“My pleasure.”
Standing in the middle of the shattered pieces was a woman with a waterfall of black hair pouring over her shoulders and back, all the way down to her hips. She wore a dress as deep blue as the sea, which flowed down around her, billowing in wind that had filled the room when the vase broke. An iridescent sheen covered her fair skin. Her dark eyes widened as if she too had received a shock upon arriving in the room.
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice musical and enchanting.
“That was my question,” Armannii said, reaching for his bow and quiver. But he stopped when the woman’s stare locked onto him. Armannii cocked his head to the side, raising his chin as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You are?”
“I—” The woman froze when she noticed the fragments of the vase on the ground. “What did—how did—I’m free?”
“Free?” Diomedes asked, raising an eyebrow at her as he rose to his feet from the cot.
“You broke my vessel. You freed me.” A trill of delight filled her voice as a wide grin spread across her face.
Armannii shifted, adjusting the collar of his tunic beneath his vest, which drew Diomedes’s attention to him. “So it’s true. Y-you’re one of them.”
“What?” Diomedes asked, frustration at a lack of answers beginning to fill him. “What just happened?”
“My name is Blanndynne. Blanndynne Serpenni. I’ve been in that vase for . . .” Her voice trailed off, and when she spoke again, it was barely a whisper. “I’m not sure how long.”
“She’s a genie, Didi.” Armannii let out a laugh and ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe it was real. I saw the runes on the vase, b-but I didn’t think it was real. I didn’t know genies were still in existence.”
The woman smiled, showing a perfectly straight row of white teeth. “Of course we exist. Why wouldn’t we?” Her smile turned into a frown as she glanced from Diomedes to Armannii, their silence growing longer by the second.
Diomedes cleared his throat. “Most magic creatures were either killed or sent into exile. Genies, rare as you already are, were amongst that group.”
“Wait. What?” Blanndynne crossed her arms over her chest, a piece of her long hair getting trapped in the crease between her arms.
Armannii sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s true. The king rounded up crowds of magic folk and had mass executions. Killed groups of vampires, fae, elves, werefolk, and others.”
Diomedes couldn’t stop his back from going rigid at the mention of his great-grandfather.
Blanndynne, who already had fair skin, blanched. Diomedes moved to the side as she crossed the room and sank onto the cot behind him.
“This is all new to you?” Diomedes asked, genuine curiosity filling his voice.
“Of course it is,” she snapped, rubbing her forehead. “I’ve been in my vessel for goodness knows how long.”
“I’d always read about how powerful genies were. I guess I would’ve thought you’d find a way around the magic in your vessel.”
She glanced at the fractured pieces on the ground. “The vessel was tied to my magic. It was as strong as I am.”
Diomedes knew genies possessed a unique mixture of both dark and light magic, the two pure forms of magic that could be passed down human family lines from generation to generation. However, the two types of magic were almost always clashing. That was what made genies so powerful. When used in conjunction with each other, light and dark magic became even more formidable than either one used alone. Outside of genies, combining the two was almost unheard of and was only used when powerful and potentially dangerous magic was needed.
“So, it’s fragile?” Armannii joked, a grin on his lips until she looked up at him with a glare piercing through her dark eyes. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“Why did all this killing start?” Blanndynne finally asked, turning her attention back to Diomedes.
He struggled to swallow as he sat down on the opposite cot next to where Armannii stood. “My great-grandfather started a war against magic.”
“Why?”
“If you ask my history tutors, they’ll tell you it’s because magic is inherently evil and was spreading like a plague.” When he spoke next, he tried to imitate the obnoxious voice of his least favorite tutor. “But King Kylian saved Phildeterre when he fought back against the death and destruction of those with magic.”
“Kylian? He became king? He was your great-grandfather? How long was I—that’s—” Her eyes widened, and she clutched at the fabric of her dress as if it could ground her in what Diomedes and Armannii were telling her. “That’s so much time. And Kylian becoming king? I never would’ve thought . . .”
Diomedes sat up straighter and exchanged a glance with Armannii. “How do you know him?”
“I was friends with Elias.” She paused as she switched her gaze between them, clearly trying to control the panicked look on her face; it shone through her eyes, which flickered with confusion, giving her away. “His older brother.”
Armannii pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against. “Kylian had a brother?”
“No,” Diomedes said, tilting his head to the side. “Kylian was an only child. All of the history books say so.”
