Page 12 of Taken By the Shadow Prince

“Do I need the dandelion, too?”

“No. That’s keeping it from working on me.” I almost tell him about how he could drink dandelion tea to keep my powder from shocking him, but it’s how I wake the soldiers up each morning, and I don’t really want Benji knowing there is a very easy way to get out of being shocked awake each morning. It’ll only create more trouble for me.

Benji holds his hand out slowly, and I rub the gritty brew onto the back of his hand. He’s immediately still, eyes wide. “Holy shit,” he breathes, eyes wide. “Where did it go?”

“What?”

“My magic,” he mutters. “It feels like it’s gone.”

“It’s still there,” I say. “Don’t worry. Just inaccessible. Can you move?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, as if struggling to try. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “Not even a toe.”

“Can you breathe okay? Blink?” I can already tell that he’s talking fine, so there’s no need to ask about that.

He nods. “Yes. How?”

“Can you turn your head?”

He does. He looks up, down, left, and right.

“Good,” I mutter to myself, nodding. “I was hoping so.” It took a while before I’d figured out how to concentrate the brew to work on everythingbutthe face. I need whoever it is I use this potion on to be able to speak.

I want to know if he can wipe it off himself, to see ifthatlittle aspect of it works correctly, but since he can’t move very well, it’s safe to say it’d be impossible for him to wipe it away, anyway. Still, I want to make sure it works.

I pluck a dandelion from the ground and shove the head of it into Benji’s mouth. He bites it off and chews, grimacing at the taste. It isn’t the worst thing in the world, though not entirely enjoyable. I’ve gotten rather used to it, after years of relying on it.

Slowly, I watch as his body unlocks, until he’s walking freely and testing his fire magic in the air right in front of me to make sure it works.

“Try to wipe it off your hand,” I tell him.

Benji does. He wipes it on his pants, but that dark brown smudge remains. He attempts to wipe it on the grass next, on a tree, but it stays. “Why won’t it come off?”

“Because,” I say. “It’s part of the spell. Come here.”

He does, eyes wide, as if afraid he’ll be stuck with it forever. But I just bend down and chew on my own dandelion, then wait a handful of seconds before wiping it off on my fingers, then on my pants. If I’d have left it there, on his hand, the brew would have snuck back up on Benji as the effects of the dandelion left his system.

I love magic—thismagic. The kind that comes from the things around us, that most people are too impatient to bother learning.

“How did you do that?” Benji asks. “How’d you make it?”

I tilt my head to the side, trying to debate if it’s a real question or not. If he cares. But he seems curious enough, and so I vaguely explain the concept of alchemy, of putting things together in certain amounts and certain ways to make them do certain things.

“And how’d you make that brew specifically?” He asks. “I’d like to know.”

I shake my head. “I’m not telling you.” Not because I don’t trust Benji, but... half the fun of alchemy is figuring it all out yourself. Knowing all the answers before you’ve even begun sort of ruins the delight of it all.

Benji seems to understand, laughing as he shakes his head. “I’m beginning to understand why Queen Mair keeps you around,” he says with a wink. “Am I dismissed? I can’t wait to tell everyone why they should be sure to fear you more than they already do.”

The joke, the sign of camaraderie, is out of my mouth before I can stop it. “Be sure to embellish a little. I like fear.”

Benji grins, dips his head with respect, and strides away.

I find that I’m grateful for him, despite my earlier hesitations. I suppose a friend or two isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Chapter 8

Mavey

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