Only, this time, the result was far different.
In that there was no result at all.
Light and shadow slammed into each other, sparking, and the void bolt roared as it devoured them. Suddenly there was nothing but amethyst barreling toward Alaric and Talasyn, no shield to stop it, and the Enchanters were screaming—
Talasyn’s world tilted abruptly as Alaric tackled her to the ground. She would have landed face-first, but his arms clamped around her, cushioning her from the worst of the impact. There was a guttural hiss as the void bolt swept past the space where they had just been standing. She was on her stomach, staring at the marbled pattern of the stone tiles as Alaric curled around her, over her. He expelled a quick breath, and as he did so, his soft lips grazed the shell of her ear. She could feel his heart pounding against her spine.
She didn’t know how long they lay there, adrenaline pulsing through their bodies, fit to burst. She felt small tucked beneath Alaric’s broad frame, surrounded by the warmth of him. As the sunlight grew hot against her head, she noted—as she had in that cell at the bamboo garrison, so long ago—that he smelled of sandalwood. There was a hint of cedar as well, and the peppery bite of juniper berry, warmed by a touch of sweet, resinous myrrh. He smelled like the alpine forests back on the Continent. What an odd thing for her to notice. What an odd thing for him to hold her like this.
Ishan and her Enchanters were running toward them, but their footsteps sounded muffled. The Kesathese crown prince blocked out everything else, as he always did.
Not the prince, Talasyn corrected herself in her daze. He’s the Night Emperor now.
“Are you all right?” he asked, low and hesitant. The words ghosted across her cheek, causing a shiver to shoot down the nape of her neck.
“Get off.” She elbowed him in the ribs, defensive for reasons she couldn’t explain.
By the time they had both scrambled to their feet, the Nenavarene Enchanters had formed a concerned huddle around them. Ishan was wringing her hands in dismay. “Lachis’ka!” she cried, pushing past Alaric in order to inspect Talasyn from head to toe. “I do apologize! From the way that it was described, I assumed that the shield could be replicated like—like that—” She snapped her fingers. “And I solemnly swear on the windswept bones of my foremothers that, had I suspected there was a chance of your magic not taking effect, I would never have fired—oh, Your Grace, can you ever forgive me?”
“I’m none the worse for wear, Daya Vaikar,” Talasyn hastened to reassure her. “But I don’t know why it didn’t work, either.” She frowned, looking down to examine her hands. “The circumstances aren’t much different from the two previous times.”
“The eclipse,” Alaric said quietly. He absentmindedly scratched at his jaw as he appeared to think it over. It was a boyish gesture, one that Talasyn couldn’t help but marvel at; but, when everyone’s attention snapped to him, his hand dropped back to his side and his demeanor immediately shifted, became colder, more imperious. His next words were more self-assured. “On both occasions when the Lachis’ka and myself successfully created a barrier, the moons were out and one of them was in eclipse.”
Ishan’s dark eyes went as round as the celestial bodies in question. Talasyn had come to know her as an inquisitive woman by nature, and now she saw Ishan’s mind churning with this new revelation. “Yes. That does make sense. Countless feats of aethermancy are tied to the natural world. Rainsingers in lands to the south can reportedly communicate with one another across great distances by looking into fresh puddles, while Firedancers to the east can do so in the flames of wildfire. I’ve certainly never heard of light and shadow magic forming a greater whole before, but a lunar eclipse strikes me as the prime moment for such a phenomenon to occur.” She rounded on her gaggle of Enchanters with alacrity, demanding, “When is the next one?”
“In a fortnight, my lady,” one ventured.
“Then, if Her Grace and His Majesty are willing, we will reconvene at the time of the eclipse and try again.” Ishan turned back to Alaric and Talasyn. “If I may also suggest—I noticed that the two of you conjured daggers earlier, which is offense magic. For our purposes, I believe that the barrier may be stronger if you were to craft shields and combine those.”
Alaric nodded readily enough, but Talasyn hung her head.
“I can’t make shields,” she muttered. “Or anything that doesn’t have a pointy end. I was taught the basics of aethermancy by a Shadowforged who defected to the Allfold. She didn’t have any formal training, so both of us were at a loss on some things.”
Alaric frowned, his eyes darting toward her and then away quickly. It was unclear if he was reacting to the mention of Vela or to the revelation that Talasyn had been lucky to survive the Hurricane Wars for as long as she did.
“I can teach you,” he said stiffly, still looking ahead.
And, before Talasyn could even process that, Ishan was stepping between them, clapping her hands in delight. “Wonderful! I’ve no doubt that Her Grace will prove as excellent a student in this as she has been in everything else.”
Talasyn shot a skeptical look over the top of Ishan’s head at Alaric. “Surely the skill of the instructor has a lot to do with it.”
He lifted one massive shoulder in a shrug, the ends of his thick black hair brushing against his high collar. “I have had formal training. That alone makes me more qualified than Ideth Vela, regardless of any complaints you might care to lodge against my character.”
“Your character,” Talasyn retorted, “is just one of the many complaints that I have about you, Ossinast.”
They glared at each other as an uncomfortable Ishan edged away. Perhaps her anger had not run dry after all, Talasyn thought darkly. Count on her hatred for His Royal Ninnyhammer to cut through the numbness. It was a mixed blessing, but she would take it.
Chapter Nineteen
A schedule was begrudgingly agreed upon. For the next fortnight, Alaric and Talasyn would attend marriage negotiations in the morning and practice aethermancy in the afternoon. If the negotiations wrapped up with plenty of time to spare before the eclipse, they’d then spend whole days training.
Because Talasyn was certainly in no mood to talk to her grandmother, it was Ishan Vaikar who prevailed upon Queen Urduja to have the sariman cages moved further away from the orchid garden that connected the Lachis’ka and the Night Emperor’s respective bedchambers. The atrium was too accessible to everyone, and Talasyn had no wish to be gawked at on a daily basis.