Chapter 11
Eleven
Ivy
The petals unfurl above my fingers. My pulse flutters at the incredible feeling of their velvety surface blooming with life.
Of course, my magic is dealing out death as well. I chose a twig on one of the hunched saplings around the stone platform to shrivel as the bud blossomed.
When I open my eyes, the yellow flower beams up at me. A glance at the twig confirms that it’s turned wizened, its beige bark transformed into dark gray.
I slump back against the stone beneath me. The act has left me depleted even though I’ve created much vaster effects with my power before.
The concentration needed to moderate both the intended effect and the consequence drains me faster than simply tossing my magic out into the world.
That and the increased clamoring of the magic I haven’t let out.
I turn to the imagery I’ve found resonates most with me: a leafy vine wrapping around me, like the plant I took my chosen name from clinging to the oak in Ewalin’s yard in Slaughterwell.
As I picture it winding densely together, shutting away the thrum of energy inside me, my power gradually settles.
But it’s still simmering there, eager for me to stretch its capabilities more.
Sulla smiles with a crinkle at the corners of her eyes and pats my shoulder.
“You’ve been doing very well. I think tomorrow we can start making minor adjustments around the rest of the Haven.
More practical matters and slightly larger effects that could sustain you for longer before your magic becomes demanding. ”
My mouth goes abruptly dry. “Really? You think I’m ready for that?”
This is only my fourth day of training. I haven’t slipped from my intentions since the second afternoon, but the single flower I’ve just invigorated is the most potent act I’ve carried out.
And nothing I affect up here matters all that much. If I crack the stone or snap a twig I didn’t mean to, no one suffers for it.
If I falter in my control around the rest of Haven, I might ruin a treasured relic or valued tool that the sorcerers here created over decades of work. I could hurt Sulla or one of my men.
“I’m sure of it,” Sulla says without a hint of hesitation. “You can still come up here to meditate and ground yourself, but it’s important to get comfortable working your magic in everyday settings. Especially if you still intend to leave the Haven once we’ve finished your basic training.”
I know she doesn’t approve of that goal. From what she’s said, I may be the first sorcerer to train here and not stay on. But the scourge sorcerers and their unknown leader, whoever stood even higher than Ster. Torstem in the Order of the Wild, are still out there, wreaking havoc or planning to.
I can’t just sit on my ass while the rest of the world falls to ruin. That would be almost as bad as carrying out the destruction myself.
When I get to my feet, energy continues humming through my chest and limbs. I might not have done anything spectacular with my magic during our twice-daily sessions up here, but I’ve used it more times in the past four days than I have in my entire life before.
My power feels primed now, ready to spring out of me at a moment’s notice even though there’s no threat to provoke it. The sensation makes my gut twist.
I picture the vine tamping it down again and take a deep breath to steady myself.
I’m in control. I decide how I use my power.
Sulla says that once the habit of using it in minor ways becomes familiar, I’ll find its presence reassuring rather than unnerving. I’ll know that my defenses won’t allow any power to slip free without my permission.
It’s hard to imagine that level of comfort right now.
Thankfully, as we walk down the mountainside through the network of buildings, the movement of my body pushes my awareness of my magic into the background. The woolen dress I’ve customized with slits to my thighs swishes against the loose trousers I’ve turned into an underskirt.
Out here, away from noble society, I could simply wear pants and tunics like I used to on the streets. But I’ve come to appreciate how much easier it is to keep my blades close at hand but concealed with riding-style dresses.
While we descend, Julita stirs at the back of my skull. Hmm. I wonder what you could do first? Add a little picture to the walls? Try to fix up one of those old books Alek’s been obsessing over?
Both suggestions sound potentially complicated. I lift my shoulders in a slight shrug.
By the time we reach the main building, I feel almost like myself. Sulla drifts off to tend to her gardens, and I head toward the sound of voices carrying from the dining room.
Rheave is sprawled across a couple of the cushions by the table, plucking slices of pear out of a bowl. Casimir sits across from him with a cup of tea, and Stavros is pacing as much as the short width of the room allows.
“—what they’d do next,” he’s saying as I reach the doorway. He halts both his pacing and his remarks at the sight of me.
