically?”
“The wilds were remade to be impassable. Our foremothers wove tales of shamans aiding the scalebound in the final hours before their magic waned—raising mountains, sealing valleys, twisting rivers into ice to shroud our ancestors’ retreat.” Eyes going distant, Kaedryn spun a ring around her knuckle. “My people forged defenses into the earth itself, scattering barriers and placing wardens.”
“We became well acquainted,” Vesryn quipped, halting as a caravan of humpbacked sandstriders lumbered past, their padded feet stirring up small puffs of dust. “We didn’t receive the warmest welcome from your snow golem.”
A thin smile tugged at Kaedryn’s mouth as she directed them through an archway. “Serenna mentioned that you vanquished one of our guardians in the frozen passes.”
Fenn reached up, scraping his talons against the stone arch that marked the market district as they passed under it. Stalls lined the gridded streets, each designated with a colorful flag bearing a depiction of its wares. Tables overflowed, each one bursting with something different—dyed fabrics that rippled like mirages, spiced fruits, beaded jewelry, flutes carved from bone that whistled in the breeze, and bundles of sun-dried herbs strung with copper charms.
Kaedryn began to detail their bartering system, but Jassyn only half-listened as the bustling streets swelled around them. His attention kept snagging on Lykor, who had peeled even farther away from the group, his shoulders drawn taut as he pushed through the throng.
Seemingly on the hunt, he stalked down a row of vendors, eyes slicing over displays of armor and weapons as he prowled from stall to stall.
“But anything in Asharyn is yours,” Kaedryn concluded. “Especially if you restore our Starshards. We’ll see to it that you want for nothing.”
