But my power would increase as well.
I closed my eyes, feeling the shard’s magic, feeling its strength, imagining it was mine. Imagining I knew what to do, that I had the power to wield it.
Something moved through me, a shock of magic.
You chose wrong, Ereshya. Again.Mercurial’s laugh rang like a bell in my mind.
I tightened my hold on the shard, staring down an akadim who passed the threshold of my room, his pale skin mixed with the light of the shard made him appear almost blue.
We’ll see about that, Mercurial. We’ll see.
The beast grumbled, its red eyes tracking my every movement.
“Get out,” I seethed, my heart pounding furiously. The akadim rushed off in fear, and my eyes widened. Once again, I was alone.
CHAPTER FIVE
LYRIANA
Meera frowned. “Gently, Lyr. It’s a light movement. You don’t need so much force. Like this.” She demonstrated the spell again with her stave.
I took a deep breath, and repeated the words, my wrist turning exactly like hers.Gently.“Ani petrova lyla.”Power rushed through me, my body suddenly alive with it. The lighted torch above me, and every other fire in the cave withdrew into the shadows, until each flame was vanquished. Smoke hissed from the dying embers as we were cloaked in darkness.
“You did it,” Meera said happily.
“Again,” I said, my eyes still trying to adjust to the black of the cave. I could hear her resheathing her stave in her belt.
“Lyr, you’re casting spells perfectly. Really perfectly. You just have to soften your wrist-work.”
“Please,” I said. “Again.”
Meera sighed, but she cast the spell for light. Within seconds the cave torches flared, the fires crackling and spitting. I squinted as my eyes readjusted. Meera stood before me, a slightly annoyed yet somehow still graceful expression on her face. We’d now surpassed a full week of living in this cave. Color had returned to Meera’s cheeks, and her strength hadgreatly improved as she rested and ate regularly. She’d even started concocting different soups and stews with the vegetables Rhyan brought home after patrol, some recipes with more success than others.
Gathering more food was exactly where Rhyan was right now. He was doing his daily patrol of Glemaria, memorizing the schedules of the soturi on duty. He’d tracked their routes and patterns, and discovered the tiny holes that existed in the change of guard each hour. He was meticulous with patrol, taking notes on everything. It was helpful, but it also worried me. He was pushing himself to the point of exhaustion, often passing out upon his return.
I found myself missing him more and more. I wished we had more time during the day to be together. As well as more time at night … But we had no choice. We couldn’t make any mistakes leaving Glemaria. Not with his father inside its borders, nor with the additional legion he’d sent to hunt us down. By Rhyan’s estimate, there were hundreds of soturi scouring the countryside for signs of him. And of me.
Not to mention his father’s nahashim were constantly slithering the grounds. They couldn’t go through the walls of the cave, we’d learned—not unless they caught direct sight of him, so he was careful to remain unseen, to jump from inside the cave and our wards to a great distance beyond every time he left. It was part of the reason he was so tired.
My heart thundered wildly whenever he was gone. I trusted Rhyan’s strength, and I trusted his vorakh. But unlike the other countries we’d hidden across the Empire, the people here knew Rhyan. They’d watched him grow up as the Heir Apparent, the soturi had trained beside him, fought with him. He was far too recognizable, especially with his scar. Simply pulling up the hood of his cloak as he’d done before wasn’t going to be enough.
We’d discussed the possibility of me going out with him, or even the idea of me taking over patrol so he could rest. But the constant jumps carrying me would only wear him out unnecessarily. And he knew the countryside best, knew the routes in the wilds that the soturi took. Even if I didn’t get lost, it was physically impossible for me to cover the same amount of ground. And if my hood ever flew off my head in the sun my hair would turn red beneath—a dead giveaway to my identity. So, while he was out, I stayed with Meera. I focused on keeping up my soturion training, studying the magic I’d always wanted to learn, and testing her soups.
“I still want to practice,” I said, rolling the stave in my hand. “The spell needs to be perfect.”
“Why?” Meera asked.
“Why not?”
Meera shook her head, a sudden flare of irritation in her aura. “You’re not in the Mage Academy, Lyr. No one’s grading you. No one can even see you. So why this obsession with perfection when you’re doing more than fine?”
“I like to do things right,” I said. “I always have.”
She made a sound of frustration, staring at the ceiling. “Then I need a break.”
“Just watch me?” I pleaded. “You can sit down and rest. I’ll practice some other spells. Let me know if you have any notes.”
“I have a note.” She placed her hand on her hip. “Take a break.”
