A coming of age gift at thirteen is often a necklace or a ring. By manifestation, the item is commonplace and sure to be nearby—if not during the manifestation itself, during an early lesson. The structure of a gemstone collects magic—just for a brief instant—but an instant is the chance a noble needs to learn the feel of power outside her body.
Think. Where has your teacher told you to focus your magic? In your hands? At your chest? Perhaps near your head? This method does not work for you because not enough Gift is amassing for you to sense. I promise, after a single analysis of your Gift, you will forever notice even the smallest speck of your magic outside your body.
Put on the sapphire. Gather your Gift to your heart. Observe, and cast.
I fastened the necklace around my neck and searched the room. In the corner, I found an outfit too full of holes to be of much use. I took it to the bathroom and tossed it into the tub.
My stomach churned with nerves and emotion. In a few minutes, I could be a blue mage. An honest, powerful, blue mage worthy of… I needed not to think of Shamino, but of the Kyer’s lake, calm and deep. As I slipped into serenity, my Gift swelled inside. I willed it to rise. I willed it out to the sapphire.
I gasped. A mirror hung above the tub. In it, I saw only myself wearing a necklace, but in my mind, I sensed just outside my chest a glow, or a light, or an energy. I couldn’t explain it. No one had ever been able to explain it to me, and I couldn’t put it into words now, but First One, I feel it!
The power had seeped away as I marveled, but I renewed it. The second I felt it outside my body again, I breathed out, visualizing the power rushing from the sapphire to my clothes. In my mind’s eye, I saw it arc. Imagination and reality combined as flame, intense and instant, lashing hot as dragonfire.
Incineration.
With a flash of blinding blue-white, the clothing turned to ash.
“I did it,” I breathed. Incineration. The last spell in my Fire text. Frantically, I unclasped the sapphire and tossed it out of the room. I raised a hand and formed the image I had created over and over thousands of times.
Innocent blue flames swirled in a globe as if I’d been casting Light for weeks.
I sank to the tile, dizzy with euphoria. Dizzy with possibilities. I was a mage. A blue mage. All it had taken was a gem—
And the words of my enemy.
I gathered myself from the floor and found the sapphire where I’d tossed it in the bedroom. Once more I climbed upon the bed, and I finished reading Thorkel’s words.
True brilliance lies in noticing the ordinary. All those nobles, overlooking the greatest tools on their very hands. Gemstones, you see, do not merely collect power. I’ll let your intelligence and imagination pursue that tidbit of knowledge.
This should demonstrate my goodwill. You may thank me, in person, after you bond.
“‘Do not merely collect power’…” I murmured. I held up the chain so the stone glittered. Shards of light danced on the walls, reminiscent of a sickroom’s dancing rainbows. Rainbows created by…
Crystals. They split light. Made tiny rainbows. But that wasn’t all they could do. Crystals could make light brighter by focusing it, concentrating it to a pinpoint and using every scrap…
An Illusion spell large enough to hide not one, but many, dragons.
Thorkel, a mere red, could best any mage.
And now I knew how.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I excused myself from the Quarters, saying I needed extra magic practice. True. Zoland’s joy at my unlocked Gift had no bounds; he’d instruct me all day if I asked. As it was, that first day of being a real mage, I spent all my extra time using the power that seemed endless.
The next day, I did the same.
It’s not a full lie, I told myself the third day as I held a pen in my hands. Shamino had replied both days with short sentences of encouragement, for he still didn’t know. My acting Dragonmaster, my Seneschal, my friend, he didn’t know about my Gift. Merram knew. Zoland had sent him word via the dragon couriers, and he had already replied: Good. All lessons but magic are now canceled.
I started scribbling the same sentence again, wavered. My magic seemed such a tiny lie compared to the rest of the lies I lived. Except, his former fiancée had lied. He hated lies, and wasn’t it best he found out from me? He’d know when I didn’t leave the Kyer, anyway.
Just… how to tell him? Writing guess what, my magic works! when for so long it hadn’t…
Such a minor lie, when I lived one.
Why did he have to fall in love with me?
I gave up on the note and penned a different one, to Zoland: No extra practice today. See you at the regular time. I braided my hair and dressed for a messy day at the Quarters.
Half a Sphere later, I held my breath as I peeked through the Seneschal’s open door. His study was empty. I breathed out and checked the task sheet. A second piece of paper had been hung over it: Eggs Hatching.
With a squeal I ran to the nursery.
Shamino had told me we’d only get a few eggs a year. With the few number of blacks and skilled reds willing to adapt to Kyer life, and the few dragons available at any time to pair, the Kyer always struggled to grow. It made the recent deaths all the more tragic, and the soon-to-hatch eggs all the more important.
There was nothing tragic in the
