Page 13 of A Kiss of Healing & Honor (Darkstone Academy #4)

Gwydion was curled up on my sitting room sofa, fast asleep, when I returned to my room to meet with my sister and Gwydion to assess our progress towards carrying out our plan.

He sat up when I walked in. Despite his nap, he looked even more fragile and exhausted than he had before.

With a stab of worry, I wondered whether he was falling ill. If this rescue mission was going to succeed, we needed him strong and healthy.

“Ilhan, I believe I may have a solution to our transportation woes,” he said before I could share my good news about the Djinni’s aid.

He yawned widely, then continued, “I’ve been thinking about what boon to request from Branwen the Golden-Handed. And I have it! She can help me conjure a ship from a seashell to carry us—and whatever men-at-arms that Castellan Guisbald can spare—to the duke’s fleet.”

I stared at him incredulously. “You can build us a boat?”

And why didn’t you mention this earlier? I thought but didn’t say out loud.

Gwydion nodded. “In theory… yes. But like most major magical workings of the Fae, there’s a catch. Creating and maintaining a construct of that size draws heavily upon its creators.”

I nodded, remembering Lady Erzabetta had been bedridden for days after she conjured two false Dragons to attack the castle.

Even after a good night’s sleep and two hearty meals, Gwydion still looked half-dead after yesterday’s strenuous healing spells.

Can he really manage another major magical working so soon?

“Even with two Fae working the ship spell, we would only have an hour at most before the vessel returns to its original form,” he continued. “If it cannot reach land or another vessel by then…”

He trailed off, the implication clear. Everyone on board would be flung into the hungry waves to drown or feed hungry sharks and other beasts of the ocean deeps.

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. Is it too risky? I wondered.

Tama had given me the precise heading and distance to the duke’s fleet… and even with Air magic spells summoning a gale-force wind to propel our ship, it would take several hours to reach Jacinthe’s location.

But every moment we delayed was another opportunity for the duke and his mages to escape.

“Jacinthe has other friends here,” Alondra said. “Maybe we could recruit them to help with the spell? I’m sure Lady Karminn de Monopia and Lord Mariota would lend their powers. I’ve heard they both have strong Wood and Air powers.”

I nodded. It sounded like a good idea.

“And what about Jacinthe’s friends among the servants?” Alondra continued. “What if we asked some of them to cobble together a raft out of wood instead of using a sea shell as the spell’s anchor? That way, if we run out of time before the spell fails, the passengers will have something to cling to.”

“That’s a good idea.” Gwydion sounded surprised. “I hadn’t thought—I mean, using a shell is traditional among the Fae. But there’s no reason we can’t try using something else to anchor the shipbuilding spell. I’ll consult with Princess Branwen and get her opinion.”

“Good.” Alondra beamed, clearly pleased that we were taking her suggestions seriously. “I’ll go talk to Jacinthe’s friends and ask them to help us.”

“Are you sure we can trust them?” Gwydion asked.

Alondra bit her lip. “I think so,” she replied. “Anyway, I’d trust Jacinthe’s friends before I’d trust any of the other Mage-Instructors.”

“You have a point,” I said. “And we need all the help we can get.”

∞∞∞

As I headed for Castellan Guisbald’s office, my mind churned with the myriad details of our impending rescue mission. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily upon my shoulders.

Father could organize and carry out a rescue mission like this without missing a beat or second-guessing himself. I only hoped that I would be equal to the challenge.

Lost in thought, I almost didn’t notice the figures crossing the courtyard in front of the Great Hall until they were nearly upon me.

Mage Armand and Mage-Instructor Bevitrice stopped in front of me. Armand’s weathered face was set in lines of grim determination, while Mage Bevitrice’s usually serene expression held a steely resolve.

“Senior Apprentice Ilhan,” Mage Armand said. “A moment of your time, if you please.”

“Mage Armand, Mage Bevitrice,” I greeted, inclining my head respectfully. “How may I serve you?”

Whatever they wanted, I hoped it wouldn’t take long. Assuming the castellan agreed to all my requests, I still had a lot of tasks to accomplish before tomorrow.

