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Asger, somber, reserved with gentle eyes, sneered almost as viciously as Cy. “Not until you get your strike.”
Through a groan, I cursed and straightened. My weapon of choice was a bearded axe.
In the mortal realm, I’d been skilled with knives, the main reason Lloyd sent me out as his inconspicuous enforcer, but junior year in high school, I’d been asked out by the shy kid from Algebra.
In truth, Gil from fourth period remained one of the few genuine human souls I could remember encountering. Until he took us axe throwing and I slaughtered the target, throw after throw. The guy who owned the rec place even offered me a job as an instructor.
Gil didn’t seem as comfortable with me in class after that, like I might whip out some Viking blade and slit his throat if he stepped wrong.
I tightened my grip on the handle of the axe. Asger was a grump who rivaled Kage’s sardonic moods, but he was more like a shadow as a sparring partner. Strikes that came from nowhere, deliberate and unseen.
The edge of his blade struck the curve of the axe. My shoulders ached against the pressure, but I tossed a sloppy kick at his leg, breaking our lock and resetting. Asger gave no time to rest. He dragged his blade down. I parried. He sliced. I swung. When he spun away, I tried to chase him down and catch him off balance.
I only met the bulk of his bicep when he shoved me back.
Grunts and jeers rose from the across the long room. Gwyn and Cyland had taken up arms against each other and, in the moment, Gwyn had clambered onto Cy’s back, a knife at his throat.
“Why . . .” I took another swing, narrowly missing Asger’s shoulder. “Don’t you . . . just use . . . magic?”
“Magic is taxing during a fight. And not everyone can perform wordless spell casts. It takes a great deal to prepare elixirs or potions while at war. Soturi must”—Asger hooked his ankle around my leg and yanked, tossing me onto my back. He straddled me, sword to mythroat, the pearly glow of his one eye broke into me. “Be skilled at both.”
I bucked my hips, trying to break free.
From beneath his tunic, Asger removed a silver chain. On the end was a gold talon that looked like it belonged to a large, predatory bird. “But of course, there are ways to aid our wordless magic.”
The Soturi charms Destin had explained. Gwyn flashed her ear—the gold hoop she always wore was hers, and Cy carried a bear tooth around his neck.
“Your arm ring was the charm of House Ravenwood, and why do you suppose Prince Kage was so distressed over his missing ring?”
I paused for a breath, still pinned under Asger. “That’s his charm?” It was so similar to mine. Ice flooded my skull, a slow burn of frigid air. I hissed at Asger. “Get out of my head!”
His eyes brightened when he chuckled. “Ah, but I’ve caught you. I can force every secret, every battle scheme from your thoughts. I can see who you love most and know just who to threaten to ruin you.”
“Break free.” Gwyn clapped her hands. “Think, breathe, break free of his hold.”
I writhed and kicked, doubtless I looked utterly pathetic, like a thrashing trout caught on a hook. I cried out when the oily glide of Asger’s magic cut through my head.
It’s felt in the soul, my girl.
My eyes snapped open. A memory of a voice, a voice like the one from the first vision when I’d touched the arm ring.
Draw out the power from the fibers of your being with the simple belief and trust that you can. It will not fail you.
Asger might’ve been playing mind games, or the words might’ve been real.
From the soul. A belief and trust that it was there.
I closed my eyes. This place, it spoke to a deeper piece of me, like it flowed through my blood. Smells of blossoms, of salt in the mist, of damp in the cold air. This was no dream. I could not continue on wondering if I would soon wake up.
I was in a world of magic and mystery.
I was a mage.
I was a Soturi.
Asger muttered a groan of pain. One of his palms clapped over his mouth and he spilled off me. When he pulled his hand away, blood stained his teeth.
“Shit, Asger.” I hurried to my feet. “Did I do that?”
