She quirks her bushy white brows and repeats herself. “What did you feel the other times you cast shadows?” She stands so still that she could be a statue; meanwhile I can’t stop picking at my sleeve. I clasp my hands together to stop fidgeting.
There was that moment I found out that Osheen had betrayed us. “Anger,” I say after an uncomfortably long pause. “Hopelessness. Sadness … Betrayal.” Tears sting my eyes as a cool sensation runs down my arms and tingles my hands.
“Look,” Oksana says. I turn my gaze away from her lips to my hands where tiny tendrils of black shadows dance on my fingertips.
I hold my hands up, watching the tendrils waver like ink in water. My heart hiccups as I bite back the unease. My hands start to tremble, and I clench them into fists, snuffing out the darkness.
The lines in Oksana’s face deepen again. “Why did you restrain yourself?”
A tremor runs through me. “I grew up with stories of Dark Mages. I fear that if I continue to develop these powers, they’ll corrupt me.”
Her chest rises then deflates with a deep, resigned sigh. “The stories you grew up with were grossly misconstrued. A few Dark Mages ruined the reputation of all Wielders of the dark forces. Maybe it’s time you showed people otherwise.”
If only I could get a simple shield to work.
“In the past, Wielders used amplifiers, at least for training. Amplifiers strengthen powers—so you can imagine how dangerous that can become.”
I think back to when my powers unleashed in the midst of my rage toward Osheen and imagine if that had been amplified. My clothes suddenly feel too tight. Does Oksana want me to use an amplifier?
“Clearly your powers are motivated by your emotions, so let’s use that before we resort to an amplifier.”
My shoulders sag with relief.
“You have so many fears and uncertainties bottled up. We just need you to learn to unleash them.” Oksana shoves her hand into her pocket then slips a coin into my palm. The metal is cool against my skin. “Tell me … if your younger brother was being attacked by Forayers?—”
She doesn’t need to say more. A cold sensation builds in my chest and trickles down my arms again. I close my eyes and focus on my hand, leaving whatever else Oksana says unknown as I try to summon a shield. When I open my eyes, the coin in my hand is obscured by a small, wavering dome of translucent black. It’s not as beautiful as Oksana’s light shield but, as she reaches out to touch the coin, it stops her hand from going any further, and she smiles.
“Well done, child. Now let’s work on runes again.”
The throbbing behind my eyes intensifies as I finally arrive at the house assigned to us. As I turn onto the flower-lined pathway, I spot a familiar face. Thick plaits hang down to her waist as she leans casually against the whitewashed stone wall. Her arms are crossed over her chest, her leather vest hanging open to reveal a loose tunic left unlaced at the neck. Her eyes lock on mine, and my stomach drops.
My steps waver. For being Alys and Dayfyd’s daughter, Ava is nothing like them. While Alys is benevolent and nurturing, Ava is anger incarnate and all hard edges. Ava has the same golden brown complexion and hazel eyes as Dayfyd, her hair jet black like Alys’s rather than Dayfyd’s brown coils. She doesn’t have even a breath of her parents’ serenity. In every instance that I’ve been in her presence, she’s glared at me as though she intends to banish me with just one look.
Disdain pinches her brows as she pushes off the wall of the house and signs with impressive fluency, “How goes your training with Oksana?”
Surprised by her proficiency with signing, I blink.
She waves her hand in front of my face. “Hello?”
“It’s going fine,” I motion quickly.
“Have you gotten command of your shadows?”
This time I hesitate. Icouldlie to her, but what good would that do?
“I’ll take your silence as ano.” She flicks a few of her long braids over her shoulder and props her fists on her hips.
“I managed to erect a small shadow shield around a coin this morning.”
Her nose wrinkles in a scowl. For a moment, she just stares at me as though she’s tasted something bitter, then she signs, “Show me.”
Heart hammering, I lift my hand and focus on my palm. I try to think of all the moments I’d used my shadow wielding, just as Oksana had prompted me to not long ago. This time, however, my hands grow clammy, and my head pounds even more than it already had been.
“It’s been two weeks of training, and youstillcannot conjure shadows at will. Are you serious about joining the rebellion?”
“Yes, of course,” I say, the words slipping from my lips before I can even sign. “Icanconjure them. It just takes a mo?—”
“Do you think that an attacker is going to give you a moment to get your shit together?” she asks. “You think they’re going to excuse you because of—” She gestures vaguely to my body. “—whatever is going on?”
