The girl brandished the wand again. “Long enough to know that this will make me a queen in these parts.”
“A queen?” the Keeper echoed with some amusement. Then, as he dwelled on the implications of her statement, his expression turned serious. “Have you used this, Clayda?”
“Maybe.”
Kassian looked from the wand tip to Clayda’s wild blue eyes. Knowledge of the ancient language was required to perform spells, but the Keeper knew well that children with a connection to the realm of magic possessed a raw power that, if aided by Demetrium, could conjure a spell or two given the right conditions.
“You look hungry, Clayda,” he said, changing the subject. “Would you like to accompany me back to the keep? I can get you food there. New clothes perhaps. I’m sure there would be someone who could—”
“I’m doing just fine on my own,” Clayda asserted. “With those smelly black knights gone I’ve finally got this place to myself again.”
Kassian resisted the urge to simply pick the child up and take her to the keep. “Then I shall take my leave,” he announced, rising to his full stature. “And I would take my wand with me.”
Clayda took a step back and held the wand in both hands. “I found it. It’s mine now.”
The Keeper bit his lip, wondering how he had ended up in this alley. “I’ll tell you what,” he began. “I will give you this wand if you give me that one.”
Clayda frowned. “Why would I want that one?”
“I can see that you know a lot about wands.”
“I do!” she boasted.
“So you know that they are always far more powerful in the hands of the one who made them. You see, the Demetrium in their core attunes to the magic of their wielder over time.”
“I knew that!” the girl clarified.
“Good. So then you also know that wand has spent too many years by my side to harmonise with the magic of any other. But this wand,” he continued, holding Fin’s in the air. “This wand has no master. If it were to be wielded by one as brave as my friend, however, it could make a fine mage out of them.”
Clayda stared at Fin’s wand, her imagination set alight. Without a word, she snatched it from Kassian’s hand and thrust his own back at him. The Keeper relished in the feel of his own wand again. Its weight, grip, and size were perfect, made to his exact specifications.
He looked back down at Clayda. “Magic is a gift,” he told her. “It should never be used to hurt people, only protect them; including yourself if you must. One day you’re going to have questions about all this. When that day comes, go to the keep and tell them you wish to speak with Kassian Kantaris. Wherever I am in the realm, they will find me and I will return here to answer all your questions.”
Clayda continued to look up at him for a moment, but her youthful features concealed her thoughts. Then, without warning, she turned on her heel and ran until she disappeared. Kassian’s mind was faced by the guilt of withholding the wand from Fin’s final resting place, but the young mage would never have wanted his wand to rot in the ground had he the choice. And he definitely would have liked Clayda and her fiery soul.
His wand returned to its rightful place on his thigh, Kassian backed out of the alley before turning to continue his journey up the slope.
Inara tied the last knot around one of Athis’s spinal horns, securing their sack of supplies for the journey. Dropping back down to the snow, she watched her parents bid Gideon farewell. The three of them had so much history - it wasn’t fair that they were reunited for a day before duty pulled them apart again. She would have continued to watch them, waiting for her mother to squeeze Gideon in one of her crushing hugs, but Vighon crossed her line of sight.
The king was about to approach when Nathaniel brought him into their conversation with Gideon. He flashed Inara an apologetic look before replying.
He makes you happy, Athis acknowledged.
Inara felt instantly awkward and she hated it. You know it isn’t him or you - I don’t need to choose. There are just…
Two halves to you now, Athis said. I know this. The same is happening within me, though not so keenly. I know you continue to battle your emotions and there are limits to what I can help your human side with.
So you’re not… jealous?
The dragon chuckled in her mind but made no physical sign of amusement. I am Athis the ironheart! I know who I am and I do not get jealous. But I will not lie to you; the thought of you sharing things with another instead of me does dampen my spirit. But it will never overcome the joy I feel for you. Love is an exceptional power in this world, one that can keep us standing when all else abandons us. I am glad you have found this in Vighon. He is a good man.
Inara caressed the hard scales along Athis’s jaw line. I have love for you both, just as I feel love from you both.
And it will never fade, wingless one.
Inara shared in the warmth that swelled in Athis’s heart. She couldn’t rightly say what path she would have taken had the dragon rejected Vighon as a suitable mate or expressed real hate at the idea of sharing her emotionally with another person.
A playful squawk turned Inara to her feet, where Avandriell skipped across the ground and bounded up the side of Athis. There was an immediate change in the red dragon as he took great pleasure in the hatchling. From his memories, Inara knew it had been decades since he had enjoyed the company of one so young.
As one always accompanied the other, Inara turned around to see Asher approaching her. Considering he had recently chased an Arakesh
