Nariel looks bemused. “Whatever natural charm I may possess was not an adequate antidote to killing scores of spirits, I promise. I have not known you long, but it is nevertheless abundantly clear to me that you will—what’s the phrase? You will show up, and keep showing up, and do your best. Whatever else wizards here might believe of you, it should be self-evident that persistence is among your qualities.”
“Obstinance, maybe,” I murmur, as we climb steps to an arch of tree branches that look like a portal, with only mist visible on the other side.
Nariel grins. “You’ll find your way as you are, Sierra. I have no doubt of that.”
I suck in a breath, quietly but not quietly enough that he’ll miss it.
When has anyone ever told me I was good enough?
When has anyone made such an effort to perceive me, and help me with the actual challenges I have to wrestle with?
Nariel goes still, and in another breath coalesces in shadows in front of me to take my hands.
“I believe you are up to this,” he tells me, his gaze intent on mine.
(Was it so obvious I needed to hear this? Can I trust it, given that he’s reacting to my need? How is a fallen angel the one person of everyone who can believe in someone like me—
Oh.Becausehe fell, of course.)
“I believe you will win all the magic you have ever wanted,” Nariel says. “If you doubt yourself, then please believe that I, after so many centuries, would not risk all my careful plans if I was not confident of that.” A slight smile quirks his lips, but his eyes are shadowed as he finishes, “But please allow me to believe you can do so and be happier than I have, too.”
Magic is the only happiness I have ever needed.
With Nariel looking into my eyes and professing his belief in me, for the first time in my life, that feels like a lie.
I’m not sure if I’m bolstered or shaken by his words, but Iamready to do more than just talk.
So ready.
And so, so much more.
Iactually get all the way through the setup for the second anchor without interruption.
This is so unexpected that after letting the feeling of the anchor wash over me, the knowledge that I did it, that I have now beaten my former mentor four whole times in half as many days, I turn to Nariel with a frown. So I am just in time to watch his expression turn from fierce pride to thoughtfulness to a narrow look.
“They’re here?” I ask, pulse quickening. This is oddly a relief, because if they hadn’t showed I’d have had to worry aboutwhy.
But why are they late? They would have been able to track a magical working that large, and this isn’t exactly an occasion they can afford to miss.
“Coming in fast, and they’re spreading out,” Nariel says. “With the forest empty I cloaked a wide enough area that they don’t have a precise fix on the magical surge they detected.”
That might explain what kept them, but—“Then why don’t you look happy?”
“Their formation is... odd. I suspect they have someone with them who isn’t a mage, because I’m not sensing any magic in a place I’d expect to.”
I frown. If he’s not sensing magic, it couldn’t be an object either—there would be no point for them to bring a nonmagical item with them. “A local guide, maybe?”
We meet each other’s eyes. This is vanishingly unlikely: The mage team would have arrived at the forest where they felt the magic, not gone elsewhere for local expertise.
But I also can’t think of why they would have brought someone without magic from High Earth, which means they wentsomewherefirst.
Or there’s another explanation I’m not thinking of, but either way, I’m worrying.
“How wide an area are they covering?” I asked.
“They’re not to the anchor yet. We can still meet them before they set eyes on it.”
“Let’s make that happen, then.”
