Page 94 of Wings of Ash & Flame
“It would seem, Alaire,” Leslie said coolly, “that titles, no matter how fancy, do not guarantee ability.”
“It would seem that persisting despite the odds is not something you know anything about,” she drawled back, offering a defiant smile.
Archer’s shoulders shook, though he tried to keep a straight face.
Professor Leslie turned back to the rest of the class. Alaire sagged into her seat. Maintaining a mental shield took more out of her than she’d expected.
“The telepathic bond between you and your celestial is a two-way drawbridge. Emotions, thoughts, and commands flow both ways. But there will be times you’ll want—or need—to raise the bridge and cut off the pathway.”
Alaire looked inward, searching for the point where her and Solflara’s connection formed.
“Try to close that bridge between you and your celestial, by whatever means feels most natural.”
Within her, a violet-and-red braid of flame was woven tight. Instinct told her this was the manifestation of their bond.
She imagined severing it with a blade, but felt no change.
“Hello.”
The braid of flame jumped. “Still here.”
She blinked, refocusing. Beside her, Archer had his eyes squeezed shut.
Taking a deep breath, she tried again—this time unbraiding the threads. The hollow emptiness was immediate.
“Hello,” she shouted down the bond.
No answer.
The silence was strange, her thoughts echoing in her own mind.
“Controlling the flow of your own emotions is by far the most difficult,” Professor Leslie said. “Think of them as a rushing river. You must feel them first—denying them only adds power to the explosion waiting inside you.”
Alaire’s fists tightened involuntarily.
“Mental fortitude is as important as magic, aerial techniques, or combat skills. It may be the most important tool in your arsenal. You never know who—or what—might try to reach into your mind to discover your secrets. Always be vigilant, always be ready.”
Her gaze lingered on Alaire as she spoke.
A shiver trailed down Alaire’s spine. Why did that sound like both a promise and a threat?
Twenty-Three
The campus was wonderfully deserted; everyone else was at another party. The night air lifted the loose strands of her hair as she glanced over her shoulder. The sprawling grounds were empty, save for the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze.
A week had passed since her last encounter with Professor Ross, and she was no closer to uncovering what else he was hiding. He kept promising “all would be revealed at the right time.” Cryptic bullshit. She needed answers now—especially with her first trial approaching. If he wouldn’t give them to her, she’d find them herself.
Once again, she headed toward the library, her best hope for discovering whatever secrets he was keeping from her. The gravel crunched beneath her boots.
“Why do you insist on walking the grounds alone at night?” Solflara questioned down the bond.
“You know why.” Alaire shrugged at the night sky.
“Stubborn woman.”
“I’ll be safe. No one would bother to mess with me.”
“Except half the academy,who wouldn’t mind if you ceased to breathe.”
