Roland made an anguished groan and turned in a circle on his book. “I try! I try to make you fluent at channeling magic and taking on opponents, but you are content to play dressmaker—with excruciatinglyterribletaste in clothes, I might add, which only adds to the insult of your openingmove!”
It issuchfun to pull his tail—proverbiallyspeaking.
Pusshatedwhen Angelique did anything less-than-elegant. He thought it didn’t suit the image of an enchantress-in-training. Naturally, this meant she took great pains to do unexpected—and silly—spells in between bouts of serious training. (And particularly when Evariste was notpresent.)
Angelique struggled to keep a smirk off her lips. “Fine, I’ll do better this time,” she promised. She narrowed her eyes in concentration as she felt for her magic. She was faster at taking what she needed now—all thanks to Roland and his numerous drills, which also kept her physical skills sharp—but what she was about to attempt would take no small amount ofcontrol.
Picture it first, she coached herself.Recall the noises, and bring them all in at once…NOW! In the span of a few short seconds, a flock of at least one hundred chickens surrounded thedummy.
The chickens clucked, and some of them scratched in the dirt. A few even wandered up to the dummy and pecked atit.
Roland groaned and collapsed. “That’s it. You’re hopeless. Even a brilliant teacher such as myself cannot aid you. You are beyondreach.”
“They’re a distraction.” Angelique let herself grin at the cat’s back. “And it would be hard for him to maneuver around all thosechickens.”
Roland whipped around and glared ather.
“Fine, fine, I’ll try again.” Angelique made the dress and illusion chickens disappear. She furrowed her brow as she sifted through possibilities, then selected one and struck, flinging mud at the dummy so it spattered it in theface.
Roland rolled onto his back. “That’s it, you’ve made it clear. I am not training an enchantress-in-training, but a courtjester!”
Angelique frowned. “Flinging mud is a perfectly viable technique,” she said, a little peeved the cat didn’t approve. (Mixing water and dirt and flinging it at such a speed was not child’splay!)
“What?” the cat sat up. “Oh, you actually used a magic technique that would work in addition to humoring children. Howrare.”
“You hadn’t even bothered to look before you accused me of being a court jester!” Angeliquecomplained.
Roland stuck his nose in the air. “I wouldn’t have assumed if you acted yourage!”
Angelique huffed as she returned her gaze to the dummy. Deep in her soul, her war magic pushed, longing to break free—and likely impale the batteredtarget.
Angelique was so practiced in the art of ignoring her core magic, she didn’t even think as she shoved it down deep. “He’s distracted. Does that mean I get to strikeagain?”
“Yes,” Roland said. “This time your goal is to arresthim.”
Angelique nodded. “Still in acity?”
The cat tilted his head in thought. “No. The countryside. In a meadow withlivestock.”
Angelique nodded, then started pulling her magic and simultaneously twisting it into the spell she wanted. She could draw and twist with markedly more finesse—and at a greater speed than she had even a year ago. As she worked, a wall of thorns sprouted out of the ground, encircling thedummy.
“An excellent choice,” Puss praised as the wall grew from knee-high to waist-high. “A plant-based wall won’t negatively impact the environment, and while it will effectively stop your target, there is no chance of killing him. However, it is possible he could cut or burn a path throughthem.”
“It depends on the type of magic he has,” Angelique agreed. “But I thought it was my safest bet. Particularly if I can get them to growfast.”
Intending to demonstrate, Angelique pushed more magic into the vines than she had available and twisted at the moment, creating a sort of inner magical vacuum that made her reel and her stomachroll.
She fell to her knees and gagged, then groaned. “I was doing sowell!”
Roland hopped off his book mountain and padded up to her. “This is why we practice—so you don’t make idiot mistakes like this in the field.” Though his words were smug, he leaned into Angelique and purred in a comforting gesture. “If you allowed your magic freedom…” he trailed off, mercifully cutting off the oldargument.
Roland, like Evariste, felt Angelique should let her magic flowfreely, that she shouldn’t wall it off. (As ifthatwouldn’t be a safety hazard for everyone near her!) But neither he nor Evariste pushed her much on the matter,thankfully.
When the nausea passed, Angelique rearranged herself so she sat pretzel style. She plucked up Roland, who meowed in protest as she cradled him in her arms and proceeded to cuddlehim.
“I’m so lucky to have a companion like you, aren’t I?” she asked as she kissed hishead.
“I am not a companion; I am an assistant!” Rolandyowled.
