Then Theira threw open the door, slamming it against her house with a bang, and advanced onto her doorstep.
One first-tier adept, with a passel of lower-tier sorcerers. The most skilled sorceresses worked alone, but they would know it would take more than one to take her down on her own turf if it came to that.
And oh, it would come to that.
“Hello, Kryseia,” Theira addressed the sorceress in charge of this expedition, pretending to take a sip of tea. “Lovely weather in my garden today, don’t you think?”
Kryseia’s ice blue eyes flickered at the reminder that she stood on Theira’s prepared ground.
Or maybe it was at her disrespect.
Kryseia tossed her elaborately and immaculately styled platinum hair, such a contrast to Theira’s wild dark locks streaming around her. “My title is First-Tier Adept Kryseia.”
“Likewise mine,” Theira said idly. “Unless you mean to suggest that having more time to myself has worsened my skill?”
Kryseia glared, but none of the others even exchanged glances; they had chosen to obey Kryseia without question, which meant there was nothing Theira could do for them. Kryseia had long since attached her star to orbiting the Sorcerer Ascendant Tychon’, had probably volunteered for this mission to recover her dignity after Theira had shown her up on the battlefield not once, but twice.
“I’m not here to exchange pleasantries with you, the so-calledSorceress Transcendent, who abandoned her duty,“ Kryseia declared. “We know you’re holding the former legatus Varius Aurelian. Bring him out, and we’ll be on our way out of your life once more.”
That title. It probably didn’t bode well for Theira, if even the Sorcerer Ascendant’s top lackeys were using it. Kryseia’s bitterness was a bigger surprise but easily accounted for by the fact that Theira had any title that she didn’t.
Theira waited for Kryseia to finish.
Then she calmly took another mock-sip of tea, drawing it out.
Two of the lower-tier sorcerers broke their stare without moving, gazes flicking around for activity.
Wise. Much too late, but admirable instincts.
Kryseia ground her teeth.
“You don’t call, you don’t write, and you show up at my doorstep making demands,” Theira said. “I’m retired, Kryseia. And even if I weren’t, I don’t take orders from you.”
That undeniable refusal was the signal Kryseia’s team was evidently waiting for. They began to fan out, their spells activating.
Theira had to give Kryseia credit though; for all her personal dislike, she had to know how this could go, and she gave it one last shot.
No doubt on the chance it might distract her, because Kryseia, too, would have learned to use every possible advantage.
“You don’t want to do this, Theira,” Kryseia said, her voice all false sympathy, with no effort to disguise her condescension. “You know as well as anyone what Varius has done to Korossia. We can take him off your hands, and you can keep your little retirement and never have to fight again. This doesn’t have to be your problem.”
Theira smiled.
And without moving slammed the door shut behind her.
“I believe there has been a misunderstanding, Kryseia,” Theira said gently. “You seem to be under the impression that I have lost my taste for battle.”
Vines erupted out of the ground, grabbing a portion of Kryseia’s party who’d begun casting at her house and snapping their necks in an instant.
She grinned widely at Kryseia.
“I assure you,” Theira purred, her blood singing, “this is not the case.”
Kryseia’s eyes went wide, but she didn’t miss a beat, yelling orders and snapping a hand out in the same moment to fire a blast of sheer power at Theira. Her own power, even, no doubt to buy time to finish getting other spells into place.
Had Theira been unprepared, this would have been very impressive. But no first-tier adept, and Theira least of all, was ever that unprepared.
Not to mention they were on Theira’s ground.
