Jace raised his eyebrows at the abrupt change of heart, but there was no sense arguing when you were getting what you wanted.

  Kinfild set Lessa down on the cot, then the healer pushed him away. “Let me work. Let me see what I’m dealing with, and do not bother me.”

  “Can we at least know your name, miss?” Jace asked.

  “Don’t trust me, aye?”

  “Well…no, not really,” he said.

  “Figures.”

  “Look, miss, I don’t even understand what you are,” Jace said. “I don’t trust you because I don’t know you, and that’s as far as it goes. But I promise, if you harm my friend, I’ll deal with you the exact same as I have to plenty of other scavengers here.”

  She glanced at him with that same slightly amused expression. “Refreshing, I suppose.” Where Jace expected the comment to be dripping with sarcasm, he heard none. She continued, “But yeah, I’ll help your friend. You can call me Perril, aye?”

  Jace nodded. “Perril.”

  “Now be quiet and let me work.”

  “Are you concerned about the others?” Ash asked, glancing at the two cots with injured scavengers.

  “As far as I’m concerned, they signed up to be here,” Perril said. “I didn’t sign up to be put in a restraining collar and dragged to the depths, all because they needed my healing abilities. So I’ll help who I choose to, not who I’m told to.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to antagonize her,” Jace whispered. “We should let her do her job.” He walked to the back of the tent, where the two unconscious Wielders lay, then nudged one with his foot just to make sure the man wasn’t conscious at all before sitting down next to him.

  “You trust her so easily?” Ash asked quietly. “But not me?”

  “Well, one, I don’t have a choice,” Jace said. “And two…we can take her together, if we need. She’s level forty-three.”

  Kinfild tilted his head and brushed out his robes. “Do you know what a Drain-Healer is, Jace?”

  I thought I made it pretty clear I didn’t, Jace thought. He simply said, “No,” and shook his head.

  “They are a type of Curse-witch that places a Curse on a target and absorbs its Vitality to give to targets or themselves. A blood-aspect,” Ash said. His voice was bitter and cold. “It was never illegal widespread, but some individual star systems outlawed its practice. Now, though, they seem to be going the way of the light-Wielders. Not as much of a shame.”

  Jace narrowed his eyes. Blood wasn’t the same as a dark-aspect, and if it could be used for good, then that was all that mattered.

  Besides, there was a bit of shared experience between them, both with an aspect that wasn’t exactly kosher according to the wider galaxy.

  He simply watched, still not entirely convinced.

  Perril pulled away Lessa’s blankets and cast them aside, leaving Lessa unconscious and startlingly small on the cot. With a grimace, Peril observed the injuries, turned away for a second, then returned with a scalpel and cut Lessa’s bandages loose.

  “That’s a terrible idea!” Ash whispered. “Your friend is going to bleed out, and—”

  “Oh, hush,” Kinfild chided. “A healer needs to see a wound to heal it.”

  “I am simply—”

  “How about you tie up these guys’ hands,” Jace said, pointing at the unconscious scavengers. “And gag them while you’re at it.”

  “You are just trying to distract me.”

  “Uh…yeah,” Jace said with a nod. “Yeah, I am.”

  “Fine,” Ash grumbled, then set to his task. He scavenged for supplies around the back of the tent, winding spare bandages into rope or gags. “Do not cry to me when something goes horribly wrong.”

  Jace kept watching, his distrust turning to curiosity. Perril arranged Lessa flat on her back, arms out to the side, tail flopping off the side of the cot, then retreated to the center of the tent. She held her hands over the flame, crushed a technique card, then whispered something in a tone that sounded more like a grasshopper clicking its wings than a human voice.

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  The flame flared ten times brighter than it had before, and a glowing red feather sigil lit up on the backs of Perril’s hands. She mustered a second technique card, and held it long enough that Jace could glimpse its name:

  [Technique Card: Vitality Follows the Bold (Legendary) (Utility) (Compatible Class: Drain-Healer) (Compatible Aspects: Blood)]

  Not a Curse. Interes—

  As soon as the second technique card activated, she unveiled a third, then triggered it immediately, while holding her hand out toward the spider and the other insect creature.

  [Technique Card: Bleeding Dry (Legendary) (Curse) (Compatible Class: Drain-Healer) (Compatible Aspects: Blood)]

  As soon as she triggered the card, the spider began shuddering and shaking. One of its legs popped off and crumbled into black, glassy dust, just like a darkling, then it collapsed. Then the second insectile creature began to shudder and bang against its own cage with twice the intensity as before.

  Until something lifted it off the ground. It hovered for a few seconds, then the gaps between its plates of chitin began glowing. Its compound eyes burst and spurts of crimson flame blasted out.

