Prince's Fire by Amy Raby

searched it with no success, and tried another. A glint of bright yellow winked at him from behind the leaves. He plucked the fruit. “Got another.”
    Between them, they found four. Not a feast, but better than nothing.
    Rayn sat on the bank of the creek and studied his prize. It was hard and spiky, not something he could sink his teeth into. “How is this eaten?”
    â€œWe have to get the spines off—we’ll need a sharp stone or something.” She looked around her feet.
    Rayn’s hand went to the knife holster at his belt. Had the blade survived its dunking in the ocean? The scabbard was damp on the outside and wrinkled, but he could feel the knife within it. He tugged at the hilt, working it back and forth a little, and the blade popped free, tossing a few drops of seawater into the air. “Will this do?”
    â€œYou’ve had that with you the whole time?”
    He grinned.
    She took it and cut into the fruit, peeling away the spines and the hard outer rind. She struggled with the task—clearly this was not something she had much experience with—but managed to expose the soft fruit within. She cut the edible part in half and offered Rayn a piece.
    He bit into it and chewed. It was mildly sweet, like a watery potato with notes of pear. “It’s not bad.” He’d have preferred rabbit.
    â€œThey taste better cooked,” said Celeste.
    When they finished eating, Celeste captured a crow with her mind magic and tasked it with leading them to the nearest village. The creature took the job seriously. It fluttered to a nearby tree and looked back, fixing them with sharp, black eyes, scolding raucously when they were slow to catch up.
    â€œI’m still trying to figure out those people who attacked us,” said Celeste as they walked. “You said you had enemies at home—”
    â€œI can’t see them infiltrating the ship,” said Rayn.
    â€œThese enemies at home. Are they the Land Council?”
    â€œYes,” said Rayn. “Councilor Worryn especially. He’s head of the council.”
    â€œI was told they hate you because you opposed some laws they tried to pass.”
    Rayn eyed her. “You’ve got your ear to the ground, haven’t you? Yes, they tried to pass some laws that my father would have opposed, had he not been ill. I rallied the Inyan people and managed to defeat the laws.”
    â€œTell me about your father’s illness. Can the Healers do nothing?”
    â€œIt’s incurable.”
    â€œWhat is the nature of his illness?”
    Rayn balked. He didn’t want to talk about this. He didn’t like to even think about it. “Physically, he’s healthy. The problem is with his mind.”
    She turned, startled. “He’s mad?”
    â€œIt’s more that he . . . forgets things.”
    â€œThat doesn’t sound so bad.”
    â€œImportant things, like the names of people he’s known for years. Details of how Inya’s government is supposed to work. When I was a child, he was a wise and thoughtful ruler. He gave me lots of advice, things I’ll never forget. But now . . . he’s not the same man.”
    â€œI’m so sorry. Do you know the cause?”
    Rayn shook his head. “I don’t. It happened gradually. We first noticed when he began forgetting important meetings and misremembering the councilors’ names. Then he started getting lost in the palace. A year later, he set his bedsheets on fire—he’s a fire mage, like me—and we had to take away his riftstone.”
    â€œThree gods, I can’t imagine. How long ago did this start?”
    â€œWhen I was eleven,” said Rayn. “By the time I was fourteen, he was helpless, and the council was quietly issuing decisions through him. Bad decisions he would never have made when his mind was intact, decisions he would have advised me not to make. That’s