“Abraxas,” Mal called after him. “Soon.”
Abraxas waved his hand in the air dismissively.
Maeve and Mal stared at the map between them. Somewhere, buried deep in that forest, was a crown forged in holy power. Maeve couldn’t get the image of it atop Mal’s head out of her mind.
“Off subject, but are you dueling tonight?”
Mal nodded. “You are as well.”
Maeve nodded.
Mal eyed her. “Does that displease you?”
“No, not at all, but I just wonder should I wear your ring?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“Isn’t that cheating?” Asked Maeve with a smirk.
“No,” said Mal, matter-of-factly.
Maeve smiled at him.
Later that evening, Maeve arrived in an already packed Dueling Hall. She made her way over to Abraxas, who was whispering something to one of Mal’s boys, newly appointed Paragon, Finnian Bell. Finnian ran out of the room hurriedly.
“What was that all about?” Maeve asked Abraxas.
“Nothing you need concern yourself with, Head Girl,” said Abraxas cooly.
“Of course.”
The list of duels was passed around. Abraxas snatched it up to wager his bets, but Maeve didn’t feel like placing any.
“Maybe if you and Mal weren’t keeping secrets, I wouldn’t either,” said Abraxas.
Maeve scoffed. “Please. I’m only keeping the secrets I’ve been asked to keep. Do not act as though you wouldn’t do the same.”
Abraxas mimicked her silently and avoided her gaze, flipping through the pages on the clipboard.
Emilia wasn’t the only one Mal was training. After Professor Larliel suggested Mal give lessons at the first duel, the parchment sheet to sign up was full by the end of the evening.
“Damn,” Maeve had said, glancing down at the paper. “Looks like I didn’t make the list.”
Mal had smirked. “Don’t think you’re getting out of your regular training so easily.”
Maeve leaned against the archway of the Dueling Hall early in the morning, keeping her distance as Mal instructed two students. They shot spells hastily back and forth.
Mal stopped them and corrected one of the boys wrist movement.
“Again,” said Mal.
The boy’s jinx was much stronger the second time. He watched them for a moment until one of them faltered.
Mal circled the center of the room and demonstrated the proper deflection needed. His shields were so strong it blew a small strand of Maeve’s hair back. She watched him in admiration. Mal stepped back, and the boys resumed their duel.
He coached them as they dueled, forcing them to be better with every spell cast. After barely dodging a spell, one boy became flustered and lost control. Sputtering sparks began flying from his palm.
“That is one of the worst disservices you could do to yourself in a fight,” said Mal calmly. “You must never lose control. Your Magic is a part of you. It isn’t an external force. It responds to your body, to your mind. Training yourself to stay grounded is crucial.”
