‘What do you think?’

The Kengian Princess’s silver eyes danced as she twirled in front of Laha. Her silver-and-blue brocade gown caught the morning light that streamed through the shutters.

‘I think you would look just as good, and be more comfortable, if you weren’t wearing those ridiculous Lamorian fashions,’ Laha grumbled, much preferring her simple Kengian tunic and wide-legged pants over corsets and hoop skirts.

And if Laha was being honest with herself, she didn’t want to dress like Mary for reasons other than practicality. She would always be a poor imitation of the Princess. They were both silver-eyes, but that was where their similarities ended. Mary was tall, polished and graceful, while Laha was petite and had a disordered look about her that one might describe as wiry, if they were being kind, or downright wild if they were being truthful.

Princess Mary ignored Laha’s barb and examined herself in a mirror. She whirled her fingers over her head, her air magic creating a shimmering halo before strands of hair curled and fixed themselves in place.

‘Ha!’ she cried. ‘Looks like my powers are returning.’

‘Good for you,’ Laha muttered.

Mary’s face fell as she seemingly realised that Laha may not be as thrilled as she was about her powers returning. She changed the subject. ‘You can’t tell me you aren’t even a little excited about this – the joust is the best part of the festivities,’ she said, overly brightly.

Laha crossed her arms. Her monkey friend, Chaos, who stood on her shoulders, mimicked her. ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying. It’s just another tournament. They seem to have them every second week around here.’

‘That’s not true. The last one was the victory celebration almost a year ago, and the time before that was when we first came here…a lifetime ago.’

Princess Mary and her companion Laha had first arrived at the Lamorian Court with the Kengian King and Queen. The Kengian royal family had been visiting Lamore to negotiate a formal peace and trade agreement between the two neighbouring kingdoms. They couldn’t have known that their visit – or more specifically, Laha’s actions on that visit – would precipitate a deadly invasion that threatened all of Kypria. Now that there was peace again, Mary and Laha remained in Lamore to cement the alliance. One might think that Laha would prefer to be back in Kengia, but she didn’t belong there…She didn’t belong anywhere.

‘I don’t see the point of these things,’ she whined. ‘All the puffed-up pageantry. Swordplay with blunted blades. Firing arrows at targets made of straw.’ Laha rolled her eyes. ‘And don’t even get me started on jousting…I mean, what is even the point of that? It’s not like anyone turns up at a battle with ridiculously long pointed sticks and starts poking each other with them.’

‘So it’s not exciting enough for you – not like fighting for our lives?’ Mary replied.

Exciting was one word for what had happened. Exhilarating and thrilling were the other words Laha would use. She was the one who had accidentally opened a portal to another world. She and Mary, wielding their Kengian magic, and the Lamorian Princes, Emberto and Alfred, using temporarily acquired powers, had defeated the invaders, and life had gone back to normal…or become exceedingly dull, in Laha’s view.

‘Now that you mention it, yes, that was exciting. No pretend battles. It was real. We had real adventures!’

Chaos leapt from Laha’s shoulder onto a settee and started throwing air punches.

‘That’s the difference between you and me,’ Mary said. ‘I’d prefer boring old tournaments over nearly dying. Boring old tournaments mean we’re at peace. And that’s something we can really celebrate…with events like these.’

‘Blah, blah, blergh!’ Laha shook her head. ‘You’re talking like a Queen already. I can’t believe you’re going to marry that bore.’

Mary pursed her lips. ‘I know you don’t mean that. Alfred is a good man.’

Alfred and Laha made a habit of butting heads. She thought he was a goody-two-shoes and he thought she was a ‘foolhardy troublemaker’. Yes, they’d fought side-by-side, but he’d made it clear that he didn’t fully trust her – or the unpredictable darkness that lived inside her.

‘A man now, is he?’ Laha went on. ‘What, because he’s turned eighteen?’

‘He’s man enough to have saved both of our lives more than once.’

