Had anyone other than Jessy dictated what he wore, Soren might have ignored them, but he’d move the stars for his sister if she asked—a consequence of his becoming her sole caregiver three years ago, when their self-centered parents had left them to fend for themselves. Their love for each other was deeply rooted, with Soren taking pains to make sure Jessy was happy, and her in turn knowing what it cost him and doing her best to return the favor—when she wasn’t causing mischief, which, admittedly, was most of the time.
“Now that Viri’s here, can we eat?” Jessy asked, jiggling in her seat.
“Go ahead,” Sarielle invited. She patted the chair beside her for Viri to take, her silky peach pajamas shimmering as she leaned in to ask, “All right, darling?”
Peering into Sarielle’s comforting blue eyes, Viri knew what her guardian was really asking. There was a firm no-work-talk rule at family night, but Sarielle had undoubtedly heard about Viri’s unsanctioned visit to Reeve—and her week of desk duty as a result.
“I’ve been better,” Viri replied. “But I only have myself to blame.”
And Reeve—she could blame him, too.
For so many things.
“The time will pass before you know it.” Sarielle squeezed Viri’s arm in reassurance. “Then you can forget everything about today, like it never happened.”
Thatwas unlikely, but Viri offered a weak smile in agreement, determined not to give Reeve any more mental space tonight. Grabbing a handful of popcorn, she asked, “What are we playing?”
“We couldn’t decide, so you’re the tiebreaker,” Soren said, sliding a bowl of melted chocolate across the table, knowing Viri liked to drizzle it over her popcorn. She refused to think of the silver-eyed boy who had first introduced her to the sweet-and-salty creation, and the fact that he was rotting in a cell at this very moment.
“It’s between Mage Quest and Dungeon Escape,” Jessy said around a mouthful of berries.
After the day she’d had, Viri grimaced at the idea of playing Dungeon Escape—a game that would require her to help free her teammate from prison—so she said, “Let’s go with Mage Quest. I’m in the mood for magic and treasure.”
Within minutes, the table was cleared and the board set up. They’d all played enough times to know their preferred characters:Jessy, an elemental mage; Soren, a nature mage; Sarielle, a glamour mage; Viri, a warrior mage; and Wynter, an alchemist mage.
As they began rolling the dice and moving their characters across the board, completing quests for treasure rewards, Viri’s mind wandered to the mages of old and the world they’d lived in—a world that could very well still exist beyond Elverdine Isle. The blackmist was so isolating that no one knew whether magic flourished elsewhere, or if there were any mages left. In ancient times, their numbers had been few, with most of the population made up of shallows—people who, upon reaching puberty, maintained shallow enough levels of ellixen to keep them from using all but the smallest of magics. Only those whose ellixen continued to grow after age fourteen were considered to have enough power to train in the magical arts, and thus became mages.
It had been many generations since such a person had lived on Elverdine Isle—indeed, it was impossible for any of them to be mages now, not when they surrendered all but a drop of their ellixen to fuel the obelisks.
Viri didn’t mind; it seemed a fair trade, given that doing so protected them from reapers and the blackmist, and also from burnout—the painful death or, perhaps worse, mindless existence that came with a buildup of unstable ellixen, and befell anyone who didn’t yield their magic by age fourteen. Long ago, the shallows and mages had all been taught how to control their ellixen—no matter its strength—and so avoided any risk of burnout, but that knowledge had been forgotten in time, leaving all those who remained on the isle no choice but to rely on the obelisks to absorb their magic and keep them safe.
Again, Viri felt it was a fair trade. Death by reaper, death byblackmist, death by burnout—none of those things appealed to her. At all.
“You’re quiet tonight, Viri,” Jessalyn said, jolting Viri from her thoughts. “You didn’t even notice when I stole your dragon to overthrow the Malevolent Queen.”
Viri frowned down at the board, seeing Jessy was right. “Sorry. Long day.”
“I hear you.” Jessy blew out a dramatic breath. “We studied reapers in school. Talk about boring.”
“Boring?” Soren raised his brows. “I think you mean ‘important’ and ‘potentially lifesaving.’ ”
“No, I meant boring,” Jessy repeated, rolling her eyes. “I already knew everything.”
“Is that so?” Soren’s expression turned challenging. “Where do reapers live?”
Jessalyn groaned. “Really?”
“I’d like to hear the answer,” Sarielle interjected, looking amused as she sipped her herbal tea—something she had no idea was one of Wynter’s concoctions, intended to help with relaxation and stress relief. “It’s important for me to know that the Scholars’ Guild is maintaining a high standard of education.”
Jessalyn saw right through Sarielle’s ploy, but with a long-suffering sigh, she recited, “Reapers can live anywhere they want—the uppercity, the undercity, the inner-mountain—just like anyone else.”
“How do they stay hidden?” Wynter jumped in, nibbling on a wedge of cheese.
“They don’t need to,” Jessy said. “They look just like us.” When Soren opened his mouth to correct her, she quickly added, “Their veins turn black after they siphon and stay that way untilthe magic fades, but only reapers and hunters can see them. No one else.”
“And why is that?” Sarielle asked.
“The reapers, we don’t know, though it’s probably because the stolen ellixen heightens their senses. But the hunters—” Jessalyn gestured to Viri’s palm. “It’s because of their marks. The ink used is magical and comes from a stylus gifted to the first hunters by the ancient mages. It lets them recognize reapers and also feel when they’re near.”
