Page 91 of The Shadow Wand

“You’reGardnerian, Lukas,” I remind him, taking a chance of feeling out whether he’s still aligned with Gardneria, even though he’s not with Vogel. He’s talking about Gardnerians as if they’re a group he’s firmly on the periphery of, which gives me hope.

But he isn’t listening. He’s watching me, lost in an idea. “I’m going to wandtest you.”

Power again sparks over my fingers like pine branches catching invisible fire. I can feel the entire framework of the carriage all at once, right down to the wheels making contact with rough road. “It’s a waste of time,” I scoff, heart pounding. “I’ve been tested several times.”

Once by my uncle, who quickly discovered that his three-year-old charge was the Black Witch and promptly went into hiding; once at university with a blocked wand; once with Yvan when I burned down a forest. And once by Vu Trin sorceresses who are now intent on killing me.

Lukas’s eyes harden. “Give me your wand hand,” he insists, holding out his own.

“Why?” I curl my hands protectively in my lap, balling them into tight fists to try to douse the sparking power.

Lukas keeps his hand extended, insistent.

I eye his hand, realizing that if I refuse, I’ll inflame his suspicions. Reluctantly, I reach out, filled with the acute sense that I’m rapidly sinking under a deep, inescapable tide.

Lukas takes my wand hand in his and gently pushes up the sleeve of my dress.

My arm is covered in angry bruises from the assassin’s barrage of stars.

“Shereallywanted to kill you,” he observes, sounding slightly mystified as he turns my arm over for inspection.

“You think so?” I nervously snipe. “I thought she meant it only as a warning. She seemed sohalf-heartedabout it.”

He glances up at me and purses his lips, as if mocking an assassination attempt is in poor taste, then goes back to studying my arm, the wheels of his mind visibly turning.

“I can feel it.” His hand slides around my wrist, his thumb tracing an arc just below my palm. Small sparks trail in the wake of his touch, setting me further on edge. “There’s power just below your skin,” he murmurs. “More than in the past.Muchmore.”

I pull my wand hand back toward me as I struggle to find a way to withhold the truth. “My uncle wandtested me,” I insist, leaving out the giant explosion part. “I was tested at university. And... I tried out a wand while I was gone. All with the same results.No more testing.”

His brow furrows searchingly. “Are you back as a spy, then?”

“What?” I cough out. “For the same people who’re trying to kill me?”

“You tell me, Elloren.”

“I’m here for protection,” I insist.

Lukas settles back in his seat. “I’d be willing to wager you’re back for more than protection.” His unflinching gaze is formidable. “I think you’re back for information.” He reaches into his tunic, pulls out Chi Nam’s blue rune stone, and holds it up for my inspection.

Panic jolts through me. My hand reflexively slides over my pocket and the blood drains from my face when I find it flat and empty.

Lukas’s mouth turns up in a dark grin. “Did you lose something?”

I don’t know. I’ve never seen it before. It’s not mine.The lying words stick tight to the base of my throat, caught there like fish in a net.

Lukas’s smile inches wider. He tilts his head and holds the stone loosely, his hand resting on his thigh. “Did Chi Nam tell you we’re acquainted?” He turns the stone over in his fingers. “We’ve been sparring for years. It’s like a game of cat and mouse with her.”

“Who’s the mouse?” I shakily ask.

Lukas laughs and shoots me a sly grin. “We switch off.” He narrows his eyes in consideration. “If Chi Nam wanted you dead, you’d be quite dead. So you must be in her favor for some reason. She certainly wouldn’t have given you this if you weren’t.” He rubs slowly along the stone, trying to work it out. “Yet her people want to kill you. Interesting.”

“Not all of them,” I blurt, the compulsion to be honest with him building. “Maybe only...the one who came after me...”

“And that one was after youbecause...” he prompts.

I bite my lip in an effort to force back the truth, the wood shards under my nails now sending small spirals of fiery energy up through my wrists. The almost irrepressible urge to tell him everything is like an avalanche straining to break free.

For a long, agonizing moment Lukas studies me as he turns the stone over and over in his palm. Then, seeming to have worked out the puzzle, he clenches the stone tight and leans forward, his green eyes searing.

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