FOR FUCK’S SAKE.Lykor rolled his eyes as a flush raced to the tips of Serenna’s ears.
“Since you can’t resist touching things you shouldn’t,” she snapped, “why not try holding onto ashardof common sense for once?”
“Oh, leave your princeling alone, she-elf,” Fenn interjected. He leaned over to pat her knee, but his grin was aimed at Vesryn. “If he needs more practice with fondling, I’d be more than happy to lend my expertise.”
Vesryn pursed his lips but ignored him, spinning the crystal in his palm. “The shard has been inert since the tree released it. It’s no danger to us.”
“You don’t know that,” Serenna hissed. “It absorbed your magic and flung it right back at us. Tenfold, you said!” She glanced around the group, her gaze darting between Fenn, Jassyn, and finally Lykor, silently pleading for someone to back her up. “He used Essence too close to it, and then itattackedus.”
Lykor couldn’t help himself as his curiosity began thrashing. He leaned forward, his focus homing in on the shard as it glinted with potential in the firelight. If this was a device they could control…
“So it’s a magnifier of power?” he asked, absently accepting a bowl of Fenn’s dubious gruel, though his attention remained wholly riveted on the gem.
“That’s exactly what I thought—like a conduit for Essence!” Vesryn exclaimed, casting a pointed scowl at Serenna. “Last night, I prodded it with magic—”
“Youwhat?” she screeched.
“Nothing happened,” the prince mumbled, his fingers curling protectively around the crystal. “Maybe it’s a shard of a Heart of Stars—a Starshard? It could be attuned to whoever holds it.” Dismissive, he shrugged. “You said Ayla wore one. There was magic all around, yet nothing happened with hers.”
Serenna crossed her arms, her glare sharp enough to cleave stone. “That doesn’t mean you should experiment recklessly.”
“If I wanted a lecture, I’d go back to the academy,” Vesryn muttered, tucking the gem out of her sight.
“Do you think it’s an Aeflyn device?” Jassyn chimed in before Serenna could retort. “Or some kind of similar relic? It’s too much like the Heart to be a coincidence.”
Lykor’s gaze flicked to him, lingering longer than he intended. Jassyn absently twisted one of his curls, his expression thoughtful yet distant as he studied Fenn steeping leaves in a battered kettle. When Jassyn’s eyes lifted to meet his, the words poised on Lykor’s tongue dissolved, slipping away like smoke.
“Your fortress possessed mechanisms that we’ve never seen in the elven realms,” Jassyn continued, oblivious to Lykor’s distracted silence. “Maybe the druids somehow had a way to harness that crystal to negate or channel Essence.”
“But Fenn and I didn’t see any gems guarding the Heart beneath the magma,” Serenna countered, glancing at Fenn as he poured tea into a collection of mismatched mugs. “And why would Ayla have one?”
Lykor grumbled under his breath before taking a bite out of his bowl, not tasting the meal. This band of fools could prattle in circles all day, weaving endless theories around the unknown. All that mattered was how to wield it.
“Perhaps if we find ourselves in the company of druids, we can ask them,” Lykor bit out, interrupting their squabbling. The secrets of that extinct race had long since crumbled to dust. “Until then,” he continued, shifting his gaze toward the prince. “If that conduit or Starshard or whatever you insist on calling it can offer us an advantage, figure it out. Just don’t obliterate the jungle by fiddling with it.”
The fire crackled softly as his command lingered in the air. Lykor had little faith that it would be heeded with the way his other orders had been blatantly disregarded left and right. Vesryn’s arched brow only served as confirmation.
“There’s a different matter I want to address—one long overdue,” the prince said, presenting his grievance as though this motley assembly was an exalted council rather than exiles huddled in the wilderness.
With a nod in Serenna’s direction, Vesryn continued, “You’re going to return her portaling talent.”
Lykor stared at him, mechanically chewing through another bite of porridge as it turned to paste in his mouth. Firelight flickered across Vesryn’s face, carving shadows along the edge of his jaw. Lykor let the silence stretch, each passing moment a measured assertion ofhiscontrol. Only after deliberately swallowing did he respond.
“No,” he clipped. “I need the ability augmented for portal jumping.”
Vesryn’s eyes flashed as he grabbed the flaming stick again to jab it in Lykor’s direction. “No, you don’t. Because we’re coming with you.”
Lykor barked a laugh. “More people will—”
“Be an advantage,” Vesryn finished, tone sharpening.
Lykor drummed his gauntlet against his knee, the metallic rhythm a futile attempt at quelling his irritation. The last thing he wanted was for this group to be trailing him in the Wastes. Fenn would follow his orders, but the girl was beyond insubordinate. And he had a feeling that Jassyn would side with the prince.
Unbidden, Lykor’s gaze slipped to Jassyn, who was quietly asking Fenn about the tea blend he’d steeped. Fenn, of course, immediately launched into an animated explanation, naming every branch and leaf he’d plucked in the jungle.
Lykor knew he should’ve looked away, focused on anything else—the prince’s combative glare, for one. But the way Jassyn leaned in, head tilted, listening like Fenn’s rambling actually mattered—it caught him. Snared him. A splinter of doubt drove itself deep.
What did Jassyn think of him?
