He kissed the little creature on its wet, black nose, and it whined and chattered at him.
Caelum put it down.
He watched it trot back to its hole. Its tail rippled with blue-green flames before it reached the entrance, and Caelum grinned.
Then he turned around and dashed back towards the gardens, and the rear gates of the Black Tower’s grounds.
“Come here.”
Caelum felt his whole body tense. His muscles knotted, seeming to lock in place under his nearly translucent skin. Within seconds, his whole body hurt. His arms, back, and shoulders. His neck. His face. He could feel it, a whisper of magic crackling in the air.
Something dense. Foreboding.
His father’s expression didn’t move.
Caelum couldn’t wait. He knew he didn’t have long before he’d pay for his hesitation. He stood up from where he’d been sitting cross-legged on the floor.
“What did you do today?” his father asked.
Caelum didn’t look up.
His father didn’t like it when he met his eyes.Do not stare at me insolently, like we’re equals. Lower your eyes, before I remove one of them––
“Manipulation spells,” he blurted. “Some scrying. With the crystal in the library.”
“How long?”
“T-two. Two hours?” Caelum guessed.
“You’re sure of that?”
Caelum frowned, staring at the flagstones. “I think so.”
“What next?”
“Spells… I mean, shielding spells. Defensive shields,” he corrected, knowing his father didn’t like imprecision. “I tried to create the mirrored kind.”
“How long?”
“Three hours.”
“You are quite sure?” his father asked.
Caelum felt his heart pound harder in his chest. His fingers compulsively pulled and tugged and twisted in the fabric of his jumper behind his back. His father noticed.
The cane came down, hard, on his fingers.
It happened so fast, Caelum sucked in a breath.
It took another second before the pain seared through his hands.
One of his fingers no longer worked right.
Something was wrong with it.
“Don’t fidget, Caelum,” his father warned.
There was a hum in his words, something akin to pleasure. Humor, even.
