Karvey stood on the roof ridge, solid as the stone he was carved from, wings tucked tight while his gaze swept the tree line with the patience of something that had watched centuries pass.
He looked up, and his eyes widened.
Recognition dawned slowly across his face as he took in the sight of me on a broom, hovering above the cottage.
He blinked once, very deliberately, then raised one heavy stone hand. I couldn’t tell if it was approval or disbelief.
I grinned anyway and tipped the broom slightly in greeting.
Karvey shook his head, the movement slow and unmistakably unimpressed.
I chose to interpret it as fond exasperation.
Along the roofline and through the trees, the Stone Ward shimmered faintly along the edge of the trees.
I circled lower over the tree line.
The Ward held. I couldn’t see any rupture or crack in it, but along the outer edge, something moved. I spotted faint ripples in the air, the way heat shimmers over pavement in the middle of summer.
Something had touched it, tested the boundary, and pulled back.
My birthmark flared again.
“Keep your eyes steady, Karvey. The Priestess is trying her best to reach through the Wards.”
“Absolutely, Headmistress. We’re on it.”
I felt the searing sensation on my hip again. It wasn’t the steady pulse I associated with the Stone Ward. This one burned sharper.
Flame.
The sting deepened, and I didn’t hesitate.
I leaned forward, urging the broom faster.
It responded immediately, surging ahead as the wind rose around me. Branches blurred beneath my boots, and the cottage fell away behind me.
The Flame Ward lay farther in town, anchored near the iron gate and the old building that housed the memory cauldrons—a seam of magic that had always been a little more volatile than the others.
The closer I flew, the warmer the air became.
Something was definitely happening out there.
It wasn’t fire that called for help.
Not yet, anyway. But the potential for it hung in the air.
The Flame Ward never looked the same as the Stone Ward. Where Stone formed a steady barrier, the Flame Ward moved like breath, expanding and settling in a slow rhythm, but that was only when you stepped inside the building.
But as I circled the towering building, the magic drew in too sharply.
My birthmark flared hot, and I hissed through my teeth as I angled the broom downward.
It didn’t appreciate the sudden descent. The broom’s nose dipped too far, and the handle fought me before I managed to pull it back under control.
Before I could even begin to correct a thing, we landed with an intense thud.
My boots hit the ground, and the broom skidded sideways, its bristles scattering leaves like it was personally baffled by the whole maneuver. I managed to catch myself before fully face-planting into the dirt.