“Well, your history books must be wrong,” Blanndynne said, smoothing out the velvety fabric of her dress. “I knew Elias well. Unlike his brother, Elias understood the beauty and the use for magic. He even asked me to be part of his council when he became king so those with magic would have representation in the kingdom of Cyanthia.”
Diomedes rubbed a hand over his chin, scratching at the scruff growing there. “When was the last time you were out of your vase?”
“I-I remember getting into a fight with Elias, and he sent me back into the vessel.”
Armannii stepped forward. “Well, let’s assume for a second that you’re telling the truth about Kylian’s brother. If that’s the case, you’ve been in there for basically three generations.”
Blanndynne’s eyebrows knitted together, and she sighed as she lowered her face into her hands.
Diomedes watched her, waiting for some sign of her magic. Given how many books he’d read, he knew how well light and dark magic reacted to emotions. And since genies had a unique mixture of both magic types, he waited in anticipation to see what it would look like. But it didn’t show.
“He lied.” Blanndynne’s voice was soft, and Diomedes focused on her words.
“Who lied?” Diomedes asked.
“And about what?” Armannii added, sitting down on the cot next to Diomedes. It creaked under their weight.
Blanndynne sat up. She ran her fingers underneath her eyes, which appeared glassier than when she’d first looked away. “Elias. H-he lied. Like every other master I’ve had.” She paused, her gaze shifting back over to the vase. “He promised to free me.”
“I didn’t know that was even possible,” Diomedes said, following her gaze to the vase. “How did I—I mean, did I—”
“Yeah,” she said, a small smile crossing her face. “I have you to thank for that. Prince . . . ?”
“Diomedes,” he said, tilting his head in acknowledgment of her thanks. “And this is Armannii.”
Armannii offered his hand across the gap between the cots, and Blanndynne took it. “Sorry we didn’t introduce ourselves earlier.”
She nodded, letting go of his hand. “Thank you for freeing me,” she said, directing the words toward Diomedes.
“You’re thanking me for breaking your vase? Seems odd.” Diomedes scoffed, bending down to pick up a shard that had skittered over the uneven floorboards and landed at his feet. He examined it in the light before shoving it into his pocket.
“Only a direct member of a royal line can free a genie from their vessel. Unless your elf friend is royalty, which I highly doubt—”
“Rude.” Armannii chuckled under his breath.
“Then you must be the one who freed me,” she said, shrugging. “If you hadn’t been royalty, then my vase would’ve fixed itself, and I’d still be trapped.”
“Hmm,” Diomedes said, regarding the broken vase. A question popped into his head, and he spoke it before he could think it through. “Does that mean you don’t have to grant wishes?”
Blanndynne raised an eyebrow, cocking her head to the side. “No.” She glanced down at her hands. “And if I didn’t feel it inside me, I would’ve said I don’t have my magic now that I’m free. I feel, well, weaker than I remember.”
“Maybe that’s an effect of being free,” Armannii said, scratching the back of his head. “And from what I know, if you can feel it, it will probably come back with time and practice.”
Diomedes nodded, although he felt a small wave of disappointment. It would’ve been useful to have a powerful genie on their side.
“Look, I know this is all new and overwhelming, so maybe we should go to sleep and then talk more tomorrow,” he said, glancing at Armannii, who nodded in agreement.
“All right, but I have one more question.” She waited for them to confirm it was okay to proceed before asking. “Where are we? Last I remember, I was in the Cyanthian castle, but this definitely isn’t it.”
“The Black Forest,” Armannii said, grabbing one of the pillows and tossing it on the floor between the two cots. He stood up and used the side of his shoe to push the vase fragments into a small pile at the end of the cot on which Blanndynne sat.
Clearly satisfied, Armannii moved to the pillow he’d tossed and sat down on it. Within a second, he started pulling off his boots one at a time. Diomedes turned up his nose, frowning at his friend.
“What? My feet hurt.”
“And stink,” Diomedes muttered as he pushed off the cot and grabbed his bag. He decided to let Blanndynne stay on the cot he’d claimed. It didn’t matter as long as he got to sleep soon. It felt like he was approaching the end of a never-ending day. His time spent reading his book on dragons that morning felt like it had happened years earlier.
“Where in the Black Forest?” Blanndynne asked as she watched the men move about the room as they prepared to go to sleep.
