Total pages in book: 222
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
“Exactly. The focus should be on the conversation. The dance is simply an excuse to have it. Please don’t look at your feet. Look at me instead.”
My foot hit his. “Sorry.”
“No worries.”
“I’m guessing developing ‘casual ease’ will require a lot of practice.”
Erodel gave me a small smile. It was the same kind of smile Everard had given me when I asked him how much time it would take for me to get good with my dagger.
I surrendered to my fate and concentrated on not stepping on my teacher’s feet.
Dancing for three hours straight was harder than stabbing the straw dummy. At some point, Isadau exited the house and sat on the stone wall around the wine tree watching me struggle. She wore one of Clover’s gowns—mine were too short for her—and her hair, a wavy mass of deep red, fell all the way down to her waist. In the books she was known as the beauty of the Mage Tower, and I could see why.
Erodel finally relented and let me and Ruana have a long break. I stumbled to the wine tree and landed in the chair by the little table. Ow, my legs. Ow, my feet. Ow. Ow. Ow.
Isadau leaned over and stared at my shoes.
“Yes?”
“You don’t have two left feet. Surprising.”
“Ha. Ha.”
I closed my eyes.
“I can kill all of you, you know,” she said. “I can burn this place to the ground.”
“You won’t.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“You’re not that kind of person.”
“You speak as if you know me.”
“You have your magic, and I have mine.” My legs hummed like I had attached two phones to my thighs, and they were vibrating.
“Do you know what happened between me and Damaes?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
This was a test, and one I had to pass. I opened my eyes.
“There are twelve circles of magic, each requiring progressively greater understanding. The top two ranks are theoretical. Nobody has ever ascended past the tenth circle.”
But every mage in existence spent way too much time speculating about what that might be like. Mages were the ultimate power hounds. No matter how great their achievements were, they always wanted more.
“Two years ago, you were in the seventh circle, while Damaes was in the eighth and on the way to the ninth. The eighth circle is the art of unlocking the mystery of existence through which the mage gains complete control over their body and achieves the Fade, a state of existing without the physical form.”
The Fade wasn’t an astral projection but rather an ability to turn your physical body incorporeal, which rendered you immune to most physical attacks. It could only be maintained for a few moments, and many eighth-circle mages couldn’t hold it for longer than an instant.
“You had been in the seventh circle since you turned twenty-two. Up to that point, your rise was meteoric, and then you got stuck.”
Isadau grimaced.
“For years, you’d refined your magic and discovered new ways to employ it, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t achieve the Fade. You were frustrated, especially because the mage society is filled with jealous, pissy academics who snipe at each other and squabble over petty things. You were exceptional and that chafed at some of them, so once you couldn’t break through to the eighth circle, even the mages who couldn’t dream of ever reaching it started making comments about you hitting your limit.”
She opened her mouth to say something but changed her mind.
“Meanwhile Damaes was relentlessly pursuing the ninth circle. He always paid special attention to you, which you found flattering, and over time, you became his right-hand person. You practically ran the Tower, and he was consulted only on the most important decisions. The Mage Tower possesses the Eye, which is a source of great power. You wanted Damaes to allow you access to the Eye so you could boost your power and ascend. He refused and told you that you needed to think less.”
She clenched her teeth.
“You told him that you had ambitions, that you wanted your own Tower one day, and he said that he didn’t see you as the head of a Tower. Your place was at his side as his subordinate and his woman. Although he had never communicated that kind of interest, in his head the two of you were in a relationship. You simply hadn’t had the opportunity to consummate it, it was glaringly obvious to anyone with half a brain, and he was annoyed that you were being deliberately dense about it.”
She barked a short laugh. “He didn’t even ask me. The thought that I might reject him never crossed his arrogant brain. His woman. Not the one I love, not a partner, not a wife. His woman.”
“Damaes was born in the Highlands of Grador. His father is a hunter, and his mother is a bow maker. If you took away his magic and dropped him into the mountain wilderness with nothing but a knife, he would find his way back and come out of the woods carrying a delicious mountain goat he had hunted on his shoulders.”