“Most of the time,” she says.
I take that in. Life would be so different in Oryndhr if people in poorer cities had access to magical health care. “Oryndhrian healers use compresses, wraps, and homemade remedies that take a long time to cure ills, if at all. Are your healers part of the Order of the Magi?”
“No,” Ani says with a perplexed look. “We don’t have anything like that.”
“Political houses?”
“No.” She wrinkles her nose and then brightens. “But we do have a royal court and general ranks for magic users based on their abilities. Oh, and there are the Aspacana clans who live out in the plains, but they keep to themselves mostly. They have elemental magic.”
A huff of incredulous laughter leaves my lips. I still can’t conceive that magic flows so freely here that there areranks. What would it be like to wield that kind of power? To haveelementalmagic?
I remember the smoky tendrils that the king had bound me with, my insides clenching at the memory of being at his mercy. I recall how they’d been an extension of his obvious power, and then my brain decides to veer down the dangerous path of wondering what else they could do, all those possibilities running wild.
My blood heats.No, no, no.
“What kind of ranks?” I ask Ani hastily, shutting down that train of thought with every ounce of willpower I possess. No good can come of that.None at all.
“I’m not really sure I’m supposed to be talking to you about all this.” She stares at me and then shoots an anxious look to the door as if expecting her prick of a king to storm through any moment. “But I suppose this can’t hurt since it’s common knowledge. Don’t tell him I told you my name, though, will you?”
Sands, this king clearly has control issues, if he’d get upset about a basic introduction... or that someone was being, stars forbid,kind. “I promise,” I say, pretending to lock my lips and throw away the key. “Please tell me about the ranks. I bet you’re one of the higher ones.”
She flushes with pleasure and props her hip onto an ornate trunk to the left of my bed. “We have four main divisions. Basic, which is the lowest proficiency, then mestial, then dominant, and lastly sovran. I’m dominant.” Her cheeks redden more. “That is, I’ll be tested as dominant in a few weeks. Most children are classified as basic when they initially manifest their numena, and then they grow from there. Not all do, however. Some only have one basic numen, which means limited power over one of the magical pillars.”
My mind races as I try to keep up, but forewarned is forearmed, especially with a king who wants to kill me. “Pillars?”
“Yes. Magic is classified into three affinities.” She warms to her subject, her hands moving animatedly. “Aether, which includes any kinetic magic like elemental, nature, time, and weather magic. Psionic, which covers mind magic, precognition, dreams, hallucinations, illusions, and divination. And the last, corpus, relates to the body and includes animal magic, shapeshifting, and beast speech.” She pauses, frowning, and taps her chin. “Oh, and enchantments to enhance or hide one’s form or numena.”
Shapeshifting?I try to keep my jaw from dropping open. By the maker, is that evenpossible?
“What kind of enchantments?” I ask.
An eager Ani hops up onto the trunk and settles into a more comfortable position. “A magi with a corpus designation can enchant an amulet to protect its wearer or a cloak to make someone invisible, for example. Corpus also includes healing and necromancy.”
“Necromancy?” I gasp. “Like raising the dead?”
She gives me a solemn nod, face earnest. “It’s forbidden, along with summoning and sanguimancy. Blood magic.” From her sudden, fretful expression, Ani looks like she wants to say more about the subject, but doesn’t. “So there you go. Those are the three main pillars of magic, aether, psionic, and corpus.”
“That’s incredible,” I say, and let out a small laugh.
Why isn’t any of this information in books about Everlea and the historical records of magic? Is the history I’ve always known incorrect or not the full picture? Though my mind is cluttered with a thousand questions, it feels good to keep it occupied with something new instead of worrying about what I can’t remember.
“Do your people pull from different affinities?”
“Some do,” Ani says. “But it’s rare—” She breaks off, clapping a hand to her mouth as the door swings open and all the levity dies a dismal death. Ani scrambles off the trunk and drops her body into a curtsy worthy of a royal court. “Sire, your... guest is awake.”
King Darrius’s compelling presence instantly fills the room, making it seem much smaller than it is. His starkly beautiful face is as stony and uncommunicative as it had been previously, but he’s no longer wearing his armor. Instead, a fawn-colored tunic sits over dark fitted breeches and worn brown boots, his imposing frame sleeker and more sinewy now without the intimidating breastplate and spined epaulets.
His wealth of silver hair has been gathered into a loose knot, drawing attention to his sweeping cheekbones and his otherworldly bone structure. Those inky tattoos thicken and wind down the column of his neck, disappearing under his neckline. I wonder how far down they go and then force myself to abandon that course of thinking immediately.
When his piercing gaze meets mine, I feel that same strange tug—much stronger now—in my center. I dismiss it as nerves... or pure unfiltered loathing. The man simply gets under my skin.
Displaying any weakness to him would be a mistake, so I lift my chin and opt for bravado. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Are you ready to talk?” he asks, that velvet and ash voice sliding over me. “Or now that you’re no longer on death’s doorstep, shall we see whether you choose the carrot or the stick?”
I roll my eyes. “Sands, has anyone ever told you that your charm is outstanding?”
One corner of his mouth curls, but he doesn’t respond to my baiting. “Enough prevaricating. What do you remember?”
