Page 47 of The Light Falls
I hold up a finger. “If you’re Brina’s twin, maybe blue hair? Hell, I don’t know. You need to tell Solandis, but you can’t change forms. We have a slim advantage right now. Camon must continue to believe we know nothing about their plans.” Five stars on the map. “We have more than one spy in the palace to convince, and since we don’t know who it is, we can’t afford to tip them off.”
CHAPTERNINETEEN
MERI
Dirt flies up when I hit the ground for the hundredth time. Instead of getting up right away, I roll over and glare at Madoc. Apparently, training rooms make for soft soldiers. He snidely informed me that the enemy isn’t going to lay a mat down for me to land on. Hence the hard packed dirt under my back. At least we’re outside and the sun is shining instead of in a cold, dark dungeon.
He steps forward, and I scramble backward. The first time I went down this morning, I took the hand he offered. Big mistake. He picked me up and threw me fifty yards with a reminder to keep my guard up.
“When are you going to start using your magic?” he asks impatiently. “This is wasting my time.”
I stand and give him the evil eye. “I am using magic. What do you call that burned patch of grass at your feet?”
He whips a knife out and throws it at me.
Tracking its swift movement, I turn at the last minute and the small fireball he must have launched behind the knife explodes on my thigh.
“Fuck!” I scream, grabbing my leg.
Tears spring to my eyes, but I blink rapidly, refusing to let them fall. I look down to assess the damage. Skin is hanging off or curling in on itself in several areas. Black edges line raw, bleeding patches. It’s nasty and the burnt-flesh smell is clogging my nose. Unable to heal myself, I carefully wrap it in bandages to keep it clean until we get done.
Brows lower into a terrifying scowl. His scarred face twists into a macabre expression, but it’s not his face that’s worrying me. Whenever he shows emotions, he turns even nastier.
“What?” I demand, although I’m pretty sure he can hear the shaking in my voice.
He launches a full attack. “Shield! How many times do I have to tell you to keep your shield up?” Knives, rocks, and other small missiles fly at me from all directions.
Bracing for impact, I throw up a shield around my entire body. When nothing gets through, I sigh in relief. At least something is working right.
A large branch sways on the tree behind him. It begs to be used against him. Carefully sheering it off, I magically throw the large missile at his head.
Without even looking, he changes the branch into feathers that fall uselessly to the ground.
Huh. I never thought of changing the material.
He scowls and strides forward, tripling the speed of his attack.
Ignoring his advance, I concentrate on changing his missiles into feathers, leaves, and pillows. Anything soft. Faster and faster. When he picks up a nearby boulder and tosses it at me, I change it to snow. It lands like a ton of bricks on top of me, and I go down.
Damn it.Excited at how fast I was countering his magic with mine, I let my shield drop. Again. Angry at myself, I turn snow to water and stand up.
At least my leg stopped burning. Drenched and freaking cold as hell, I wave a hand and dry myself. Glancing at him from the corner of my eye, I see the scowl is gone and his usual emotionless mask is back in place.
The bandage on my thigh slips and I bend over to redress the wound. Carefully unwinding the layers, I peel them back and see nothing but smooth skin underneath. In shock, I pull and poke the healed skin.
“It’s gone. The burn. Look.”
He gives me a weird look. “Why are you surprised?”
I run my palm down my thigh again. “It used to take days, sometimes weeks, for me to heal. This is amazing.” Springing up and down a few times, I laugh. This is a game changer. Some of the fear I’ve been holding onto fades.
His eyes narrow. “Last time we spoke, you told me you had almost no magic. I didn’t believe you. Now you’re trying to tell me it took days to heal? It doesn’t make any sense. You’re Fae. We’re born with magic that constantly replenishes itself from the land around us.” Crossing his arms, he waits for me to answer.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I grumble. “Until I came to the light Fae kingdom, the little magic I had wasn’t mine. When I came in contact with Nyssa at the battle, I could suddenly draw on her powers. When she died, bam. I inherited lots of magic.”
“Where were you before here?”
I thought everyone knew. “The Underworld.”
