An abandoned boy, a grieving prince, and a reclusive sorcerer find themselves caught in a web of peril and mystery...
Domi, a young thief abandoned on the street at birth, just wants to save his dying foster mother. But first, he must survive the m...
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Cercitis and her older two children met on a shadowed footpath beneath the purple blossoms of a flowering jacaranda tree. Promenia flickered in the petals and in the lavender skyline peeking through the arching branches, the only hints the mental environment she wove for their meeting was not real.
In better times, she loved to gather in the Caeles with her family. Few Promethidae parents enjoyed the fortune of living near their children, who went to their curia's nursery school as toddlers and were forbidden contact with family while training at their curia's conservatory school. But all sorcerers could enter the Caeles for visits like this, where physical distance meant little. Now that both of her older children had completed their conservatory educations, she was allowed to visit them this way whenever she wished despite the thousands of miles between them.
She could not touch her children here, not truly, but in some ways she felt closer to them in this waking dreamscape than she did when in their presence. Here, she experienced the smoky shadows of their emotions and wispy echoes of their thoughts. Hazy reflections of their physical sensations rippled between them. There was something precious about seeing this version of them. The Caeles wove their likenesses from threads of her own impressions of her children, their self-perception, and the promenia's infusion of countless images, which shifted in their movements and flickered in their eyes.
But today she held her own contributions to the mental communion close to her heart. Cercitis did not want her nausea and horror at what she must ask of them to reverberate back to her children and make what was bound to be a miserable conversation even worse.
Epileus crossed his arms the moment his thoughtform appeared on the path. "Took you long enough to get back to us, Mother."
At his side, Gemma said naught, but Cercitis's daughter did not need to speak. Her glare said it all.
"I'm sorry for taking so long to answer your questions," Cercitis said. She drew a deep breath. "No, I do not want you to bring the boy to the palace."
Their surprise and confusion lapped against her. "Wait, you don't?" Epileus glanced at Gemma and back at their mother. "Should we arrange protection for him here, then? Or..."
Protection. Eternal Radiance, the word almost made her burst into dark laughter. She kept it in a stranglehold along with the bitterness that spawned it. "No. I need to ask you to do something very hard." She swallowed. "I assume you are back at the Silvula Salutis Collegium now?"
"Yes, Ma," Gemma said. She studied Cercitis with sharp dark-brown eyes, always more perceptive than her older brother. "We got back last evening."
"Good." Cercitis drew a deep breath to compose herself. If she showed uncertainty or hesitation about what must be done, so might her children. She needed them to be resolute. "You two must act quickly to protect Daedalus. The other boy's prometus is interfering with your foster brother's body and magic. The incident with the Trellis is a direct result of that. It will only get worse. The resonance cannot, under any circumstances, be allowed to continue. Do you understand what I mean?"
Epileus radiated uncertainty, then horror, then uncertainty once more. Uneasiness choked his words as he said, "I... I'm not sure I follow."
Gemma's eyes were harder than her brother's. She had always been a practical girl even when it was difficult. "We're going to need you to say exactly what you mean if you want us to consider doing anything like what you're implying you want us to do."
At that, Epileus shifted from foot to foot, nervousness, hope, and dread all bleeding into the Caeles as he peered at Cercitis. She knew he didn't want her to say what he suspected she meant to say.
She hated to disappoint him.
"I suppressed the boy's prometus at birth, but he's managed to overcome the blockage I placed. That avenue is closed to us now. Death or disfigurement are the only options left."
A wave of horror cascaded through the mental environment, so strong the purple blossoms in the trees blackened. Gemma gaped at her. "Disfig—Eternal Radiance, do you mean maim him? You do, don't you?"
"Or murder him." Epileus's mindvoice was quieter, though his horror roared like Gemma's own behind his breathless words. "You want us to maim or murder our little foster brother."
"That boy is not your foster brother," Cercitis snapped. "He's a complete stranger and a grave threat to Daedalus, and because he's a threat to Daedalus, he's a threat to the whole world."
"Ma, we can't just... just attack a Trueborn!" Epileus's eyes were horror-struck, and his face grayed as he continued. "I could never do something like that, and even if I could, I don't want to go to the work camps."
"You won't if you protect your identity. If you refrain from using promenia when you do what must be done, you won't be detected. Use an artifact instead." He still stared at her like she'd lost her mind. She didn't blame him. She barely recognized herself. "Son, this must be done, or the resonance between this boy and Daedalus will eventually kill them both and destroy the Trellis. You said he suffered an injury yesterday. Well, it hurt Daedalus too. He lay abed most of the day. Their bodies are so similar that their prometus is resonating. Whatever one does with magic puts the health and magic of the other at risk."
Gemma shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. "Still, to hurt some kid who doesn't realize what he's doing..."
"How can you ask this of us?" Epileus sounded agonized, but Cercitis no longer sensed his emotions. Her son hid himself from her now. The realization made her heart ache.
"I don't want to ask this of you. I don't. But I must," she said, aware their relationship would never be the same again after this. Still, she had a duty to the child she had raised and to her Princeps, and so did they. "I have taken steps to help ensure Daedalus might have an heir if aught should happen, but it is a poor solution. It will be years before any child will be old enough to safely hold the Trellis or even inherit without dying. I would not ask this of you if there were another way. If I were able to get there fast enough, I would do it myself and spare you from this."
A grim silence fell over them, then. She felt Gemma's slow, sad acceptance, and though Epileus continued to shut her out, Cercitis watched the same pass over his face.
At last, Gemma swallowed, exchanging a glance with her brother. "So," she said, her voice quiet and tight, "do we maim or kill?"
"M-maim," Epileus said. "It's kinder."
"No, it's not."
Epileus's brows knit in confusion, so Cercitis explained in as gentle a tone as possible. "If he lives, his body must be rendered so different from Daedalus's own that their prometus no longer confuses one boy for the other. The pathway it takes as it travels their bodies must become radically different. What your sister means to say is, if you maim him, the boy may wish you had killed him instead."
