Page 86 of Dhampira

“Don’t coddle her,” Lorcan said, his eyes on me. “If she wants to speak the language of spellcasting, she can overcome a little confusion. Ignorance is just as dangerous as power.”

If the gods were just, my root word was going to be uci.

Vander must have read my intentions in my face because he stood, drawing my attention from Lorcan. “This might not be as confusing as I thought.” He slowed his speech, his words careful and deliberate. “As Lorcan said, just three vors can’t be reversed: ‘death,’ ‘truth,’ and ‘forget.’ But everything else can be unmade. Rix is the vor for reversal.” He brightened. “The good news is that you don’t have to earn it. You get it for free when you earn a vor. But you can only reverse a vor you already possess.”

I gathered my hair with both hands and held it away from my neck. “I get why ‘death’ can’t be reversed. But why are ‘truth’ and ‘forget’ permanent?”

Vander’s lips curved in a lazy smile. “You’ll have to ask the gods, my inquisitive one. I don’t make the rules.”

My nape heated. As memories of the previous night flooded me, I lowered my arms. When I looked at Lorcan, he watched me with the same cool detachment he normally wore. But was that a hint of anger in his eyes? Did he know Vander had come to my room?

He pointed to the rock. “Laro. Try again. And this time, actually apply yourself.”

My temper flared. “Why don’t you show me how you do it?”

“I can’t.”

“But you said the word. You’ve used it the whole time we’ve been here.”

“Because he’s already earned it,” Vander said. “Once you wield a vor, you can say it without risking rebound. That’s the suffocation you’re feeling. Vors require a specific gift to fuel them. Without it, you burn yourself out. You need a spark.” He spread his hands like he was weighing two objects. “Think of it like putting flame to pitch.”

“More like flint to steel,” Lorcan murmured, his gaze on the rock in the grass.

Vander bristled. “It’s the same thing.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

I followed their conversation, my gaze darting between them. They’d been terse with each other since we entered the Everless. And like the rebound Vander mentioned, every exchange grew more fraught.

“Excellent,” Lorcan said, the T sound sharp as a knife. The look he gave Vander was just as pointed. “Are you finished?”

“No,” Vander said, his cheekbones touched with pink. But it wasn’t embarrassment. No, he was clearly nettled as he stepped away from the bench. “You can’t just throw her into spellcasting without giving her basic explanations.”

Lorcan tilted his head. “You stood at the king’s side last night. Did you not hear him say the wedding will take place in two weeks?” He smiled. “Perhaps you were distracted.”

“I’m aware of the timeline,” Vander said. “I simply find your training methods less than productive.”

A mocking light danced in Lorcan’s eyes. “We should all strive to be more productive.” He swept a hand toward me. “By all means, Captain, share your knowledge of the vor scapa with the princess. Perhaps your assistance will produce more fruitful results.”

My aching throat went dry. Lorcan knew. He had to.

“Gladly,” Vander snapped. Then he looked at me. “Some vors are more powerful than others. And some are rare. It probably comes as no surprise that the rarest are also the most powerful. The witches duel for coveted vors. It’s a type of magical combat.”

“I thought they shied away from battle,” I said. “They use the werewolves to fight for them.”

Vander nodded. “That’s true, but they’re not cowards. Rasimir has drained so many witches, they flirt with extinction. The werewolves don’t have that problem. They breed easily and turn humans with little effort. The witches consider them expendable. Magical duels are different—and unavoidable if a witch wants more vors. They rip gifts from each other to gain more power.”

“And the covens allow this?” I asked. It didn’t sound all that different from a vampire draining beings to death to steal magic.

Lorcan offered a mirthless laugh. “They encourage it. The witches aren’t that different from the vampires they despise.”

“With an important distinction,” Vander said. “The witches don’t kill when they duel. Although most witches who lose their root power wish for death.”

A chill went down my spine. “Why?”

“Root words are like a witch’s heart and soul bound up together,” Vander said. “It’s who they are at their core. Some witches speak their root vor even before they speak a word of the Common Tongue. If they lose their root word, they lose all ability to work magic. They can’t cast, not even to defend themselves. They might as well be human.”