Page 27 of Acolyte (Tempris #2)

Azura shrugged. “You’re just going to have to work at it.

Bash your head against the problem until you rediscover your instincts.

” She took a sip of tea before setting the cup aside.

“When you were being attacked by the harpy, by the shades, by Vaughn—your magic instinctively rose up to protect you, which means that somewhere deep down, the ability is still there. You just need to remember that feeling, to learn to summon it at will.” Snapping her fingers, a large drawstring pouch appeared out of nothing and dropped into her hand.

Taly jumped—she’d never seen magic like that—but the Queen didn’t explain, just continued on.

“I don’t usually endorse the use of crystals for casting—they can quickly become a crutch.

In this case, however, I don’t see any other way forward. ”

The contents clacked together as she placed the pouch in Taly’s hand.

“These crystals have been enchanted to freeze time,” Azura said, straightening.

“All you need to do is feed a small amount of your aether into the crystal, and it will cast the spell for you.

Your new assignment is to use these crystals to stop time on an object of your choosing, memorize the feel of the spell, then do it again.

Over and over until you can replicate that feeling unaided.

“Think of them like magical training wheels,” Azura said with a wave of her hand. Then, smiling: “That’s a human expression, by the way. The mortals do love their turns of phrase. They have one for almost everything.”

“Fantastic,” Taly grumbled under her breath. She’d upgraded from grade school lessons to magical handholding. She wouldn’t be surprised if Azura had her working with finger paints next.

The Queen clucked her tongue at Taly’s tone, then leaned forward, her eyes awash with a golden glow and the air thrumming with aether. “Make no mistake, while crystals can be a crutch, they are not mere playthings. They are dangerous weapons in the hands of a skilled mage.”

In a flash, Azura’s magic dissipated, and she turned toward the exit. “Wait,” Taly called after her. “That’s it? That was the lesson? You dragged me down here at six bells just to hand me a bunch of crystals I don’t know how to use?”

Azura paused in the open doorway of the solarium, sunlight streaming in behind her.

“You’re making progress,” she said with none of her usual flippancy.

“You’ve found your aether now, figured out how to make it respond, but casting—that’s like giving your magic shape.

It should be instinct—as natural as breathing.

While I can eventually teach you how to wield your magic with efficiency and intent, this first step can’t be trained—only done.

You’re going to have to figure this one out on your own. ”

Six days passed, and Taly threw herself into her lessons—flipping coins into the air only to stop them mid-spin, suspended at the apex of their fall.

That was the object she had chosen to practice on. A coin. She had found a bag of them in a dresser drawer one evening, and since money had no value here, she figured nobody would mind if she accidentally disappeared the entire purse into another pocket universe. It seemed… safe.

Flip.

Suspend.

Fall.

Every day, coin after coin, she used the enchanted crystals to make them hover.

She watched her aether carefully. She even tried closing her eyes to get a sense of how the flow of energy felt as it swept through the crystal and then into the air, bending and twisting into something new.

And when she thought she had figured out the shape of the spell in her mind, she tried casting it unaided.

Only to fail.

So, she moved back to the crystals.

Then tried to cast the spell herself .

Back and forth until she was gasping for breath and sweat coated her body, her very blood aching as her aether began to drain.

It was hard work, and it certainly didn’t feel like instinct. But she kept at it, coming to the solarium every evening with a coin purse and her bag of crystals.

Overhead, the sky was dark, and ash pelted the glass, almost like snow.

The air was humid but cool, scented heavily with the smell of mist and freshly packed earth.

Taly was sitting at her usual spot at the little round worktable beneath the center of the largest of three glass domes when the leaves began to rustle.

She dismissed it at first, moving back to the task at hand. It wasn’t even 21 bells yet, and she was already exhausted.

Taly flipped the coin and watched it hover.

One second. Two seconds. It was motionless, stopped mid-spin.

The crystal felt warm in her hand as she reached out with her magic, tracing the now familiar shape of the enchantment.

After a moment, she released the spell and let the coin drop.