Laha snort-laughed. ‘I think you’ll find we saved the stuck-up royal jackass just as many times.’

Mary took a deep breath. ‘Look, we’re not getting married for another twelve months or more, so you’ll have time to…get used to it. And I’m not marrying him because I have to, I’m marrying him because I want to. I love him.’

Never had the two-year age gap between them felt so vast. ‘I suppose there’s no accounting for taste,’ Laha replied.

‘Why do you make it so…’ Mary’s voice rose angrily. ‘So hard for people to—’ She bit her lip.

‘Like me? Love me?’ Laha yelled. ‘That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?’

Laha hated fighting with Mary. The Princess was her closest friend – had been her only friend for so long, but she was angry. Furious, in fact, that Alfred was taking Mary from her. It didn’t help that Laha had lost all of her powers and had no idea if they would ever return. And where did that leave her? Who was she without Mary, without her magic – with nothing but the darkness to sustain her?

She was nothing now but a royal companion, sentenced indefinitely to a monotonous and ordinary life of service at court.

‘I’ll see you at the tournament,’ Mary said in a weary voice, and left the room.

Laha swung open the doors and yelled after her. ‘You’ll see me. I’ll be the one dying of boredom.’

She stomped back to the settee, where Chaos yawned and pretended he was falling asleep.

‘You get me. You love me, don’t you, Chaos?’

‘It’s not just him,’ came a familiar voice behind Laha.

She spun around to see Prince Emberto – or Bertie, which was what Laha insisted on calling him.

‘What did you say?’

Bertie’s eyes widened. ‘I mean, I get you…not love you,’ he stammered. ‘Well, not like that…I mean—’

‘I should think not. Love! Who’s got time for that rubbish?’ Laha forced a laugh. It wasn’t like she was in love with Bertie, but she liked him above anyone, except perhaps Mary when they weren’t fighting. So she couldn’t say that his comment hadn’t hurt a little.

Bertie gave a relieved smile, oblivious to Laha’s conflicted feelings. ‘You’re not dressed for the tournament,’ he said.

‘Yes I am.’

He grinned. ‘Well, I think you look marvellous.’

Chaos jumped up and down, making a squeaking noise. He was wearing a purple velvet waistcoat – the colour of royalty. Laha had made it for him as a joke. Everyone assumed Chaos was a pet, but he was much more to Laha. Ever since she had broken him out of the Lamorian King’s private zoo, Chaos had become her confidant, her connection to the animal world and the Shamanic powers she’d once had.

‘Yes, yes, you too, Chaos,’ Bertie addressed the monkey. ‘You look mighty fine.’

Chaos bowed.

‘You looking forward to today?’ Laha asked.

Bertie sighed. ‘I know he’s my brother and I should want to celebrate his birthday and his betrothal, but I find the whole thing…I don’t know…boring.’

Laha nodded her agreement. Bertie got her. He got everything about her, and wasn’t scared of her…not even of her darkness.

She remembered what he had been like when she’d first met him. The awkward younger Prince who was desperate to prove he was as good as his brother. He’d spent his whole life in Alfred’s shadow, unable to match his brother’s athleticism, strength or even his social skills. But Laha had showed Bertie there was more to life than wanting to be someone else, and had helped him leverage his own unique gifts, which included a perfect memory. She had introduced him to adventure. After she’d opened the portal, Bertie had been given the ability to see across space and time, but he had lost that power too.

Laha could tell by the lost look in his eyes that he didn’t know where he fit in this new world, either. She wanted to cheer him up.

‘Not to worry. We’ll go together and I’ll keep you entertained with witty commentary and scathing appraisals of the fashions at court.’

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Bertie laughed – a genuine laugh that went all the way to his dark eyes. ‘Agreed.’

* * *

Tournaments in Lamore were an impressive sight…to most. The week-long events, which included swordfighting and archery, were open to all Lamorians to attend. But it was the joust that attracted the most interest.

