had the grace to look guilty.
“At least this one isn’t one of my former favorite pupils,” she replied, grimacing crookedly, “I don’t even think I know him.”
“You don’t,” Herjes said, “I trained him. He also is not anywhere near Kelven’s potential, and he isn’t dabbling in blood-magic. Speaking of which—have you recovered arcanely as well as physically?”
“I’m at full power. I can go any time.”
“In the morning, then?”
“In the morning.” She inclined her head slightly; felt the faintest whisper of magic brush her by.
Show-offs, she thought, as she heard the doors behind her open. Two can play that game.
“We will be on our way at dawn, Councilors,” she said, carefully setting up the rolibera spell in her mind, and wrapping it carefully about both herself and Lyran. There weren’t too many mages even at Masterclass level that could translate two people at once. She braced herself, formed the energy into a tightly coiled spring with her mind, then spoke one word as she inclined her head again— There was a flash of light behind her eyes, and a fluttery feeling in her stomach as if she had suddenly dropped the height of a man.
And she and Lyran stood side-by-side within the circle carved into the floor of her private workroom.
She turned to see the mask of indifference drop from him, and his thin, narrow face come alive with mingled humor and chiding.
“Must you always be challenging them, beloved?”
She set her mouth stubbornly. He shook his head. “Alas,” he chuckled, “I fear if you stopped, I would no longer