All The Skills

Arthur read the card. To his continued surprise, it was a Common.

Well. That likely explained how Valentina had managed to keep it under wraps.

Subtle Influence

Common

Mind

The wielder of this card will be granted the power to subtly influence direct conversations in which they are participating. The wielder will be able to push a subtle weight to all of their words, which will have the effect of nudging a conversation in the direction they wish. This is a minor influence and may be counteracted by a strong will. Conversely, this card will have a greater effect on an unsteady, weak, or compromised mind. This is an active skill that uses mana.

Seeing this card colored every conversation he’d ever had with Valentina. He couldn’t pinpoint a specific incidence he had been manipulated, but Valentina had always seemed like a larger than life person, as if she held an outsized presence in the room.

He thought it was the force of her personality. Now, he wondered.

Looking at her as she held the card out to him—what must have been the major source of her power—she seemed . . . diminished. And he didn’t think it was only because she was dying.

“What are you waiting for?” she croaked, a thin smile on her lips. “Surely you have a card that has unlocked the use of mana?”

It was meant to be a joke, but it fell flat.

Mind cards were strictly regulated for good reasons.

Not that it had stopped Arthur. Brix’s mind-messaging ability had come straight from one of the Mind Singer’s “sisters.”

No, Arthur was bothered by something else.

“Valentina, you know the cards that I have,” he said carefully. “We talked about the cards I had back at Buck Moon Hive.” Pause. “Remember?”

She stared at him for a moment, and then her gaze went vague. “No, we didn’t. In . . . Buck Moon Hive? When was . . .?” She shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t recall. You are young, Arthur. As you get older, the days seem to fly by faster and faster. Memories pile up, they jumble together and . . . sometimes, I’m afraid I lose details. I’m not the only one.” Her gaze sharpened to make her seem more like her usual self, and she speared him with a significant look.

“You’re talking about the king.”

Nodding, she finally dropped her outstretched hand, though the card still stayed in place, hovering between them on a small pillow of cloud.

“Of course I’m talking about the king.” She raised a thin hand to rub at her temple. “That man is more gone than present most of the time, as you’re now well aware.” She let out a long sigh. “I am sorry.”

Arthur’s eyebrows went up. “About?”

“We should have prepared you on what to expect with the king. Well, I should have. Whitaker was supposed to at least advise you, but even when I ordered him to do it, I knew there would be little hope he’d follow through. Nevertheless, I understand you’re still angry. From what I’ve gleaned, it was a close call, was it not?”

He kept his answer to a clipped “It was.”

“I think I feared getting my hopes up over you,” Valentina continued. “I was wrong and acted like a coward. I should have known that someone who managed to come from nothing and yet still beat out all those other brats to link with a Legendary dragon would have the gumption to succeed with the king. But I suppose that’s part of growing old, too. It becomes easier and easier to fall into pessimism . . .”

She trailed off, and Arthur found himself at a loss of what to say. He didn’t want to tell her that he forgave her, because he hadn’t. He was still irritated over his incident with the king, and he knew that Brixaby was practically enraged. The dragon never forgave, and though Arthur tried to be a calming influence, this time, he agreed.

Again, Valentina’s eyes had gone vague. “That is the push and pull of life—the great catch. The people who are most likely to have great power are rarely forced to forge the life skills to lead. Or worse, they wield the strength of their cards against every problem like a hammer. They think that gives them true power, but it makes them effectively useless as a leader.”

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Arthur watched her carefully. And he wondered if part of her fragile appearance wasn’t an act because she had very neatly circled back around to her original point. “Now you’re talking about Whitaker.”

“Of course I am,” she snapped, showing a bit of her usual feistiness. “The man should have never been given a Legendary card, much less gotten close to an unlinked dragon. Remember this in the future when a highly ranked egg is laid: Dragons choose on the compatibility and power of the cards in the heart, not on their rider’s personality. And certainly not on capability.”

But that wasn’t entirely true, Arthur thought. Or else Brixaby would have chosen his cousin, Penn.

Well. Maybe not when Brixaby had first hatched. There were some issues with Brixaby’s own core card being incomplete, and Arthur had a pair of Legendary cards in his heart to Penn’s one. But later, when the king had given Brixaby the option to switch riders, take Arthur’s cards for himself, and have access to Master of Combat to boot . . . Brixaby could have easily had all the power he wanted.