Armannii unbuttoned his vest and tossed it to the side of his bag. He ran a hand through his brown hair, pushing it away from his face. “In a tree house.”
“Where?” Blanndynne repeated, her face scrunching.
“On the west side of the Cylan River, but not by much.” Armannii scooted forward and then leaned back on his elbows. “And with that, I bid you both good night.”
Diomedes, who was rummaging through his bag in search of another tunic, glanced up to find Blanndynne watching him. He gave up his search and tossed the bag on the ground.
“We’ll answer more questions in the morning. I promise. But we’ve had a long day.”
“A really long day.” Armannii’s voice came out muffled from the pillow he’d smushed his face into.
Blanndynne glanced between them, then nodded. “I understand. Thanks,” she said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “For freeing me, I mean.”
“My pleasure.”
Diomedes’s back ached, and he groaned when he sat up in the cot after a few hours of sleep. Not only had sleeping been physically uncomfortable, but it was mentally exhausting every time he woke up and realized he was neither home in his room nor alone.
What I wouldn’t give to be alone for a few minutes.
Leaning his head back against the wall, Diomedes focused his energy on everything that had occurred twenty-four hours earlier. After sifting past the council meeting, which made his blood boil under the heat of the wool blanket, he wondered what Forrest and Camile were doing and how Theo and Maisy were adjusting to their new life on the run. Ellayne’s face crossed his mind, and he found himself wishing he could tell her about the harpy and the genie. He knew she’d find them as fascinating as he did. But then he pictured his father and stepmother and the look of disappointment on their faces. What sort of persecution would they bring down on Tilly and Blanndynne? Surely his father would hold the same prejudice against them as he had Forrest and even Armannii.
Diomedes shifted, rolling so he stared at the ceiling. At some point in the night—Diomedes had been asleep and hadn’t noticed—Armannii must’ve gotten up and used his rune pen to lower some of the runes lighting up the room. It made the ceiling, which had been painted to look like a cloudy blue sky, difficult to make out. But still, he stared.
After some time, he wasn’t sure how long, he heard Armannii rustling on the floor beneath him. The thought that had been repeating in Diomedes’s mind since he’d switched to lying on his back came out of his mouth as soon as he could tell that Armannii was awake.
“We need to figure out a plan,” Diomedes said, leaning over on his side to stare down at the elf.
“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Armannii grumbled as he rubbed his hands over his face. His hair stood straight out on the right side of his head like a branch. Armannii tried to fix it, but despite his best efforts, the right side continued to have more volume than the left. “How long have you been up?”
“Long enough.” Diomedes tapped his fingers to a rhythm only he could hear before sitting up and running his hand through his hair. “And now that you’re up—”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘up,’ exactly,” Armannii mumbled from the ground.
“We should start thinking about what we’re going to do.” Diomedes pushed his blanket back as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
Blanndynne yawned as she sat up, pushing a large lock of hair from her face. “Good morning,” she said, grinning at Diomedes first and then down at Armannii. A pillow crease covered the left side of her face, but she didn’t seem to notice as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “And how wonderful it is to be waking up outside of that awful prison.”
Armannii made one last attempt at smoothing his hair before he gazed up at the genie. “Did you sleep while you were stuck in there? Or was it more like—”
“It was like I was unconscious, I suppose,” Blanndynne said, pulling her long hair to the side to smooth it out.
Diomedes’s eyes widened when a brush appeared in her hand. She stroked the bristles through, gently tending to any knots that were there.
If he had blinked, he would’ve missed the brush vanishing from sight. Frowning, he turned to see if Armannii had noticed the brush, but the elf was too busy putting on his vest.
“So this is kind of like the first sleep you’ve had in a hundred or so years?” Armannii asked as he flattened out his tunic beneath the leather vest.
Blanndynne nodded.
“Didn’t know genies slept,” Diomedes muttered as he stood up. While he wanted to change his tunic to a new one, he had no desire to change in front of the stranger, so he decided to wait.
“Well, they have to be at least some part human.” Armannii glanced at Blanndynne and then Diomedes. They both frowned. “I mean, you have dark and light magic, right? Only humans can have magic as pure as those two, and the fact that you have both must mean you have a little human in you. Right?”
“I can’t say I’ve ever given it much thought,” Blanndynne said, weaving her hair into a braid with nimble fingers.
