Page 55 of Stolen Magic of the Deep

A wave of pride pushes into me, thick and energetic, and far too self-satisfied to be mine. I tense, unsure where it is coming from, or how I’m feeling things that don’t belong to me. And yet . . . It’s here.

I don’t get more than a second to dwell on it before instinct kicks in. I use the memory of the water’s earlier swirl, that slight current still lingering around me, and let it guide my escape. With a fluid twist, I glide just beyond the edge of Orion’s target zone.

He crashes downward a beat later, colliding with the sparring floor in a controlled but powerful strike. At the same moment, my dagger slices forward, clean and precise, cutting across the place where his hips meet the line of his tail. Orion runs a finger along the shallow cut at his side, then lifts his gaze to meet mine.

“Well done, Snapdragon.” He pushes off the sea stone floor and swims toward where Nyxalene waits, and glances back at me with a half-smile. “I would not have thought that you—”

“Were smart enough to realize you were trying to ambush me from above?” I say, arching a brow. “That’s what happens when you’re overly cocky.”

Orion opens his mouth, clearly ready with a retort, but Nyxalene cuts in before he can speak.

“It does not matter. She won from the start anyway.”

We both snap our heads toward her.

“What?” we say in unison, equally confused.

Nyxalene crosses her arms, her voice level. “You struck his dorsal fin and clipped the tip of it clean off, just minutes into the spar.” She tilts her head at me. “Congratulations, land-dweller. You are ready to be tested out of Current One.”

My thoughts stall. “Wait . . . what?”

I search her expression, trying to piece together what she means as the realization clicks.

Nyxalene lifts her chin slightly. “You already proved yourself when you sparred with me. Technically, that was the evaluation. This spar was about seeing whether everything I taught you held up against someone like Orion.” Her eyes flick toward him. “Which it did. Though I do have suspicions about that, given he is our king and is supposed to be brutal in battle.” she pauses, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Plus, consider it slight payback for laughing at me earlier."

I can’t help the quiet snicker that escapes me, especially at the ease between the two of them. There’s history there, subtle but unmistakable.

With the Pearlguard shift change behind us and the sparring evaluation clearly over, I ask to be dismissed for the day, allowing Orion and Nyxalene to review the training together. Based on Nyxalene’s comment about Orion being brutal in battle, I would wager she has more than a few things left to say to him, and my own thoughts drive me to wonder what she meant by them.

Neither of them stop me, and I don’t linger to offer parting words. I dart out of the chamber, needing space more than conversation.

In my room, I shift back into human form, the magic retreating, welcoming a familiar ache. I glance to the book resting on the edge of the bed—Understanding Your Magic. Orion's next lesson.

I pick it up, telling myself I'll read a few pages before sleep claims me for the night. Maybe there's something inside that will help me better understand the power that moves within me, or at least some answers about the markings on my chest and arm. Something that will prepare me for what comes next.

I change and crawl into bed, settling against the pillows, the book opening in my hands as I scan the first few lines. The words blur together faster than I can absorb them, as exhaustion pulls me under. Eventually, setting the book aside, I'm unable to fight the weight of my eyelids any longer My body sinks into the softness beneath me, every muscle spent, but my mind keeps pace—replaying words and Current One's challenge.

Not to mention, I keep seeing the cut I made along Orion’s hip, just a thin line, barely bleeding, and the astonishing pull that came with it. The urge to reach for him. To brush the blood away with my own hand. But not because I had to.

I wanted to.

The sparring quarters seem larger when empty, the silence stretching between the walls. A gray gloom settles over the space, as if the room itself is dreading this day too.

The moment I swim inside, the mineral-laced ceiling responds. One crystal flickers to life with a soft hum, then another, until they all glow in quiet unison, mimicking my movement. It’s the only welcome I get.

I take advantage of the solitude and warm up. No daggers, of course, just muscle memory and breath. I gave up on sleep hours ago. Restless dreams clung to me like the humidity of a hot rainy day, and when I surfaced from the haze, it still hadn’t been long enough for the Pearlguards to change shifts. Which means it’s the middle of the night.

Nyxalene let me use daggers for yesterday’s evaluation, but I was told I still haven't earned the one's that will belong to me. I assume today’s fight is how I earn them. The one she says I’m ready for.

After yesterday’s sparring session, I actually felt good about how quickly I picked things up, but confidence and dread can live side by side. Since she told me I was ready, the dread has only grown. Something about her final comment from yesterday lingers.

Suspicions of her king, who should be brutal in battle . . . What does that mean?

“You're training hard.” Orion’s voice cuts through the stillness, pulling me sharply out of my thoughts.

“Trying to,” I reply, keeping my movements fluid—repetition burning into my limbs now. “Harder when distracted.”

I don’t glance in his direction. I know better by now. His presence is already enough of a disruption. Looking at him would only make it worse. But he doesn’t stop talking.