Setting the crystal aside, Taly teased out the tiniest thread of aether, letting it curl through her fingers, pushing back when it began to rise up. Precision was also important, the Queen had told her. Too much aether could ruin a spell just as easily as too little.

So, she forced her mind to clear, forced down that restless impatience, and flicked the coin into the air. Half a heartbeat later, threads spindled from her fingers, forming a web that crisscrossed the space in front of her and caught the coin mid-spin—

Only to let it fall through.

It hit the table with a spiraling clatter, and Taly slammed a hand down on top of it. It was progress. Not instinct, but… progress. Very slow, very frustrating, it-was-starting-to-feel-like-she-might-just-be-a-really-shitty-time-mage progress.

Something was rustling again. Turning around in her chair, Taly peered into the darkness. The only light came from rows of water crystals set into the glass overhead, and they cast a soft glow. The solarium was at least three times as long as it was wide, and leaves were shaking on the far side.

She rose from her seat at the table and followed the noise. It was probably just one of the fairies. They were always hanging around, chirping and whispering, sometimes playing pranks.

The leaves began to shake more violently as Taly crept closer. A few berries dropped to the ground. There was a low hiss, and then two beady blue eyes peered at her from between the branches.

The creature was small, not much larger than a walnut, and vaguely feline in appearance.

It had large bat-like ears that were at least twice the size of its head, a long whip-like tail that sliced through the air, and a thin layer of black fuzz coating the entirety of its body.

When it opened its mouth, growling and revealing a set of fangs that were quite remarkable given its size…

Taly melted.

It. Was. Adorable.

And when it squeaked… Oh Shards. Her insides turned to jelly .

It was even cute as it snapped at her, snarling with all its tiny might—though it lost a bit of its charm when it launched itself out of the bush, lunging straight at her face.

Taly yelped, narrowly ducking out the way. She groped for the little beast as it dropped to the floor, but it was across the solarium before she had time to blink.

“Shit,” she muttered. It was small, but fast—unbelievably strong for its size, darting from the floor to the table to the branches and leaving a truly impressive trail of devastation in its wake.

Ceramic pots shattered, and bags of dirt toppled over.

The Queen’s berries got trampled as Taly reached for it and missed.

“How in the nine hells?!” she barked, barely managing to catch a trellis before it toppled over. The creature was no more than a black streak, ricocheting across the room like a bullet.

Glass cracked, and vines groaned overhead. It was heading for the door. The door that led outside. The same one that she’d stupidly left open because she liked to watch the way the ash piled up against the barrier surrounding the palace.

Another trellis snapped and nearly fell on top of her.

“Stop!” she pleaded with the creature. It hissed back at her as it leapt from branch to branch. “You can’t go outside!” If it didn’t get killed by the blasts, it might get swept away when the day reset. She wasn’t sure if a living thing could come back from that.

The little beast bounced as it hit the floor, its claws scraping against the bare stone as it skidded and weaved its way forward.

The way was clear. There was nothing stopping it now, and panic slammed into her—panic for this tiny terrified creature that had no way of knowing the danger that awaited it just outside that set of doors.

She chased after it, reaching for that pressure that was pushing against her now. Straining beneath her skin.

It was a familiar feeling. She recognized the shape it began to take.

The creature hit the threshold, but the power was spiraling out from her, like threads from a spindle. Threads that glittered in the air like some great golden web as she held out a hand...

And time in the solarium suddenly stopped.

Taly stood there for a moment with a hand still outstretched, panting.

She’d cast. She’d actually done it. Threads of magic ensnared the little beast, now motionless and hovering just off the ground in a leap for freedom. But she didn’t have room in her brain to care about that right now. Not as she rushed to the creature and gently plucked it from the web.

She kept her grip on the spell, loosening it just enough that time began to trickle by. The creature’s movements were slow, and its eyes blinked open, staring up at her with an emotion she instantly recognized.

Fear. But not just that. It was the feeling of being small and weak, helpless against those that were bigger and stronger. Who were always going to be bigger and stronger. Those who allowed you to live by their grace alone.

She remembered that feeling. She had felt it every day of her life as a human.