  Then it dropped and fell still, dead.

  All the while, Perril was forming a sphere of glowing red Aes between her hands. As soon as the second insectile creature fell still, she stood and carried the orb back to Lessa, then pressed it directly against the wound.

  Jace leaned forward, now engrossed by the process. What had previously been a massive gash in Lessa’s gut was already sealing. The wick markings beneath her skin, which had previously looked like black tattoos, were now sealing back together.

  But then Lessa’s fists tightened, and her back arched. Whether it was instinctive or not, Jace couldn’t say, and he didn’t want to find out. But it couldn’t have been comfortable.

  “Be calm, aye?” Perril said. “To undo the workings of a Wielder isn’t an easy process, and some of her organs were damaged. It’ll be a while yet.”

  Jace sighed, then leaned back. He turned to Kinfild and whispered, “Why does a Vitality transfer heal the target? And why would that work on Lessa, but a stim shot wouldn’t?”

  Kinfild said, “A stim shot is a tool of the world of men, unnatural and forced. Weak stim shots work on mortals, but the higher in grade you get, the less the Split responds to them. It’s unbalanced and forceful. But this Perril is tapping directly into the Split, moving with it, and providing it a channel to run along. Directing the life force of one being into the life force of another.”

  “Is it gonna give Lessa magic powers?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I could hope…” Jace said. He exhaled again and leaned back until the outer form of the tent caught him, then looked over at Ash. The man had finished binding together the unconscious scavengers’ hands and tying a gag around their mouth.

  “Ash, when I fought Rallemnon, he said something,” Jace said softly.

  “I am sure he did.”

  “He called you a disgraced heir. To what, he didn’t say, though I’ve been curious.”

  Ash nodded. “I thought only Lady Fairynor knew, but there have been rumours as of late, I suppose. That the King of Artanor would return to save the Starrealm and fight back the dark hordes in the galaxy’s time of need. That the Starrealm would cast aside the Attendants and we would return the kingdom’s former glory.”

  “Are you…him?”

  “I am a descendant of Othil, yes,” said Ash. When Jace gave him a blank stare, he provided, “Othil, the last king of the Starrealm, before he lead an army beyond the Wall and never returned.”

  “Do you have the claim to the throne?” Jace asked.

  “I…have a claim, yes. I’m sure there are many others like me, who could trace their lineage back. They may not be able to prove that they are the first son in a line old as the Luminians, but they could make a claim.”

  “Do you have proof like that?” Jace asked.

  “If it was required, then yes. But I turned from that path many orbits ago. I am not the man I once was, and the purge has taken a toll on me. I’ve bounced from profession to profession—even before the purge. Watchmen, mercenary work, ranger work. To be a king is not in my heart, no matter if it’s in my blood. I know I would do no better than Othil. Where the greatest lord of our age couldn’t defeat the Enemy, how could I?”

  “That’s where the worldjumpers come in, right?” Jace whispered. “We’re supposed to deal with the Enemy?”

  “You’re thinking too far ahead,” Kinfild said, holding out a hand. “The Generous Hand is our biggest concern at the moment.”

  Jace nodded, recalling his moment of inspiration outside the warehouse, where he’d first challenged Neikir. It seemed so long ago.

  But if he wanted to do his job right, he’d have to take out this Generous Hand. What became of them after that was another problem entirely.

  “If…if given the chance, what would it take for you to reclaim the throne?” Jace asked. “I mean, I talked with the First Attendant once, and he wasn’t exactly the most reasonable, but I’m sure pretty much anyone could do a better job with the kingdom.”

  “Be careful what you wish for,” Ash grumbled. “But it would take official recognition of my bloodline from the Citadel Tower’s hearth. On Kinath-Aertes. And, most likely, for the people to accept me instead of the First Attendant. But I don’t see what end it would serve.”

  “I…” Jace shrugged. “Morale? I dunno. Either way…thank you for being honest about it, I suppose.”

  “It’s not my greatest shame. There is a long list of those.”

  Next, Jace turned to Kinfild. “Alright, so…I really need to pick up the pace on the Soul-Circle opening stuff, right? I’m still at the first stage, but I should probably be much higher. Like…when I reach level forty-five, I should be doing the whole Blending thing, right?”

  “Yes. Upon completely opening the Soul-Circle, there should be nine disparate segments,” Kinfild replied. “In order to advance to Nascent Heart, you must blend them all together. You won’t pass level forty-five without completely opening the circle, and you won’t pass level sixty without blending them.”

  “Well…” Jace glanced back at Lessa. She was still healing, still quivering, with her back arched and fingers clenched, under the watch of Perril. But the wound was only a quarter closed. He said, “I think I’ve got time to give it a try.”