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When she brought a book he had requested from the library, his beady eyes fell on her hand. Quickly she snatched it back, but he had already spotted her second signifier. But Obryn didn’t ask about it and instead gave her another task to fulfill.
Amelia had been less discreet. During class, she grabbed Mira’s hand and stared at her finger as if it held an engagement ring instead of the spirits signifier.
“When did this happen?” she asked.
“Training,” Mira responded. She would have to inform Aidric of that lie at some point.
She hadn’t heard from him since that day at the estate, and it took all of her self-control not to send him a scroll. Some distance between them was good. She needed to clear her head before she was totally lost in all that was Aidric Dawson.
But six days after he left, she caved and sent a scroll. Short and to the point, but she just needed to know he was all right.
How are you?
—Winters
A scroll arrived several hours later.
A woman of many words, I see. I am marvelous. Enjoying the sunshine and good wine Gleahthis has to offer. How is life at dreary old Ivercrest?
Dawson
She smiled, practically able to hear his sarcastic voice. She wasn’t surprised he didn’t tell her how he actually was. At least this meant he was well enough to send her scrolls.
I’m convinced Obryn hates me, and I think it’s your fault.
—Winters
His scroll arrived seconds later.
My fault? For once, I am innocent.
Dawson
After that exchange, she abstained from messaging him again. I know you deserve more than what I can give you. Whatever this was between them could never be more. Not that she wanted more. Or perhaps she did?
Her mind was scrambled, which was another reason why she needed to focus on her scar removal potion, especially now that she had new information from Highmage Eriksson, which she shared with Obryn.
The Highmage leaned back in his chair and studied her notes carefully.
“Her research shows it’s possible to attach Dark Magic to certain potions. If I combined that with my already existing formula, it could locate whatever Dark Magic residue I have from Synth and remove it. Like a magnet.”
Obryn shook his head. “Highmage Eriksson’s work deals exclusively with small batches of Dark Magic. Whatever Synth left behind in your arm…we don’t know anything about it. It might have become one with your powers, or it might be feeding off you. Regardless, we cannot attack it without knowing its proprieties.”
Mira nodded enthusiastically. “I thought of that as well, which is why I want to extract the base magic, which would tell us more about what we’re dealing with.”
She had expected Obryn to be impressed; instead, her idea seemed to make the Highmage even more angry. “Do you have any idea how dangerous base magic extraction is?”
“I read that in several trials during the war, the patient could be—”
“No, absolutely not.”
“But without it—”
“This is not regular leftover Dark Magic. No magic residue behaves this way. We know nothing about it aside from the fact that it has somehow fused with your magic, attached itself to more than just flesh and bones. Base magic extraction is dangerous in the best circumstances, and in yours, we don’t even know what we’re dealing with.”
“You said you’d help me in exchange for my participation in the investigation.”
He gave a nod. “And I am, but it is my academic opinion that this idea is too risky.” His eyes fell on her right hand. “Do not take me for a fool, Miss Winters. One does not acquire the signifier of the spirit of vengeance after a few training sessions, having just started out in the field.”
