Her lips twisted to the side when the air remained untouched. But she could feel the energy humming against her skin. It needed to be unleashed somehow. Perhaps similarly to how she called upon her wings to appear.
Hmm.
She drew aZin the air.
Then aT.
Then anA.
Try visualizing, Issac suggested, hearing the frustration in her mind as she recited each letter.
She tried aWnext. Then anA.K.E.F.I.E.L.D.
A sigh escaped her mouth as she shook her head.
Stark flicked his fingers at her in response, sending a burst of energy through the air. It sizzled in front of her, dissipating in the air. “You’ll need to master this before I can teach you how to fight a warrior Seraphim. The swords are made of energy, not metal. Which is why your father can’t keep my weapon. It’s part of me.”
“He wants you to teach him how to make them,” her mother said, her tone flat and very Seraphim-like. “It would be a useful skill, considering what’s coming. You should train all of us.”
Stark nodded. “Yes.”
Stas arched a brow. “Oh? You can be reasonable and share information? Who knew that was possible?”
He merely looked at her in response, the wordbratfloating between them unsaid.
Because yeah, she was being a bit of an annoying kid to him.
But the bastard had withheld a myriad of useful information that could have saved Stas and Issac a lot of pain. She wasn’t anywhere near forgiving Stark for it, even if he was being helpful at the moment.
He flicked his fingers again, sending more energy at her, this time enough to reach her wings. She flinched at the heat, the ember-like magic fizzling against her feathers. “Ow.”
“That’s nothing compared to what Leek and Kital can do,” he replied. “Defensive markers will be important for you to master. Which requires you to call upon ethereal energy.”
He hit her with more of that dustlike energy, making her growl.
“Sounds are impractical,” he stated bluntly. “Deflect my energy. Or better yet,absorbit.” He sent a larger ball toward her this time, one that slammed into her shoulder with the force of a baseball being thrown at full speed.
She narrowed her gaze. “Stark—”
He threw another one, forcing her to duck.
Except a third sphere came barreling at her half a second later. Her hand flew up on instinct to catch it, and the sparks collided with her own.
“Better,” Stark praised.
But he didn’t give her a chance to reply.
He shot several more fiery balls her way, each one faster than the next.
She caught four of the five and hissed when the fifth hit her wing. “Ow!”
“Thenabsorbit, Stas. It’s not like I’m hitting you with seraphic fire.”
Stas almost asked what seraphic fire was, but the incoming onslaught of magical spheres derailed her thoughts and forced her to focus on dodging the incoming orbs.
Apparently, her evening of reviewing wards with her mother had quickly transformed into a game of dodgeball.
She growled as one brushed her feathers. Then she caught another and threw it back at Stark with a strength that surprised her.