“Senior Apprentice Gwydion informed us of your plans,” Armand replied, his tone gruff but not unkind. “We wanted to assure you of our support.”

Mage Bevitrice added, “We will not stand idly by while one of our students is in peril.”

“I thank you for the offer,” I said. I’d already made a list of things they could help us with. “Perhaps you can—”

Armand interrupted me. “I insist on accompanying you when you depart on your rescue mission.” His jaw set in a mulish expression. “These old bones may creak, but you’ll need our medical skills if anyone is injured.”

I hesitated, torn between gratitude and concern for their safety. Neither of them were young, and the rigors of the mission would be no small thing.

As if sensing my thoughts, Mage Bevitrice fixed me with a stern glare. “Don’t think to coddle me, Lord Ilhan. I’m not that old, and far from feeble.”

“Of course not, Mage Bevitrice,” I said, embarrassed. “It’s only that—”

Mage Armand interrupted me again. “Don’t try to dissuade us, apprentice. I have a duty to protect the Princess-Royal, just as I did her mother before her. I failed to protect Princess Jonquil, but by the Twelve Gods, I will not fail her daughter.”

The raw emotion in his voice touched me. How could I deny him the chance to aid in her rescue?

“Your skills and your loyalty are most welcome, Mage Armand. And you as well, Mage Bevitrice. Jacinthe is fortunate to have such steadfast allies.”

Bevitrice smiled, a determined light in her eyes. “Just let us know the time and place, Lord Ilhan.”

My steps were lighter as I entered the donjon and climbed the spiraling stairs up to Castellan Guisbald’s office.

It was astounding, really, the loyalty and love Jacinthe had inspired during her time at Darkstone Academy. Even back when everyone believed she was only a junior kitchen apprentice, her spirit and kindness had attracted allies like moths to a flame.

I’d been one of those moths. I no longer regretted it.

I reached Castellan Guisbald’s office and rapped sharply on the heavy oak door. “Enter,” came the gruff reply.

I stepped inside, finding Guisbald seated behind his desk. He glanced up as I closed the door behind me.

“Ah, Lord Ilhan,” he greeted me. “How’s the Dragon doing? It’s a damned shame he and that merman couldn’t retrieve Princess Jacinthe from the duke’s clutches.”

“We healed Boreas’ wounds, but he’s in extremely low spirits,” I replied.

Guisbald nodded sympathetically. “Aren’t we all?” He gazed at me with shrewd assessment. “Did you come here just to report on his condition, or is there something else I can do you for you, my lord?”

I took a deep breath. “I have a few requests for you, Castellan Guisbald. We—Jacinthe’s friends, that is—want to try again. We need your help.”

He eyed me appraisingly. “Do you, now? And what makes you think this time will be any different?”

“Because this time, we have a plan,” I replied in my most confident tone. “And it’s a good one.”

Guisbald stroked his bushy whiskers, considering. “I’m listening, my lord,” he said at last.

I quickly explained what we intended to do. Guisbald listened intently, occasionally nodding or grunting agreement.

I finished with, “Prince Gwydion and Princess Branwen will provide us a fairy ship to transport our forces. But we need men-at-arms to bolster our numbers, and weapons, preferably crossbows and javelins. The Djinni Prince Arslan and his sisters have offered to aid us. But to do that, they’ll need their magic restrictors removed and their magic carpets returned to them. They told me Lady Erzabetta and Lord Roderigo confiscated them when the Djinni arrived.”

“Magic carpet? Such things really exist?” Guisbald’s bushy salt-and-pepper brows flew up.

I nodded. “Apparently they do.”

“Hm. And is there anything else you need from me, my lord?”

I ignored the sarcastic edge in his tone. “One more thing. We need a saddle made for Boreas, and quickly. He tells me he can carry eight people on his back, and we don’t want anyone falling off if he has to change directions suddenly.”

Then I crossed my arms and waited for his answer, trying to hide my anxiety.

“Overall, your plan seems sound.” Guisbald leaned back in his chair, stroking his whiskers thoughtfully. “Except for the part where the Fae plan to conjure a ship using magic. Risky business, that.”

