The feeling of being hit, falling, rolling, had done nothing tosoften the spirits-cursed feelings. She’d barely felt the sensations outsideher body. Even the boom, the rush of air, the tiny impacts of stone against herskin had seemed as if they happened to someone else.
At last, the feeling had vanished like warmth on a cold day, andshe’d seen a woman who was dark as a raven in a black cassock, with black hairand eyes nearly dark enough to swallow starlight.
Her savior.
No, no one could save her because now her father would find out.They’d all find out. This was magic no one would fail to notice.
She’d pleaded for that not to happen, and the raven had aided heragain, hiding her in the bushes, but how would that help? Her father would wantto know who was responsible for the upset, the source of the magic, and who butSylph—
The cassock. A pyradisté. The queen’s pyradisté.
Sylph breathed a little easier even as the first gawkers burst onthe scene. It was chaos as everyone spoke at once, and the raven tried to makeherself heard until the loud, icy voice of Sylph’s father cut through it all.
“Be quiet,” he said. He never raised his voice, but somehow, italways carried. The crowd went silent. They hadn’t even done that for theprince.
“All is well,” the raven shouted into the pause. She didn’t balkwhen Sylph’s father turned a glare on her that was worthy of a Fiend from achild’s story. “Just a minor accident with a pyramid that—”
“Minor accident? You blew a hole in the deuced wall.” Sylph’sfather’s face inched from tan to scarlet, making his pale hair stand out likethe heart of a flame. “If you can’t control yourself—”
The raven bristled back at him with enviable heat, increasing herallure tenfold. But the prince stepped forward before the yelling couldcontinue.
“Let’s leave the magic to those expert in it,” he said. Beforeanyone could argue that an exploding wall didn’t instill confidence ofexpertise, the prince held up a hand and continued. “Explanations will beforthcoming after all examinations have been carried out. Right, Thana?”
The raven blinked at him before color darkened her cheeks, too.“Yes, right. Just what I was about to say.”
As the prince shepherded everyone but the raven away, Sylphcreeped from the opposite side of the bushes. She dusted herself off as shewalked, her fear beating inside her like a bird’s wings. After a few deepbreaths, she circled a clump of trees and joined the rear of the gaggle ofnobles. The courtiers parted like the sea to let her pass, and she hoped shelooked as curious and bewildered as the rest of them instead of terrified.
Her father’s sharp blue gaze cut at her. He dropped back to walkat her side, and the gap between the nobles and the courtiers widened, theentire party separating into natural circles.
“Where have you been?” he asked in a low voice, his anger agrowling bass accompaniment.
Sylph couldn’t yet speak past her fear. She waved vaguely overher shoulder.
He nodded as if that explained everything. He wouldn’t questionthat she’d naturally come toward the chaos. He wouldn’t have noticed her in allthe commotion, but then, he rarely did under normal circumstances.
“Spirits-cursed pyradistés,” he said. “Why doesn’t the queen getrid of the lot? The only need for them is to combat other pyradistés, but ifthere weren’t any left…”
Sylph felt his stare as he trailed away. She schooled her face toneutral and met his gaze.
“There’s a leaf in your hair.” He sounded confused as he removedit. “How did you get dirty?”
“One of the courtiers jostled me into a tree,” she lied smoothly.
He frowned hard, appalled. “Spirits curse their hide. Which one?I’ll—”
“It’s all right, Father,” she said with a bored wave. “I gavethem a sound telling off. I don’t even remember which one it was. They’renearly peasants anyway.”
He chuckled. “Well done. And the deuced royal pyradisté is a peasant, nevermind her manufactured status.”
“And therefore, beneath our notice.”
He seemed mollified at this and chuckled again.
Sylph repressed a sigh of relief. She didn’t share her father’sdisdain of the less fortunate, but it was the quickest way to calm his ire ordirect it elsewhere. While he was fixated on pyradistés who practiced magicopenly, he’d never suspect that she was one.
Or that the queen’s pyradisté was anything but beneath hisnotice.
Chapter Two
Gunnar kept up his bored facade until the last of thevisitors filed away, and then he turned anxious eyes on Thana. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure. One of the nobles had some kind of…reaction. Maybeto my pyramids. I don’t know.” She grabbed the end of the ponytail gathered ather nape but released it before she could thread the hair nervously through herfingers. Exploding walls were no reason to bring back childhood copingmechanisms.
“A noble pyradisté?” he asked with a cringe. “They won’t likethat.”
“No, everyone knows magic is for the peasant class. It’s only younoble shepherds who keep us herds in check.”
He gave her a long, dry look. “We’re not having this argumentnow. Which noble?”
Thana saw the large eyes again, the look of terror and despair.“Would you mind if I keep that to myself for now?”
“Why?”
“Well, I don’t know her name. And she clearly didn’t want anyoneelse to know what she can do.” She couldn’t meet his gaze, not knowing how toexplain.
He put his fists on his hips. “If anyone knows how to keep asecret, it’s me.”
“I know, I know. I just…” She sighed. He’d probably never beentold, You’re not one ofus, but it had never applied so much. “Just let me talk to herfirst, please?”
He mumbled something about not seeing the need for secrecy, buthe waved as if relenting. “I do expect to be told eventually,” he said, soundingpouty.
She chuckled. “And I expect to tell you, but I wouldn’t tell yoursecrets without permission, either.”
That shut him up.
“I need
