Page 49 of The Last Syphon

“Because you’re deceitful.” She winked.

Most might think that was a negative trait to have, but Inara thought the opposite. As long as Felix didn’t use that deceitfulness on her, she didn’t mind. In fact, she found it could be quite useful at times. He did come up with some pretty good ideas from time to time.

The dining hall was a grand space. High, vaulted ceilings. Chandeliers with luminary candles. Long tables that spanned one end of the room to the other, decorated with long, red tablecloths that ran down the centres and silver dishware. Cushioned chairs that had no right being as comfy as they were.

It was abuzz with activity. People came and went, talking, laughing. Some were accompanied by their Guardians. Others were by themselves. Every person who walked past stopped to bow to the princess before continuing on with whatever they were doing.

Not one acknowledged Inara or Felix.

Not that they cared.

They weren’t here to make friends. They were here to make coin.

“I suppose they don’t technically have to know,” Princess Phaedra began slowly. “They do not oversee the production or any of the finer details of the trials. But it may be too late. The trials start in the morn. There’s also the added complication that you are, in fact, a Chosen, and therefore, you will have an unfair advantage.”

“Unfair advantage? How?”

“Chosen are able to draw power from their Guardian. Strength. Agility. Not to mention their abilities. No one else in the trials will have such benefits. It will be unjust. If you were to win, it would be debated whether you won because of your own abilities or those bestowed upon you by your Guardian.”

Inara’s mood plummeted. She wanted to compete and win, but not to have her win questioned like that. Have people talk that she only won because she was soul-linked, not because of her own power or talent.

Especially Larissa.

Kronan, standing behind the princess, leant forward and whispered something in her ear.

Princess Phaedra’s eyes lit up. “Of course. Smart thinking. A Brander?”

A Brander was someone with the ability to burn a symbol onto someone’s skin—a symbol that was imbued with whatever power the Brander gave. A brand to make someone fly. A brand to render someone invisible. A brand to give someone super strength. Or super speed.

It was not permanent and would only last for a short time. The stronger the Brander, the more elaborate and complex they could make the brand.

Inara speared a roasted potato onto her fork and brought it to her lips. “But a Brander bestows power. They don’t take it away.”

“A Brander can imbue a brand to do whatever they desire, including nullifying a soul-link.”

“What?” She paused, fork hovering in the air. “You want to nullify my soul-link?”

“It wouldn’t be permanent. Just for the duration of the trial. Branders are few and far between, but I know of one. Melaine. She’s very good. I have no doubt she would be able to do it.”

Inara’s mind ran a little rampant. Is this all some sort of ploy to get me to agree to nullify my soul-link with Fraener so someone else can take it? Is that even possible? But she was the one who was pushing to enter the trials…Unless…Unless they knew she would do that and had prepared for it. Manipulated her into thinking it was her idea when really it was theirs all along⁠—

“Stop. Inhale. Breathe.”

Three simple words from her best friend made Inara instantly shut off that crazy, neurotic train of thought spiralling in her brain.

“But—”

“No. No, no, no.” Felix flicked her nose. “You’re overthinking, and there is no need. We both know brands from Branders are not permanent. If you are able to get one that temporarily makes you unable to access the soul-link between you and Chompers over there, you should do it. The other option is not worrying about the trials altogether, which I am all for, by the way.”

Inara grunted. She popped a potato into her mouth and chewed slowly. He was, of course, right. She had the tendency to go a little off script and start conjuring up insane, unlikely scenarios in her head that didn’t have an ounce of a chance of coming true.

Chompers, as he so eloquently named Fraener, was sitting upon the table, devouring the plate of food in front of him.

“Are you okay?” the princess asked, eyes inquisitive.

“She’s good. She just has a tendency to overthink sometimes and needs a reminder to ignore the voices in her head.” It was actually a little eerie, how right he was about that. Inara had to constantly tell the voices to fuck the fuck off. “Here. Eat this.” Felix did not give her the chance to decline, picking up what looked like a small pastry of some kind and shoving it past her lips.

“Ah—mm—Felix,” she began to protest with a mumble. A delectable taste exploded in Inara’s mouth, causing her brain to short-circuit and all thoughts to vanish. “Oh my Fates. That is good.” She snatched another two pastries off his plate, chomping down on one without slowing to take a breath.