State of Sorrow (Sorrow #1)(120)
“So this is all because you want to be a farmer?”
“You said no sport, Sorrow.” There was an edge to his voice. “Do you know anything about the Alvus tree?”
She wasn’t sure if she was meant to answer, so said nothing until he looked at her pointedly, then recited, “The wood makes exceptional musical instruments.” When his eyes flickered to the flask, she continued. “And if the sap is fermented, mixed with water, and then distilled, it creates a liquid called Starwater, which increases the effects of alcohol, at least in Rhyllians. In others, it’s intoxicating in a less pleasant way.” She didn’t tell him she knew about Lamentia. Not yet. She’d play that card only once she’d seen his hand.
“Very good. Well done, Sorrow. Well done.”
“I also know your half-sister hates it.”
“Because she knows what it can do. What it can really do, not what my idiot son and idiot niece achieve when they lace their champagne with it.”
Sorrow frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You were there, at the Naming. You saw the Blessers, feted, celebrated for their special gifts. And you know that not every Rhyllian is born with an ability. It’s down to fate, or nature. Or the will of the stars, if the old fairy tale is to be believed. Either way, there’s no predicting who will or won’t have one. Some families have no one with an ability; in some everyone has one.”
Sorrow nodded.
“Starwater heightens abilities,” Vespus said, picking up the flask. “Taken by anyone who has one, it enhances the power of it fivefold. It’s not the effect on other alcohol that makes Rasmus and Eirlys giddy. It’s power. They’re drunk on their own power.”
Sorrow remembered the party in Rhylla, the mania in Rasmus’s eyes and how it had scared her. She was scared now, she realized, as the magnitude of what Vespus was telling her sank in. Enhanced abilities. “How do you know?” she managed.
“How do you think?” Vespus looked at her.
“You’ve been testing on people?”
“Myself, first. Then others, when I realized what was happening. The same thing every time. That’s the true reason Melisia hates it. Why she’s not fond of me any more. Because it would be a political disaster for her if it got out. A race of people who not only have gifts beyond what their neighbours have, but who have the power to amplify them. You know the tale of Adavere and Namyra? Imagine that power, already strong, magnified. Or Eirlys’s power with ice?”
Sorrow saw exactly why it would be a problem. It would be tantamount to painting a target across the entire country; weaponizing the people would make Rhylla a potential threat to every land in Laethea. Every country would be forced to take action to get reassurances from them that they wouldn’t use it. Astria and Nyrssea would be in uproar if they found out. They wouldn’t settle for promises, or treaties. They’d want all sources of Starwater destroyed, perhaps even calling for the imprisonment of Rhyllians with abilities.
Unless they tried to harness them. Kidnapping them. Buying services from less scrupulous Rhyllians. Like Vespus.
Melisia had worked her whole life to bring peace to Rhylla, and had finally secured it, only for her own brother to discover a way to make it impossible for ever if word got out. And Vespus wanted to use Rhannon as the farm to make it happen.
Vespus waited for Sorrow to look back at him, her mouth an “O” as wave after wave of horror engulfed her, before he continued. “And there are other gifts as well. Gifts we don’t talk about. Gifts Melisia keeps hidden away, because it doesn’t suit her ideas of how Rhylla should be. She’s nice when she needs to be, my half-sister, but I didn’t get my determination from my father. Melisia has her fair share, she’s capable of making tough decisions too, when she has to.”
He paused, clearly waiting for Sorrow to ask what he meant, but she couldn’t, the air squeezed from her lungs, her terror a corset ever-tightening as his words and their meaning battered her.
When she remained silent, he gave a light shrug, and continued.
“As Rasmus can heal pain, there are those whose touch inflicts it. Rhyllians who can project visions into the mind. Imagine what that would mean, when amplified? My half-sister works so very hard to make sure the rest of Laethea doesn’t see us as a threat. Why? We are a threat. Stronger, faster, gifted. And we could be more, thanks to the sap of the Alvus tree. A tree that only I can grow with any real success.”
Sorrow finally saw then why the land was so valuable to him. Why he was willing to try for decades to get it. Why he couldn’t and wouldn’t ever stop. “If you have better land, you can grow more trees. Make more Starwater. Sell it.”
“More than that, Sorrow. Power. For every person like Melisia who thinks it’s an abomination, two others will want it. Fight for it. Fight for me to grow it for them. And that’s only the start. No one knows the full extent of what the Alvus tree is capable of,” Vespus said. “Or most plants, for that matter. Did you know all medicine comes from plants? All of it. Imagine how much there is to be discovered. What if Starwater is the secret to unlocking abilities in all Rhyllians? What if a daily dose of Starwater in a pregnant woman guarantees a child born with an ability? At present less than forty per cent of Rhyllians have one. Perhaps I could make that one hundred per cent.”
Sorrow knew then that she’d made a mistake. She should have ignored Charon’s warning when they first met Mael, and contacted the Rhyllian queen with her suspicions about Vespus. Melisia obviously had concerns about her half-brother’s ambitions all along, if Sorrow had only reached out…