Page 69 of Prisoner of Darkness and Dreams
“I’ll hold you to that promise,” Leon says, then lifts my hand to his lips, kissing it. He holds my gaze for a moment before letting go and heading off to find the others.
The dryads carry me through yet more corridors until I glimpse a brief stretch of sky above me as we cross a courtyard. Then they’re laying my stretcher down and helping me onto a soft, plump bed. The infirmary room is painted in gentle green tones, lavender lightly scenting the air. The furnishings are simple, but beautifully made. I finally relax as the others leave, and Diomi helps prop me up on a bank of cushions as soft as clouds.
“Now, if I may examine your leg, Your Highness?”
I let him cut the fabric of my pants away, his hands so steady and quick I barely feel anything beyond the dull ache of the break. I grimace when he pulls the cloth back, however, revealing the swollen, blue limb. It’s obvious where the most damage is. My thigh is distorted, with a dark—almost black—column of purple dominating the outer side.
“Ah,” he says, as if he now understands everything he needs to do.
“Don’t tell me I’m going to lose it,” I say. I’m only half joking, suddenly anxious at the sight of the damage.
“Not at all.” He smiles, and I suddenly see the family resemblance to Etusca. “We’ll give you something for the pain, and then I can get to work.”
He leaves for a moment before returning with a potion. The taste is sweet like honey, and minutes after taking it, I feel wonderful, like I’m floating on air. It loosens every muscle in my body, so I barely notice when Diomi starts to maneuver my broken limb, adjusting the awkward angle and straightening my knee. I know it should hurt, but I just watch with interest as he lays his cool hands on my upper thigh and starts to murmur in old Agathyrian.
The fizz of viatic magic runs across my nerves. It feels different from my magic, though not unpleasant as it sinks deeper into my leg. I inhale at the strange feeling of my bones being knitted together.
“Sorry,” he says. “I’m told it can be a disconcerting sensation, but this may take a while. There’s quite a few fragments.”
“Like a puzzle?” I say.
Diomi thinks. “More like a broken piece of pottery you’re trying to glue back together.”
“So is my leg a vase or a decorative plate to be kept on a shelf?” I ask wryly.
He smiles. “A vase, definitely.”
“And what exactly are you keeping in that chamber where I killed the mortifus?”
His smile drops and he blinks, surprised by my abrupt question.
“You don’t miss much, do you, Your Highness?” he says, dropping his gaze as he concentrates on knitting together another piece of bone.
“Those stones—whatever they are—are the reason I survived,” I explain. “When I touched them, their power fed into me and allowed me to access my magic with a whole new intensity.” There’s something very potent about those stones, and in the last hour, I’ve realized they’re probably the reason I’ve been feeling stronger and more energized since we got to Starfall. “When I arrived here, I couldn’t access my magic at all, except for a few sparks,” I say to Diomi. “Now suddenly I’ve found it again—and never more so than when I touched those stones.”
The dryad doesn’t immediately meet my eyes, still focusing on his work. But eventually, he lifts his head, sighing.
“I shouldn’t really be telling you this without an official vote. But you’ve seen them now and can likely work out their origin. They are a big part of why some of the council have been so hostile to your presence in the first place.”
I watch him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.
“We call themgaidonesti,” he says.The gods’ gift.“They’re deposits of celestial rock: the fallen stars that give this city its name and the Miravow itssentience. When they fell, they embedded themselves deep in the earth—what you saw was just the tip of some of them—and over millennia, the soil itself has absorbed their magic. The trees of the forest grew out of earth rich with their power. We dryads are also born and grow up on the same land, eating food harvested from the same environment, hence why we share a connection with the forest—and why we can connect with its power.”
Some of this I know, or have guessed from my time spent in Agathyre. But I raise my eyebrows now in a silent question.
“I’m telling you this to explain why the stones are so precious to Agathyrians,” Diomi says. “And why we guard the secret so fiercely. Most foreigners assume we have no idea precisely where the stars fell on Agathyre, and that we can’t directly access that legendary celestial power. We let them believe that because we wish to protect the magic that created our home and runs in our blood.”
I absorb this, thinking back to the moment when their intense power flooded through me.
“And I could access their power because…”
“Because you are a solari, yes,” Diomi says, finishing my thought. “That’s my guess, at least. Dryads don’t produce solari, and as far as I know, one has never come into contact with the gaidonesti. But the rock is celestial in origin, and therefore it makes sense you could channel its magic.”
I nod, swallowing down some disappointment. Part of me hoped my magic was back for good, but I suppose even early in my fight with the mortifus, I was only drawing on the magic of the gaidonesti. It sounds like as soon as I leave Starfall, I’ll be powerless again.
“Is everything alright, Your Highness?” Diomi asks, seeing my expression. “I’ve nearly finished with your leg. Then I’ll get one of the other healers to fix some of your more minor scrapes and bruises.”
“Thank you,” I say, “but it’s not those I’m worried about.” Realizing my magic is still lost to me has reopened the wound, and it makes me bold. “While I’m grateful to you for healing my leg, what I need isn’t a balm or a potion. I need to get my power back. Do you think there’s any way you can help me do that?”
