Page 66 of The Shadow Wand

I carefully keep my other hand away from my seat’s maple edging as I evaluate the shard’s straightness with my wand hand, the sliver of wood so tiny that I feel tenuously in control of my temptation to send magic through it.

What if I tried this tiny wand?

I would have to be extraordinarily careful to hide who I am from the Gardnerians. But I can’t help wondering—could I tamp down my power enough to control it if I used small enough shards of wood?

Could I find a way to train myself?

Set on this new course of action, I clasp the small shard tight as my gaze lifts to rest on Sparrow, a new question rising. “Why aren’t you working at the dress shop anymore?”

Sparrow’s amethyst eyes snap into tight focus on me and, for a moment, I’ve a sense of her beating back some strong emotion.

“Evelyn Grey is awful,” I press, wondering how she and little Effrey ever wound up working for the vile woman.

“Mage Grey was kind enough to indenture us,” Sparrow states carefully, the words chilling in their neutrality. But then a glint of stony courage breaks through in Sparrow’s large amethyst eyes as she considers me for a brazenly long moment, momentarily letting me see through her servile demeanor.

What I see there is formidable.

“You helped Effrey,” she finally says, surprisingly forthright. “It was kind of you. Very few Mages would do what you did.”

I purse my lips and shake my head, both confused by her train of thought and uncomfortable over being given credit for the barest minimum of humane behavior.

Sparrow’s brow furrows, her violet-lashed eyes still fixed on me as her hands grip the edge of her seat. “Mage Gardner... Fallon Bane’s looking for you,” she blurts out stiffly. “She’s still in love with Lukas Grey.”

I blink at her, my fingers tightening around the wooden shard in my hand, a jolt of power shuddering through my lines. I hold up my other hand for her to peruse, my palm out to reveal the web of black fastlines marked across it. “Well, that’s just too bad for her, isn’t it?” I bitterly counter. “It’s done. I’m fasted to him.”

Sparrow’s grave stare is unwavering. “A priest can lift Lukas’s fasting if you die.”

A tense silence descends.

Sparrow’s expression remains dead serious as I take in her obvious warning with all the gravity it deserves, a rush of concern prickling my whole body with gooseflesh.

It’s true. Whereas the fastmarks of a female Mage are permanent no matter what, a Mage Priest is able to lift a male’s fasting spell if his fastmate dies. It’s worked right into the spell’s language.

My breath grows strained in my chest as I realize the very plausible reason that Evelyn has me dressed like a scarlet beacon,so easy to find amidst a sea of black.

So easy for Fallon Bane to find.

So that she can break this fasting the only way possible.

No, I argue with myself.That’s too extreme. Even for Fallon.

I’m filled with a sudden, urgent longing to have the Wand of Myth in my hand. But it’s back in my bedroom, hidden in my travel sack under the bed.

Even if I had the Wand—or any wand, for that matter—how could I possibly protect myself with it? I don’t know how to control the devastating power I’d release.

I lean toward Sparrow, my pulse quickening. “If Fallon uses magic to attack a fellow Mage, they’ll strip her of military ranking and throw her in prison.”

Sparrow hesitates, then leans in as well, throwing a quick glance at the guards that flank our carriage before setting her gaze back on me. Her lips twist. “She’s the Black Witch. They’ll never throw her in prison.” Her expression darkens, her brow creasing. “She was at the estate earlier,” she says, her tone ominous. “She and Mage Evelyn Grey, they spoke.”

A cold sweat breaks out along the back of my neck. “Did you hear what they said?”

Sparrow shakes her head, the warning in her eyes undiminished.

My mind whirls. “My aunt... Vyvian Damon,” I press. “Do you know if she’ll be at tonight’s ball?” My stomach lurches at the thought of seeing Aunt Vyvian again, a slash of vengeful fire knifing through my affinity lines. But as much as I despise her and she likely despises me, I know that Aunt Vyvian has a vested interest in my living long enough for Lukas Grey to sire powerful Mage children with me.

“Mage Damon is in the Verpacian Province with a few Mage Council members,” Sparrow grimly tells me. “They’re meeting with the Alfsigr Royal Council, to finalize the division of the Lupine territories between the Gardnerians and the Alfsigr. She doesn’t return until tomorrow.”

My sense of urgency heightens. “Do you have any idea when Lukas is arriving at the ball?” I ask.

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