Page 98 of Of Mischief and Mages

“By the skies, what is . . .” Cries of the boys below rattled to the tree top where we’d taken refuge.

Kage’s pouch struck the soil as one of the willow branches curled around his ankle, wrenching him back toward the trunk. When his foulspell ignited, blasting the air with a stink so rotten, so thick with manure and dry, scaly skin, I had to choke down the bile to concentrate.

Palms out, I thought of what my mother taught me. Imagine it, see it, command it.

We were House Ravenwood.

We were the blood mages.

And stupid Kage Wilder was about to remember his place.

The billow of rotten smoke traveled toward me and Gwyn—theintended targets—but halfway up the tree, smoke thickened. I spun droplets of the trout blood and billowed it with his foulspell until the smoke sloshed like liquid, dripping and plopping as rain.

“What the hell?” Kage cried out.

I cackled, like a proper villain, when all three boys screamed as the ball of their smoke had transformed into nothing but a moving ball of gore. Innards, bits of flesh and blood, so much blood. Like a ball of frost picking up speed on a hill, the blood cloud chased them to the tree line.

Not swift enough, Kage, Asger, and Cyland were forced to crouch, heads covered, as the blood devoured them.

The willow faded, swirling into darkness, with the victorious laughter of two girls.

When shapes formed again, a girl with messy braids and dirt smudged over her freckles, stood in front of an imposing desk. At her side was a boy, drenched head to foot in blood, some dried, some still dripping off the ends of his hair.

Behind the desk, a stern, hooked nose man glared at them—at me and Kage.

“I shall be writing to both your houses at once.” A little spittle flew over the man’s lips.

“Yes, High Mage Vey,” Kage and I muttered together.

Vey’s mouth tightened so fiercely, his lips faded into the folds of his skin. One knobby finger leveled at the two of us. “Our strongest houses depend on their heirs. If you two are the future, I tremble for the fate Magiaria faces.”

“Yes, High Mage Vey.”

Vey clicked his tongue. “Like it or not, your paths will cross on the battlefields, in councils, in life. Tolerate it, or you shame us all.”

I recoiled a bit from the disdain.

“Acolyte Ravenwood,” Vey said, twisting his jagged gaze to me. “Although, I find your cast of manipulating fish blood rather ambitious, and I hope it has proven to you how powerful the magic in your veins can be, you would do well to remember you are not of the age to use unsupervised spells. Do I make myself clear?”

I nodded until my neck cramped and the moment the HighMage dismissed us from his chambers, I nearly tripped over my Sanctuary robes.

In the corridor, Kage used his taller body to trap me against the wall. “This isn’t over, Ravenwood.”

I puffed out my lips. “Yeah, we’ll see Wilder.”

“You forget I am the royal blood here.”

I sneered and pinched a bit of his soaked tunic. “Oh, I’ve not forgotten how muchbloodmeans to you.”

Kage huffed in a silent tantrum, but didn’t tug my braid or twist my arm behind my back as he’d done so many seasons since I’d begun my studies at the Sanctuary. He simply let me go—a new rivalry sparking in his eyes.

More wind, more shadows, swallowed the moment in some forgotten past. Even with us both taking residence in the palace, Kage would cast the most horrid spells over my sweet cakes, or my tea. Spells that turned my teeth blue or shot steam from my ears until I ran, sobbing to a woman with rich, brown hair.

Wrapped in her arms, I wailed all the things the cruel, hateful prince kept doing.

In one memory, Kage skidded to a halt when he rounded the corner, catching sight of the woman holding me to her chest.

“Lady Ravenwood.” Kage, a little thicker in the shoulders than before, fumbled through a rough bow.

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