Page 33 of The Bound Mage
Lunch.Araya almost groaned. She glanced down at the open journal in front of her, the delicate script still only half-translated. Lunch meant the end of their quiet hours here. After they ate, Loren would force her to abide by her end of theirbargain, spending the afternoon letting him help hertrainher magic.
Araya pushed to her feet, grimacing. “Let’s get it over with, then.”
“All you haveto do is extinguish the flame.”
“Without touching it, using runes, or any sort of focusing assistance,” Araya retorted, glaring at the candle that flickered between them.
“Yes.” Loren didn’t so much as blink at her irritation, his voice as even. As if they hadn’t been doing this forweekswithout success. What had he told her the first time? That this exercise wasso easy a child could do it.
She shifted on the floor, running her fingers over the cool stone floor of the training room. Racks of weapons she would never have been allowed to touch in the New Dominion lined the walls, crowded in beside battered practice dummies and simple targets. But there was no chalk, no place for her to trace any runes to guide and shape her power. Leaving her with nothing but Loren and his inflexible instructions.
Right on cue, he spoke again. “You should be able to feel it?—”
“I can feel it fine,” Araya snapped.
She reached inward, finding that internal well of aether easily. That wasn’t her problem—the power was there, waiting for her to shape it. But instead of molding it into something useful, she did what Loren insisted on and just…opened herself to it.
And—nothing. The flame didn’t even flicker.
Loren sat back on his heels, watching her. “Try again.”
Araya grit her teeth, biting back a sharp retort. Why was she even bothering with this? Why washe? It never worked. Still, she’d promised to try. So Araya sucked in a deep breath, letting her mind drift.
“You’re holding on too tightly,” Loren said finally when the candle continued to burn.
“I’mnot.” Araya glowered at him. Her power fizzed in her veins, more interested in the male sitting across from her than doing anything for her. “This is pointless. It’s not how my magic works.”
“You’ve done it before,” Loren insisted. “In my cell when I broke my chains—you used your magic instinctively to keep me from hurting Shaw. The problem is you how you learned to use your magic, limiting your potential to what humans deemed acceptable. If you just relaxed?—”
Araya’s patience snapped. She had spent years fighting for even achanceat learning to use her power. And then she’d spent even more time honing her control and precision to make her into something useful to the New Dominion so she couldkeepthat power.
She swept her fingers across the stone, tracing the familiar contours ofzephra, a rune she had used a thousand times for far more complicated work than this ridiculous exercise. Without an anchor, the power she threw amounted to nothing but a puff of air—but it was more than enough to blow out that damned candle.
Araya whipped her gaze to Loren, not bothering to hide her triumphant grin.Thatwas how magic was supposed to work.
“Really?” Loren glared at her, his green eyes blazing with fury. The shadows shifted around him, echoing his anger. “You didn’t even try.”
“Ididtry.” She climbed to her feet, brushing her skirts back into order. “And I succeeded—my own way. You’re the one insisting on a solution that isn’t possible.”
Loren’s jaw flexed, his expression cooling into something far more dangerous than open anger. He climbed to his own feet, the hair on the back of her neck prickling as he stepped forward, invading her space.
“This isn’t a game,ael’sura.” He took another step forward, his shadows sweeping forward to surround them both in shifting darkness. “Do you not understand? Forget the power that could kill you if you don’t figure out how to coexist with it. Anyone here can compel you with the name you give out so freely, and you can’t do anything to stop them.”
Araya faltered, falling back a step as Loren plucked a dagger from one of the racks, offering it to her hilt first. “What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Take the dagger, Araya.”
Araya gasped as his magic washed over her, his order crawling under her skin and digging its claws into her will. Her fingers closed around the hilt of the dagger, her muscles twitching as the compulsion burned in her blood.
“Stop,” she gasped. “This isn’t what I agreed to?—”
“You don’t feel like this is helping?” Loren’s shadows ran over her, cool as silk against her overheated skin. “It’s helping me feel like I was right.”
“Loren—” her voice cracked, caught between a warning and a plea.
“Put the knife to your throat, Araya.”
Araya choked, her lungs seizing as her hand moved of its own accord. The edge of the dagger pressed into the fragile skin at the hollow of her throat, the world narrowing to the sting of cold steel against her pulse point.
