Page 27 of The Coven of Ruin

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“They, uh, moved the tournament so that it wasn’t held in the rain. Will you be participating in it?” Zyana asked, and it came across casually, but Trista noted how her leg bounced under the table.

Deep blue eyes the color of frozen oceans quickly assessed her friend. Whereas stoking conversation may have been outside her comfort zone, being assessed seemed to make her sit a little straighter, a little prouder.

“Najim will be,” the other witch purred, sitting back in her chair and placing a hand over her stomach. “And will you?”

Zyana nodded, checked her enthusiasm, and simply replied, “Yes.”

The Maja tilted her head. “Weapon of choice?”

“Sword. I like the way it feels in my hands,” she said while flexing her fingers.

“Ah. I prefer my staff or daggers. You’re either going to be unable to reach me, or I will have you nice and close.” She gestured to the mage beside her. “Najim prefers the sword, though.” The mage glanced at them with similar deep blue eyes before he went back to his conversation.

Placing both hands on the table, the coven leader stood up. “We will be hunting in the southern marshes the next couple of days but will be back in time for the tournament. I suspect I will see you there then…”

“Zyana of the Mountain.”

“Zyana,” she repeated. “Sahera.” She placed her hand on her chest, over her heart. “Well met.”

“Well met,” Zyana murmured, watching Sahera and the members of her coven leave. The Maja’s familiar, which must have been curled beneath the table, stretched and slinked behind her.

Demurielle’s eyes were wide. “Uhm, what wasthat?”

Zyana jerked a shoulder up. “You had your mouth open for so long I grew concerned, and Trista, you looked at her like you couldn’t believe she would deign to speak to us. Someone had to savethe Triunefrom utter ruination.” She mockingly emphasized the nickname Demurielle had given them.

“Well, you most certainly saved us,” Trista affirmed, forcing herself not to laugh. “Whatever would we do without our heroine?”

“Ha ha,” Zyana mocked. “Would you rather call yourselvesthe Two? Because that could be arranged.”

Chapter XIII

Afterlunchthefollowingday, she tucked herself away in the exact same corner of the library. Pleased that her pile of books remained untouched, illuminated by the sprites, she settled into her seat. “You are the best guards,” she cooed at them. She had swiped some fruit from lunch for the sole purpose of getting in some quality reading time. Informing her friends had gone better than she expected.

“But there’s going to be a whole comedic act at dinner,” Demurielle had whined.

“Then I expect you two to do all the jokes and acts tomorrow for me.”

“Fine,” Dem pouted. “Though, I bet Zy would look great in a jester’s garb. And do tell us if you overhear any more tantalizing conversations.”

They hadn’t known what to make of the conversation she had heard either, but they all agreed that it was odd that Princess Rianne was in the castle and yet not attending the activities for the Circes season. “Maybe sheisoff doing something really dangerous,“ Demurielle mused. “There’s no time for forbidden love affairs if you’re risking your life all the time.”

Trista had just finished a pear and jumped back into the complex text on the origin of dark magic when she was interrupted by a small voice.

“My lady Trista? Healer Trista?”

Peering over the top of her book, a small mageling greeted her. His hair was tousled, and his cheeks were red as if he had been running.

He tiptoed closer to her. “Finally,” he huffed, “I was told that your presence is requested, my lady.” Despite being winded, he spoke quietly as if sharing a secret.

“Is that so? And what’s your name, lord?”

“Theron, my lady.” The mageling grinned at her and cracked his hands open to show her a peek of a coin she didn’t recognize. “He gave this to me if I promised to find you.” His brow furrowed. “I found you and would very much like to keep it,” he said, bringing the coin protectively to his chest.

“Who sent you to find me?”

He scooted closer to her still. “General Reas of The Iron Coven, my lady.”

Her stomach plummeted. She had been expecting Eral or someone else entirely. Forcing an encouraging smile, she replied, “Rest assured, young lord, you have successfully accomplished your mission.”