“Do you get hungry or thirsty?” Armannii asked when he stood up, tossing the pillow he’d used onto Diomedes’s cot.
“Not as quickly as you would, but yes.” Blanndynne chuckled.
“You have magic though, so that’s good. It’s difficult sneaking one person with no magic into a magic sanctuary; I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it would be to get two out. Tilly would have a fit,” Armannii said, then explained who Tilly was when Blanndynne asked.
“And she’ll probably be wondering when you got here,” Diomedes added after Armannii had finished his explanation. His muscles had clenched at the mention of his lack of magic, but he refocused his mind on the task at hand. “But before we go, we should maybe figure out where we’re going. Just a thought.” He shrugged as he put his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall across from the door.
“Right.”
“And where I’m going to go,” Blanndynne said, her voice softer than it had been.
Diomedes bit the corner of his lip as he looked at her. She met his eyes, and it wasn’t until Armannii passed between them to move his bag to his quiver and bow that they broke eye contact.
“You’re right,” Diomedes said, glancing at Armannii before resting his gaze on the genie again. “I doubt you’d want to get involved with us.”
“Especially this guy,” Armannii said, his tone light as he walked over and leaned on Diomedes’s shoulder. “I mean, he’s trouble with a capital T. Definitely don’t want to stick around him much longer, trust me. I—”
Diomedes cut him off by jabbing his elbow out and hitting the elf in the ribs. “But if you’re unsure of where to go, you are welcome to stick with us until you figure something out.”
While he’d only offered to be polite, he couldn’t help but think about the appearing and disappearing hairbrush. Hadn’t they spoken just the night before about whether her magic was still proficient? If she had made the brush appear and disappear without even noticing she’d done it, what else was she capable of? And more importantly, how much easier would it be to end the war with someone like her on his side?
A smile crossed his face as he regarded her. All that power. It was just a matter of figuring out how to tap into it.
“I mean, I do feel like I owe you something for freeing me.” Blanndynne rose to her feet, her gradient skirt falling to the floor like a waterfall. The fabric glistened in the light of the runes Armannii was brightening with his rune pen.
Diomedes let out a soft snort, then shrugged. “Having your knowledge of the past could certainly come in handy when it comes to trying to end the war.”
And her magic. But he didn’t mention that. He just smiled.
“I was actually thinking about that as I went to sleep last night. Well, not intentionally. I sort of just started thinking of Elias—” She paused when Diomedes frowned. “Kylian’s brother,” Blanndynne reminded him.
“Right. The one who didn’t exist.” He nodded, a smirk on his face. “Tell me more about him in all his imaginary glory.” Diomedes shifted to the cot, sitting down next to Armannii. He hadn’t noticed when the elf had sat on the thin mattress, probably because he’d been too busy imagining how powerful their new friend could be. Crossing one leg over the other, he rested his elbows on his legs and leaned forward with his chin on his hands, an eager student.
“He really existed, and he was the complete opposite of his brother. He—well, he came into possession of my vase.” She rubbed her hand up and down her arm as she glanced away. Her shoulders hunched over, and she lowered herself until she sat across from them as she had the night before. “It’s hard to explain. He was kind—kinder than any master I’d had before. He promised to free me before he’d used all three of his wishes, and I believed him. He let me stay out of my vase more than any of the others, and it started to feel like we were friends, not just master and servant. But . . .”
“He lied to you,” Diomedes finished when she stopped midsentence. She nodded.
“After he made his third wish, we got into an argument. He went back on his word. They all did, I suppose, although there were certainly some masters who didn’t even consider trying to find someone from a royal line to free me. Too much greed.” She glanced up and cleared her throat. “Sorry, I should explain. Genies can’t be freed once the final wish has been made. After that, we’re often sent back into our vessels for the next person to find. The argument I had with Elias was the last time I saw him. He sent me into my vase. Next thing I knew, I was standing in here.”
“Basically a hundred years later,” Armannii added as he scratched his chin. “Well, as far as I could tell, your vase had been in the castle vault for a long time. It sounds like after your argument, you landed in a pile of gold. He must’ve put your vessel in there to keep you from ending up with a new master. Still begs the question of what happened to him after though.”
Diomedes shook his head as he ran his fingers through his hair. “But that’s a good observation.” He pointed at Armannii, who raised an eyebrow. “Something must’ve happened to Elias. He was supposed to be king, right?” He waited for Blanndynne to nod as confirmation before he continued. “So what if we start there?”
