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CHAPTER ELEVEN

IN WHICH THE HEROINE IS PUT IN HER PLACE

Cantal and I sat together in the hall while the others worked to prepare dinner.

Legs crossed, hands resting on our thighs, we faced each other.

The position, he’d told me, was optimal for honing one’s focus to learn mana control.

For the last few minutes, I’d been turning my attention inward to carry out the delicate process that was asked of me.

Raised voices tumbled around in the background before Daethie’s shrill voice scolded them into silence.

For Valuen’s sake, couldn’t they keep quiet for ten minutes?

“You can draw the mana now.”

I cracked open one eye to level a frown in Cantal’s direction. “I am.”

“You’re not.” The cleric mirrored my frown. “The amount around you hasn’t changed.”

I checked again in case I had it wrong, but the power was a purring cat curled in my chest, ready to pounce as soon as I gave the word. “I don’t know what to tell you.” I raised one shoulder and let it fall. “I could change right now.”

Disbelief was scrawled across my teacher’s face.

“I swear to the Goddess.” To prove my point, I lifted a hand. Warmth rushed to my fingertips as my fingers sprouted massive talons.

“Ah.” Understanding dawned. “No, no, no, child. You’re not doing it right. The consort have mercy.”

My hand landed hard against my thigh and gripped a handful of fabric. “All right, well, how about you tell me how I should be doing it, then? Directions never hurt anyone.”

“I thought you’d… Well, that’s not important, I suppose.

Let’s start over. You have a receptacle here”—Cantal tapped his sternum—“that houses your personal store of mana . An amount you’re born with.

It naturally replenishes itself from whatever is around you, whether you use magic or not, until one day it cannot, and you die. ”

“And?” I wished he’d get to the point.

“You don’t use that to fuel a change. You’ve got to use external mana , like I showed you in the garden.

Try again. Close your eyes if it helps. Whatever you just used, whatever you’ve been using in the past, ignore that.

You have to feel for the mana around you.

You may only be able to draw small amounts at first, but this will improve with practice. ”

Trying to ignore the flustered heat rising in my chest, I settled back into place. Feel for the mana , huh? Easier said than done. Not doing it right? Would have been nice to know that about fifteen years ago. How long have I been behind the curve?

I had to focus my thoughts. The air smelled of wood, the same wood that was hard against my backside and ankle bones.

Underneath that was cold, wet earth, humming with power if only I knew how to take advantage of it.

The inner seam of my sleeve itched; I ignored it.

Breathed in, breathed out. If I looked for it, maybe it would come to me.

Mana might feel like a big ball of spiritual yarn, and getting the amount I need like pulling on a loose thread?—

“Dinner’s ready,” one of the twins announced.

My eyes popped open.

“Thank you, Hohem.” Cantal unfolded his legs and got to his feet. “We can resume this later. But that will be the first step—until you learn to draw mana properly, I cannot help you.”

A swell of disappointment washed over me. I ground my teeth together, unwilling to admit defeat. “You go on ahead,” I told them. “I’m going to keep practicing.”

Cantal inclined his head and went to join the others.

“Want me to bring you a plate?” Hohem asked, hovering in the hallway.

“Ah… yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

It wasn’t even a full minute before footsteps approached, interrupting me for a second time. I held a hand out for the plate without opening my eyes. “Thanks, Hohem.”

“It’s Vyrain, actually.”

The handoff complete, Vyrain took a seat beside me with his own plate. Down the hall, cheerful voices chattered away, Daethie’s enthusiastic voice carrying above the din.

“How was your workout today?” I asked when he didn’t try to initiate conversation.

Instead of answering, Vyrain used his fingers to scoop up a mouthful of his dinner and chewed with a determined set to his jaw. I followed suit, too lazy to fetch cutlery from my bag. We ate a few bites in silence, each swallow getting progressively heavier.

“What’s up with the others?” I wondered aloud when they remained out of sight.

Vyrain’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I… asked them for a moment. Alone.”

My fingers paused on the way to my mouth. “Oh. I see.”

His attention narrowed on the bite hovering in front of my lips. Without any fanfare, I dropped it back on the plate, licked my fingers clean, and set my half-finished meal aside.

“Out with it, then,” I ordered.

Vyrain pushed a piece of indiscernible vegetable from one side of his dish to the other while he considered his words.

