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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Hearing was the first sense to return. Sound surrounded Domi. Voices. Two of them, one a man and one a woman.
"I hope you have news for me," the man said, his voice tense and irritated. "And it better be good."
"Define 'good,' Cerasus."
"He's not a Promethides, and I can finish what Valens started."
"Sorry, can't help with that." The woman hovered somewhere to Domi's right, where crimson light filtered through his closed eyelids. "He's definitely a Promethides, so you can't execute him. But there is some news you might appreciate."
"Do share."
Something clinked. A hand cupped the back of his neck, lifting his head, and Domi sputtered as something pressed to his lips. The thick liquid, milky and sweet, poured into his mouth, leaving a faint floral aftertaste. Domi wanted more, but the cup went away.
"The good news is you don't need to get Valens out of trouble for stealing the Rex's Empowered property," the woman said, cheerful. "Only for trying to kill a Trueborn."
"Trueborn? Wonderful. Just wonderful."
The woman chuckled. "I thought you'd say that."
"What am I supposed to do with a feral Trueborn?"
"I don't know. House him? Train him? Put him to work?" The cup came back. Domi drank with greedy gulps. "You're the Praetor, Brother. You figure it out."
"I'd rather just kill him."
Domi wondered who they were talking about. His thoughts drifted through his mind, slow and fuzzy, as he tried to follow the conversation.
"He's a feral Trueborn who was found in your provincia, Cerasus. By law, his care and feeding are your responsibility."
"I'm well aware." The man, this Cerasus, heaved a sigh. "Just great. Well, what type of prometus does he have? Something useful, I hope. If we end up with yet another lifeholder—"
"I have no idea."
Domi had no idea either. No idea what the heck they were talking about. But there was something very weird about this conversation. He couldn't pinpoint what it was, however.
And he wanted the drink. Why were they taking it away again? He whimpered but could do no more than flutter his eyes. His lids refused to open, and he could not move a muscle.
"You haven't checked his prometus?"
"I tried, but there is nothing to check. He has no prometus at all for me to examine. He's been suppressed, I suspect since birth."
Were they talking about him? Of course he had no prometus. He wasn't suppressed, he was Pyrrhaei. Idiots.
"Impossible. Valens said the stone drew blood from him."
