Motioning with my free hand to correct her, I keep lashing out with my blade, challenging her to block my blows. Talking to the two of them, even while sparring, is almost effortless. And kind of fun. I can see why Valoria likes them so much.
“What brought you two to Grenwyr City?” I ask as we all take a water break.
“Family stuff,” Bryn answers, a slight edge to her voice.
“As in, we both left ours when we heard about Valoria wanting to meet mages with unusual abilities,” Sarika adds, sounding wistful. “I was going to visit my parents soon, but they want me to stay put until the fever dies down.”
“How about you?” I ask Bryn, passing her a waterskin. “Any plans to visit home?”
She shakes her head as she lifts her scarf to take a drink, her mouth forming a thin line, and I catch her eye to let her know she doesn’t need to say more. I understand. For some of us, the family we choose seems to stick better than the family we were given.
Sarika breaks the slight note of tension in the air with a sudden chorus of “King for a Day,” and everyone laughs.
Even me.
Jax strides toward us, his stomach muscles rippling with each step in the absence of his shirt, having just finished checking on the other sparring pairs. “I’d ask if you’d like a little one-on-one,” he says, meeting my gaze and grinning slightly beneath his scarf so that his eyes gleam, “but it looks like you have other plans already.”
He points across the field, to a familiar red-haired figure striding through the long grass.
I break into a run and meet her halfway.
Her hair is pinned in a braided crown on top of her head, much like Valoria’s, and instead of her usual fur-lined tunic, she’s wearing what looks like one of my old necromancer’s uniforms for sparring clothes. Lysander lumbers in her wake, flattening the grass wherever he steps.
There are so many words fighting to leave my lips first that none of them manage to find their way out. I’m so scared for the brilliant girl running to meet me. I’m so sorry for shouting last night instead of trying to help her. I’m so angry—not at her, but at the crystal and whatever false promises it’s made her.
I start to tell her about getting some of Danial’s orange salve for her burns, but all it takes for her to render me momentarily speechless is a hesitant smile as she lifts a pale pink scarf away from her mouth. I can’t quite bring myself to return the gesture.
“Training in a new secret spot, I see,” she murmurs, arching her dark brows and letting the scarf fall back into place. “I take it Valoria doesn’t know about this?” Before I can respond, she draws a deep breath and adds, “I’m sorry about last night. You were right to worry. That crystal could drive a person mad, but I got rid of it—threw it in the kitchen rubbish heap on my way here.”
“You did?” I ask. “I mean—that’s great, Meredy.” Itisgreat. So why don’t I feel like sweeping her off her feet in celebration? “You promise it’s really gone?” I watch her face fall as I say it, hating myself for every word. But I had to ask, to try to silence my nagging doubt.
“I just said it is. Don’t you trust me, Odessa?” she counters, a frown in her voice.
“Of course,” I answer, perhaps a little too loudly, trying to drown out the doubt once and for all. I’m still worried about her, but she doesn’t need to know that. Besides, there are other things I need to say. “I’m sorry I compared you to Evander. That was wrong.”
“And I shouldn’t have said what I did about Firiel.” Meredy bows her head.
“I shouldn’t have shouted.”
“I shouldn’t have missed that delicious supper you made,” she sighs. “Elibeth already sent me a raven to say that Nipper delivered itall safely. Thank you so much for looking after my sister even better than I am.”
I nod, wishing I felt even cautiously hopeful that she was back to her old self. Instead, I have to stop myself from searching her face for signs that she’s distracted, her thoughts still with the crystal. “Anytime.”
She takes a long, guarded look at me, then gestures to the field where others are still sparring. “Shall we settle our remaining differences with some hand-to-hand combat?”
I hesitate. If I don’t try to take her at her word and act like things are getting better, will I be giving her a fair chance to show me that they really are?
Finally, I pull her against me without a word in answer. I’ve never felt a longing this intense, not even with Evander, I realize now—I want to be as close as possible to her, the essence of her, not just her beautiful skin. It’s like my spirit wants to grab hold of hers and never let go, but since that’s impossible, I settle for tugging down our scarves and kissing her in front of all the volunteers.
Jax wolf-whistles.
Feeling slightly better than I would have expected upon waking this morning, I point to an open spot in the shorter grass. When we reach it, Meredy faces me and spreads her arms wide. “Ready when you are,Master Necromancer.” She gives me a long look as the words leave her lips, like she’s afraid a bit of teasing might damage our relationship even further. She doesn’t seem to realize that it’s notusI’m worried for—it’sher. And right now, it seems like what she needs is me.
“Now you’ve done it.” I mock-growl as I charge toward her, tackling her to the ground.
Just like that, she momentarily banishes every worry to thedarkest corners of my mind. As we spar—or what passes for sparring when no one is landing any blows—we both glance up at the sound of Lysander’s roar.
He leaps out of the grass nearby, colliding in midair with a large dappled cat. Bryn, in her animal form.