“You mean by looking into someone who didn’t exist by all accounts except hers?” Armannii asked.
“Exactly. Something must’ve happened. And it sounds like it might’ve happened around the start of the war, which could be exactly what we need to find—something that could ruin the perfect image history has given Kylian. It could put his war to bed once and for all.”
“How does someone get erased from history?” Blanndynne asked, wrapping the end of her braid around and around her finger.
“And how do you even begin to search for evidence of that when every book you and I have ever read said that Kylian was an only child?”
Diomedes rubbed his cheek and then the back of his neck, frowning at a random spot on the floor. The chain from his medallion pulled at the baby hairs on the back of his neck, and he winced.
Then his eyes widened.
“The catacombs.” Diomedes straightened up, his heart beating faster as the plan unfolded in front of him. “If we can’t find any information about Kylian’s brother in books, we should see if we can at least find his body.”
Armannii shook his head, scoffing. “And then what, raise him from the dead and chat with him? It’s not like your ancestor is going to come back to life and tell us what really happened three generations ago.”
“Who says the dead can’t talk?” Diomedes asked, glancing between Blanndynne and Armannii.
“I don’t like where this is going.” Armannii crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the wall.
“Listen,” Diomedes said, holding both of his hands out as he talked. “Elias was royalty. All the royals of the Cyanthian and now Phildeterre line are buried in the royal catacombs.”
“What do you mean by Phildeterre line?” Blanndynne asked, a look of confusion crossing her face.
“My grandfather, King Valryn, united the five kingdoms of Phildeterre under one king. But we can discuss that later. What’s important is that we find Elias’s grave, and then we can talk to him. It might not end the war right away, but it might help us find the kind of information that could end this massacre.”
“You’re joking, right? Tell me he’s joking.” Blanndynne leaned back on the cot across from them, her arms crossed over her body like Armannii’s.
“No. No, he’s dead serious,” Armannii said, chuckling. “But if I’m remembering correctly, raising the dead is a huge no-no when it comes to magic.”
“It’s one of the laws governing genies too,” Blanndynne added, nodding her head.
“Because then you get creatures like zombies, and no one likes zombies. And I highly doubt the court will be convinced by the walking dead.” Armannii smirked. “Unfortunately, they wouldn’t even take B here at her word because of the bias against magic.”
Diomedes groaned, knowing Armannii had a point. It would’ve been a great idea to have the account of an eyewitness like Blanndynne, someone who knew King Kylian not just for the tremendous deeds written down by historians, but also for his pitfalls and sins.
Clicking his tongue, Diomedes grimaced. “I need to know if there were things about the war that got covered up when it first started. Something that would be reason enough to keep the war from continuing further.” Diomedes ran his fingers over his chin, feeling the stubble growing over it. He would need to find a razor sooner rather than later.
“Like how Elias disappeared and Kylian became king . . .” Blanndynne’s voice trailed off.
“Right. Deception from the throne. And that may just be the beginning. I’m really not sure. That’s why I want to talk to someone who was there at the start.”
Silence spread around them for several minutes until Blanndynne spoke in a soft voice. “Kylian spoke of war on magic long before he must’ve taken the throne. I remember when I first met him. When he realized I was a genie, he acted as if magic was a plague to be caught and I would somehow poison him if I even breathed the same air as him. He was horrible long before he became king and started the war.”
Armannii hadn’t spoken in a while, and Diomedes turned his attention to the elf. “You’re uncharacteristically quiet.”
Armannii took a second to acknowledge he had heard Diomedes, but then he nodded. “Maybe what you need is not to wake the dead, because I am not dealing with zombies today or any day soon, but to get them to sleeptalk.”
“Meaning?” Diomedes asked.
“You don’t bring your ancestors back, per se, but you might be able to rouse them enough for a little conversation through the veil. I know a man who could help, but we’re going to need something for the spell first.”
“All right,” Diomedes said, giving a brief nod. “That’s a good start. What do you need?”
Grinning, Armannii shrugged. “A bone.”
“Then the catacombs definitely seem like the right direction to head in,” Diomedes said, standing up at the same time as the other two.
“Lovely,” Blanndynne muttered, rolling her eyes. “Just what I wanted to do with my new found freedom.”