“It’s nothing crazy. While we were out today, we got to chatting, and it made me think.

I know we were never… I was never clear, I su ppose.

About my intentions. I was being frivolous about it, but… I like you, Mar.”

I opened my mouth, and his hand shot out to stop me.

“You don’t feel the same,” he continued, studying my expression.

Whatever he might have been looking for—a rebuttal, perhaps—he didn’t find it.

He dropped his gaze. “I knew that—know it. My mother used to say that women don’t always know what they want, and it’s a man’s role to take charge.

That we needed to be relentless. That’s obviously not the case, and I never meant to make things difficult for you. ”

Able to guess where this was going, I gave him silence to keep going.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. And I get it.” His volume dropped to slightly above a whisper. Nodding in the direction of the kitchen area, his expression grew longing. “He’s a personality, that one. I would never have thought that was your type, but I guess I can see it.”

Did I imagine it, or was there a touch of admiration in his tone?

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“His energy complements yours.” Vyrain punctuated his words with a vague gesture.

“You seem to enjoy his company. And as strange as it sounds, I think he’s genuine, deep down.

” At my look of utter confusion, he at last got to the point.

“I’m saying that I give up. On you. Us. Live your life. Be happy, Mar.”

I almost laughed. The whole situation was ridiculous.

Vyrain thinks he’s genuine? I’d trade both pinky fingers to know what they talked about while running today.

As silly as it was, him coming to terms with the fact that I was never going to entertain his advances made things easier for me.

This was a good thing. So, not without difficulty, I kept a straight face.

“Where is this coming from?” I inquired. Having the context would go a long way in determining the best way to deal with this. Did Luthri say something?

Vyrain gave me a subdued smile. “It’s nothing, really. I was just thinking I ought to tie up any loose ends before we rescue that lady. You know, in case her family wants to thank me with her hand. You would be welcome to attend the coupling ceremony, of course.”

I didn’t know whether it was okay to laugh.

I ought to assume that for him, this was serious, not a simple crush.

The melancholic mood killed any desire to poke fun.

I retrieved my plate and stuffed my mouth while I thought of an adequate response.

Regardless of where I considered us, his perspective deserved respect.

“Of course,” I agreed. “Well, I appreciate your honesty, and I hope we can still be friends. For what it’s worth, you’re making the right decision.” Feeling as though I should say something more, I added, “And I hope it works out between you and Miss Kereti.”

Vyrain nodded, the motion causing his blond hair to flop into his eyes. He ran his fingers through it with a drawn-out exhale before responding. “Yeah. Thank you.”

We sat together without speaking for another moment before he sprang to his feet, nearly upsetting the plate resting on my knees. “Oi,” I protested, snatching it out of harm’s way.

“Sorry! Sorry.” Vyrain backed up. “I’ll go join the others. Enjoy your dinner. There’s, uh, more where that came from if you’re still hungry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I shooed him away. “Tell them they can come out now.”

“Will do. Thanks, Mar. For hearing me out.” With one last smile, which I mirrored for his sake, he about-faced and disappeared around the corner.

Once he was out of sight, I loosed a deep sigh and slumped against the wall.

The ceiling hadn’t changed since last night.

I hadn’t expected it to, but took the time to assure myself of that.

Then, plate in hand, I went to find Luthri.

He wasn’t in the kitchen. Daethie directed me outside, where I found him leaning against the garden fence with his back to me. I led with a friendly inquiry.

“Did you threaten Vyrain into leaving me alone?”

He whirled around, and his expression shifted from surprise to pain as whatever he was eating went down the wrong pipe. I waited for the coughing to taper off.

“One more time,” he wheezed, thumping his fist against his chest. “Did I—what?”

“Vyrain,” I enunciated, looking around for a place I could set my plate while we talked. “He said you talked during your run today. What about? Did you threaten him into leaving me alone to give yourself a better chance?”

Lu’s dark brows drew together. “I might be a touch competitive—it’s not my finest quality, I’ll admit—but I’m not a bully. Is that what he told you?”

“I inferred.” Settling for holding my dinner, I slouched against the fence and fixed Luthri with a wordless stare. It didn’t work quite the way I’d hoped, as he stared back with an infuriating amount of composure.

“How was your day?” he asked, cocking his head.