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‘Interesting creature you are. I thought you’d perished in the swamps. I was so looking forward to making you my pet project. Now here you are, Queen of Dagome, such an unexpected bonus,’ he crooned, holding me tight during a difficult sequence of steps.

‘You’re boring me,’ I drawled. ‘What do you want? You can’t lock me in magic-nullifying shackles here, so… what is the point of this circus?’

‘Do you know why an Empire expands?’ he asked, leading with a grace I wouldn’t expect from a military man.

‘You’re greedy bigots who can’t tolerate seeing other kingdoms thrive?’ I quipped, and he sighed.

‘Don’t play the simpleton with me, Roksana. We both know life isn’t that black and white.’

‘Fine, then enlighten me. Why? What justifies raising the pillars? Sacrificing your people?’ I wished this dance would end, or that I could sink my dagger into his rotten heart.

‘Tangra was once the land of plenty. A paradise, you might say…’

‘Then you offended the gods, and they turned it all into a desert, yada yada. What does that have to do with anything?’ Gods, I sounded like a petulant child, but his touch and the way he studied me like a specimen made my skin crawl. That, and the memory of him shooting me with srebrec.

‘We didn’t offend the gods. A chaos mage lost his mind and control of his magic. He wanted more power than his body could accumulate. His spell trapped the Aether, and by the time he was stopped, the damage was done. Tangra was destroyed.’

That was new and nothing I had read in the manuscripts available in Dagome.

‘Aether can’t be trapped—’ I started, but the Prefect’s expression made me stop.

‘It can be. We learned from this, adapted, and erased spellcasting from our soil.’ He smiled, his hand trailing over my forearm in a gesture that should’ve been part of the dance but felt corrupted. ‘I apologise for our first meeting. You have a way to making things… change. Come with me. Help the Hierophant to revive our gardens and fields, and Tangra will withdraw. Dagome will survive, your king will live. Isn’t sacrifice the highest form of love?’

What the fuck was he talking about? Tension snapped my back straight while pressure rang in my ears. His proposal was absurd, yet the thought of war was worse. Not that I could ever trust my enemy’s words.

‘Even if I agreed, I don’t have enough power.’ I shrugged, gasping when he lifted me as effortlessly as Rey did.

‘Oh, but we have the needed power. Your mages still haven’t figured out the nature of the pillars and gates, have they?’ His gaze turned icy. ‘I know about your spies in Tivalaran and the stolen schemata. I saw the dragon in the sky as we travelled here…’

My breath caught, my lungs constricting as the painful certainty sank in: we’d missed a problem so big it threatened not just Dagome but life as we knew it.

‘The gates were never created to transport our army, Roksana, but judging by your face, you’ve already realised that.’ He glanced to the side.

The pressure building in my chest was more than a terrifying understanding of his words. Someone was casting, and the fluctuation of Aether was enough to move this ballroom into the Void.

‘Let me go!’ I shouted. Instead, he spun me, pressing my back to his chest.

‘In a moment, this entire place will cease to exist, and I don’t care about a single soul here, except you, Vivamancer.’ His grip tightened on my wrist. I blessed Danka for altering my dress as my free hand drifted to the dagger.

Screams erupted outside the ballroom just as a shimmering portal burst open near where the Lumivitae stood. Two high fae swayed on their feet, casting the spell while the Clericus and his men crossed the portal, each man assisted by a Lumivitae fae.

Illusion spell? No wonder no one had come to my aid. The rest of the guests swayed to the music as if they hadn’t noticed the change in the Aether and the shimmering portal whose mirrored surface covered the wall.

Prince Iasno’ta turned towards me, his palm touching his cheek, where the imprint of my hand was still red and angry. He gave me a mocking bow, gesturing to the Prefect who yanked on my wrist, but my dagger was already in motion, its upward movement aimed to open the Prefect’s belly.

‘Don’t be stupid. You come with me, or there’ll be war,’ he hissed, releasing my wrist to avoid my blade.

‘Then we will have war!’ I screamed, drawing on the Aether to shatter their illusion.

The resistance from the spell was unexpected. Something was draining my strength. I turned to Annika, but the conduit mage was as pale as a ghost, holding one hand to her mouth and the other protecting her stomach. The Fae, the mages, they all looked the same, as if something was eating them from the inside.

‘Come with me! Even you can’t survive this.’ The Prefect insisted as I strained under the onslaught of a hostile power.

‘Then I’ll die with them.’ I found the threads of the illusion spell and yanked so hard the backlash of power rendered the Lumivitae casters unconscious.

‘You will not! I’ll bring you to Tangra in shackles.’ My dagger clattered to the floor, but just as my opponent twisted my arm, Irsha roared in fury and rushed forward.

The Prefect cursed under his breath, releasing me and diving into the rapidly closing portal. All the Lumivitae Fae had already crossed, leaving the two unconscious mages slumped on the floor.