She turned back to Fenn and Koln, horror and intrigue warring behind the question she wasn’t sure she wanted answered.
Fenn caught the look and grinned wider, tipping his chin toward the far side of the canal.
It wasn’t the roasted dune lizard his eyes had landed on, but Jassyn—seated near a fire, half wreathed in its glow. Zaerynhad claimed a cushion beside him, her silver braid brushing his shoulder as she leaned in close. Around them, a dozen others had scattered across the steps, orbiting the quiet gravity at their center.
Jassyn glanced up now and then, polite but remote, nudging at his food as though it could distract him from the circle closing in. He looked like he’d rather slip into the canal than endure more attention.
Serenna narrowed her eyes at the obscene little plant glistening with sap. “Whatexactlyhappened in the jungle?” she asked slowly. “And why are you implying thatthingis meant for Jassyn and Lykor?”
Fenn swiped a fig from one of Koln’s plates. “Let’s just say your princeling caught some sensations through the bond and muttered something aboutfrisky bond feedbackbefore rushing off to investigate.” His fangs flashed in amusement. “I’m just assuming something…delightfully feral happened based on how disheveled they were. Koln and I figured we’d give them something to—ah—assist.”
Across the plaza, Aesar turned his head slightly and Serenna saw the flash of something darker slip through. Jaw locking, Lykor surfaced for a heartbeat, scowling at the group lingering around Jassyn. Then Aesar blinked, rolled his eyes—clearly irritated with Lykor—and turned back to Vesryn and Kal.
Serenna shifted Vasharax in her arms. “And you’re simply going to hand that cactus to Lykor with the same explanation you just gave me?”
Koln choked on a mouthful of spiced flatbread, coughing until Fenn thumped him between the shoulders, more amused than helpful.
“Oh, fuck no,” he wheezed between breaths. “Survival’s one of my few hobbies. Fenn will sneak it into Jassyn’s chambers and leave it on a nightstand. He’ll drop subtle hints—”
“Because Fenn is the perfect candidate for discretion,” Serenna said dryly.
“And Jassyn can draw his own conclusions,” Fenn finished proudly.
As Serenna shook her head, a druid flamedancer spun fire at the end of their staff. Arcs of heat flared across the canal, glinting off the water and drawing her gaze to the lower tier. Bhreena had settled there on a patch of sandstone with a plate, pointedly alone.
Serenna leaned forward. Her eyes snagged on the white mistpetals scattered across Bhreena’s meal, heart lurching as Bhreena turned one between her fingers.
Serenna rose so quickly that Vasharax hissed in protest, talons hooking into her tunic. “I need to tell her how to drink the nectar,” she said in a rush as Bhreena inspected the blossom.
Fenn snorted. “Or we can stay up here and wager on which druid will keel over first when she eats the petals.”
“You know they’re not supposed to be eaten!” Serenna scolded, hoisting Vasharax more securely.
“It’s not as if the druids bothered with instructions,” Koln grumbled. “They just glare at you like you’ve desecrated a sacred garden.”
Serenna didn’t reply. She was already descending the steps, boots carefully landing in the worn grooves.
She didn’t want to revisit the last time she’d let her guard down, when she’d reached out and had been left standing alone. That particular memory—Ayla, surrounded by laughing peers in Centarya’s courtyards—could stay buried where it belonged. In the past.
Still, Bhreena’s solitude struck a familiar chord, the two of them long estranged from the realms that had once claimed them. Maybe she’d be different.
A tug at her neck drew Serenna from her thoughts. She glanced down to find Vasharax gnawing on the Starshard, chain caught between her tiny fangs. Serenna pried her jewel free from the hatchling’s maw. Vasharax growled, scales shivering where the gem’s glow brushed them as though the light offended her. Serenna tucked the shard deeper beneath her leathers, out of sight.
Fenn and Koln’s laughter faded as she reached the lowest tier, replaced by the soft wash of water against stone. Turned away from the revelry, Bhreena sat at the canal’s edge in the light of the floating lanterns.
“The mistpetals,” Serenna said as she approached. “There’s a bulb of nectar at the base.”
Brows drawing close, Bhreena turned the flower over, her auburn hair half loosened from a braid, glinting copper where the light caught it. Freckles dusted olive skin, scattered across the bridge of her nose. Her gaze lifted, unreadable dark eyes flicking between Serenna and the hatchling.
“You’re supposed to twist it off and sip,” Serenna added, sitting on a step a few paces away so as not to fully intrude. She glanced around—noticing no onlookers, thankfully—yet still lowered her voice. “The druids act like any other way offends the stars. I’ve never had the nerve to ask why.”
Bhreena pried the clear bulb free and cast the flower into the canal. It drifted between lanterns, dipping once before being swept downstream. “A lot of ceremony around here,” she muttered.
Vasharax craned her neck toward the meat on Bhreena’s plate, nostrils flaring with a chuff. Bhreena’s eyes followed the motion—curious, maybe—then targeted the glint of scales plating Serenna’s arm against the hatchling’s claws.
“You became one of those druids too?”
“Hardly a week ago.” Serenna adjusted Vasharax’s restless weight. “Our arrival to Asharyn was…a little more violent. But once the druids realized that some of us could channel the powers of the earth, they welcomed us.” She hesitated, attempting to study Bhreena without making it obvious. “I heard you command the elements as well.”