The tiltyard, an empty field of dirt on any other day, was bursting with activity. The competitors’ armour shone in the silver sun’s morning light. Squires and pages raced here and there, fetching shields, weapons and horses. Colourful banners from each noble house marked the edges of the field. Hundreds of spectators lined each side of the tiltyard. The nobility sat in tents or pavilions, while other Lamorians sat in wooden stands or on the ground. Between the tiltyard and the castle were rows of market stalls. Chaos jumped from Laha’s shoulder as she and Bertie approached a stall selling honey cakes. He snatched a cake from the surprised stallholder before scurrying away.

‘Oi!’ the stallholder shouted after them.

Bertie shot Laha a warning look.

‘He was hungry,’ she said by way of explanation.

Bertie shook his head before returning to apologise to the stallholder and pay for the cake.

‘Delicious?’ Laha asked the monkey, and Chaos nodded with a grin.

Bertie ran to catch up just as Laha reached the tiltyard. ‘You can’t let that monkey run wild like that.’

‘It’s not like I can control him…not anymore.’

Over the last year, Laha had learnt how to call on flora and fauna for assistance. As part of her early Shaman training, she had mastered the ability to reach into an animal’s mind and ask for its cooperation. She had been forced to learn the difference between being at one with a creature and controlling it…but now she could do neither. Losing her powers had been like losing a part of herself. The loss festered away like a black hole in her heart.

Seeing her pain, Bertie’s eyes flooded with concern.

Laha forced herself to look away. Her gaze went to the most elaborate pavilion, where the Lamorian King and Queen sat. Prince Alfred, in all of his finery, sat by his father’s side, Mary next to him. They were the picture of perfection. As handsome as each other. The permanent courtier’s smiles that came easily to them plastered on their faces as they acknowledged each noble and knight who came near.

‘Look at them,’ Laha sniffed, turning back to meet Bertie’s gaze. ‘Sitting up there like painted dolls.’

Bertie pushed back an unruly black curl from his forehead. The curl, of course, immediately sprang back to its original position. ‘It’s their job…I guess.’

Laha looked him squarely in his eyes. ‘And what’s our job? What are we supposed to do? Play the adoring friend and brother? Fill our days playing cards and reciting poetry? I’d rather be dead.’

He grabbed her wrist, not too firmly but enough to ground her. His touch was warm and familiar. ‘Don’t say that,’ he said in a low whisper.

A single tear pricked her eye. She forced it back and extricated herself from his grip.

‘Laha,’ Bertie said, with one of his ever-so-serious looks. ‘There will always be a place here for you.’

‘Perhaps…’ She smiled, wanting to acknowledge Bertie’s kindness, but she didn’t believe there was a place for her at court…and she didn’t desire it. She’d seen enough at the castle to know that the life of a courtier was mundane, tedious and mind-numbingly boring. Laha ached for excitement. Opportunities to develop and wield her powers…if they ever returned. Why had she been born with such abilities if she’d never have the chance to do anything with them? There must be a reason for the darkness that lived and called inside her.

Laha’s Governess had spent years working with her, trying to teach her to control the darkness. She’d taught Laha to resist her most destructive urges, to bury those urges deep within her. But it was a constant struggle. Laha could sense the darkness clawing away inside at her, threatening to burst from her…and do what? She didn’t know.

But what if she didn’t have to fight it? What if she embraced the darkness and learnt to harness it for…for whatever purpose it was needed? Surely Mary and Alfred could use someone like her as a protector…a weapon, even. Maybe there would be a place for her then, once her powers returned…because her powers would return. They had to.

Laha turned back to Bertie. ‘You’re right,’ she said with forced enthusiasm. ‘Of course they need us. They’ll be too busy trying to make everyone love them – they will need us to do all the hard and unpopular stuff.’

Bertie frowned. ‘I’d like to be popular too.’