“It’s our best option for ferrying men-at-arms out to the duke’s fleet,” I pointed out.

He sighed heavily. “I suppose you’re right. Still, I wish we had ships of our own.”

Hope bubbled through my chest. “So, you’ll help us?” I asked eagerly.

Guisbald nodded. “You’ll have as many guards as I can convince to volunteer. The weapons should be no problem. I’ll write you a note to give Head Armorer Tassin. Tell the Djinni to go see Mage Sicol about removing their earrings. I’ll ask Steward Potts to search the storeroom inventories for those carpets. And I’ll set all of our leather-workers and blacksmiths to work on the Dragon’s saddle immediately. It’ll be ready by dawn.”

“Thank you, Castellan,” I said with heartfelt gratitude.

“Princess Jacinthe is one of our students,” Guisbald said, echoing what Armand and Bevitrice had said earlier. “And we ought to look after our own here at Darkstone Academy.”

I nodded, my chest tightening with anticipation. Our rescue plan, only a few hours old, had quickly solidified into something real.

“Thank you again, Castellan Guisbald. Truly. Your support means more than you know.”

“Enough of that now,” Guisbald said gruffly, waving off my gratitude. “We’ve all got a lot of preparations to make. Best get to it.”

∞∞∞

Jacinthe

After a stiffly uncomfortable formal supper in the company of the Duke de Norhas, Fernan, Mage Ysandre, and Lady Margitts, I paced the cramped confines of the cabin I shared with Mama.

The magical restraint collar chafed my neck and bruised my collarbones. It was a constant maddening reminder of my helplessness.

I had to break free somehow. Not just for myself, but for Mama, still trapped under the influence of the duke’s vile compulsion charm.

And I was sick with worry ever since seeing the duke’s men shoot Boreas down yesterday. How badly was he injured? Had Tama managed to get him back to the island in time?

Is he… dead?

No! I didn’t want to think about it. But I couldn’t stop my thoughts from dwelling on a myriad of outcomes.

Despite my lack of appetite in such unpleasant company, I’d forced myself to eat everything put in front of me each mealtime. The lethe-flower extract had left me feeling enervated all day yesterday. I needed all my strength if I was going to make a second try at defeating the collar.

Clearly confident that my restrictor collar was working as intended, the duke graciously pretended that his compulsion charm hadn’t failed to work on me.

Everyone carefully avoided discussing Boreas and Tama’s failed rescue attempt, though the ship resounded with the sounds of hammering and sawing as the crew worked around the clock to repair the damage to the hull and rudder.

I was content to sit in silence and observe my captors for any weakness I could exploit.

“Jacinthe, dearest, please stop. You’re wearing yourself out with all this pacing,” Mama pleaded. She lay on the bottom bunk, a thin coverlet drawn up to her neck. “Go to bed. You’re keeping me awake.” She sighed. “Whatever you’re fretting about, I’m sure everything will be better in the morning.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” I replied.

Is now the right time to try again?

I’d had two days’ worth of good food, and I’d slept deeply last night despite my worries. I’d removed the Kujiranokiba whale-tooth pendant that dampened my powers. And the last of the lethe-flower extract should be out of my system by now.

I settled cross-legged on the floor.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep, cleansing breath. Then I reached deep within myself, to the wellspring of magic that pulsed at my core. I gathered it, every glowing thread, every shimmering droplet, every dancing flame, until raw power thrummed through my veins like molten gold.

Then, with a silent prayer to the Divine Mother, I released it all in a rushing torrent, straight into the metal that encircled my throat.

The collar thrummed with a deep bass note and heated against my skin as it tried to absorb my onslaught of power.

White-hot pain encircled my neck. I smelled burning flesh as the enchanted metal seared my skin. The collar’s deep thrum steadily changed pitch until it was shrieking with a high, agonized note.

Almost there. I gritted my teeth, pouring more of my power into the effort. My awareness of the cabin faded away as I focused on the battle between me and the duke’s collar.

Just when I thought I’d reached the limits of my strength and the agony from my burns threatened to consume me entirely, the collar’s restrictor spells wavered momentarily. I touched the power of the sea surrounding us and drew on it.