Instead, he’d rejected Penn completely.

Unaware of Arthur’s thoughts, Valentina continued. “If life was fair and just, Whitaker would have remained a useless noble dilettante. He could have been placed comfortably on the outer portion of his father’s lands while a more capable sibling took over management. By my own first card, he could have been happy, and he wouldn’t have been put in a position to do anyone any damage. Instead, he was regulated to this small northern hive.” She snorted. “The king’s mind is lost, but he is still shrewd about personalities. He knows what Whitaker is.”

Arthur couldn’t help himself. “If that’s the case, why are you in this hive?”

She smiled, exposing a good set of teeth that were nevertheless grayed with age. “He knew I was too much of a threat to his power to put me anywhere else.” Her mirth faded. “But as you can see, my time is coming to an end. Soon, Whitaker will be in charge of everything here—in name. And it will be your job to manage him.”

The mind card was still up for grabs and not in Valentina’s heart. So there was no excuse for why her words hit him so hard—except that they were the simple truth.

Arthur saw his own life yawning out ahead of him. Decades and decades of managing Whitker away from his worst impulses. All the while, the man wouldn’t take him seriously because Arthur was younger and more junior to him.

Arthur would be left to do all the work to hold the hive together. Meanwhile, the wolves of the other hives would be ever circling, waiting to swoop in and take whatever Arthur didn’t manage to keep safe.

And above them, the undying king would always be waiting for him to make a fatal misstep.

He was in for a life of deep frustration born out of stagnation, because if Arthur was stuck doing the actual work, when would he ever be able to grow stronger?

A voice that sounded a lot like Brixaby whispered they could always arrange a convenient “accident” for Whitaker.

But then, surely, the other hives would take the opportunity to pounce. If they took over Wolf Moon Hive completely, Arthur would be placed as a junior Legendary somewhere else—and carefully watched and untrusted because he had originally come from a different hive.

His job, his life, would be frustrating and largely thankless . . . and for what?

Looking at Valentina, he saw deep sympathy in her eyes. She knew what he was in for because she’d been carrying this load for the hive for a long time. But the difference between them was that she’d had seniority over Whitaker and therefore some influence over his worst impulses.

Arthur didn’t.

“What even is the point?” Arthur blurted.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Someday, Whitaker will die and you will ascend to the high leader position. There may even be another Legendary egg laid in the interim. If you’re clever enough to keep it here in this hive, you may be able to cultivate an ally—”

“No,” he said sharply. “I’m not talking about this stupid power play. I’m talking about the war. What is the point? We’re about to go up against a scourgeling that has taken over one of the free hives and all the dragons in it . . . but what then? Never-ending fighting against endless eruptions while managing someone who can’t be bothered to manage himself? I have better things to do with my time—with my life—than play babysitter and contribute to a perpetual war. Where do the scourgelings even come from? Do you know? Does anyone?”

She didn’t answer and, frustrated, he continued.

“Valentina, there has to be a better way than waiting around to act and then fighting. There’s more to learn than what’s inside this kingdom. I’ve seen beyond the borders—”

“What may or may not be out there isn’t your concern,” she said firmly. “Your duty is to Wolf Moon Hive. You made that agreement when you decided to link with your dragon. It’s the price of power. Now,” she added sharply when he opened his mouth. With a shooing motion, she pushed the tiny cloud carrying the card at him. “You know what kind of a card this is and why you must keep it secret. You’re no idiot, Arthur. Take it.”

Arthur snapped his mouth shut. Not because he had more to say, but because he knew whatever words he managed would fall on deaf ears. He gave no voice to the resentment boiling in his heart.

But he knew now that as much as he would be able to do—even if he dedicated his entire life to the hive—it wouldn’t matter. He would be stuck mitigating the disaster that was Whitaker without truly being able to grow his own power. He’d have precious little time, if any, for concerns outside the hive. And even if he did, he’d be closely watched. That meant no more helping people like his father.

Arthur had become part of the system that had helped imprison his family. He was now powerful, but with responsibilities that weighed him down like chains.

At the same time, Arthur had some sense. He wasn’t going to argue with a dying woman who had dedicated her entire life to the status quo.

But as Arthur took the Common mind card, he promised himself that her life was not going to be his.

The cycle ended here.