‘But you are’ – Laha batted her eyes dramatically – ‘with us.’ She indicated herself and Chaos, who blew Bertie a kiss.

Bertie shoved her playfully. ‘Yeah, right,’ he said as his cheeks flushed cherry-red.

A herald’s trumpet sounded and every eye went to the royal pavilion, where the King was announcing Alfred and Mary’s betrothal. There was much cheering. The King leant over the front of the pavilion and released a gold cord holding up a velvet curtain. The curtain fell to the ground to reveal an emblem. In each corner was a different symbol. A Kengian starling, representing the element of air. A phoenix, representing fire, and a koi fish for water. At the centre of the emblem was a yew seed, representing the sacred tree – the source of all Kengian magic. In the last remaining corner was a lion: the Lamorian King’s insignia.

The crowd cheered even more.

‘It’s Alfred and Mary’s coat of arms, made to mark their betrothal,’ Bertie explained.

‘Blergh.’ Laha and Chaos mimed being sick, and Bertie laughed.

At that moment, Mary caught Laha’s eye and compressed her lips. Alfred followed her gaze, his brow furrowed. Laha and Chaos pulled silly faces at them in response, and Bertie joined in.

‘Don’t you two have anything better to do?’

A stern voice behind them. The Governess.

Battleaxe, Laha mouthed to Bertie.

Laha and the Governess had a complicated history. When Laha had been orphaned as a baby, the Governess had put her in the care of the Institute in Kengia. There, she had studied with other Kengians who showed a particular affinity with kira and were training to become Shamans or Scholars. There, Laha had earned a reputation as a troublemaker – someone who couldn’t control her powers. The instructors had been scared of her. The other students had avoided her. After an altercation with the High Shaman, Laha had been kicked out of the Institute. So the Governess had found a position for her as Mary’s companion – a position Laha appreciated, but one that also meant she was under constant watch.

Laha turned to give the Governess her most congenial smile.

The Governess narrowed her eyes – silver like Laha’s and Mary’s, but tired and dull like unpolished metal. With her grey-flecked dark hair coiled in a severe bun and the walking stick at her side, she looked much older than her forty-or-so years. The Governess blamed the stress of being Laha’s guardian for her premature ageing, but that was only part of the story. Beneath her matronly exterior were magnificent powers – she was a Firemaster, a keeper of the most powerful Kengian magic. Without her guidance and her ability to transform into a fire-wielding phoenix, Kypria may have been defeated during the invasion.

Laha couldn’t understand how someone with such powers could possibly be content with her current role, which consisted of nothing more than monitoring her charges and ordering them about – or, more specifically, ordering Laha about to correct her behaviours.

‘We were just admiring Mary and Alfred and how fine they appear,’ Laha said in a sickly sweet voice.

The Governess looked to Bertie for confirmation. He nodded vigorously – Bertie was simultaneously terrified and in awe of the Governess.

She sniffed. ‘Mary and Alfred are deserving of everyone’s admiration. They are doing the right thing for our kingdoms – the right thing for all of us. From this day forth they must put their countries before themselves. They will be entrusted with heavy responsibilities and must make great sacrifices.’

‘Is that a vision you’ve had?’ Laha asked cheekily.

A shadow passed over the Governess’s face and she opened her mouth as if to say something, before changing her mind. After a long pause, she spoke. ‘Mary and Alfred will need the both of you.’

‘There’s not much of a calling for a second Prince,’ Bertie grumbled.

‘Or a rejected Shaman,’ Laha said.

The Governess’s expression softened. ‘You must both play a part.’

‘But how?’ Laha asked. ‘I’ve lost my powers.’

‘Yours will come back…when you’re ready for them.’

‘And mine?’ Bertie asked hopefully.

The Governess frowned. ‘I’m afraid not. You’re not Kengian like Laha. Your powers were linked to the portal and died when it closed.’