Pure icy Water magic, fueled by my desperation, rushed into me like a tsunami. It flowed through my veins, soothing and cooling my burns, and flooded the restrictor collar with raw power.

A sharp twang echoed through the cabin. The pressure around my neck abruptly vanished.

Panting, I toppled over and lay on my side. Blinking, I saw the floorboards around me glittering with tiny fragments of metal.

“Jacinthe!” Mama cried, scrambling out of the bunk.

She hurried to my side. “What have you done?”

I blinked up at her, exhaustion dragging at my limbs. But I couldn’t help smiling in triumph.

“Freed myself, Mama,” I whispered.

“You’re burned…” Her cool hands cupped my face, tilting it upward, and her fingertips traced the hot, agonizing line around my neck.

As she spoke the words of a healing spell, a sudden rush of emotions from my soul-bonded flooded through me, so intense it stole my breath.

Pain, anger, guilt, sorrow, anxiety, and ravenous hunger…

Tama. Gwydion. And—Divine Mother be thanked!—Boreas.

He’s alive!

Then I sensed Ilhan, his mind filled with a churn of anxiety, longing, and steely determination. And my happiness was complete. They were all alive. And safe.

Tears sprang to my eyes as their presence filled the aching void within my heart. After the cruel separation imposed by the duke’s collar, I was complete once again.

I embraced their spirits one by one and felt them respond with an easing of their pain and anger.

“Jacinthe? What is it?” Mama asked, worry creasing her brow.

“Nothing,” I croaked, half-strangled by my emotions. “I’m just happy to have my magic back.”

“Duke Beltrán will not be happy when he finds out what you’ve done,” Mama warned, casting a worried glance at the collar’s remains.

I shrugged. “The duke’s happiness is the furthest thing from my mind right now.”

Jacinthe. I closed my eyes, letting Gwydion’s voice purr through my mind.

Of all my soul-bonded, he was the only one who could speak to me, mind to mind. With the others, I could share only feelings.

I’ve missed you all so much, I sent back, pouring all my longing into the thought. The duke collared me with a restrictor.

We figured as much. Ilhan and Alondra and I have organized another rescue attempt. We’re coming for you at dawn, Gwydion replied.

He sent a swift collage of mental images: colorful woven carpets skimming over the waves; Boreas flying, with armed men on his back; a small Fae ship with golden sails, its decks crowded with more men-at-arms; Tama racing underwater.

We depart at dawn, with the aid of Princess Branwen and the Djinni. Just hold on a little longer.

The promise of rescue left me giddy with fresh hope. I sagged against Mama, a breathless laugh escaping me. “My friends are coming for us, Mama. Tomorrow morning, we’ll be free of the duke forever.”

“Not this again, my dearest!” Mama’s expression turned pinched and anxious. “We can’t leave Duke Beltrán. He needs me.”

Ice trickled down my spine at her pleading tone. That damned compulsion charm! She would never leave the duke’s side while his vile magic continued to ensnare her will.

I pushed myself upright. My elbows and shoulders quivered with the effort. My body wanted to crawl into my bunk and sleep.

But I couldn’t rest. Not yet.

I broke the duke’s collar, I told myself. I can break the charm he put on Mama.

Cupping Mama’s face in my hands, I concentrated on her aura, seeking the insidious tendrils of the duke’s spell. They pulsed a sickly purple beneath her skin and formed a tightly knotted net around her mind.

I’d never dealt with a spell like this, and I couldn’t risk hurting Mama by attacking it with brute force. The logical first step was to unravel the net, but the charm fought me, resisting my attempts to undo it.

Sweat ran down my face and my body trembled uncontrollably. Multicolored spots danced before my eyes.

With a frustrated cry, I let my hands drop and sagged in defeat.

Mama gathered me into her arms, stroking my hair. “Shh, my dearest girl. Don’t strain yourself further.”

But even as I let her soothe me, my mind raced.

Come dawn, I would have to make an impossible choice: escape to freedom with my friends, or remain imprisoned on this ship with my ensorcelled mother.

I had to find a way to break the duke’s hold on her, once and for all.