Page 125 of The Reckoning of Starlight

“What are you going to do?” Ayla demanded. “Kill her?”

“No.” The answer left Serenna too fast. “She’s a child.”

“So was he,” Vesryn said beside her. “Once.”

The infant’s attention drifted toward the window where light spilled in, eyes reflecting the sky as though she’d already learned to look past the walls of her cage.

Ayla lifted her chin, the tremor in her arms never reaching her voice. “So what comes next?” She hooked a finger under the golden collar at her throat. “You’ve stolen my freedom and the king’s heir. What’s your plan now, rebel?”

Serenna pursed her lips, recognizing Ayla steering the conversation somewhere she’d already decided to go.

“Jassyn heard Elashor boasting about the Falling Star Crater. He confirmed what you told us—that the king believes more Hearts of Stars are buried there.” Serenna straightened. “We’re going. This time, you’ll tell us what you held back.”

A ragged laugh broke from Ayla and died.

“Oh.” She shook her head slowly. “You’re serious.”

Fenn crossed to the open window and set one shoulder against the frame, his attention divided between Ayla and the islands floating beyond.

“The crater is Elashor’s campaign,” Ayla said before letting the silence lengthen, no doubt measuring what the secret was worth before naming its price. “And his forces won’t be the most dangerous thing waiting there.”

Cold crept between Serenna’s ribs. “What is?”

“The crater is more than a mine.” Ayla lifted one wasted hand. “No one knows what the Aelfyn left below.” Her voice lowered and the wind through the arches nearly carried it away. “The soldiers who returned had blood packed under their nails from clawing at the walls. Some begged Elashor to kill them. Others never came back at all.”

Serenna held her breath, Vesryn and Fenn going still with her.

“If your alliance means to survive what’s coming…” Ayla tucked the fabric close to her daughter’s chin as if she had all the time in the world. “You’ll need more than the handful of artifacts you’ve been playing war with.”

“The Starshards?”

Ayla rolled her eyes. “Whatever you call those gems you blood-bound yourselves to like fools.”

Serenna’s fingers closed around the crystal in her leathers before she caught herself. One yank would turn Ayla’s careful bargaining into a scream.

She withdrew her hand.

“And how would more Starshards actually help us against the king?”

“Your gems can link.” Ayla studied her, calculation sharpening through the exhaustion. “Surely you’ve stumbled on that by now.”

Prismatic threads flashed through Serenna’s memory from their fight in Asharyn, braiding her Starshard to Vesryn’s and Fenn’s until their joined Essence flooded her body.

Serenna crossed her arms. “The magic amplified when we channeled it together.”

“Now imagine dozens locked in synchronization, each one compounding Essence.” A thin smile touched Ayla’s cracked lips. “Perhaps you wouldn’t have lost a dragon to half-trained shamans if you understood what you hold.”

Fenn shook his head. “But those on your floating island had dozens of Starshards. If linking them offers more magics, the king—”

“He knows,” Ayla cut in without looking at him. “But he would never place that much concentrated power in another’s hands. He scattered the gems across Elashor’s campaigns, punishing any who even dare to think about it.”

“Elashor is dead,” Vesryn said flatly.

Ayla blinked. The infant stirred against her chest, and she drew her closer.

By the time Ayla spoke, her face was unreadable. “Then the king has no one left but the voices in his head.”

Vesryn exhaled through his nose. “He’s always hoarded power and trusted no one to wield it beside him. That’s his weakness. Perhaps the only one.”