‘A rotten way to be thanked for saving the whole known world,’ Laha said.

‘You will find your calling, Emberto,’ the Governess told him, not unkindly. ‘As will you, Laha. In the meantime, you must support Alfred and Mary. When they take their thrones, they will look to you for guidance and assistance.’

Bertie’s eyes lit up, but Laha’s face burned – the Governess had given him false hope.

‘There can only be one King and Queen,’ she snapped. ‘They will neither need nor want our assistance ruling the two kingdoms. We’re no more useful than the sycophantic followers and nobles at court.’ Her voice grew higher and louder with each word. ‘We’re worse than that. We’ve had a taste of what it’s like to have a purpose. They don’t know the difference…but we do. We know our irrelevance and the unfulfillment that comes with it.’

Seeing the crushed look on Bertie’s face, Laha regretted going so far in front of him…but she didn’t regret what she’d said. She had meant every word.

‘Laha!’ the Governess barked. ‘What am I supposed to do with you?’ She threw her free hand up in frustration. ‘Please…at the very least, show Alfred and Mary some respect – they are our future.’ She spun on her heel and hobbled away at an unexpectedly fast pace.

Laha’s fingers curled into fists by her sides. She did respect Mary and Alfred…sort of. She just couldn’t accept that that meant living in their shadows and giving up her desires. She had her own destiny, she was sure of it, even if she didn’t know what it was.

She relaxed her hands and turned to Bertie with a mischievous smile. ‘Do you want to get out of here?’

Bertie tilted his head and gave her a look that said: You remember what happened last time you took me on an adventure?

She grabbed him by the hand. ‘Come on, scaredy-cat.’

Laha led Bertie past the lines of stalls, weaving their way through the crowds. Chaos scampered away in search of sweets. Bertie wanted to stop at a stand that offered prizes for knocking over bottles with a ball, but Laha wouldn’t let him. She wanted to get away, as far away as possible.

She started running, ignoring Bertie’s protests as she pulled him along. They reached the end of the stalls and the castle loomed before them. Laha did an about-turn, veering back behind the tiltyard and stalls and heading in the direction of the woodlands.

‘Where are we going?’ Bertie cried.

Laha looked back at him and gave a wicked grin. ‘Anywhere but here!’

They ran and ran across the grounds, carving a trail through a field of wildflowers. They only stopped when they reached the top of a small rise, where Bertie begged to catch his breath. The Prince doubled over, sucking in lungfuls of oxygen, but Laha was barely puffed. She put her hands on her hips and surveyed the landscape as if it were her own kingdom. To the north-west she could see the snow-topped Nymoi Alps on the horizon: the gateway to Kengia. She expected to get some kind of feeling from seeing the mountains – a sense of home or belonging, but there was nothing.

Her gaze went to the woods; they were still some distance away, but usually she would have heard something – the baritone voices and rustling whispers from the oaks, elms, pine and silver birch. Laha missed even the simplest of her silver-eyes’ powers. A bitter taste rose in her throat and she looked away.

Her eyes fell on something at the bottom of the hill. Something entirely out of place. A lone tent, its battered sides rippling in the slight breeze.

A chill rushed through Laha’s veins. The cold gushed through her body, churning in her belly. She should have felt sick – scared, even – but she didn’t. For the first time in months, she felt…alive.

She took a deep breath and stood a little taller, embracing the powerful sensation that stirred inside her. Then the chill petered away like frost in the morning sun. A warmth grew in its place, spreading to every limb. A burning, exhilarating energy. The darkness dancing within her.

‘What is that doing there?’ came Bertie’s incredulous voice beside her.

‘I don’t know…’ she said slowly. Her whole body tingled, and a wide smile broke across her face. ‘But I’m going to find out.’

She ran down the hillside, uncaring of Bertie’s cries for her to come back. Her smile grew even wider when she heard him say ‘Blast’, and hurried footsteps sounded behind her.