“Mother, if you would please.”
Risna took a knife and threw it at her daughter. Before Elizabeth could gasp, the knife clattered to the floor, as if it had struck an invisible barrier. Unharmed, Nasera gave a rare smile.
“How do I do this?” Elizabeth breathed.
“We will start small. You will ward your hand and imagine your magic coating it in a protective barrier.”
“Varda!” Her magic coated her fingers in her patchy green fire and flickered. She tried twice more and was able to conjure a thin layer of magic on her skin.
Nasera looked at her skeptically. “May I?”
Elizabeth extended her hand. Nasera grazed her palm, and Elizabeth felt a slight pressure in some places but skin against skin in others.
“It is there, but sloppy work.”
She scowled but noted Nasera was carefully examining the wards she had created and pointing out the spots she needed to improve. Even if Nasera was doing it grudgingly, she was still helping her.
Elizabeth focused on the barrier of magic enveloping her hand, elated to have finally found a spell that came easily to her.
“You will practice this. The ability to create shields on your skin and in your mind may very well save your life one day. All the more important since you can’t manage any offensive spells.” Nasera glanced down. “Try again.”
Elizabeth raised a barrier on her hand again, and Nasera peered at it. “Rubbish. Make a stronger one.”
Elizabeth did her best to oblige, pouring her energy into it. Her energy flagged, but she was gratified to see a thin layer of green completely envelope her hand and arm.
“Better.”
She raised a flickering shield on her hand, and Nasera took a stick and lightly smacked her hand. “Do you feel it?”
“No.”
Nasera raised the stick, a silent demand for her to try again. Elizabeth said the words again, and the patches in her barrier closed and thickened.
“Go for it,” she said to Nasera.
Nasera struck her hand smartly, but she felt nothing. Nasera gave her a moment to compose herself. She smacked her hand again, and it smarted. A red mark bloomed across her skin.
“Sloppy,” Nasera said softly. “That castle you grew up in made you soft. Weak. Undisciplined.”
Gods, she despised Nasera. She was truly a witch in every sense of the word. She didn’t trust herself to speak without snapping at her that she wastrying.
“I’m going to hit you harder now. On your arm.” Nasera indicated the part on her forearm. “You need to make the barrier stronger. We will ignore the fingers for now—they’re more complicated to shield. Ward from wrist to your elbow. Make it stronger than the last one.” Nasera’s voice brooked no argument.
Elizabeth lifted her arm to her eyes and imagined a thick, translucent layer covering the area. She whispered the words and watched the magic ripple over her flesh. In her mind’s eye, she reinforced it and fueled it with more magic.
Nasera stood above her, drawing the stick over her hand, lining up where she was going to strike.
“Focus,” Nasera instructed.
Elizabeth did, pouring energy into it. Looking up at Nasera, she nodded.
Nasera whipped the stick at her arm with great force, and Elizabeth cringed out of reflex. The stick rebounded off the barrier as if it were made of stone.
It worked.
She grinned, happy to have finally made some progress.
Nasera said nothing, only raising her eyebrows at her mother.
