Page 24 of Kingdom of Dance

“I don’t know,” said Reka. A small shudder passed over him. “And I would not care to find out. It would be an abomination, I think. Like a dragon without magic.”

“It has sometimes seemed to me,” added Dannsair, “that a person’s spark is the very core of their signature. That it is from that spark that each person draws strength, resilience…their very self. Without the spark, would the mind remain? Would the heart? No one can know. But I suspect that such a person would be unmoored, defenseless.”

A chill went over Zinnia at the thought. Even though she knew she had no power to compare with Idric’s, she’d never felt completely powerless. She had the determination to resist, even when it was futile. She had her defiance, and the strength of will that made it necessary for him to compel her obedience, because she refused to give it willingly. The idea of even that being taken away…

But her own thoughts pulled her up. Idric didn’t compel her to do anything, not truly. She’d never thought about it before, but if he wanted to control her, why not make her a puppet on a string? Why not take control of her body and literally force her to enter that cavern, her sisters along with her? He’d gone to some lengths to keep her sisters docile, creating an elaborate delusion that brought them happily into his clutches without requiring them to be under the compulsion magic.

And as for her…the compulsion she felt was limited to getting her into the cavern, and it was based on alleviating physical symptoms which became unbearable if left. She’d always just assumed it was another example of how he enjoyed inflicting pain on humans. But was it possible that there were actually limits on his ability to control her? And that her spark was somehow part of those limits?

Thoughts worth further exploration.

When Zinnia eventually climbed the path back to the castle, her mind was full to bursting. She was also extremely hungry, belatedly feeling the lack of one of the day’s meals.

“I’m glad it’s almost dinner time,” said Violet, clearly thinking along the same lines. Her face was thoughtful as they entered the city gate, her gaze drawn to the royal wing of the castle. “It was interesting, wasn’t it? All that talk about human sparks. Do you remember what Idric said that first night?”

Zinnia didn’t bother checking whether the guards were out of earshot. She knew they were, or the magic wouldn’t have allowed Violet to mention Idric.

“I do,” she said fervently. “He said my spark was strong.”

“And he said something about wanting your spark, like he wanted to…I don’t know, study you? I’d forgotten all about it. What do you think he meant by that?”

Zinnia searched her sister’s face, somehow both encouraged and distressed by Violet’s troubled expression. Was it possible she was throwing off the delusion? And did Zinnia want that for her sister, or not? But the guards had just moved within hearing range, as Zinnia discovered when she attempted to answer. And the next moment, Violet’s expression had cleared, the matter apparently banished from her mind as the happy ignorance created by Idric’s magic returned.

Zinnia deflated, feeling herself drift down once again into the loneliness that was her reality.

A servant directed them to the family’s smaller dining hall. They’d stayed at the shore all afternoon, and the sun was skimming the horizon. Zinnia found herself hoping for a hearty meal. She was determined not to put off her other nighttime activities a second time, so she would need her energy. It was unfortunate that Elizabeth was away, but she could manage without her usual maid for one night.

Knowing they were late, they raced straight to dinner. If they were dining in the small hall, it would just be the family, and there was no need to bother going back to their rooms to change. Magnolia was even carrying her slippers in her hands, and all of them had a fair amount of sand still clinging to their damp skirts.

When they entered the room, Zinnia saw the amused and slightly incredulous way Wren’s eyes took in their appearance, and she flashed her sister-in-law a grin. The former Mistran princess was in Entolia now. The seaside kingdom had always been less formal in its customs than its neighbors, and now that Basil was king, the difference had only become more marked. Zinnia loved it.

“Oh no,” Violet muttered. “Where’s Basil?”

Zinnia scanned the table as well, belatedly realizing that while the rest of the family was present, Basil was nowhere to be seen. She let out a soft groan as her stomach complained. There was a limit to their informality. They wouldn’t be able to eat without the king.

She’d barely taken her seat, however, when the door to the small dining hall opened, and her brother appeared.

“There you are, Basil,” she said scoldingly. “You terrified us all, slipping off to a meeting right at dinnertime. We thought you were going to leave us to—”

She broke off abruptly as she realized that Basil wasn’t alone. Another figure was hovering in the doorway behind the king, taking in the scene with eyes so dark they almost looked black. The young man was taller than Basil, and it was clear at a glance that his muscular form was toned by extensive training. Lean though he was, he gave an impression of restrained strength. His skin looked paler than it probably was in contrast to his coal black hair, which was cut a little shorter than was fashionable.

Zinnia’s eyes were drawn to a scar that stood out starkly on his jaw, and she examined it, curious as to its origin. Looking up, she found the stranger’s eyes on her, and she flushed to be caught staring at his blemish. Not that it did his appearance any harm. She’d seen enough to know that his features were well formed, the scar doing nothing to disguise a strong jaw, rather serving to draw the eyes to the full lips that sat below a thin, straight nose. Slanting black brows topped those unusually dark eyes, and he carried himself with the grace of a hunter. Despite such promising features, however, his face couldn’t be called pleasant. Not with the hard, almost suspicious expression that seemed to be his resting point.

He was, in fact, precisely the type of tall, dark, brooding stranger who had once tickled her girlish fancy. The thought made Zinnia smile, returning the equilibrium she’d lost when he caught her staring. She had absolutely no interest in mysterious, brooding men anymore. She had quite enough secrets to juggle all on her own.

She glanced down at herself and let out a tiny sigh. She did wish she’d changed, however, since there was to be a stranger among them. Perhaps he was just delivering a message or something. Perhaps he wasn’t staying. Most likely he wouldn’t come close enough to notice the sand on her clothes.

“I’m sorry for my tardiness,” said Basil cheerfully, looking around at them all. “I was greeting Lieutenant Obsidian, who’s traveled half the day to join us, at my request. I hope you’ll make him feel welcome.”

“Of course,” said the dowager queen, graciously greeting the guest. “We’re delighted to receive you, Lieutenant. Are you here on a military matter?”

“No, Your Majesty,” said Lieutenant Obsidian, his face giving nothing away.

“No, I’ve asked for the lieutenant’s help on another matter entirely,” said Basil helpfully. His eyes met Zinnia’s across the room, no disguise or apology in their clear gaze. “In addition to his military role, he’s also an enchanter.”

Zinnia stiffened, understanding blazing through her as she looked between the two young men. So much for evading the stranger’s notice.

Basil wasn’t even trying to hide it. He’d called Lieutenant Obsidian here because of her.

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