Page 35 of The Serpent Prince

They stopped in front of two huge doors, and Kiran rapped loudly on one before tipping his head down and muttering, “I have a feeling you could get anything you wanted from her, if you had control of your magic.”

That statement made Imani’s stomach drop. She had already been feeling inadequate, but that just deepened the insecurities.

The door swung open, and Master Heirwyn stood there, dressed in similar clothes to Imani, her light blonde hair, graying in some parts, tied up in a tight bun. Her eyes fell immediately on Imani with a penetrating gaze, studying her.

“Are you prepared to spend the next several hours getting thrown on your ass?” Master Heirwyn asked by way of greeting. The master continued examining Imani, watching carefully, absorbing her reactions as she awaited an answer.

“Of course she is,” Kiran said, clapping her on her back.

“I can speak for myself,” Imani gritted out.

“Because, if not, I don’t want you here. I told Kiran I don’t train ungrateful brats. I’ll ask again: Are you ready to train the hardest you’ve ever trained?” Master Heirwyn flipped her wand gracefully over her fingers.

Kiran squeezed Imani’s shoulder. “She’s going to be a model student.”

Master Heirwyn subtly glanced at the male elf next to Imani, her gaze skeptical but calculating.

Imani clenched her fists a few times to calm her nerves but gave the woman a curt nod.

After a moment, Master Heirwyn sighed. “Fine, come inside.”

Leaving Kiran outside in the hall, Imani followed the master witch into her room. She openly admired how beautiful it was; everything seemed to be light and airy, a sharp contrast to the rest of the Niflheim palace.

Windows were open everywhere, and the sheer drapes rippled gently with the breeze. White walls gave it a relaxing yet clean feeling, and she wondered if this was the nymph’s way of attempting to get back a piece of her home.

Aralana had constantly opened the windows, as well, letting the smell from the river into the apartment. A pang of sudden nostalgia hit her. With its rolling hills, sunshine, meadows, and warm breezes, the Riverlands were quite different from Niflheim.

They stopped in a sitting room where the furniture had been cleared to the perimeter.

Imani let out a deep breath. “What exactly am I going to be training for with you?”

The nymph witch flicked out her wand and studied Imani once more. “You were close to passing the assessments, but you held back your atrophic magic.”

“I’ve had to hide it. My magic is much more raw. Wild … dark.” She whispered the last word.

“You’re afraid of it. That’s your first problem.”

“Really? And what would you know about that? You haven’t seen anything I can do yet.” Imani crossed her arms, and her voice dropped lower. “My magic kills people. I’m not sure training so physically is a good idea.”

“Please, child, I probably know far more about your own magic than you do. Besides, I wasn’t selected to train Kiran when he was a child or serve as First Witch for nothing. I know a thing or two about defending myself from magic that can kill me.” She gave Imani a placating smile.

Perking up, Imani was no longer concerned about the danger—she was enamored with the idea of learning more. “So, you can teach me, then?”

Master Heirwyn waved her hand dismissively. “Of course. I can train you in control, no matter the magic.” Pulling out her wand, the naiad nodded for Imani to take out her own wand. Then she pushed more of the furniture to the edges of the room and cast a protective ward around them. Imani hoped it would be strong enough to contain her shadows.

Inside the shield, they stood across from each other. Master Heirwyn gave her a funny look. “Did your grandmother gift you her wand?”

Imani’s mouth gaped, and she stood frozen in shock for a moment. “You could say that she did.” Imani paused, remembering how Ara had tossed the wand to her through the jail bars. “How did you know this belonged to my grandmother?”

“We knew each other.” A second later, she pointed her wand at Imani and didn’t give her a chance to prepare before striking her with a flash of gold light.

As if someone had pulled on an invisible string attached to her, Imani jerked to the side, just missing the spell. Before it hit the wall, Master Heirwyn tugged it back.

“Focus on your own inner voice. Don’t let the magic overpower that voice—ever. And don’t let distractions like conversations get in the way of your focus.”

Imani took a breath and did her best to silence the whispers just as the nymph witch struck again, faster this time.

Whatever magic she cast sliced through Imani’s sleeve. Blood dripped from the wound, and that inner voice roared in her head, overpowering the whispers, calling for more, more, more.