Page 85 of Dhampira

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He nodded toward the weaving lights. “They’re hobflies. A species of fairies too small to see with the naked eye except for their light. Rasimir killed their king centuries ago. He keeps their queen under a glass in his chamber. The hobflies serve to ensure her safety.”

Nausea swept me. Every chandelier. Every candle. Each time Delphine brought a lamp, she added more captives to my chamber.

I had to swallow before I could speak. “Is anything in Nocta free from Rasimir’s cruelty?”

“No,” Vander said, stepping from behind a tree. “Nothing in Nocta is free.” He looked past me to Lorcan. “Took you long enough.”

Lorcan smoothed his hair as he moved to my side. “Headwinds.”

They stared at each other, and my nape tingled. Was I imagining tension?

Vander grunted.

No. The tension was real.

Finally, Vander glanced around. “We shouldn’t linger.” He extended a hand to me. “Come, Princess.”

My throat dry, I took it, letting him guide me forward. “Zid,” he murmured, and blue raced from one tree to another. Vander brought me to a halt, his silver eyes finding mine. “Mesu.”

The Everless materialized, its soaring wall, ruined steps, and solemn statue the same as before.

I looked around. When I turned back to Vander, he watched me as if he’d never stopped. My stomach did a flip. “What does mes—?” My throat closed. An invisible fist squeezed the air from my lungs.

“Mesu means ‘middle,’ ” Vander said, guessing my question.

Lorcan strode to the grass. He stopped and faced Vander and me, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Time to train.”

18

An hour later, I knew I had no chance of defeating Rasimir.

I staggered backward, my throat on fire and a fierce headache pounding between my eyes. Vander rose from the bench we’d occupied my first time in the Everless, concern on his face as he started toward me.

“I’m fine,” I croaked, waving him off. He looked skeptical, but he sank back down.

“Try again,” Lorcan said, standing across the grass with his arms folded over his chest. His face was bored as he pointed to the palm-sized rock sitting on the ground halfway between us. “Laro. It means ‘light,’ and it’s the simplest word in the vor scapa. Even children can say it. Picture a candle in your mind. Then imagine its flame flowing from your head and into the rock.”

He made it sound easy. And judging from the mix of disappointment and worry on Vander’s face, it should have been easy. Lorcan didn’t look worried. Disappointment, however, he had in spades.

Panting, I squared my shoulders. Sweat dampened my back. We’d been “training” since we entered the Everless, and I hadn’t made any progress. After an hour of trying to discover my root word, I was no closer to speaking the vor scapa than I’d been since I crossed the Feyline. But I was a great deal closer to murdering Lorcan and dancing around his corpse.

“Today, if possible,” he said.

Fresh pain seared my throat when I swallowed, and my voice emerged as a hoarse rattle as I asked, “What’s the magic word for castration?”

On the bench, Vander coughed and then rubbed a hand over his mouth.

Lorcan studied me. “I couldn’t say. If you’re looking to temporarily incapacitate an opponent, you could use olnava to stun them. For something permanent, the vor you want is uci, which means ‘kill’ or ‘death.’ Uci is one of just three vors that can’t be reversed.”

I wiped sweat from my forehead. “What are the other two?”

“One means ‘truth.’ The other means ‘forget.’ Witches who wield the irreversible vors as their root word are exceptionally powerful. And dangerous.”

Well. That obviously wasn’t me. “How do you reverse the other words?”

Vander frowned from the bench. “We don’t want to make things overly complicated right now.”