His restlessness sets my heart thumping at an uneasy pace. “Is something wrong?”
The former general offers me a crooked smile. “Not that we’re aware of.” He pauses. “Can you see much from that perch where you do your training?”
The memory of the view swims up in my mind. “I can see a lot, but it’s mostly wilderness other than a few farms farther off. Why?”
Stavros sighs. “I wish we had more of an idea what’s happened since we left Florian. I know what the king’s first steps would have been, but without any sense of what the conspirators’ continuing plans were…”
The twist in my gut tangles into a series of knots. It’s because of me that we’re here—because of me that we’ve been totally cut off from the rest of the world for days.
In all the time we’ve already spent here, I’ve only gotten the slightest grip over my magic. How long will it take me to harness the vast stores of power that can flow through my riven soul?
My throat constricts against the words, but I have to say them. “You don’t need to stay. If you want to go back and start helping with the military efforts—”
Anguish flashes across Stavros’s chiseled features. He steps forward and grasps my arm to stop me. “Ivy, that’s not what I meant. I’m not leaving you. You should have us supporting you while you grapple with your magic.”
His voice still tenses slightly when he speaks of the practice I’ve been doing. He can’t help seeing my use of my potentially destructive power as a different sort of battle.
I paste a smile onto my face, willing my voice to stay even. “I’m taking things slow, so you don’t need to worry about me. If it would make sense—if you could help more that way… I don’t want to feel like I’m holding you back.”
“You’re not. We’re here so you can be properly prepared for all the threats we’re facing, and then we’ll have the best chance of overcoming them together.” He lets out a rough chuckle. “I’d simply like a better idea of what exactly we’re facing so I could prepare more in the meantime.”
Rheave pops one last bit of pear into his mouth. “Is there any way you could find out without going far away? Humans have ways of passing news along, don’t they?”
Stavros rubs his jaw, appearing to give the daimon-man’s suggestion his full consideration. “Not to random farmers, I wouldn’t think. But I suppose…”
He glances toward the map he found in one of the Haven’s storage rooms that he was poring over last night. “I’ll have to think on it. There’s no point in taking a risk if the benefits wouldn’t justify it.”
I swallow down the lump of guilt. “If you come up with a plan, I’m sure it’ll be a good one.”
“Thank you for your unconditional confidence,” Stavros says dryly, but he leans in to give me a quick kiss.
It’s the most public he’s been with his displays of affection, the heat of his mouth reassuring and thanking me, and gone sooner than I’d like. When he draws back, Rheave is watching us avidly.
I flush at the daimon-man’s intense attention, but he shifts it completely to Stavros a moment later. “If you don’t have any other plans right now, you said there were more advanced techniques with the bow and arrow. Would you show me?”
Stavros chuckles. “I suppose that’s as good a way to pass the time as any. We’ll have you toppling scourge sorcerers in no time.”
Julita snorts. It figures that he’d get friendlier as soon as military skills were involved.
My mouth twitches with amusement. Regardless of the reasons, it’s nice to see that the former general seems to finally be warming up to our newest companion.
As Stavros motions for Rheave to follow him, Casimir takes one last sip of his tea and gets to his feet too. The courtesan ambles over to join me while the other men stride off to continue their combat training.
“Where’s Alek gotten to?” I ask.
“Oh, he’s buried in the books he’s found.” Casimir grins fondly. His voice is back to its usual smoothness now, all traces of his illness gone. “I don’t think he’s in any hurry to return to the rest of the world.”
I try to laugh, but it comes up in a hitch. “At least that’s one of us.”
Casimir studies my expression, his hand rising to stroke up and down my back. “Are you all right, Ivy? Sulla’s mentioned that your sessions with her are going well, but you’ve seemed more and more tense the past couple of days.”
I give my body a little shake as if I can shed the worries that’ve gnawed at me. “I am getting better at controlling my magic. There’s just so much of it to contend with. I feel like I’ve only just learned how to stack pebbles and I’ve got a whole mountain looming inside me.”
“If there’s any way any of us can help…”
“I know.” I lean into his touch, unable to hold back a sound like a purr when he trails his fingers right up the side of my neck. “Unfortunately, since the magic flows through me, it’s really up to me to handle it on my own.”