Page 51 of A Witch and Her Dragon
When I finally reach the other end of the field, I find the sphere has already been picked up for me, and the student who fetched it stands alongside the field, tossing it from hand to hand.
“Tristan,” I say, mouth pulling into a smile.
“Thought that was you.” He laughs and tosses the sphere again, his dark eyes tracking its movement before flicking back to me. “You plan on trying out for a runeball team?”
“Definitely not.” I roll my eyes and laugh. “Just fooling around.” A few strands of hair have come loose from my ponytail, and I reach up to push them behind my ear. “Do you... Do you wanna play?”
Tristan looks down at the sphere, then back up at me. “Nah. Afraid I’m not very good at my magic yet.” He holds out a hand, and while it appears he’s attempting to bring a flame into his palm, all he’s successful at producing is a wisp of smoke.
My lips quirk up on one side.
Tristan notices. “Are you...laughingat me, Your Highness?” He narrows his eyes and tips his head, but his expression struggles to remain serious.
“No!” I hold out my hands. “I’m not. I swear.”
He continues to stare at me. His gaze sharpens.
“Okay, yes, I was. But just a little.”
“I had no idea our princess was so cruel,” he mumbles, as if to himself. “I’ll have to let everyone know what a bully you are.”
I groan and cant my head at him. “Please don’t. I have a hard-enough time making friends around here as it is.”
“Hmm. Can’t imagine why that might be...” Tristan’s gaze flicks over my shoulder.
And suddenly, I feel heat on my back. When I turn, I spot Raelan staring at us from where he still stands besidethe fence encircling the field. He’s glaring, lips pulled into a severe frown, hands fisted at his sides. When he catches my eye, he arches a brow slowly.
And if I were younger and just slightly less mature than I am now, I might stick my tongue out at him.
“Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your game.”
I turn back around to face Tristan. “Are you sure? It’s all in good fun. Goddess knows I sure need to practice my magic. It listens about as well as a school of prairie fish.”
His smile is soft and friendly. A crisp autumn breeze sends his brown hair swaying about his eyes. “I’m sure. Now, whose turn is it?”
“Maeve’s. And she’s much too good at this game, so don’t go easy on her.”
“Oh yeah?” With a little smirk, Tristan lifts the sphere over his head and yells, “Maeve, go long!” Then he hurls the arcane sphere across the field with surprising strength and a little bit of air magic, sending Maeve sprinting after it, her long-legged strides chewing up the grassy field.
I watch her for a moment, impressed by her speed and agility, and my eyebrows shoot up when she blasts the sphere with a small burst of electricity—storm witches and their lightning—and sends it right back up into the sky so Lyra has to scurry after it.
“Well, I’m off.” Tristan steps back from the fence, his schoolbag thumping against his hip. “But don’t worry too much about your frost magic.” The look he gives me is warm, comforting. “You’ll master it eventually. Just takes time.”
I arch an eyebrow at him and smile. “Speaking from experience?”
In answer, he holds out a hand, and this time he’s able to bring a small flame into his palm. It sends a bit of light dancing across his skin, shimmying in the breeze. After a few moments, Tristan closes his hand around the flame, extinguishing its heat and light. “Yeah,” he says, “something like that...”
“Alina!” Lyra yells. “Come on!”
“Ugh,” I groan. “Fire witches. Are they always so impatient?”
“In my experience,” Tristan calls out as he heads back toward the castle, “yes!”
“What’d he say about fire witches?” Lyra yells.
But I just shake my head and start back across the field. Raelan’s gaze follows me, but I don’t meet his eyes. Instead, I send out another little blast of frost magic, and this time, it sends the arcane sphere arcing beautifully into the sky, just like I intended for it to.
Just takes time, I think, letting a smile stretch across my face.
