Page 29 of Court of Bone and Amethyst

“How about some magic practice while Zyren catches us fish for dinner?” Owyn says cheerfully.

The look Zyren gives him could level an entire village, but Owyn just smiles.

“That sounds great,” I say. “Lead the way.”

We spend the next hour sparring, just sending magic back and forth like we had the night before. It seems so simple, though it’s anything but. First, there’s the act of summoning. Calling my magic and calling the right amount. Not too little, not too much.I tend to call too much, finesse not being a natural strength of mine, apparently.

Then there’s directing it where I want it to go, and blocking magic that comes my way. Blocking is actually easier, since again, it requires less specificity. I have a hard time directing—my shadows merely come out in one big cloud. I can’t imagine how Owyn gets his magic to form into a solid spear like he did when the scouts attacked us.

When Zyren’s voice booms through darkness to tell us that the fish is ready, we head over to the fire he’d built and sit down around it. Four large silver-scaled fish are roasting on sticks over the flames.

“Everyone still has all their limbs?” Zyren asks as we begin to eat.

I open my mouth to protest, but Owyn beats me to it. “Sarielle is actually a very quick learner. I saw a lot of improvement just since last night.”

My skin flushes at the compliment. I wonder if he’s being sincere, or just goading Zyren. But he seems genuine.

“No doubt due to your expert tutelage,” Zyren says drily.

Owyn shrugs. “She’s an Otreyas, she descends from a long line of expert magic wielders. It has nothing to do with me, even if I did dedicate the last century of my life to studying magic.”

“I am grateful for your help,” I say, shooting a look at Zyren.

Silence falls for the remainder of the meal, and afterward, I go with Merla to check on the horses and give them some grain. My gray gelding lets out a snort in greeting as I duck beneath the flap of animal hide that covers the door. Compared to the outside, it’s pleasantly warm in the small space, filled with the breath of the two horses. I feed him from a leather satchel while Merla feeds her horse next to me.

“Sorry about earlier, with Zyren,” I say. “He’s just…”

“He takes his job very seriously.” Merla’s brown eyes graze over mine. “I wasn’t offended.”

“Sometimes, though, it’s like he doesn’t want me to breathe without his permission.” I let out a small groan.

She smiles. “He cares about you.”

“In a strange way, perhaps.” I shrug. “It’s more duty than anything.”

“There are few truly honorable people in the world. I wouldn’t take it for granted.”

I look at her, surprised by the directness of her words, and she begins to stammer.

“Sorry, that’s no way to speak to my queen—”

I laugh. “Stop, please. I am not any different from you. You just… I wasn’t expecting that.”

She laughs, too, more from relief than anything else.

“You actually remind me a lot of my best friend back home.” I smile, though I can feel the sadness in it. “Well, not home, but where I grew up.”

“Oh?” Merla raises her brows. “What was she like?”

I tell her, and we chat about other things until I hear Zyren’s gruff voice outside asking if we’re okay. We look at each other and I suppress a giggle. “I’m in trouble again,” I whisper, and this time Merla giggles, too.

We duck out of the tent and say goodnight, and I make my way to my own tent. It is unfortunately not warmed by the breath of two large horses, so I shiver as I go about getting ready for bed. Zyren walks in as I am wrestling with the large pile of animal furs on one side, which apparently the fishers leave here for the next traveler. He doesn’t speak, but he helps me spread the largest one over the hard, icy ground, and then a second layer on top of that. Then I situate our saddles along the backside of the space to form a little barrier to help against the cold.

We’re just finishing up when Owyn pops his head in through the door flap. “Want me to make you a fire for heat?” He points to the two glass lanterns hanging on each side of the door.

Zyren straightens from where he’s rummaging through his pack, and with a flare of power, he summons a ball of black flame into the palm of his hand. “I’ve got it covered.”

The two of them square off for a moment, a storm of power filling the tent. Then Owyn smiles. “Glad to see it. Not all guardians are adept with magic.”

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